Tregeagle haunting - part 1

'Another correspondent to whom I am much indebted for valuable notes on the folk-lore of the Land's End district, sends me the following version:

You may know the story better than I do; however, I 'll give you the west-country version. A man in the neighbourhood of Redruth, I think (I have almost forgotten the story), lent a sum of money to another without receiving bond or note, and the transaction was witnessed by Tregagle, who died before the money was paid back. When the lender demanded the money, the borrower denied having received it. He was brought into a court of justice, when the man denied on oath that he ever borrowed the money, and declared that if Tregagle saw any such thing take place, he wished that Tregagle would come and declare it. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Tregagle stood before him, and told him that it was easy to bring him, but that he should not find it so easy to put him away. Tregagle followed the man day and night, wouldn't let him have a moment's rest, until he got all the parsons, conjurors, and other wise men together, to lay him. The wise ones accomplished this for a short time by binding the spirit to empty Dosmery (or Dorsmery) Pool with a crogan (limpet-shell). He soon finished the job and came to the man again, who sent for Parson Corker, of Burrian, who was a noted hand for laying spirits, driving the devil from the bedside of old villains, and other kinds of jobs of the same kind...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

The adventurs of Chery of Zennor - part 11

Cherry told the old woman she "wouldn't cum ony furder for the wurld," She thought from the first she was got into a land of Small People underground, only master was like other men; but now she know'd she was with the conjurors, who had turned all these people to stone. She had heard talk on 'em up in Zennor, and she knew they might at any moment wake up and eat her.

Old Prudence laughed at Cherry, and drove her on, insisted upon her rubbing up a box, "like a coffin on six legs," until she could see her face in it. Well, Cherry did not want for courage, so she began to rub with a will; the old woman standing by, knitting all the time, calling out every now and then, "Rub! rub! rub! harder and faster!" At length Cherry got desperate, and giving a violent rub at one of the corners, she nearly upset the box. When, O Lor! it gave out such a doleful, unearthly sound, that Cherry thought all the stone-people were coming to life, and with her fright she fell down in a fit. The master heard all this noise, and came in to inquire into the cause of the hubbub. He was in great wrath, kicked old Prudence out of the house for taking Cherry into that shut-up room, carried Cherry into the kitchen, and soon, with some cordial, recovered her senses. Cherry could not remember what had happened; but she knew there was something fearful in the other part of the house. But Cherry was mistress now--old Aunt Prudence was gone. Her master was so kind and loving that a year passed by like a summer day. Occasionally her master left home for a season; then he would return and spend much time in the enchanted apartments, and Cherry was certain she had heard him talking to the stone-people. Cherry had everything the human heart could desire, but she was not happy; she would know more of the place and the people. Cherry had, discovered that the ointment made the little boy's eyes bright and strange, and she thought often that he saw more than she did; she would try; yes, she would!..' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

Uncle Anthony James

'A gentleman to whom I am under many obligations writes:-- "The only wandering droll-teller whom I well remember was an old blind man, from the parish of Cury,--I think, as he used to tell many stories about the clever doings of the conjurer Luty of that place, and by that means procure the conjurer much practice from the people of the west. The old man had been a soldier in his youth, and had a small pension at the time he went over the country, accompanied by a boy and dog. He neither begged nor offered anything for sale, but was sure of a welcome to bed and board in every house he called at. He would seldom stop in the same house more than one night, not because he had exhausted his stories, or 'eaten his welcome,' but because it required all his time to visit his acquaintances once in the year. The old man was called Uncle Anthony James. (Uncle is a term of respect, which was very commonly applied to aged men by their juniors in Cornwall. Aunt (A'nt or Ann), as A'nt Sally or Ann' Jenney, was used in the same manner when addressing aged women.

"Uncle Anthony James used to arrive every year in St Leven parish about the end of August. Soon after he reached my father's house, he would stretch himself on the 'chimney-stool,' and sleep until supper-time. When the old man had finished his frugal meal of bread and milk, he would tune his fiddle and ask il 'missus' would like to hear him sing her favourite ballad. As soon as my dear mother told him how pleased she would be, Uncle Anthony would go through the 'woeful hunting'; (' Chevy Chase '), from beginning to end, accompanied by the boy and the fiddle. I expect the air was his own composition, as every verse was a different tune. The young were then gratified by hearing the 'streams' (strains) of 'Lovely Nancy,' divided in three parts. [j] I never saw this ballad published, yet it is a very romantic old thing, almost as long as 'Chevy Chase.' Another favourite was --

'Cold blows the wind to-day, sweetheart;
Cold are the drops of rain;
The first truelove that ever I had
In the green wood he was slain.

"Twas down in the garden-green, sweetheart,
Where you and I did walk;
The fairest flower that in the garden grew
Is withered to a stalk.

'The stalk will bear no leaves, sweetheart;
'l'he flowers will ne'er return;
And since my truelove is dead and gone,
What can I do but mourn?

'A twelvemonth and a day being gone,
The spirit rose and spoke--
"My body is clay cold, sweetheart;
My breath smells heavy arid strong;
And if you kiss my lily-white lips,
Your time will not be long."

"Then follows a stormy kind of duet between the maiden and her lover's ghost, who tries to persuade the maid to accompany him to the world of shadows. Uncle Anthony had also a knack of turning Scotch and Irish songs into Cornish ditties. 'Barbara Allan' he managed in the following way, and few knew but that he had composed the song:--

'In Cornwall I was born and bred,
In Cornwall was my dwelling;
And there I courted a pretty maid,
Her name was Ann Tremellan.

"The old man had the 'Babes in the Wood' for religious folks; but he avoided the ' Conorums,' as he called the Methodists. Yet the grand resource was the stories in which the supernatural bore great part. The story I told you about the ancestors of the conjurer Luty finding the mermaid, who gave them the power to break the spell of witchcraft, was one of this old man's tales, which he seemed to believe; and he regarded the conjurer with as much respect as the bard might the priest in olden time. I have a dim recollection of another old droll-teller, called Billy Frost, in St Just, who used to go round to the feasts in the neighbouring parishes, and be well entertained at the public-houses for the sake of his drolls."

[j] Carew, in his "Survey of Cornwall," makes especial mention of "three men's songs,' as being peculiar to this county.'

Hunt 1903