Hingston Down Proverb

Hingston Down from Kit Hill, showing tin mining works in the right - by Crispin Purdye [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"'Hengsten Down well wraught

Is worth London Town dear ybought'

In respect of the great quantity of tin to be found there under ground. Though the gainful plenty of metal, this place formerly afforded, is now fallen to a scant-saving scarcity. As for the Diamonds which Dr. Fuller fancieth may be found there, I believe they would be little worth. "

Ray 1768

Map - Hingston Hill

Unlucky in Devon - 33

Common snail (Helix aspersa) - By macrophile on Flickr [CC-BY-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 It is unlucky -

"For a miner to meet a snail when entering a mine, as it betokens calamity, or probably the exhaustion of the lode on which he is then at work."

Hewett 1900

Treacle Mines at Daccombe

[I have been told recently that Daccombe has its own Treacle mines...

To read more about the process of treacle mining click here.]

Betty Stogs and Jan the Monster - part 6

'...While yet full of fear and trembling to meet her husband, Jan came home from Bal. He was, of course, told that his "croom of a chield was lost." He didn't believe a word of what Betty told him, but he went about and called up all the neighbours, who joined him in the search. They spent the night in examining every spot around the house and in the village--all in vain.

After daybreak they were all assembled in deep and earnest consultation, when the cat came running into the house, with her tail on end, and mewing anxiously. She ran forth and back round a brake of furze, constantly crying, as if she wished the people to follow her. After a long time some one thought of going after the cat, and in the middle of the furze-brake, on a beautiful green, soft spot of mossy grass, was the baby sleeping, "as sweet as a little nut," wrapped carefully up in some old dry gowns, and all its clothes clean and dry. When they unwrapped the child, they found he was covered over with bright flowers, as we place them round a babe in the coffin. He had a bunch of violets in his dear little hands, and there were wallflowers and primroses, and balm and mint spread over his body. The furze was high all around, so that no cold wind could reach the infant. Every one declared that the child never looked so handsome before. It was plain enough, said the old women, that the Small People had taken the child and washed it from top to toe; that their task of cleansing the babe was a long one, and that the sun arose before they could finish it; that they had placed the child where it was found, intending to take it away the next night.

They were never known to come for the babe, but every one said that this affair worked a great change in Betty Stogs and in Jan the Mounster. The cottage was kept tidy, the child clean; and its father and mother drank less, and lived happier, for ever afterwards.'

Hunt 1903

Betty Stogs and Jan the Monster - part 4

'...All this time the dough was forgotten, and it was getting sour and heavy. At last, when the woman went away, the lump of sour "leven" was put down to bake. The neglected child got troublesome, and as Jan would be home early to supper, Betty was in a great hurry to get things done. To quiet the child, she gave it Jan's watch; and, that it might be the better pleased, she opened it, "that the dear chield might see the pretty little wheels spinning round." In a short time the "machine" was thrown down in the ashes, and it, of course, stopped. Betty, at last, wished to know the time; she then found the watch clogged full of dirt. To put the thing to rights she washed it out in the kettle of dish-water, which had not been changed for two or three days, and was thick with salt pilchard-bones, and potato-skins. She did her best to clean the watch, for she was now terribly afraid of Jan, and she wiped all the little wheels, as far as she could reach, with the corner of the dishcloth, but the confounded thing would not go. She had to bake the bread by guess; and, therefore, when she took it up, it was as black as soot, and as hard as a stone.

Jan came home; and you may judge the temper he was in at finding things as they were, and his watch stopped. Betty swore to the deepest that she had never taken the thing into her hands. Next morning Jan got up early to go to Bal; and taking the burnt loaf, he tried to cut it with a knife, but it was in vain--as well try to cut a stone; next he tried the dag (axe), and Mounster said it strook fire, and the dag never made the least mark in the crust...' [cont.]


Hunt 1903

Betty Stogs and Jan the Monster - part 3

'...In a little time the voice of a baby was heard in Jan's cottage, but the poor child had no cradle, only a "costan" (a straw and bramble basket); and, in addition to the ordinary causes of neglect, another cause was introduced--Betty took to drink. A great, nasty suss of a woman, who went about pretending to sell crochet-work, but in reality to sell gin -- which she kept in a bottle under the dirty rags, which she called "the most beautiful croshar-work collars and cuffs, that all the ladies in the towns and up the country wear on Sundays and high holidays "--formed a close acquaintance with Jan's wife. The result was, things went from bad to worse. Jan was discontented, and went to Bal, and returned from Bal always a sullen man. One day Betty had to bake some bread--she had never before done so, as her mother had always attended to that job. Jan had left his watch hanging to the dresser, that Betty might know the time. All went well till the middle of the day; and, just as the bread was ready to put down, in came the crochet-woman. First Betty had a noggin of gin--she then had her fortune told -- and because she was promised no end of good luck and the handsomest children in the country, and Jan the best luck in tribute-pitches, the kettle was boiled, and some pork fried for the fortune-teller...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

Betty Stoggs and Jan the Monster - part 2

'...The old people used to say--they wouldn't put the poor innocent chield to work to Bal, for fear the great rough heathens from Lelant might overcome her; so they kept her at home, and the old man would brag how his Betty could cut furze and turf. Instead of staying at home in the evenings, Betty was always racing round the lanes to class-meetings; for she had been a "professor ever since' she was a chield." Betty was an only child, and the old people had saved a little money, and they hoped some one "above the common" would marry her. In Higher Side there lived a man called Jan the Mounster (monster), and, tempted by the bit of money, he resolved to lay himself out to catch Betty. Jan became a converted character--he met in the same class with Betty, a expressed himself as being "so fond of the means of grace." Things went on in this way for some time, and it was found that Betty "had met with a misfortune." The old people were now in a great hurry to marry their daughter, and promised Jan money enough. to buy a set of cheene (china), and lots of beautiful clome (earthenware); but Mounster required more than this, and fought off. He left the "people," that he mightn't be read out. He said he was heartily sick of the lot, told strange stories about their doings, and became as bad a character as ever. Time advanced, and Betty 's mother--who was herself a wretchedly dirty woman, and, as people said, too fond of the "drop of drink "-- saw that she must lose no chance of making her daughter an honest woman. So she went to Penzance and bought a new bed--a real four-poster--a new dresser, painted bright lead and liver colour--an eight-day clock, in a painted mahogany case--a mass of beautiful clome--and a glass milk-cup. When all these things were ranged in cottage, Jan was well enough pleased with them, and hung his "great turnip of a watch" up in the middle of the dresser, to see how it would look. When he had satisfied himself he told the old woman he would marry Betty out of hand, if she would give them their great pretty, bright, warming-pan to hang opposite the door. This was soon settled, and Jan the Mounster and Betty Stogs were married...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

Betty Stogs and Jan the Monster - part 1

'IN the "high countries," as the parishes of Morva, Zennor, and Towednack are called, there has long existed a tradition that the children of dirty, lazy, "courseying" women are often taken away by the Small People, carefully cleansed, and then returned--of course all the more beautiful for being washed by the fairies in morning-dew. This notion has evidently prevailed for many ages, and, like many an old tradition, it has been remodelled in each generation to adapt it to the conditions of the time. The following is but slightly modified in its principal characteristics from a story somewhat coarsely told, and greatly extended, by an old woman in Morva.

A woman, up the higher side, called Betty Stogs, very nearly lost her baby a few months ago. Stogs was only a nickname, but every one knew her by that and no other. It was given to her because she was so untidy about the feet and legs. She could not darn a hole in her stocking--the lazy slut could never knit one. Betty was always pulling the legs of her stockings down under her feet, that the holes in her heels might not be seen--as long as the tops would come under the garter--and she often gartered half-way down the leg to meet the necessities of the case. Betty was reared up in Towednack, at no great distance from Wheal Reeth, at which Bal the old man, her father, worked. He also farmed a few acres of land, and, "out of core," he and his daughter worked on it. ...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

St. Margery Daw and the Piskies

'WE have no reliable information of the birth, parentage, or education of Margery Daw, but we have a nursery rhyme which clearly indicates that she must have been a sloven--perhaps an ancient picture of a literary lady, who was by her sad habit reduced to extreme necessity.

See saw, Margery Daw,

clearly indicates a lazy woman rocking herself either in deep thought, or for want of thought.

Sold her bed and lay on the straw;

this was stage the first of her degradation. 

She sold her straw and lay in the smut,

the second and final stage, which may well induce the poet to inquire--

Was not she a dirty slut?

Another version of Margery's story is more distinct as to her

See saw,
Margery Daw,
Sold her bed
And lay on the straw;
She sold her straw,
And lay upon hay,
So piskies came
And carried her away.

A friend, in writing to me on this dirty Cornish saint, is disposed to regard St Margery Daw as a very devout Roman Catholic, and to refer the version of her story which I have given first to the strong feeling shown by many Protestants against those pious women who rejected the finery of the world, and submitted for the sake of their souls to those privations which formed at one time the severe rule of conventual life. Margery and the fairies are supposed to have left England together at the time of the Reformation, but she has left her name to several Cornish mines.

The Fairy Fair of Germoe

'BAL LANE in Germoe was a notorious place for piskies. One night Daniel Champion and his comrade came to Godolphin Bridge,--they were a little bit "overtook" with liquor. They said that when they came to "Bal Lane," they found it covered all over from end to end, and the Small People holding a fair there with all sorts of merchandise--the prettiest sight they ever met with. Champion was sure he saw his child there; for a few nights before, his child in the evening was as beautiful a one as could be seen anywhere, but in the morning was changed for one as ugly and wizened as could be; and he was sure the Small People had done it. Next day, telling the story at Croft Gothal, his comrade was knocked backward, thrown into the bob-pit, and just killed. Obliged to be carried to his home, Champion followed, and was telling of their adventure with the Small People, when one said, "Don't speak about them; they 're wicked, spiteful devils." No sooner were the words uttered than the speaker was thrown clean over stairs and bruised dreadfully,--a convincing proof to all present of the reality of the existence of the Small Folks.'

Hunt 1903

Knockers

'AT Ransom Mine the "Knockers" were always very active in their subterranean operations. In every part of the mine their "knockings" were heard, but most especially were they busy in one particular "end." There was a general impression that great wealth must exist at this part of the "lode." Yet, notwithstanding the inducements of very high "tribute" were held out to the miners, no pair of men could be found brave enough to venture on the ground of the "Bockles." An old man and his son, called Trenwith, who lived near Bosprenis, went out one midsummer eve, about midnight, and watched until they saw the "Smae People" bringing up the shining ore. It is said they were possessed of some secret by which they could communicate with the fairy people. Be this as it may, they told the little miners that they would save them all the trouble of breaking down the ore, that they would bring "to grass" for them, one-tenth of the "richest stuff," and leave it properly dressed, if they would quietly give them up this end. An agreement of some kind was come to. The old man and his son took the "pitch," and in a short time realised much wealth. The old man never failed to keep to his bargain, and leave the tenth of the ore for his friends. He died. The son was avaricious and selfish. He sought to cheat the Knockers, but he ruined himself by so doing. The "lode" failed; nothing answered with him; disappointed, he took to drink, squandered all the money his father had made, and died a beggar.'

Hunt 1903

Buccas or Knockers

'Buccas or knockers are believed to inhabit the rocks, caves, adits, and wells of Cornwall. In the parish of Towednack there was a well where those industrious small people might every day be heard busy at their labours--digging with pickaxe and shovel. I said, every day. No; on Christmas-day--on the Jews' Sabbath--on Easter-day--and on All-Saints' day -- no work was done. Why our little friends held those days in reverence has never been told me, Any one, by placing his ear on the ground at the mouth of this well, could distinctly hear the little people at work.'

Hunt 1903

Clacywell / Classenwell Pool

'This pool is believed to be bottomless; it, however, really fills the shaft of an early mine.'

Hope 1893

The Knockers, or Buccas

'The Buccas or Knockers.--These are the sprites of the mines, and correspond to the Kobals of the German mines, the Duergars, and the Trolls. They are said to be the souls of the Jews who formerly worked the tin-mines of Cornwall. They are not allowed to rest because of their wicked practices as tinners, and they share in, the general curse which ignorant people believe still hangs on this race.'

Hunt 1903