The Enquiring Eye #2 and the Finchingfield Witch Sticks

You can read all about my latest research into the Finchingfield Witch Sticks in issue 2 of The Enquiring Eye. This paper takes a complete look at the unique Essex sticks, the folklore surrounding them and compares these artefacts to other similar items in the folklore archive.

Check it out here

Above: The spot where 'Goofy Mumford' is believed to be buried.

Find out more in The Enquiring Eye #2

Lien Gwerin 5 now available

Lien Gwerin: A Journal of Cornish Folklore, number 5, is now available to order. This is another bumper edition, even bigger and better than before, featuring leading writers and artists from Cornwall and around the world. Included in this issue is a fresh look at the infamous curse of Mother Ivey, plus some of the the folklore and other mysteries surrounding the famous tidal sea cave holy well, near Newquay, and the retelling of the folktale of the Zennor mermaid. PLUS a look at the folklore of the Scillies and loads more. 

Please click the link for full details on our fantastic content line-up and how to order your copy.

ORDER HERE

The Wild Hunt

 Cornish Folklore of the Wild Hunt

Alex Langstone

The Wild Hunt folklore motif occurs across Europe and typically involves a ghostly or supernatural group of hunters, horses and dogs passing in a wild pursuit, sometimes seen flying across the sky or leaping across the land. One of the earliest recorded stories of the wild hunt in Britain comes from Peterborough, was recorded during the mid-twelfth century where the ghostly hunt was described as having “huge and hideous hunters, who rode on black horses and on black he-goats, and their hounds were jet black, with eyes like saucers”

In Cornwall we have our own versions of the ghostly and sometimes demonic wild hunt. 

In North Cornwall we have Squire Cheney and his hounds, who haunt the countryside around St Teath during wild and stormy weather (1)  and nearby at Pencarrow, the folkloric memory of Lord John Arscott’s seventeenth century hunt, sees their ghostly forms ride out from Pencarrow House to the cliffs around Port Isaac, and is said to end with the spectral hounds, huntsmen and horses jumping to their demise from the clifftops (2).  At Bodmin, Robert Hunt recorded a vague childhood memory of the wild tale of Hender the Huntsman of Lanhydrock(3),  and there is a tale of the wild hunt which haunts the ancient bridge which spans the River Ottery at Yeolmbridge, a couple of miles to the north of Launceston.(4)  

Up on the high ground of Bodmin Moor we have Cornwall’s most famous demonic ghost, Jan Tregeagle, and his anguished howls can be heard as he is chased by the Devil’s Dandy Dogs(5) which snap mercilessly at his heels around the shores of the desolate Dozmary Pool. By day his spirit lurks within the waters, tasked with emptying the lake with a holed limpet shell. But it is by night that his true demonic force is felt, as he is chased across the tors and through the coombes with the fangs of the hell-hounds snapping at his heels. Here he makes sport for the devil himself, who leads the wild hunt across the desolate bogs and  over the rocky tors. On particularly stormy night you can hear his cries, as his Tregeagle howls are carried on the wind as it whips through the valleys.

Tregeagle and the Demonic Wild Hunt
(Old Looe Stories & Legends card)

On the banks of the Lynher river, near St Germans comes the old tale of Dando and his Dogs.  This pack of ghostly hounds, led by the spirit of local priest Dando who rides a magnificent horse, black as night, with eyes that gleam like the brightest stars.  (6)  

Robert Hunt recorded the tale, and is reproduced below.

In the neighbourhood of the lovely village of St. Germans formerly lived a priest connected with the old priory church of this parish, whose life does not appear to have been quite consistent with his vows.

He lived the life of the traditional "jolly friar." He ate and drank of the best the land could give him, or money buy; and it is said that his indulgences extended far beyond the ordinary limits of good living. The priest Dando was, notwithstanding all his vices, a man liked by the people. He was good-natured, and therefore blind to many of their sins. Indeed, he threw a cloak over his own iniquities, which was inscribed "charity," and he freely forgave all those who came to his confessional.

As a man increases in years he becomes more deeply dyed with the polluted waters through which he may have waded. It rarely happens that an old sinner is ever a repentant one, until the decay of nature has reduced him to a state of second childhood. As long as health allows him to enjoy the sensualities of life, he continues to gratify his passions, regardless of the cost. He becomes more selfish, and his own gratification is the rule of his existence. So it has ever been, and so was it with Dando.

The sinful priest was a capital huntsman, and scoured the country far and near in pursuit of game, which was in those days abundant and varied over this well-wooded district. Dando, in the eagerness of the chase, paid no regard to any kind of property. Many a corn-field has been trampled down, and many a cottage garden destroyed by the horses and dogs which this impetuous hunter would lead unthinkingly over them. Curses deep, though not loud, would follow the old man, as even those who suffered by his excesses were still in fear of his priestly power.

Any man may sell his soul to the devil without going through the stereotyped process of signing a deed with his blood. Give up your soul to Satan's darling sins, and he will help you for a season, until he has his claims carefully wound around you, when the links are suddenly closed, and he seizes his victim, who has no power to resist.

Miserichord in St Germans church, 
featuring Dando and his Dogs.

Dando worshipped the sensual gods which he had created, and his external worship of the God of truth became every year more and more a hypocritical lie. The devil looked carefully after his prize. Of course to catch a dignitary of the church was a thing to cause rejoicings amongst the lost; and Dando was carefully lured to the undoing of his soul Health and wealth were secured to him, and by-and-by the measure of his sins was full, and he was left the victim to self-indulgences--a doomed man. With increasing years, and the immunities he enjoyed, Dando became more reckless. Wine and wassail, a board groaning with dishes which stimulated the sated appetite and the company of both sexes of dissolute habit exhausted his nights His days were devoted to the pursuits of the field, and to maintain the required excitement ardent drinks were supplied him by his wicked companions. It mattered not to Dando--provided the day was an auspicious one, if the scent would lie on the ground--even on the Sabbath, horses and hounds were ordered out, and the priest would be seen in full cry.One Sabbath morning Dando and his riotous rout were hunting over the Earth estate; game was plenty, and sport first-rate. Exhausted with a long and eager run, Dando called for drink. He had already exhausted the flasks of the attendant hunters.

"Drink, I say; give me drink," he cried.

"Whence can we get it?" asked one of the gang.

"Go to hell for it, if you can't get it on Earth," said the priest, with a bitter laugh at his own joke on the Earth estate.

At the moment, a dashing hunter, who had mingled with the throng unobserved, came forward, and presented a richly-mounted flask to Dando, saying:

"Here is some choice liquor distilled in the establishment you speak of. It will warm and revive you, I'll warrant. Drink deep; friend, drink."

Dando drank deep; the flask appeared to cling to his lips. The stranger hunter looked on with a rejoicing yet malignant expression;--a wicked smile playing over an otherwise tranquil face.

By-and-by Dando fetched a deep sigh, and removed the flask, exclaiming: "That was a drink indeed. Do the gods drink such nectar?"

"Devils do," said the hunter.

"An they do, I wish I were one," said Dando, who now rocked to and fro in a state of thorough intoxication, "methinks the drink is very like--" The impious expression died upon his lips.

Looking round with a half-idiotic stare, Dando saw that his new friend had appropriated several head of game. Notwithstanding his stupid intoxication, his selfishness asserted its power, and he seized the game, exclaiming, in a guttural, half-smothered voice: "None of these are thine."

"What I catch I keep," said the hunter.

"They're mine," stammered Dando.

The hunter quietly bowed.

Dando's wrath burst at once into a burning flame, uncontrolled by reason. He rolled himself off his horse, and rushed, staggering as he went, at the steed of his unknown friend, uttering most frightful oaths and curses. The strange hunter's horse was a splendid creature, black as night, and its eyes gleamed like the brightest stars, with unnatural lustre. The horse was turned adroitly aside, and Dando fell to the earth with much force. The fall appeared to add to his fury, and he roared with rage. Aided by his attendants, he was speedily on his legs, and again at the side of the hunter, who shook with laughter, shaking the game in derision, and quietly uttering: "They're mine."

"I'll go to hell after them, but I'll get them from thee," shouted Dando.

"So thou shalt," said the hunter; and seizing Dando by the collar, he lifted him from the ground, and placed him, as though he were a child, before him on the horse. 

With a dash, the horse passed down the hill, its hoofs striking fire at every tread, and the dogs, barking furiously, followed impetuously. These strange riders reached the banks of the Lynher, and with a terrific leap, the horse and its riders, followed by the hounds, went out far in its waters, disappearing at length in a blaze of fire, which caused the stream to boil for a moment, and then the waters flowed on as tranquilly as ever over the doomed priest. All this happened in the sight of the assembled peasantry. Dando never more was seen, and his fearful death was received as a warning by many, who gave gifts to the church. One amongst them carved a chair for the bishop, and on it he represented Dando and his dogs, that the memory of his wickedness might be always renewed. There, in St. Germans' church, stands to this day the chair, and all who doubt the truth of this tradition may view the story carved in enduring oak.

The name Dando, seems to have mutated to Dondo within the Rame peninsula and along the south coast. Between Rame and the cliffs around Looe the wild hunt of The Dondo still haunt the lonely lanes, wild cliffs and dark woodlands.  Between Halloween and Candlemas, they can be witnessed on dark stormy nights,  and are traditionally seen as an eerie portent to a shipwreck. The Dondo also hunts the souls of the recently deceased and is sometimes seen disappearing into the cliffs between the Brawn and the Long Stone, to the east of Downderry. The Dondo’s ghostly wagon can also be heard rattling along the nearby lanes carrying the dead and collecting the odd lost traveller for good measure. (7) 

Bodmin Moor wild hunt at Dozmary Pool. 

(Churchman cigarette card number 2 from the Legends of Britain series)

Notes.

1. Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt

2. The Pencarrow Hunt by Merv Davey. Lien Gwerin No. 3 

3. Mentioned in the introduction to Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt

4. Haunted Britain by Antony D. Hippisley Coxe, p 16

5. Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt

 6. A medieval misericord carving of Dando and his dogs can be viewed in St Germans church

7. Memory, Place and Identity, The Cultural Landscapes of Cornwall edited by Garry Tregidga, pp 104, 105

Words © Alex Langstone. Image at top of page © Paul Atlas-Saunders.

Folklore of the Roseland Peninsula

Roseland Folklore

Alex Langstone

The Roseland peninsula is situated roughly midway along the southern Cornish shore and lies between the Carrick Roads to the west and Mevagissey Bay in the east. The district boasts pretty villages, sandy beaches and the small town of St Mawes, which lies at mouth of the Percuil River. The small port is named after St Maudez, a 6^th Century monk, who was popular in Brittany. [i] He may have been Welsh or Irish and had one of his first settlements on the south coast of Cornwall.  The towns holy well is named after the saint, and may have formed part of his hermitage, as local lore claims that Maudez created a chair in the rock above the well. [ii] The old well later became a wishing well, where pins were dropped into it to gain favours. [iii]

At the other end of the peninsula lies the village of Veryan, where in the 19th century, vicar and local land owner Jeremiah Trist built the famous round house sentinels that guard the main road in and out of the village. They were built between 1815 and 1818 and each have a thatched roof crowned by a cross. The round nature of each building was described as ‘preventing the devil from entering the village, as there are no corners to hide in’.  

 

There is a curious tradition connected to Veryan parish church. It states that should the church clock strike on the Sunday morning during the singing of the hymn before the sermon, or before the ‘collect against perils’ at Evening Prayer, there will be a death in the parish before the following Sunday. [iv]

Just outside the village, around a mile or so lies Carne Beacon, a large Bronze Age barrow whose folkloric story lays claim to be the last resting place of King Gerennius. His body was brought across Gerrans Bay, from his castle at Dingerein, on a golden boat with silver oars, and both the boat, the oars and the king still wearing his crown were buried in the barrow.[v] Sadly, when Carne Beacon was excavated, only a cist with some cremated remains were discovered. Maybe they needed to dig deeper?                                                     

Nearby at Dingerein Castle hill fort lies the Mermaid’s Hole, a subterranean passage, which was said to link the castle to the sea.[vi] Possibly alluding to a lost tale or tradition. Folklorist Margaret Courtney had this to say about the legend of Dingerein and the Mermaid’s Hole:

His palace of Dingerein was in the neighbouring village of Gerrans. A subterranean passage, now known as Mermaid's Hole, one day discovered when ploughing a field, was supposed to have led from it to the sea.

There is a cave below Penarrin Point [vii] which is named after one of the most famous sons of Cornish folklore, Jan Tregeagle, and when storms rage across this part of the Roseland coast, it is blamed on Tregeagle’s spirit, which haunts the cave and conjures storms in league with the devil himself.

Just to the north of Veryan, lies the hamlet of Bessy Beneath, where oral tradition concludes that either a witch or highwaywoman was hanged and buried at the crossroads. However, the name may possibly be an English corruption of the Cornish bosveneth meaning a hillside dwelling [viii]

The ancient crossing at King Harry Ferry has an interesting tale associated with its founding. It was often repeated in days gone by that King Hal crossed the river at this spot with his queen on his back. The river here is several fathoms deep, so King Hal must have been a giant to be able to afford this great feat. Those that cross here today, will recall that just upstream of the ferry, mighty ocean-going ships are often laid up for repair, confirming how deep the river is at this particular crossing.                                                                           

The old church at St Anthony, not far from the lighthouse, at the sea ward end of the peninsula, lies close to where the former priory of St Mary de Vale once stood. The site of the Priory is cursed. It was the last prior who laid the curse upon the site, after Henry VIII visited and told him that the priory and its surrounding lands days were numbered. The curse stated that the new owner and his family would all die prematurely. The new holder of the lands died soon after he took over, and so did all his family.[ix]

---

[i] The Saints of Cornwall by Catherine Rachel John, p 54

[ii] Ancient and Holy Wells by L & M Quiller Couch p 147

[iii] Ibid p 150

[iv] Cornish Feasts and Folklore by M A Courtney, p 102

[v] Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt, p 459

[vi] Cornish Feasts and Folklore by M A Courtney, p 103

[vii] The Folklore of Cornwall by Deane and Shaw p 84

[viii] A Concise Dictionary of Cornish Place-Names by Craig Weatherhill

[ix] Cornish Feasts and Folklore by M A Courtney, p 102

Article first published in Meyn Mamvro, number 98, Spring/Summer 2019

© Alex Langstone

NEW BOOK! Sensing the Earth

A few months ago, during the first lock-down, (March - June 2020) I was delighted to be invited to contribute to a new book entitled 'Sensing the Earth - Messages from the Wisdom Keepers'. The book is now available and is edited by Peter Knight and Sue Wallace. Inside you will find over 250 pages of diverse and interesting content, each written by one of 53 different contributors. Alongside myself, there are chapters from George Monbiot, Philip Carr-Gomm, Paul Devereux, Hugh Newman, Caitlin Matthews, Greta Thunberg and many many others (including friends, Yuri Leitch, Cheryl Straffon and Gary Biltcliffe). This is a truly eclectic and inspiring collaboration, subject matter includes environmentalism, earth mysteries, shamanism, nature, sacred sites, the re-enchantment of the land and ancient traditions. Fully illustrated with loads of colour photos and inspiring art. Please click book cover for purchasing details.

The Cornish Bunch

  The Folkloric Tradition of the Cornish Bunch

Alex Langstone

The Cornish Bunch is a lovely old custom, that allows us to easily make something authentic and creative for our homes at Christmas. Two withy hoops are fastened together at right angles, and these  are covered with holly, ivy and other evergreens. Traditionally the foliage used would have been what was available to pick in the locality. A red candle is placed at the base and an apple is secured to hang down above it. These were hung from the ceiling on Winter Solstice eve, where just before midnight, the red candle was very carefully lit. Then those assembled would form a ring underneath the bush, and perform a dance to welcome the rebirth of the sun.

In much the same way as kissing under the Mistletoe, it is customary in Cornwall to kiss under the bunch, and by doing this, luck was procured for the coming New Year. For areas where Mistletoe doesn't naturally grow, and is hard to come by, this is a great alternative. 

In the past, the Cornish Bunch was hung from the central beam of farmhouse kitchens across Cornwall, and was a centre piece to the seasonal celebrations. It was also sometimes hung in the largest window, where it was believed to be a good luck charm.

How to make a Cornish bunch

The easiest way to make a Cornish Bunch is to make two hoops from rolled up chicken wire, which is then formed into two individual hoops with a diameter of around 45 cm. These hoops then need to be secured together at right angles. Using chicken wire is great, as it gives a good base for attaching the foliage.

Once secured, you can decorate with holly, ivy and other evergreens. You may need to secure the foliage with floristry wire. Finish it all off with either an apple or a Christmas bauble hanging from the top, and a red candle in the base. 

I usually dispense with the candle, as I do not consider it is safe to have a lighted candle within the foliage. But a battery powered candle or lantern would suffice. As an alternative, I tend to finish the base with red berries.

All of the examples illustrated were handmade by myself, and are hung in the kitchen of our farm cottage in the Camel Valley. I usually make the Bunch a few days before the Winter Solstice, and remove it on New Year's Day. 

It is a great way to observe the rebirth of the Winter Solstice sun; and to celebrate one of the old folk-traditions of a Cornish Christmas.

Article originally published 10 December 2020.

Re-published in Cornwall Life 04 December 2021

A Delve into Essex Folk-Magic in Easthorpe

 

You can read all about my investigation into the witchcraft, cunning-folk, and the mysterious and enigmatic Sheela-na-Gig in the north-east Essex village of Easthorpe in my article  - 

The Easthorpe Witches, Essex Folk-Magic and the Sheela-na-gig. 

Now published in the brand new edition of The Enquiring Eye: Journal of the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic

Click here to grab a copy direct from the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic online shop

Homage to the Uffington White Horse

The fabulous MOOF magazine issue 8, Summer 2020 arrived over the weekend. The magazine is packed with psychedelia and strangeness. Contents include interviews with Maxine Sanders, Zandra Rhodes and the latest incarnation of Gong, plus fab articles on John Michell and the Earth Mysteries movement, new music reviews and a recommended list of British counterculture literature. Also included is my own homage to the folklore and psychogeography of the Uffington white horse and the surrounding vale, with a wonderful accompanying illustration of the White Horse by Paul Atlas-Saunders. 

You can order MOOF here

Paul can be contacted here

Lien Gwerin 4 now available

Contents:

Crossing Water by Moonlight              Alex Langstone

The Ringers of Egloshayle                   Merv Davey

Mysteries of the Lizard                        Steve Patterson

Cornish Droll Tellers                           Ronald M. James          

Music in Cornish Folklore                   Kiera Smitheram

Legend of Derwin and Mora               Alan M. Kent

Ghost-Layers and Ghost-Laying         R. Wilkins Rees

Fully illustrated, including work from artists Paul Atlas-Saunders and Tamsyn Swingler

The journal is now available to purchase here:

The Egloshayle Ringers by Salt and Sky. saltandskymusic.com

You can find out more about this folk tune in Merv Davey's article in Lien Gwerin 4

PLUS

Do you know where Cornwall's only triple hare carving can be viewed? Find out in Lien Gwerin 4

Kresen Kernow donation

I recently had the pleasure of  visiting Kresen Kernow, the brand new Cornish archive centre in Redruth, where I donated a copy of my Cornish folklore title, From Granite to Sea, which explores the folklore and traditions of Bodmin Moor and East Cornwall. It will now proudly sit amongst their other Cornish folklore titles which came before to inspire me.

Pathways to the Past 2019

On Sunday 26th May, I will be presenting material from my recent book From Granite to Sea as part of the Pathways to the Past 2019 event. £5 entry, (CASPN members free). 8pm in the Mayor's Parlour, Old Town Hall, St Just, Penzance, Cornwall. I will have signed copies of the book for sale. 

We are very excited to announce that Lien Gwerin number 3 is now available to order via Lulu print-on-demand. Please click the buy now link below. This service is available worldwide, and the journal will be printed locally and sent out to you within a few days. Lulu.com is our trusted partner in this venture and has a proven track record in quality and great customer service. 

BUY NOW

Boscastle Wassail and Old Christmas

Old Christmas and Wassail

January 6th 2019

Guizing and Wassailing on the harbour side, outside the Museum of Witchcraft and Magic. All are welcome to this free event, celebrating some of the traditional Cornish folk-traditions of Midwinter. With Merv and Alison Davey, Alex Langstone and a host of guizers, mast-beasts and musicians.

All Hallows Eve, Cala' Gwav and Allantide

A look at the folkloric customs associated with 

Halloween in Cornwall

by Alex Langstone

Traditional turnip lantern and Allan apples. Illustration by Paul Atlas-Saunders

Historic details of the traditional celebration of 31st October in Cornwall are scant, to say the least. But there does seem to be remnants of something tangible, that was marked as a calendar custom, at least during the nineteenth century. The Cornish language for the seasonal change at All Hallows was called Cala' Gwav, meaning the first day of winter and in Penzance and St Ives we have a couple of written accounts of how the festival of ‘Allantide’ or ‘Allan Day’ was celebrated.

In Lostwithiel and district we have clues that seem to knit together the recognition of All Hallows Eve with ‘Penny for the Guy’ and Bonfire night, and in Stratton, we have a fantastic account of a full-on festival of fireworks, hill-top bonfires, traditional music, outlandish costumes and fiery processions through the heart of the North Cornwall town.

In the traditional Cornish mining town of Camborne, we have an interesting seasonal tale of ‘Up in a Cold Ivy Tree’, which was traditionally told on All Souls Eve. The tale incorporates the divinatory ‘Hemp-seed charm’, which was associated with this particular time of year, and close to Newquay, we have folkloric associations with All Hallows and the holy well at Holywell Bay.

It was Margaret Ann Courtney, the nineteenth century Penzance folklorist who collected the Allantide information that is often repeated today. This early draft, from the 1886 Folklore Journal, describes the old traditions from Penzance and district. Much of this information would be later published in 1890, in her most well-known work, Cornish Feasts and Folklore.

On the nearest Saturday to Hallowe'en, October 31st, the fruiterers of Penzance display in their windows very large apples, known locally as Allan apples. These were formerly bought by the inhabitants and all the country people from the neighbourhood (for whom Penzance is the market-town), and one was given to each member of the family to be eaten for luck. The elder girls put theirs, before they ate them, under their pillows, to dream of their sweethearts. A few of the apples are still sold; but the custom, which, I have lately been told, was also observed at St. Ives, is practically dying out. On Allantide, at Newlyn West, two strips of wood are joined crosswise by a nail in the centre, at each of the four ends a lighted candle is stuck, with apples hung between. This is fastened to a beam, or the ceiling of the kitchen, and made to revolve rapidly. The players, who try to catch the apples in their mouths, often get instead a taste of the candle. In Cornwall, as in other parts of England, many charms were tried on Hallowe'en to discover with whom you were to spend your future life, or if you were to remain unmarried, such as pouring melted lead through the handle of the front door key. The fantastic shapes it assumed foretold your husband's profession or trade. Rolling three names, each written on a separate piece of paper, tightly in the centre of three balls of earth. These were afterwards put into a deep basin of water, and anxiously watched until one of them opened, as the name on the first slip which came to the surface would be that of the person you were to marry. Tying the front door key tightly with your left leg garter between the leaves of a Bible at one particular chapter in the Song of Solomon. It was then held on the forefinger, and when the sweetheart's name was mentioned it turned round. Slipping a wedding-ring on to a piece of cotton, held between the forefinger and thumb, saying, "If my husband’s name is to be let this ring swing! " Of course, when the name of the person preferred was spoken, the holder unconsciously made the ring oscillate.

Robert Hunt also recorded some ‘Allantide’ traditions in Popular Romances of the West of England, where he had the following to say: 

The ancient custom of providing children with a large apple on Allhallows-eve is still observed, to a great extent, at St Ives. "Allan-day," as it is called, is the day of days to hundreds' of children, who would deem it a great misfortune were they to go to bed on "Allan-night" without the time-honoured Allan apple to hide beneath their pillows. A quantity of large apples are thus disposed of the sale of which is dignified by the term Allan Market. 

 A first-hand account from the historic Stannary town of Lostwithiel, records that up until the 1960s the children of the town would mark the seasonal change at All Hallows by carving turnip lanterns and making a ‘penny for the Guy’. The emphasis for the celebration was a combined focus, mixing All Hallows Eve turnip lamps and the lead up to Bonfire night with the emphasis on collecting money with the ‘penny for the Guy’. 

A traditional All Hallows’ tale, once told in Camborne was called ‘Up in a Cold Ivy-Tree’ The tale deals with the theme of lost love, treachery and betrayal, and features the hemp seed charm, that is mentioned elsewhere within Cornish folklore. The divination charm, which was traditionally performed either in a churchyard or woodland, was cast to give foresight, to see if a girl’s sweetheart would follow her and be true. 

 “Hemp-seed I sow, hemp-seed I grow; let my young man come after me and mow.” 

The tale goes something like this. A young lady was betrothed to be married to her sweetheart, but as the day grew nearer, his love had begun to cool. She wondered what was occurring, fearing another woman and as All Hallows was approaching, she decided to repeat the ‘Hemp-seed charm’ to ‘try his faith’. She decided to go and view her favoured spot, deep within the local woods, by day to check it was clear of any fallen branches or other such things that she might trip over when she returned on the night of All Hallows Eve. When she arrived at her favoured and secret spot, she was surprised to find a newly dug grave under the tree. She could not understand why this had been dug at this spot, so she decided to return a bit earlier than planned, to see if she could discover what was going on, before she cast her spell. Upon her return at dusk, she decided to climb up into the branches of the overhanging tree and wait to see what happened. For a few hours, all was quiet, but as the church clock struck midnight, she heard footfalls from the darkness. It was her young man carrying a hatchet under his arm. He waited by the grave, and it seemed he was waiting for someone else to arrive. However, no-one came, and after a while he left for home, somewhat agitated. At day-break, she decided that it was safe to descend from the tree and she ran home. A few days later her young man called for her, and this is what was said: 

 Boy: Where did you sleep last Saturday night? Girl: Up in a cold ivy-tree, two foal foxes under me, digging a grave to bury me. First I heard a cock crow, then I heard the wind blow, then I heard the chimb-chamb, chewing up his bridle, then I heard the water man, turn the engine idle. 

There are other stories which feature the All Hallows Hemp seed incantation. The Spectre Bridegroom by Hunt and Nancy Trenoweth, the Fair Daughter of the Miller of Alsia, by Bottrell. These two tales, retold in their own inimitable style clearly show the spell being worked around Halloween. In other stories the same spell is performed at Midsummer, showing that above all, these two festivals were powerful times of divination and magic. 

It was All-hallows Eve, and two of Nancy's companions persuaded her -no very difficult task-to go with them and sow hemp-seed. At midnight, the three maidens stole out unperceived into Kimyall town-place to perform their incantation. Nancy was the first to sow, the others being less bold than she. Boldly she advanced, saying, as she scattered the seed, "Hemp-seed I sow thee, Hemp seed grow thee; and he who wilt my true love be, come after me and shaw thee." 

William Bottrell’s version of the tale is more descriptive - 

So overpowering was the desire of Nancy Trenoweth to know the fate of her lover and if it were destined for her ever to become the bride of Lanyon, that, in company with two other love-sick damsels who were equally agitated by hopes and fears. she assayed what was then regarded as one of the most potent and fearful incantations, to induce the Powers of Darkness to lift the veil from that portion of their future destiny which they regarded as the main object of their existence; when Allhallows eve came, they had all three prepared for the spell of sowing hemp-seed. Near the midnight hour, with the moon shining bright, Nancy left the house quietly (for fear of disturbing the old couple, who had long retired to rest), and met her companions in the town-place, where they had agreed to meet and work their spells. Nancy and one of her companions drew their circles at a good distance from, but within sight of, each other. Nancy was the first to sow the magic grains, and pronounce the seemingly harmless incantation of — "Hemp-seed! I sow thee. Hemp-seed, grow thee, and he who will my true love be, come after me, and mow thee." 

No sooner were the words three times spoken than a lurid thundercloud obscured the light of the moon. At the same instant a cloud of mist came sweeping in from over sea, rolled up the cleves with the speed of a whirlwind, came careering on to Kimyel town-place, and gathered around the circle in which Nancy stood, trembling with affright at the fearful visions her spells had summoned. The wind rose to a violent tempest, and the waves seemed to be breaking and surging around her. The dark clouds overhead became one sheet of flashing flames, which showed her The Apparition of Lanyon, surrounded by the surging waves and dripping wet, as if he had been drawn through the sea. He stood before her, dressed in outlandish garb—with a long and flowing coal-black beard, and glared on Nancy with such a look of terrible anger that she gave a fearful shriek, and the vision instantly disappeared. 

The relationship between All Hallows and Bonfire Night is intriguing. As previously stated, in Lostwithiel during the mid-twentieth century, the two observances were inextricably linked. Therefore, it is interesting to note a few other traditions at this time of year, which were practised across Cornwall. The beginning of November sees the old observance of ringing night. Held on the 4th November, the church bells were rung from town and village across Cornwall to announce the foiled gunpowder plot and the commemoration of this, which would take place the following night. On the 5th in Padstow, Skip Skop Night was once celebrated by the local youths, who would project stones at doors and beg for money to buy fireworks. If no money was given a shower of limpets and dirt would be thrown. On the same night flaming tar barrels were once paraded through Fowey, until in 1862 the local authorities fined two men for lighting barrels in the town centre. 

The most celebrated of the 5th November festivals was held at Stratton, and Margaret Courtney describes the event in all its glorious pageantry. 

The Bude fife and drum band headed a grotesque procession, formed at Howl's Bridge, and second in order came a number of equestrian torch-bearers in all kinds of costumes, furnished by wardrobes of Her Majesty's navy, the Royal Marines, the Yeomanry, and numerous other sources. ' Guido Faux ' followed in his car, honoured by a postilion and a band of Christy Minstrels; then came foot torch-bearers, and a crowd of enthusiastic citizens, who ' hurraed ' to their hearts' content. Noticeable were the banners, ' Success to Young Stratton,' the Cornish arms, and ' God save the Queen.' The display of fireworks took place from a field overlooking the town, and the inhabitants grouped together at points of vantage to witness the display. The bonfire was lit on Stamford Hill, where the carnival ended. Good order and good humour prevailed. 

The famed holy well found inside a craggy tidal cave at Holywell Bay in the parish of St Cubert, was once visited and revered on All Hallows Day due to first having its virtues discovered on the feast of All Hallows. This is one of the most unique holy wells in Britain. Only reached at low tide, this remarkable well is truly bound by the elements. The qualities of this healing place have seen miraculous cures over the centuries. 

This well has Nature only for its architect, no mark of man's hand being seen in its construction; a pink enamelled basin, filled by drippings from the stalactitic roof, forms a picture of which it is difficult to describe the loveliness. 

© Alex Langstone

References:

  The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 4 1886, p 111
  Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt: ‘All Hallows Eve at St Ives’
  Caroline Blick, personal correspondence 'Lostwithiel All Hallows and penny for the guy'
  Old Cornwall Vol III No 5, Summer 1938: Up in a Cold Ivy-Tree by Bessie Wallace, p 205
  The Folklore of Cornwall by Tony Deane and Tony Shaw, p 171
  Cornish Feasts and Folklore by Margaret Courtney, pp 4 - 5
  Ibid, p 3
  Ancient and Holy Wells of Cornwall by Mabel and Lilian Quiller Couch, p 56

For more Cornish Folklore, check out my book, available from Troy Books. Click the image below to find out more.

#ASHMag30 'celebrating diversity and creativity'

It was on the 16th October 1988, that the first issue of ASH magazine was published. The team had been gathered by stalwart Essex earth mysteries researcher and cunning man Dave Hunt. He  began to recruit team members from a diverse source: from Earthquest, the local witchcraft scene, from his own questing group 'New E.R.A' and from the esoteric Christian community. 

The idea was to have a divergent group of people, who would become the editorial team. The magazine was to be run as a cooperative, with no one in overall charge, and it worked. We gathered each month at the Scout Hut in Church Road, Vange, Essex, where we would garner intentions and share our written work, before deciding on what went in the magazine.

L - R. Dave Hunt, Claire Capon and Ian Dawson

 Picture credit: Claire Capon-Hawley

L - R. Jim Kirkwood, Ian Dawson, Alex Langstone and  Dave Hunt

Picture credit: Claire Capon-Hawley

We all had our own ideas and we quickly became an interesting, productive and creative hub. We also attracted some well known names to write for us, and due to the broad subjects we were covering, we had a broader appeal than some of the other counter-culture and earth mysteries magazines of the 1980s.

Many side projects were spawned. Psychic quests manifested, music was written, marsh-magic was conjured and art was created, both out in the landscape and in the studio. A good time was had by the liminal shore.

At the magazine's height, two successive, successful 'Esoterica' conferences were staged, plus a book launch for Bega and the Sacred Ring. It was the time where the seeds of future aspirations were being sown upon the shore of dreams.

The original team were: Dave Hunt, Ian Dawson, Jim Kirkwood, Claire Capon and Alex Langstone, with others joining us later, including Yuri Leitch as illustrator.

Look out for the hashtag #ASHMag30 on social media for more memorabilia.

Artwork by Yuri Leitch, capturing the spirit of the Michael Line Rally, 1991

Jim Kirkwood's striking cover art for ASH no. 9