Marec was loath to part with his brother, but his fancy was so fired with what the captain told him about a people, living near them, who were skilled in magic, that he ardently desired to visit their country, and, if possible, acquire some of their extraordinary wisdom.
Arluth, on becoming acquainted with his wishes, furnished a vessel with such merchandise as would meet with a ready sale in the wise-men"s country; equipped his brother in every way becoming his rank, and dispatched him and Uter under the care of trustworthy persons.
Marec remained a long while studying among the magicians, and learned many curious arts, unknown in western lands. He also married a beautiful and rich lady, who was gifted with many rare accomplishments, and Uter wedded her favourite damsel.
In about three years, the old captain--who, in the meantime, had made a voyage to Market-jew for tin--came to the sage"s country on purpose to inform Marec that his father had long been dead, and how the people on his estate had sent him money and wished for his speedy return.
Pengersec"s heart then yearned for his home and his people; he told his wife how in the pleasant land, towards the setting sun, gentle showers descended, all summer long, like dews distilled from Heaven, and kept the fields ever verdant; how crops succeeded crops throughout the year, which was like a perpetual spring compared with the arid land in which they then dwelt. He said how hills and dales were covered with fat herds in that happy land, whose inhabitants had not to hunt half-starved wild animals for their subsistence, but only followed the chase for pastime; how by a process, unknown in other lands, a liquor was there brewed from grain, which made those who drank it as strong as giants and brave as lions; how the Cornish people merely washed the soil of their valleys and found metals--more precious than silver or gold.
"That is the tin, to obtain which your eastern mariners make their longest and most dangerous voyages," said Pengersec--as we shall now call Marec--"besides," continued he, "I have a strong and fair castle in a green valley by the sea; I will build thee a bower by the murmuring sh.o.r.e, where we will have delightful gardens and everything for pleasure." "Say no more, my beloved, about the delights of thy land,"
she replied, "for I shall little regard that when thou art by; thy home shall be mine wherever thou choosest to dwell; and whenever it pleaseth thee let us depart."
After procuring many magical books and other things, necessary for the practice of occult sciences, Pengersec and his lady, with Uter and his spouse, took leave of the sages and made sail for home.
On the way, Pengersec stayed some time with King Arluth, who presented him with a foal of the choicest stock of his country; he also sent on board, unknown to his brother, bales of brocade, and various rich stuffs of gold and silver tissue, besides pearls, precious stones, and other valuable things; and, promising to revisit each other, they took loving leave.
The lady pa.s.sed much time on deck playing on her harp, its sweet music kept the weather fair, drew dolphins and other fishes from the depths of the sea to sport around and follow the ship to Mount"s Bay; thence it came to pa.s.s that on our coast were found many rare fishes--never before seen here.
When the young lord and his beautiful bride landed at Market-jew, the people--one and all--came from near and far away to welcome them.
Bonfires blazed on every hill; weeks were pa.s.sed in feasting at Pengersec, where archery, hurling, slinging, wrestling, and other games were carried on that the fair stranger might see our Cornish sports; at night, minstrels and droll-tellers did their utmost to divert the company.
The lady of the castle took much delight in her new home; she often pa.s.sed the mornings with her husband in hunting; she rode over moors and hills with a hawk on her wrist or a bow in her hand. At eve her harp would be heard in Pengersec towers sending joyous strains over sea and land; then fishermen would rest on their oars, and sea-birds--forgetting their nightly places of rest in the western cleeves--remained entranced around the castle.
The people were much pleased with the outlandish lady, who admired their unbounded hospitality to strangers, their primitive manners, simplicity of heart, and sincerity of intention; for they appeared to her as absolutely ignorant of fraud or flattery, as if they had never heard of such a thing; she found them to be of a free, facetious temper, though of a somewhat curious and inquisitive disposition--the women especially.
The lady thought our ancient language sounded much like her eastern tongue, and that made her feel all the more at home.
Pengersec was no sooner fairly settled than he built two broad and lofty towers--united by a gallery--on the seaward side of his castle. The easternmost tower was constructed with everything requisite for his magic art; in the other were placed his lady"s private apartments, overlooking pleasant gardens, the green glen, and boundless ocean.
When Pengersec returned, his stepmother was still immured in her dark chamber. In a little while, however, she fretted herself to death, and the breath no sooner left her body than she returned to haunt the rooms formerly occupied by her in the castle. Pengersec had that portion of the building at once rased to the ground, but her hideous ghost still continued to wander about the place.
Now it was that the young lord essayed the power of his art to some purpose, for, by his enchantment, he confined her to a hole in a headland, west of Pengersec Cove, called the How, and compelled her to a.s.sume the form of an uncommonly large adder, in which shape she is still occasionally seen there, if what people of that neighbourhood say, be true.
Over a few years, Pengersec became so much attached to occult sciences that he devoted nearly all his time to their practice; he was seldom seen beyond his castle, and, even there, he almost continually shut himself up in his tower, where he was never approached except by his lady and Uter, both of whom a.s.sisted him in such operations as required help. Fires would be seen--through loop-holes in his tower--blazing all night long; and the flames ascended high above the battlements when he changed base metals into silver and gold.
If his fire happened to go out he rekindled it by sparks drawn from the sun, by means of a magic crystal. With the same gla.s.s, or another, he also saw what was being done in distant lands.
A person, who came from far to see the magician"s wonders, on looking into or through this gla.s.s, beheld in the castle-court what appeared to be an uncommonly large bird carrying in its mouth a baulk of timber; on taking away the gla.s.s he could only see a duck with a straw in her bill.
Pengersec paid no attention to his farms, which were left to Uter"s management; the lord, indeed, had no reason to care about them whilst he could make gold in abundance.
But this untold riches was about the least important fruit of his science, for--ere he became middle-aged--he concocted a magical elixir, or water-of-life, which preserved him, his lady, and others in their youthful vigour.
The lord of Pengersec was soon renowned in all the west as a most powerful enchanter, whom everybody feared to molest--and well they might. Some one from the Mount, having a mind to his fat sheep, carried one of them down to the cliff, tied its legs together, and pa.s.sed them over his head. At this instant, however, the enchanter, happening to glance at his magic gla.s.s, saw what was taking place, and put a spell on the thief that made him remain in the same spot all the night with the tide rising around him and the sheep hanging from his neck. The enchanter released the thief in the morning and gave him the sheep with a caution not to meddle with his flocks again or he would be served out worse.
"Tis said, too, that Venna, who was now a noted wise-woman or witch--living at St. Hillar Downs--often had contests with the enchanter to test the relative powers of their familiars; they contended with spells and counter-spells from mere pride of art. We omit the details because they would merely be a repet.i.tion of much that has been related in the foregoing stories of witchcraft and pellar-craft.
At times the lord would be seen careering over moors and hills, mounted on his handsome mare, brought from the east; she excelled every other steed for swiftness; a whisper from him would make her as docile as a lamb, though she was quite unmanageable with everybody else.
The castle servants were frequently alarmed by hearing the enchanter conjuring, in an unknown tongue, the unruly spirits that he required to serve him; or by loud explosions. Pungent and fiery vapours, that threatened to consume the building, often sent their strong odours for miles around. At such times the frightened inmates sought their lady"s aid; who, on taking her harp to the enchanter"s tower, soon drove away or subdued the evil spirits by the power of its melody. One time the magician left his furnaces and their fires to the care of his attendant whilst he went to pa.s.s a while in his lady"s bower; he had not been long there when something told him that mischief was taking place in his tower. On hastening thither he found the attendant, Uter, had neglected his duty; and, by reading in one of the magical books, had called up evil spirits in such numbers that in another instant they would have destroyed him; and it required all the enchanter"s power to subdue them.
Many years elapsed. The lord had a numerous family--of whom he took little heed. Some of them were settled on farms, others had been adopted by their uncle, King Arluth, who frequently sent his brother rare drugs, spices, and other things, required by him for making his precious liquor of life. The lady, having outlived all her children and grandchildren, became weary of existence in a world, or amidst a people, that seemed strange to her--all those of her own age being long dead--and wishing to rest with her children, though loath to leave her husband, she often begged him to discontinue prolonging his life; and he--as on former occasions, for the last hundred years or so--always promised her to leave the world when he had perfected some new essay of his art, which was all in all to him. His wife, however, neglected to take the life-cordial, and, at length, rested beneath the sod.
Their numerous descendants were known--as the custom was then--by the names of places on which they dwelt; only one of them is particularly mentioned by name in the legend; this was a lady, who lived in Pengersec Castle at the time that a Welsh Prince, from having heard of the Cornish magician"s renown, came over to him for instruction, and before his departure married the beautiful Lamorna, who was the sage"s great-granddaughter.
The Welsh Prince, having sent a quant.i.ty of black stones to Pengersec, he extracted from them a sort of liquid-fire, which, by some mismanagement, burst its containing vessels, and an instant afterwards all was in flames. The magician was consumed with all his books and treasures; the castle and all it held destroyed, leaving nothing but the bare walls.
It is said that Venna, the witch, prolonged her life also--without the aid of Pengersec"s elixir--by merely enticing to her habitation, and keeping there, goats and young people. From them, by some means of her craft, she drew their youthful vigour to herself and caused them to pine and die. This wicked practice of hers having being discovered, young folks were carefully kept out of her reach; and to prevent her from doing any more mischief, one night when she was brewing her h.e.l.l-broth, and the flames were seen rising high, the people--to prevent her escape--nailed up her door; put a turf over her chimney-top, and smothered her in the infernal vapours that arose from her hearth.
All the chief people of the story are ended; but had it not been for Pengersec"s untoward accident he might have lived to this day.
We have preserved in the foregoing what may seem to many persons mere childish fancies; if, however, the same incidents should be found in the folk-lore of other lands, they will have an interest for those whose leisure and learning enabled them to trace our popular tales to their fountain-head.
An old tinner of Lelant, who told me the story of "Tom and the giant Denbras," brought into it the incident of Pengersec enchanting a "giant of the Mount" that came to steal his cattle. Much the same story is still told in Sennen of an astrologer, and a reputed conjuror, called Dyonysious Williams, who lived in Mayon about a century ago. This gentleman found that his furse-rick was diminishing much faster than could be accounted for, from the ordinary consumption of fuel in his own house. He consulted his books, and discovered by his art that some women, of Sennen Cove, made it a practice of carrying away his furse every night. The very next night, after all honest folks should be in their beds, an old woman of the Cove came, as usual, to his rick for a "burn" of furse. She made one of no more than the usual size, which she tried to lift on to her back, but found that she could not move it. She then took out half the furse, but was still unable to lift the small quant.i.ty that remained in her rope. Becoming frightened, she tried to get out the rope and run, but found that she had neither the power to draw it out nor to move from the spot herself. Of course the conjuror had put a spell on her, and there she had to remain throughout the cold winter"s night until Mr. Williams came out in the morning and released her from the spell. As she was a very poor old soul, he let her have a burn of furse; but she took good care never to come any more, nor did the other women who soon found out how she had been served.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
NOTES, ILl.u.s.tRATIVE ANECDOTES, &c.
MIRACLE PLAYS, CHRISTMAS PLAYS, &c. Page 1.
The accounts published last spring of Miracle Plays being acted in Yorkshire, by a company of Congregationalists under the direction of a Roman Catholic priest, would seem to indicate a primitive state of society in the north--good feeling and sympathy between members of old mother church and the followers of new lights; and that Yorkshire folks are as much attached to ancient customs as are the Cornish, or even more. Mummery, and the acting of such old Christmas plays as St. George and the Dragon, with the King of Egypt and Fair Sabra his daughter, were favourite pastimes in the northern counties long after they fell into disuse in other parts except Cornwall. These old plays, like our guise-dances, are of very remote origin, and founded probably on the old mysteries now reproduced in Yorkshire; the subject of St. George being introduced at the time of the Crusades. And, if tradition may be credited, our old guise-dances were also often founded on more homely and familiar legends, and these formed the connecting link between old mysteries and the modern drama.
The subject of miracle plays is interesting to us because almost the only remains of ancient Cornish literature are mystery plays. One of them, "The Creation of the World," by William Gordon, of Helstone, in 1611, has been published by the late Mr. Davies Gilbert. Others, of earlier date, have been translated and published by Mr. Norris, to which we may add St. Meriseck, lately translated by Mr. Whitley Stokes. Many of our ancient amphitheatres, where the "Guary miracle" used to be acted--still exist, as the "Round," or plain, in St. Just Church-town; the Plan-an-guary, Redruth; and others farther eastward. In this age of restoration (would it were also one of rest.i.tution) these old Plan-an-guaries should be rebuilt and restored as public places of recreation, common to all.
We know that miracle plays continued to be performed in the western parishes during Queen Elizabeth"s reign, and probably much later. A short time ago, William Sandys, Esq., F.S.A., published in his learned paper, ent.i.tled the "Cornish Drama," in the "Journal of the Royal Inst.i.tution of Cornwall," an extract from a MS. volume, ent.i.tled, "A Book declaring the Royalties of which Sir John Arundell, of Lanhern, and his ancestors, have had within the Hundred of Penwith," &c. which sayeth that--
"Ao. 10, E. John Veal of Boraine, gentleman, of the age of 78. Sworn at a Court holden at Penzance the 20th day of June, Ano decimo E., by William Gilbert, under Steward of the Hundred Court of Penwyth, being upon his oath examined touching the liberties of Connerton, and the Hundred of Penwyth appendant unto the same manor, saith that when he was a Boy of good remembrance his grandfath. and his Father both dwelling then at Sancras, within the hundred of Penwyth, did see one Sr. John Trwrye (or Trevrye) knight, a sanctuary man at St. Borains, which had committed some great offence then against the King, and thereupon committed to the Tower, and by means of a servant which he had, broke prison and came into Cornwall to St. Borian, and claimed the priviledge of the Sanctuary. It fortuned within a while after there was a mirable (sic) Play at Sanckras Parish, divers men came to the play amongst whom came a servant of this Mr. Trevrye, named Quenall and (in the place before the play began) the said Quenall fell at variance with one Richard James Veane, and so both went out of the Play and fought together, the said Quenall had a sword and a buckler, and the other had a single sword, the said Quenall was a very tall man in his Fight, the other gave back and fell over a mole Hill, and ere he could recover himself the said Quenall thrust his sword through him and so he immediately dyed, and Quenall taken and bound to the end of the Play and before the Play was done his Mastr. hearing thereof came to the Place with other Sanctuary men and by force would have taken him away from his said Grandfather, Mr. Veal, and others, but he was not able so to do, but with a sufficient Guard he was carried to Conertone Gaol, where he was after hanged on the Gallows in Conerton Down, and so was more in his time, for there was no prisoner then carried to Launston Gaol."
It will be observed that the name of the parish where the miracle play "fortuned" to be held is, in this interesting doc.u.ment, spelt as the country folk still p.r.o.nounce it--Sanckras. The name has been much speculated on, and antiquaries are undecided whether the proper designation is Sancreed, Sancrist; Sancrus, or Sancras, (both holy cross.) Now it happens, however, that the learned antiquary, to whom we are indebted for the above, has also preserved in his interesting work, "Christmas-tide," another legend which we think will throw some light on the matter and show that the popular name is probably correct; or that, like many other places, it has long rejoiced in two names.
"There is a curious story on the subject, (the true cross) related in Harl. MS., 2252 (temp. Hen. 8) ent.i.tled, "A grete myracle of a knyghte, callyde Syr Roger Wallysborrow." Being in the Holy Land, he wished to bring off privily a piece of the cross, and, praying to that effect, his thigh opened miraculously, and received it. He then returned to Cornwall, his native country, having, in the course of his voyage, by virtue of the fragment of the cross, appeased the elements, and prevented shipwreck. On his arrival his thigh opened to liberate the precious relic, of which he gave part to the parish where this happened, hence called Cross parish, and the remainder to St. Buryan, where his lands were."
Those who came to Sancras play got more entertainment than was promised in the bill. And Carew, in his "Survey of the County," gives an anecdote of the stupidity, feigned or real, of a performer in the Plan-an-guary, St. Just, that afforded much amus.e.m.e.nt. It having come his turn, the ordinary, or manager, said, "Goe forthe men, and shew thyselfe." The actor stepped forward and gravely repeated, "Goe forthe man, and shew thyselfe." The ordinary, in dismay, whispered to him, "Oh, you marre all the play!" The actor, in very emphatic gesture, repeated aloud, "Oh, you marre all the play!" The prompter, then losing his patience, reviled the actor with all the bitter terms he could think of, which the actor repeated with a serious countenance as part of the play. The ordinary was at last obliged to give over, the a.s.sembly having received a great deal more sport than twenty such guaries could have afforded.
We are become too fastidious and pious to be amused with such rude entertainment as the old guary miracles afforded to our simple forefathers. One might even think parts of these ancient dramas irreverent, if not profane; for example, a scene in Noah"s flood, where the venerable patriarch and his wife have a scuffle because she wouldn"t enter the ark before she had a gossip, with another dame, about a piece of anti-diluvian scandal. She swears by St. John that she will not enter the ark without her gossips, every one; and, when she is at last forced in, she salutes Noah with a hearty box on the ear. In the Cornish Mystery of the Creation of the World, by Jordan, the lady is much more civil, and, like a thrifty Cornish housewife, is very careful to collect all her property, because, as she says, "they cost store of money." No doubt she took good care to carry into the ark all her milking-pans and bussa-pots, as well as temberan things and gaard for scouring them, not forgetting her brandes and baking-iron, and the clome in the dresser.
In one of the Townly Mysteries, Mak, the buffoon of the piece, steals a sheep from the shepherds, while they are asleep, and takes it home to his wife, who puts it into the cradle, endeavouring to make it pa.s.s for a child, and praying that if ever she beguiled the shepherds, who have come in search of it, she may eat the child lying there. The trick, however, is discovered. One of the shepherds going to kiss the child, finds the long snout.
There are many other comic pa.s.sages in these mysteries, which would now be considered rather gross than witty. Yet, with all that and their ludicrous anachronisms, those who take an interest in ancient manners and customs will be gratified by their perusal.
Mr. Sandys, in the work from which we have largely quoted, also gives us the following interesting bit of information:--