“God keep us from rocks and shelving sands, And save us from Breage and Germoe men’s lands.” Happily those days are almost forgotten. The ameliorating influences of the Christian faith, which was let in upon a most benighted people by John Wesley, like a sunbeam, dispelled those evil principles, and gave birth to pure and simple virtues. St Keyne, or St Kenna, is said to have visited St Michael’s Mount, and imparted this peculiar virtue to a stone chair on the tower. St Kieran, the favourite Celtic saint, reached Scotland from Ireland, the precursor of St Columba, (565 A.D.) “The cave of St Kieran is still shewn in Kintyre, where the first Christian teacher of the Western Highlands is believed to have made his abode.”—Wilson’s Prehistoric Annals. There is a curious resemblance between the deeds and the names of those two saints. “Mr Hals says this place is called Donecheniv in ‘Domesday Survey.’ Dunechine would mean the fortress of the chasm, corresponding precisely with its situation.”—Davies Gilbert. Who was the spirit Gathon? “The miner starts as he hears the mischievous Gathon answering blow for blow the stroke of his pickaxe, or deluding him with false fires, noises, and flames.”—A Guide to the Coasts of Devon and Cornwall. Mackenzie Walcott, M.A. Carne, in his “Tales of the West,” alludes to this:—“The miners have their full share of the superstitious feelings of the country, and often hear with alarm the noises, as it were, of other miners at work deep underground, and at no great distance. The rolling of the barrows, the sound of the pickaxes, and the fall of the earth and stones, are distinctly heard through the night,—often, no doubt, the echo of their own labours; but sometimes continued long after that labour has ceased, and occasionally voices seem to mingle with them. Gilbert believed that he was peculiarly exposed to these visitations; he had an instinctive shrinking from the place where the accident had happened; and, when left alone there, it was in vain that he plied his toil with desperate energy to divert his thoughts. Another person appeared to work very near him: he stayed the lifted pick and listened. The blow of the other fell distinctly, and the rich ore followed it in a loud rolling; he checked the loaded barrow that he was wheeling; still that of the unknown workman went on, and came nearer and nearer, and then there followed a loud, faint cry, that thrilled through every nerve of the lonely man, for it seemed like the voice of his brother. These sounds all ceased on a sudden, and those which his own toil caused were the only ones heard, till, after an interval, without any warning, they began again, at times more near, and again passing away to a distance.”—The Tale of the Miner. “Now well! now well! the angel did say To certain poor shepherds in the fields who lay Late in the night, folding their sheep; A winter’s night, both cold and deep. Now well! now well! now well! Born is the King of Israel!” The song is by the late C. Taylor Stevens of St Ives, who was for some time the rural postman to Zennor. I employed Mr Taylor Stevens for some time collecting all that remains of legendary tales and superstitions in Zennor and Morva. The net is spelled sometimes Seine at others Sean. “MERRY SEAN LADS. “With a cold north wind and a cockled sea, Or an autumn’s cloudless day, At the huer’s bid, to stem we row, Or upon our paddles play. All the signs, ‘East, West, and Quiet, Could Roos,’ too well we know; We can bend a stop, secure a cross, For brave sean lads are we! Chorus—We can bend a stop, secure a cross, For brave sean lads are we! “If we have first stem when heva comes, We’ll the huer’s bushes watch; We will row right off or quiet lie, Flying summer sculls to catch. And when he winds the towboat round, We will all ready be, When he gives Could Roos, we’ll shout hurrah! Merry sean lads are we! Chorus—When he gives Could Roos, we’ll shout hurrah! Merry sean lads are we! “When the sean we’ve shot, upon the tow, We will heave with all our might, With a heave! heave O! and rouse! rouse O! Till the huer cries, ‘All right.’ Then on the bunt place kegs and weights, And next to tuck go we. We’ll dip, and trip, with a ‘Hip hurrah!’ Merry sean lads are we! Chorus—We’ll dip, and trip, with a ‘Hip hurrah!’ Merry sean lads are we!” |