Cornish Feasts and Folk-lore

by M. A. Courtney

In the beginning of this century, before steam-boats were invented, when communication between Scilly and Penzance (the mainland) depended upon wind and weather, in winter its people were often reduced to great straits for want of provisions, which gave rise to the proverb, “There is always a feast or a fast in Scilly.” This is, however, now far from being the truth, and it is one of the most prosperous parts of Great Britain; its inhabitants, as a rule, are well educated, they are noted for their courteous manners; and for its beautiful scenery Scilly is well worth a visit. The dialect of its poorer people, as also the tones of their voices (each island has its peculiarity), differ from those of the same class in West Cornwall. Their pronunciation rather resembles the Irish. Thread with them is tread, the th at the beginning of words being rarely sounded, pint is point, and point pint.

Irreverent people declare that when Ireland was made some little bits of earth fell from the shovel and formed Scilly. Certain it is that when St. Patrick drove out all venomous reptiles from the former place he did the same kind service to the latter. The island of St. Agnes was particularly favoured, for until recently there was not a rat on it, they were introduced from a wrecked vessel.

Small as St. Mary’s is (about three miles long and nine around) it boasts of two capitals; the modern one dates from the time of Queen Elizabeth, and is called Hugh Town; before that Old Town was the principal village. At the east of Old Town Bay is Tolman Point (a corruption, I suppose, of Tôl Mên, the holed stone). Of it an old legend says when Scilly was under the monks of Tavistock, and Old Town the only port of St. Mary’s, that they drew a chain from “Tollman head” across the entrance, and levied a toll from all who embarked and landed there, not excepting the fishermen. It was abolished by Richard Plantagenet, who, coming disguised to the port, was not recognized by the friar in charge, who demanded from him his dues. Upon which Earl Richard, in a fit of passion, struck him dead at his feet. According to Leland, “Inniscan longid to Tavestock, and there was a poor celle of monkes of Tavestock. Sum caulle this Trescau.”

There was a settlement of Benedictine monks here long before the Norman Conquest; their cell was dedicated to St. Nicholas. St. Nicholas, as well as St. Peter, is the patron saint of fishermen; the former also takes school-boys under his protection. Fragments of Tresco Abbey which was then founded still exist. It was independent until the reign of Edward I., when it was joined to Tavistock. The same monarch, Edward I., made Ranulph de White Monastery (supposed to be Ranulph de Blankminster, or Randolph de Blancheminster), according to an old archive, constable of these islands, with the castle of Ennor, in Old Town, on his “Paying yearly, at the feast of St. Michael the Archangel, 300 birds, called puffins, or 6s. 8d.” Traces of these monastic visitors are to be found in a pile of rocks at St. Mary’s, called Carn Friars (a farm near by bears the same name), and one of the most highly cultivated and sheltered spots, where a few trees grow, is known as Holy Vale. Whitfield places a nunnery there, and says Holy Vale takes its name from a miraculous rosebush that grew in it, and that “One of its flowers was deemed to have the power, if worn, to preserve its bearer from mortal sin,” but no other authority mentions it.

Giants, of course, frequently played a great part in the history of Scilly. Buzza’s Hill, just beyond Hugh Town (St. Mary’s), commemorates a giant of the name of Bosow, who made his home on its summit (now crowned by a Spanish windmill), and from whom the family of Bosow were descended. One of the finest promontories on the same island is Giant’s Castle—Troutbeck says, built by the Danes. Here, too, is Giant’s Chair, where the Arch Druid used in former days to sit and watch the sun rise. Druidical remains are scattered all over the different islands, and the many “barrows” are known as “giants’ graves.” “In the old abbey gardens at Tresco is a curious stone, about four feet long, two feet wide, and six inches in thickness, in an upright position. Near the top are two holes, one above the other (one being somewhat larger than the other), through which a man might pass his hand. It is supposed to be an old Druidical betrothal or wishing-stone, and used before the monks built the abbey at Tresco. Young people, engaged to be married, would pass their hands through the holes, and, joining them together, would so plight their troth. As a wishing-stone, or to break a spell, a ring would be passed through the holes with some incantations.”—J. C. Tonkin’s Guide to the Isles of Scilly.

The finest headland on St. Mary’s is Peninnis, and some of the sheltered nooks under its rocks have rather curious names. One of them is known as Sleep’s Abode (or Parlour), and close by is Pitt’s Parlour, which commands a lovely view; it is so called after a Mr. Pitt, who, when on a visit to Scilly, spent his summer evenings there with a chosen party of friends. An old lady, a native of Scilly, long since dead, told me that tradition said Mr. Pitt came to Scilly in consequence of a bet he made with a gentleman (I believe the then governor of the islands), who, when in London, spoke in the highest terms of the morality of its women, and offered to lay a heavy wager that not a single courtesan could be found there. Mr. Pitt took up the bet, travelled down to Scilly, and for a long time seemed likely to lose it; but at last, by a large bribe, he overcame the virtue of one very poor woman, and, in gratitude, allowed her a small pension until her death.

At the foot of Peninnis is Piper’s Hole (in which there is a pool of fresh water). This is said to be the entrance of a subterranean passage leading to the island of Tresco, where another Piper’s Hole is shown as the exit. Old people told marvellous tales of rash people venturing in so far that they never returned, but died in it overcome by fatigue—the passage being too narrow for them to turn. Also of dogs who disappeared in the hole at St. Mary’s, and after many days crept out from the one in Tresco, very emaciated, and almost hairless. The Rev. J. W. North, in his Week in the Isles of Scilly, has an interesting account of Piper’s Hole at Tresco.

Half-way down Giant’s Castle, the steep carn before mentioned on St. Mary’s, lies a very inaccessible cave known as Tom Butt’s Bed, from the fact that a boy of that name hid himself there in Queen Anne’s time three days and three nights out of sight of the press-gang.

The wreck of Sir Cloudesley Shovel in 1707, upon Gilston Rock, in Porth Hellick Bay, near Old Town, is of course a matter of history. Very many traditions have, however, gathered around this sad event, related by many authors. I must briefly retell them, as no book of this kind would be complete without them.

The admiral, accompanied by the whole of his fleet, was returning home from Toulon, after the capture of Gibraltar, in his ship the Association. When they were off Scilly, on October 22nd, 1707, the weather became thick and dirty, and orders were given “to lie-to.” This was in the afternoon. Later on, about six, Sir Cloudesley again made sail, but two hours after his ship showed signals of distress, which were answered from several of the others. In two minutes she struck on the Gilston Rock, sank immediately, and all on board perished. The Eagle and the Romney with their crews shared the same fate; the Firebrand also was lost, but her captain with most of her men were saved. “The other men-of-war with difficulty escaped by having timely notice.” In this storm between fifteen hundred and two thousand people were drowned in one night.