A similar story is told in Cornwall.
An old lady had been to the church in the sands of Perranzabuloe. She found, amidst the numerous remains of mortality, some very good teeth. She pocketed these, and at night placed them on her dressing-table before getting into bed. She slept, but was at length disturbed by some one calling out, “Give me my teeth—give me my teeth.” At first the lady took no notice of this, but the cry, “Give me my teeth,” was so constantly repeated, that she at last, in terror, jumped out of bed, took the teeth from the dressing-table, and, opening the window, flung them out, exclaiming, “Drat the teeth, take ’em.” They no sooner fell into the darkness on the road, than hasty retreating footsteps were heard, and there were no more demands for the teeth.
THE SPANIARD AT PENRYN.
In the reign of James I. there happened to be upon our coast a Spanish vessel of war. Favoured by the mists of evening and the growing darkness, the ship entered Falmouth harbour unseen. The crew armed themselves, and taking to their boats, proceeded with great caution to the town of Penryn, situated at the head of the harbour. There they landed, formed themselves into proper order, and marched into the town, purposing to plunder the inhabitants and burn the town. With steady tramp they cautiously proceeded up the dark main street, resolving to attack the principal dwellings first. Suddenly a great shout was heard, drums and trumpets sounded, the noise of many feet rushing to and fro fell on the ears of the Spaniards. Believing that they were discovered, and that preparations had been made for their reception, fear seized them, and they fled precipitately to their boats and left the town. The martial music proceeded, however, from a temporary theatre, in which a troop of strolling players were entertaining the people.
BOYER, MAYOR OF BODMIN.
In the reign of Edward VI., Boyer was the mayor of Bodmin, and he appears to have been suspected of aiding in an insurrection of the men of Devonshire and Cornwall. However this may be, Sir Anthony Kingston, provost-marshal of the king’s army, sent orders to Boyer to have a gibbet erected in the street opposite his own house by the next day at noon. He, at the same time, sent his compliments to the mayor, telling him that he should dine with him, in order to be present at the execution of some rebels.
The unsuspecting mayor obeyed the command, and at the time appointed provided an entertainment for his guest. Kingston put about the wine, and when he observed the mayor’s spirits were exhilarated, asked him if the gibbet was ready. Being told that it was, with a wanton and diabolical sneer he ordered the mayor to be hanged upon it.
At the same time a miller was ordered to be hanged; his servant was so deeply attached to him, that he went to Kingston and begged him to spare his master’s life, even if he hung him in his place. “If you are so fond of hanging,” said Kingston, “you shall not be disappointed,” and he hanged the miller and his servant together.
A similar story is told of a mayor of St Ives.