In Notes and Queries will be found some learned discussions on the question of the Jews working the Cornish tin mines, as though it were merely one of tradition. That the Jews farmed the tin mines of Cornwall and Devonshire is an historical fact, of which we have evidence in charters granted by several of our kings, especially by King John. Carew in his “Survey of Cornwall” gives some account of their mode of dealing with the tinners. Hence the terms “Jews’ houses,” given to old and rude smelting-works,—many of which I have seen,—and hence the name of “Jews’ tin,” given to the old blocks of tin, specimens of which may be seen in the Museum of Practical Geology, and in the museum of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, at Truro. “Atall Sarazin” is another term applied to some of the old waste-heaps of the ancient tin mines.
“The Jews,” says Whitaker, (“Origin of Arianism,” p. 334,) “denominated themselves, and were denominated by the Britons of Cornwall, Saracens, as the genuine progeny of Sarah.” Be this as it may, I have often heard in the mining villages—from twenty to thirty years since—a man coming from a distant parish, called “a foreigner;” a man from a distant country, termed “an outlandish man;” and any one not British born, designated as “a Saracen.”
But this has led me away from the knockers, who are in some districts called also “the buccas.” Many a time have I been seriously informed by the miners themselves that these sprites have been heard working away in the remote parts of a lode, repeating the blows of the miner’s pick or sledge with great precision. Generally speaking, the knockers work upon productive lodes only; and they have often kindly indicated to the trusting miner, where they might take good tribute pitches.
To Wesley, Cornwall owes a deep debt. He found the country steeped in the darkness of superstitious ignorance, and he opened a new light upon it. Associated with the spread of Wesleyan Methodism, has been the establishment of schools; and under the influence of religion and education, many of the superstitions have faded away. We rarely hear of the knockers now; but the following occurrence will shew that the knockers have not entirely left the land:—
One Saturday night I had retired to rest, having first seen that all the members of the household had gone to their bedrooms. These were my daughters, two female servants, and an old woman, named Mary, who was left, by the proprietor, in charge of the house which I occupied.
I had been some time in bed, when I distinctly heard a bedroom door open, and footsteps which, after moving about for some time in the passage or landing, from which the bedrooms opened, slowly and carefully descended the stairs. I heard a movement in the kitchen below, and the footsteps again ascended the stairs, and went into one of the bedrooms. This noise continued so long, and was so regularly repeated, that I began to fear lest one of the children were taken suddenly ill. Yet I felt assured, if it was so, one of the servants would call me. Therefore I lay still and listened until I fell asleep.
On the Sunday morning, when I descended to the breakfast-room, I asked the eldest of the two servants what had occasioned so much going up and down stairs in the night. She declared that no one had left their bedrooms after they had retired to them. I then inquired of the younger girl, and of each of my daughters as they made their appearance. No one had left their rooms—they had not heard any noises. My youngest daughter, who had been, after this inquiry of mine, for some minutes alone with the youngest servant, came laughing to me,—
“Papa, Nanny says the house is haunted, and that they have often heard strange noises in it.”
So I called Nancy; but all I could learn from her was that noises, like that of men going up and down stairs,—of threshing corn, and of “beating the borer,” (a mining operation,) were not uncommon.