Chapter XIV: Part 14

The captain gave the young men of Pengersec a cordial welcome, set before them the richest wines in his ship, and--smiling with satisfaction to see the brothers' attachment, and Marec's puzzled look--he related to him the history of his father's exploits, which had been told to Arluth, for the first time, only a few hours before.

Marec had been altogether ignorant of much that the old commander related of his father's youthful adventures; he rejoiced, however, to find a brother in Arluth, and to go with him, he cared not whither. Uter had such a strong regard for his master that he would gladly accompany him to the world's-end.

Arluth, having taken command of the captured pirate ship, with his brother for mate--Uter, and a few hands spared from the other vessel, as his crew--they at once made sail.

Whilst the two ships go sailing on, with clear skies and favouring gales, we will return, for a brief space, to Pengersec. About the time they got under way, the priest was told that the old lord had during the day been on board two eastern vessels; the good man, fearing this visit portended mischief, watched all night for Marec. When morning dawned, there being no appearance of the young men nor their boat--and the ships having left the bay--he sought Pengersec; found him and his wife, early as it was, in the hall. The priest and steward accused the lady of having conspired with her woman and others to destroy her step-son and husband. Venna, being summoned, turned against her mistress; the old lord, seeing how he had been fooled, ordered both women to be cast into the dungeon, mounted his horse and rode in all haste to Market-jew to see if any craft might be procured to sail after the departed ships and recover his son. Finding nothing there to the purpose, he returned at night-fall--distracted with remorse and rage--fully determined to hang his wife and her woman from the highest tower of his castle.

On nearing the thicket, from which the doe started on the preceding day, out sprang the white hare with flaming eyes, right in face of his horse; the terrified steed turned, galloped down to the shore, and, to escape the pursuing hare, took to sea. Neither the horse nor its rider were evermore seen.

The lady was released by her father's people; she became covered with scales, like a serpent--from the effects of the poison she had taken it was supposed--and she was shut up, as a loathsome object, in a dark room of Godolphin.

Venna escaped to her aunt the witch of Fraddam. The old lord having confessed, in his anguish, how he had disposed of his son and Uter, the people of Pengersec supposed they were taken to Barbary and sold as slaves; hoping, however, to discover them, the old servants took good care of everything, in order to save money and effect his ransom.

The two ships kept as near as might be on their voyage; and it was noticed that a beautiful white bird followed them from Mount's Bay; it often came within bow-shot but no one dared to aim a shaft at it, for the eastern mariners believed it to be the spirit of a departed friend who guarded them from harm.

Marec frequently passed to the old captain's vessel, when they were becalmed, for he liked much to hear him tell of eastern magicians and the wonderful things they did.

Having arrived at their destined port, they found their country in great disorder from the war waged by many pretenders to the throne, as before stated by the old commander. He had no sooner, however, presented to the people the young man, whom they had long known as his son, and related to them the history of his birth, and of the recovered magic sword, than they all flocked to Arluth's standard and proclaimed him their king.

Arluth but little valued his new dominions at first, and would have preferred the command of a good ship. Yet, to please his people, he consented to rule them, and soon became fully occupied with the cares of his government, which he regulated like the prudent captain of a well-ordered ship; he would have no idle hands nor waste of stores in his dominions.

King Arluth wished his brother to live with him as chief mate and adviser, and offered to dwell in any place he might choose, so it was near their principal port, that he might superintend the traffic.

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 shore, 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 passed 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 pass 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 passed 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 passed 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 assume 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 assisted 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 glass, 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 glass, 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 glass 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 passed them over his head. At this instant, however, the enchanter, happening to glance at his magic glass, 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 repetition 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 pass 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 quantity 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 hell-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 quantity 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.

NOTES, ILLUSTRATIVE 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 restitution) 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, entitled the "Cornish Drama," in the "Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall," an extract from a MS. volume, entitled, "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 document, spelt as the country folk still pronounce 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) entitled, '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 amusement. 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 assembly 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 pass 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 passages 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:--

"In 1428, a sum of four pounds was given to Jakke Trevaill and his companions, for making various plays and interludes before the king at Christmas."

Surely Jakke and his comrades went up from St. Just or Sancras, to show king Henry VI what a Cornish guise-dance was like.

The re-introduction of mediæval mysteries and other middle-age mummeries, as well as the federation of extreme religionists, is a curious and significant sign of these times, in which all unite to pleasantly "trickle the trout," or to extend the good work, as parties of different views may choose to regard this rare union of extreme links.

THE LEVELIS, OF TREWOOF.

Trewoof (or as it is now called Trove) was formerly the seat of a family of gentlemen bearing that name, who gave for their arms "Arg a chev, sa between 3 black birds (hoops) ppr."

This family flourished here from a very remote period, and we find that as early as 1292 (12 Edwd. I.) one Hawise Trewoof, the relict of William de Trewoof, intermarried with Henry de Boscawen, of Boscawen Rose (ancestor of the noble family of Boscawen Earls of Falmouth.) Trewoof and Boscawen Rose are both in the parish of St. Buryan, and less than two miles apart.

The estate continued in the possession of the Trewoofs until the reign of Henry VII, when Johanna, daughter and sole heiress of John Trewoof, "carried" it, together with herself, in marriage to Thomas Levelis, of Castle Horneck and Landewednack.

The Levelis family was of very old Norman descent, and had flourished in the district from the Conquest (1066) as appears from the monument of Arthur Levelis, Esquire, to be seen in Buryan Church.

The arms of this family are given as "Arg 3 calves' heads couped at the neck, gules." The crest given in the Visitation is "A garretted turrett, or, surmounted with 3 turretts or small towers." In Landewednack Church window, easternmost but one, says Dr. Borlase, "I find that Thomas Levelis, who glazed ye window, bore arg 3 calves' heads in pile gules. His wife's arms were arg a chev betwixt 3 hoops sable."

The learned doctor further adds, "I find also that Levelis arms, spelt there Levelys, are married to the arms of the Trewoofs and have no third bearing: whence it is to be conjectured that the Levelys of Landewidnock marryed Trewoof at the time when that window was glassed, that this Trewoof glassed it, that the Levelys passed from this parish of Landewidnock to Trewoof in Buryan on this marriage of the heiress, that Levelys married an heiress also from Landewidnock (viz., heiress of Archer,) for Arthur, buried in Buryan, quartered in the 3rd place sable a chevron engrailed betwixt 3 pheons arg, which same arms are still to be seen joyned to arg on a fess sable 3 buckles, or, in the same window of Landewidnock Church which has the Levelys and Trewoofs in it."

Thomas Levelis settled at Trewoof, and, by the said Jane or Johanna, daughter of John Trewoof, has issue a son and heir--John Levelys, whose posterity in the male line were settled at Trewoof until the death of Arthur Levelis (fifth in descent from the said Thomas Levelis,) which took place in 1671.

Arthur Levelis, like his wife's father, John Cooke, or Coke, of Tregessa, was a zealous Royalist; and an instance of his loyalty is recorded at page 134 of Mr. Blight's _Churches of West Cornwall_; he having concealed a band of Royalists in the fogue on the estate on their being closely pursued by Fairfax.

Mr. Levelis, through his mother--Ebit Coffin, daughter of Richard Coffin, of Portledge, Devon, Esquire (and wife of Hugh Levelis)--was enabled to deduce a descent from Edward I., King of England, through the noble families of De Bohun, Courtenay, Carey, and Coffin.

Of this descent his posterity were proud, and it has been urged as one reason for their devoted loyalty. Arthur Levelis had only one child--a daughter, the issue of his marriage with the daughter of John Coke of Tregessa; and this daughter became the sole heiress of the Levelis family and estates. She married Richard Vosper, gentleman, then residing in St. Buryan, who had accumulated a considerable fortune and was mortgagee of divers estates in the west of Cornwall.

There were issue of this marriage several children.

Mr. Vosper had formerly resided at Liskeard, where his family had been seated for very many years, and in which town they held a good position, as will be seen by a reference to the Borough muniments.

The Vospers claim to be of Jewish origin, and settled in Cornwall at an early date. For some time they were engaged in mining operations.

The meaning of the name "Vosper," or "Vespuer," is "pure," "immaculate." And in an old seal, in the possession of the family, there is a coat on which is a cross charged with the Virgin. But on the title deeds in possession of the family, to which Arthur Vosper (son and heir of the said Richard Vosper, of Trewoof, was a party,) there is a quarterly seal of the Vospers and Levelis as follows:--1 and 4 or, a cross moline sable, _Vosper_; 2 and 3, ar, 3 calves' heads, couped gules, Levelis. This coat, appertaining to the said Richard Vosper, his descendants still continue to bear, and the same now appertains to the Vospers, formerly of Launcells, Milton Abbott, and Lewannick.

Trewoof estate passed, unentailed, to Arthur Vosper, the eldest son and heir-at-law, who married Elisabeth Eyans, of Eyanstone, Oxon, and this gentleman having been unfortunately drowned in 1679 in the Isis, the property passed to his two daughters and co-heirs--Elisabeth and Prudence.

The former of these subsequently married Joseph Marke, of Woodhill, near Liskeard, gentleman, and jointly with her sister in 1699, disposed of the property, contrary to the wish of their cousin, Mr. Vosper, of Liskeard and Launcells.

Prudence was afterwards married to Mr. Dennis, of Liskeard.

The late John Vosper, of Milton Abbott and Callington, gentleman, who died in 1796, was one of the representatives of Mr. Vosper, of Liskeard and Launcells.

So also was the late Thomas Vosper, of Alternon.

Mr. Vosper, of Milton Abbott, had issue several sons; one of whom, Robert, was grandfather of the present Samuel Vosper-Thomas, of Wimborne.

Another Edward Vosper, of Stonehouse, Devon, gentleman, was grandfather of Thomas Phillips, of Plymouth, gentleman, the present magistrates' clerk for Plymouth.

DUFFY AND THE DEVIL. Page 3.

An old droll teller of Sancreed, called Billy Foss, used to relate a story very similar to that of the guise-dance; he made no mention, however, in his droll, of any family names, nor of any particular place in which the "Lord" dwelt, who married a poor girl; but her name was Duffy; and the demon who worked for her, and who was also fooled by a witch through strong drink, was called Tarraway. Billy used to say, "Some who know no better, call Duffy's devil Terrytop; but his ancient and proper name is Tarraway."

PENDRE AND BARANHUAL. Pages 63, 73, and 94.

This place gave name to the family of Pendrea, or Pender. Hals says, "John Pendrea, the last of his tribe, temps. Henry VI, having only two daughters, that became his heirs, who were married to Bonython, of Carclew, and Noy. To Noy's share fell this tenement of Pendrea, which was the dwelling of him and his posterity for several descents; and here was born, as I was informed, William Noy, the Attorney General to Charles I, who designed to have built a noteable house here, but was prevented by death, having before brought great quantities of materials to this place in order thereto. His grandson, William Noy, Esq., sold this place, and several others, to my very kind friend Christopher Davies, gent., now in possession thereof."

Baranhual, at one time the residence of the Penders, came from them to the Noyes, and was sold by the Noyes to the Davises. Here was to be seen, until recently, a small room encrusted with shells, which was said to be the work of some ladies of the Davies family. The design of the work was Charles II shown flying from his enemies, and one of them, in full pursuit, had the legend, "This is the heir, come let us kill him, that the inheritance may be our own," whilst an angel calls from a cloud, "Is it not written thou shalt do no murder?" The materials of this work are principally shells from Parcurnow. In 1750 Davies sold Baranhual, and some other farms, to Admiral Boscawen, in whose family it still remains.

Pendrea, and much other property in Buryan, belong to the Rev. John Tonkin, of Trevervyn.

THE DANES LANDING ON THE CORNISH COAST FOR
PLUNDER. Pages 127-141.

Then his cruisings o'er the seas,
Westward to the Hebrides,
And to Scilly's rocky shore;
And the hermit's cavern dismal,
Christ's great name and rites baptismal,
In the ocean's rush and roar.
LONGFELLOW.

We find an interesting notice of Danish marauding expeditions in Cornwall, and of King Olaf's conversion at Scilly, in Snorri Sturleson's "Heimskringla"--the "World's Circle"--which relates events from the early ages, when mythology and history were undistinguishably blended, down nearly to the period of Sturleson's birth in 1178.

The following is from Laing's translation of the "Saga," or story of King Olaf Tryggvesson, who reigned from about the year 995 to the year 1000.

"Thereafter Olaf Tryggvesson sailed to England, and ravaged wide around the land. He sailed all the way north to Northumberland, where he plundered; and thence to Scotland, where he marauded far and wide. Then he went to the Hebrides, where he fought some battles; and then southward to Man, where he also fought. He ravaged far around in Ireland, and thence steered to Bretland, which he laid waste with fire and sword, and also the district called Cumberland. He sailed westward from thence to Valland and marauded there. When he left the west, intending to sail to England, he came to the islands called the Scilly Isles, lying westward from England in the ocean. Thus tells Halfred Vandrædaskalt of these events:--

"The brave young king who ne'er retreats,
The Englishmen in England beats.
Death through Northumberland is spread
From battle-axe and broad spear-head.
Through Scotland with his spear he rides;
To Man his glancing ships he guides;
Feeding the wolves where'er he came,
The young king drove a bloody game.
The gallant bowman in the isles
Slew foemen, who lay heaped in piles.
The Irish fled at Olaf's name--
Fled from a young king seeking fame.
In Bretland, and in Kauraland,
People against him could not stand:
Thick on the field their corpses lay,
To ravens and howling wolves a prey."

Olaf Tryggvesson had been four years on this cruise, from the time he left Vendland till he came to the Scilly Isles.

While Olaf Tryggvesson lay in the Scilly Isles he heard of a seer, or fortune-teller, on the islands, who could tell beforehand things not yet done, and what he foretold many believed was really fulfilled. Olaf became curious to try this man's gift of prophecy. He therefore sent one of his men, who was the handsomest and the strongest, clothed him magnificently, and bade him say he was the king; for Olaf was known in all countries as handsomer, stronger, and braver than all others, although, after he had left Russia, he retained no more of his name than that he was called Olaf, and was Russian. Now when the messenger came to the fortune-teller, and gave himself out for the king, he got the answer. "Thou art not the king, but I advise thee to be faithful to thy king." And more he would not say to that man. The man returned, and told Olaf, and his desire to meet the fortune-teller was increased; and now he had no doubt of his being really a fortune-teller. Olaf repaired himself to him, and, entering into conversation, asked him if he could foresee how it would go with him with regard to his kingdom, or of any other fortune he was to have. The hermit replies in a holy spirit of prophecy, "Thou wilt become a renowned king, and do celebrated deeds. Many men wilt thou bring to faith and baptism, and both to thy own and others' good; and that thou mayest have no doubt of the truth of this answer listen to these tokens: When thou comest to thy ships many of thy people will conspire against thee, and then a battle will follow in which many of thy men will fall and thou wilt be wounded almost to death, and carried upon a shield to thy ship; yet, after seven days, thou shalt be well of thy wounds, and immediately thou shalt let thyself be baptised." Soon after Olaf went down to his ships, where he met some mutineers and people who would destroy him and his men. A fight took place, and the result was what the hermit had predicted, that Olaf was wounded, and carried upon a shield to his ship, and that his wound was healed in seven days. Then Olaf perceived the man had spoken truth,--that he was a true fortune-teller, and had the gift of prophecy. Olaf went once more to the hermit, and asked particularly how he came to have such wisdom in foreseeing things to be. The hermit replied that the Christian's God himself let him know all that he desired; and he brought before Olaf many great proofs of the power of the Almighty. In consequence of this encouragement Olaf agreed to let himself be baptised, and he and all his followers were baptised forthwith. He remained here a long time, took the true faith, and got with him priests and other learned men."

It is worthy of remark that various accounts in this work, of the marauding expeditions of northern vikings on the shores of Bretland and Kauraland (Wales and Cornwall) confirm many traditions still lingering in the West Country, about the Danes, (all Northmen were called Danes) landing on Gwenvor Sands, burning Escols, their defeat in a battle on Velan-druchar Moor, and how their ships remained in Whitsand Bay till "birds built in their rigging," &c.

Red-haired families are still often taunted with bearing on their heads a sign that some ancestress must have welcomed a northern pirate to Kauraland with more warmth than discretion.

The "seer," or "fortune-teller," on the islands, was probably one of a similar class to the Cornish "pellar," or "white-wizzard," of the present day.

King Olaf's priest, taken from Scilly, is one of the most remarkable characters of the wonderful book.

ST. LEVAN'S PATH. Page 146.

"Aux lieux où la charrette et le saint ont passés,
Le froment pousse encor plus vert et plus pressé."
BRIZEUX.

We find a similar belief to that connected with the path St. Levan trod, in the Breton legend of St. Cornély, from which the above lines are quoted. "La Charrette" was the cart--drawn by oxen--in which the saint rode when he and his people were pursued by an invading host of pagans. St. Cornély, being hard pressed, to prevent the Bretons being driven into the sea, turned about, cursed the pursuers, and changed them all--in rank and file as they stood--into the Menheers of Carnac.

The remarkable correspondence of beliefs, customs, names of places, &c., in the Armorican Cornouaile, with those of West Cornwall, would seem to show that the former was either colonised from hence or that many found an asylum there in some invasion of this district.

The story of Tom of Chyannor is well known there; a translation of the Armorican version was given in one of the early numbers of _Chambers's Journal_ as a Breton legend.

A GHOSTLY SHIP'S-BELL.

In the southern side of St. Levan Churchyard there is a low altar-tomb on the grave of Captain Wetherel, whose ship sprung a-leak and sunk, and who was drowned near the Rundle Stone many years ago. This grave is regarded with fear and wonder by many persons of that neighbourhood; for ever since the Captain was laid there, it has been believed that a ghostly bell strikes the hours, and half-hours, in his grave, the same as on board ship.

'Tis said this sound beneath the sod may be heard the clearest by persons passing the Churchyard at midnight. It was a few minutes before that hour, when the Captain, finding his vessel sinking, made his crew take to the boat; but he himself refused to quit his ship; and, as she went down, they heard him give eight loud and distinct strokes on the bell.

Many years since several young people were assembled in the Churchyard one Sunday forenoon, after service had commenced and the elders had gone into Church; time passed pleasantly with the young folks in chatting about such occurrences of the St. Levan world as interested them. In rambling among the graves, to look at the many garden flowers that bloomed on them, they approached Captain Wetherel's tomb, and a girl who stood by it reading the inscription, started back on hearing a hollow sound beneath her feet; she, and others near her, who saw her emotion, listened, and lo! a ringing came up as of a bell at sea; all rushed into Church in great fright. There was much talk of the strange occurrence for a few weeks, and less loitering of the youngsters to gossip in the Churchyard during service.

Shortly after a young sailor, belonging to St. Levan, who had been absent many years, came home for a few weeks; being in the "Elder Tree" public-house, one forenoon, with some of his former companions, their discourse led to the mention of the ship's-bell sounding in Captain Wetherel's grave. The young seaman said he believed the story was all nonsense, though as strange or stranger things sometimes happened in old vessels; but, as it was then near upon twelve o'clock, for curiosity sake, he went out and stood near the Captain's tomb; whilst his comrades remained by the Church porch, for a few minutes, watching the sun-dial. As it marked noon the sailor rushed back to his companions, and, looking as pale as a corpse, said, with bated breath, "True as I'm alive, I heard 'eight bells' struck in the grave, and wouldn't go near the spot again for the world."

The young seaman, on his next voyage, found his grave in the deep.

I never heard of any other person who went purposely to hear the Captain's bell, for it is a general belief here that bad luck is sure to overtake those who endeavour to pry into ghostly doings that don't concern them. Although the belief still holds, yet most West Country folks are become shy of mentioning Captain Wetherel's bell, or of talking on kindred subjects, except amongst ourselves, from the ridicule with which it is now fashionable to treat such matters, even in St. Levan.

BREA AND PENDEEN, IN ST. JUST. Pages 42, 166, and 200.

"Brea, at present, retains no traces of its former consequence, which may be assumed from its chapel, noticed in a former page.

The family of Bray, or Brea, came with the Conqueror. In the 3rd Henry IV., A.D. 1402, Michael de Bray held two parts of one Knight's fee, in Bray, in Penwith, and in the 12th Edw. I., Brea, or Bray, is charged by the Justices' Itinerant for eight acres. Edward Bray was summoned to Parliament, 3rd November, 1529, by the style and title of Baron Bray, which honour expired on the death of John, the second Lord, 18th November, 1557. This property now belongs to the Ellis family. It appears from an inscribed stone, over one of the chimneys, that the present house was built by Charles Ellis, 1634. A former member of that family, who lived there, was a Quaker, and is said to have been an eccentric character. He enclosed a burying ground not far from his house, and was there interred, and has a granite tomb erected over his remains.

Pendeen is the house of most importance in this parish, it has long been the property, and sometimes the residence, of different branches of the old and highly respectable family of Borlase. The Rev. Dr. William Borlase, the celebrated antiquary and historian of his own county, who, by his elaborate work, has raised to his own memory an enduring monument, was born here.

* * * * *

The mansion itself, though now only used as a farm house, and occupied by labourers, retains much of its ancient respectability of appearance. The masonry is of good wrought granite, and the chimneys are tastefully built; it bears the date of 1670, and is a structure superior to the other houses of the same age in the neighbourhood." REV. JOHN BULLER, L.L.B.

The learned antiquary, who was born and who resided at Pendeen for a considerable time, is well represented by William Copeland Borlase, Esq., the author of "Nænia Cornubiæ," recently published.

THE BURNING OF VELLAN-DREATH. Page 215.

It is said that in Queen Elizabeth's reign the Spaniards did much mischief by pillaging defenceless places on the western shores. About the time they burnt Moushal, an old miller and his son, a stout man, were the only dwellers in Vellan-Dreath. Early one morning, the miller, on returning from the mill-pool, which was far up on the hill, whither he had been to lift the flushet, noticed a boat with several men put off from a ship, and he watched them till they landed just beneath his mill. Suspecting they were bent on mischief he went in and barricaded his door; unfortunately the miller had no lead, but he put the muzzle of his musket through the latch-hole, which was probably larger than required to admit a finger to lift the latch. Meanwhile his son watched the invaders approach from a gable-end loop-hole which served as a window to the mill-bed.

The water had not yet been turned on to the wheel; some of the "Spaniars," on coming round near the door, seeing the miller's gun pointed at them as they came within range, turned, tried to climb the mill-wheel and effect an entrance through the low thatched roof. The old miller, who spied them through crevices between the board of his door, guessing their intentions, called to his son to turn the water on; the launder flushet was raised in an instant, and the wheel revolved; one Spaniard was drowned in the pul-rose (wheel-pit) and another killed in the opening where the axle-tree worked.

The millers, seeing more invaders coming up the cliff, set fire to a furse-rick near their door, and, each one taking on his back a sack of flour, made good their retreat through the smoke, without being perceived by the Spaniards till they were far up the hill. The sacks of flour protected them pretty well from stray shots, but the old miller, being hit in his knee with a bullet had to drop his sack. They reached Escolls, however, without farther harm, and the young man, on throwing down his sack of flour, declared that it was pounds heavier, from the lead lodged in it, than when he took it up. The Spaniards found little in the mill of any value to them; but they set fire to it, and it was never rebuilt.

The site of Vellan-Dreath can scarcely be traced on account of the blown sand having covered it over, and filled in the hollow in the cliff where it stood. Many years ago one of the mill-stones was found and taken to a smith's shop, in Mayon, or Treeve, where it served to bind cart wheels on; it remained near the smithy door but a few years since, and it may be there still, or not far from the spot. It is worth preserving, many would come from far to see a mill-stone of Queen Elizabeth's time.

THE MEN-AN-TOL, CONSTANTINE TOLMEN, &c. Page 242.

"D'un passé sans mémoire incertaines reliques,
Mystères d'un vieux monde en mystères écrits."
LAMARTINE.

Mr. J. T. Blight, F.S.A., gives the following graphic description of various perforated stones in Cornwall, and elsewhere.

"In the western part of Cornwall there are several ancient monuments known by the name of 'Holed Stones.' They consist of thin slabs of Granite, each being pierced by a round hole, generally near its centre. They vary in size and in form. That near the Men-Scryfa in Madron, better known than others, is placed between, or rather arranged triangularly with, two other upright stones. Other holed stones which have hitherto been noticed are not so accompanied. The late Mr. Buller, in his 'Account of the Parish of St. Just,' describes some such stones which he found near Carn Kenidjac. One may still be seen in the Vicarage grounds of St. Just; and two others near Bolleit, in St. Buryan.