here made for the purpose of shaming the brutally ignorant, if it be possible, into humanity."* The remarks in Drew and Hitchin are as follows: "There is a tradition in Cornwall, which has been handed down from remote antiquity, that farmers may prevent any calamity by burning alive the finest calf they possess. This was so fully believed, that even as late as the year 1800, an ignorant old farmer, having met with some severe losses in his cattle, determined, on being advised by some neighbours not less barbarous than himself, to try this remedy. He accordingly, on an appointed day, called his friends together, lighted a large fire, brought forth his best calf, and without ceremony or remorse, pushed it into the flames." * Burning a Calf Alive.-Hone's "Every-Day Book," June 24, p. 431. [While correcting these sheets, I am informed of two recent instances of this superstition. One of them was the sacrifice of a calf by a farmer, near Portreath, for the purpose of removing a disease which had long followed his horses and his cows. The other was the burning of a living lamb, to save, as the farmer said, "his flock from spells which had been cast on 'em."] DEMONS AND SPECTRES. "A ghost, shrouded and folded up In its own formless horror." The Cenci-SHELLEY "I woke; it was the midnight hour, Christabel-COLERIDGE. ROMANCES OF DEMONS, SPECTRES, &c. THE HOOTING CAIRN. "On either hand, to left to right, Heath, pasture, stream, and lake, 'Dost fear, my love? The moon shines bright, And art thou of the dead afraid?' 'Oh! no; but name them not-the dead."" -BÜRGER'S Leonora, Herschel's Translation. AIRN Kenidzhek, pronounced Kenidjack, signify Hooting Cairn, is on the north road from St Just to Penzance, and is strikingly distinguished from other hills by its rugged character. Hoary stones, bleached by the sunshine of ages, are reared in fantastic confusion. The spirits of the Celts, possibly the spirits of a yet older people, dwell amidst those rocks. Within the shadow of this hill are mounds and barrows, and mystic circles, and holed stones, and rude altars, still telling of the past. The dead hold undisputed possession of all around; no ploughshare has dared to invade this sacred spot, and every effort made by modern man to mark his sway is indicated by its ruin. Nothing but what the Briton planted 1 ST SERIES. Q remains, and, if tales tell true, it is probable long years must pass before the Englishman can banish the Celtic powers who here hold sovereign sway. "A weird tract is that of Kenidzhek and the Gump, and of ill repute. The old, half-starved horses on the common, with their hides grown rusty brown, like dried and withered grass by exposure, are ridden by the archfiend at night. He is said to hunt lost souls over this heath; and an old stile hard by bears an evil name, for there the souls are sure to be caught, none being able to get over it. The people tell of midnight fights by demons, and of a shadowy form holding a lantern to the combatants."-Blight. One of the tales which I have heard may be given as a strange mixture of the Celtic and the monastic legend. Two miners who had been working in one of the now abandoned mines in Morvah, had, their labours being over, been, as was common, "half-pinting" in the public-house in Morvah Church-town. It was after dark, but not late; they were very quiet men, and not drunk. They had walked on, talking of the prospects of the mine, and speculating on the promise of certain "pitches," and were now on the Common, at the base of the Hooting Cairn. No miner ever passed within the shadow of Cairn Kenidzhek who dared to indulge in any frivolous talk: at least, thirty years since, the influence akin to fear was very potent upon all. Well, our two friends became silent, and trudged with a firm, a resolved, footstep onward. There was but little wind, yet a low moaning sound came from the cairn, which now and then arose into a hoot. The night was dark, yet a strange gleaming light rendered the rocks on the cairn visible, and both the miners fancied they saw gigantic forms passing in and about the intricate rocks. Presently they heard a horse galloping at no great distance behind them. They turned and saw, mounted on a horse which they knew very well, since the bony brute had often worked the "whim" on their mine, a dark man robed in a black gown, and a hood over his head, partly covering his face. "Hallo! hallo!" shouted they, fearing the rider would ride over them. "Hallo to you," answered a gruff voice. "Where be'st goen then?" asked the bravest of the miners. "Up to the cairn to see the wrastling," answered the rider; "come along! come along!" Horse and rider rushed by the two miners, and, they could never tell why, but they found themselves compelled to follow. They did not appear to exert themselves, but without much effort they kept up with the galloping horse. Now and then the dark rider motioned them onward with his hand, but he spoke not. At length the miners arrived at a mass of rocks near the base of the hill, which stopped their way, and, since it was dark, they knew not how to get past them. Presently they saw the rider ascending the hill, regardless of the masses of rock; passing unconcernedly over all, and, as it seemed to them, the man, the horse, and the rocks were engaged in a "three man's song," "the chorus to which was a piercing hoot. A great number of uncouth figures were gathering together, coming, as it seemed, out of the rocks themselves. They were men of great size and strength, with savage faces, rendered more terrible by the masses of uncombed hair which hung about them, and the colours with which they had painted their cheeks. The plain in front of "They have also Cornish three men's songs, cunningly contrived for the ditty, and pleasant for the note."-Carew, p. 72. |