The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1892-06-25
WAKEMAN'S WANDERINGS.
The Poet Traveller Continues His
Tramp Through Cornwall.
Some Cornish Hobgoblins and Buga-
boos = Grewsome Deserted Nine
stacks = Moving a s'Mine-Bob'' -
Growder and GrovTder sellers
Roadside Games and Strange Old
Customs.
special Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright, 1922
CRowAN, Cornwall, June 15, 1892.

special Correspondence OF the RECORD
UNION. Copyright, 1921
CRowAN, Cornwall, June 10, 1892.
Whatever Wesley and Whitfield, with
the railway, the newspaper and the tele-
graph, may have done in altering the ev-
eryday lives of the Cornish folk, no power
has yet been able to Danish the endeared
wraiths of the mysticisms and mysteries
of legendiarily heroic past To-day, as
firmly as five centuries since, the inner
heart of the Cornish man clings to his
''drolF' or tale of giant, hobgoblin and
fairy with the greatest tenacity, and a
few of these are interesting by way OF
illustration. Bellerian was formerly the
name Of Lands End, as also the name of
mighty giant who made it his home.
Conmoran built st. Michaels Mount, but
was slain by the redoabtable Jack the
Giant Killer. Holiburn of the Cairn de-
Tended ordinary mortals from other gil
ants than himself. The Giant Of Nan
cledry principally subsisted upon little
children. The Giant Trebiggan fright
ened bad children into virtuous lives, and
d1ned off the incorrigible ones, which he
usually fried upon a nat rock by his cave
door. The Giant Blunderbus, killed by
little Tom Hickathrift with cart-axle,
was the embodiment of surly laZiness and
cruel greed. The Giant Wrath, terror of
the coast, walked out to sea dozen miles
or so, and, fastening the fshermen's
boats TO his girdle, strolled leisurely back
to his cave TO serve his prisoners up for
food at will.
Gogmagog lost the kingdom of Corn
wall to Trojan giant, Corineus, in q
wrestling match. Thunderbone walked
the land everywhere inspiring terror by
his awful ugliness. While the mighty
Bolster, whom CruikShank endeavored
10 depict, was so huge that he could stride
from st. Agnes Beacon to the top of Cairn
Brae, distance of six miles. This was
the amorouS giant who, while nearly kill
ing his wife from overwork, was making
love to- ST. Agnes, who, to rid herself of
his opportunities, persuaded Bolster, as
test OF affection, to bleed himself to death
IN an attempt at Chapel Perth to fill
hole, which had a secret outlet to the sea,
with blood let from vein in his massive
arm.
To all Cornish folk these monsters still
hve1n ireside tales, and the numberless
monYments TO pagan past scattered
over the rocky tors and wild moors, such
as cromlechs, monoliths and other rude
stone monuments, are the household
goods and paStime implements OF this
vanished but not vanquished race.
Every hill or crag has its cairn or crom-
lech; every gorge or glen its ghost or COB
I'm. The knowledge of all this takes tirm
possession OF the wanderer through Corn
wall
If these were not snough to keep alive
all manner of weird superstitions, the
chlmneys of the deserted mines of Corn
wall alone would furnish sufficient grew
some influence to create and foster spooks
enough for an entire people. Any one
who has ever looked upon the dreary
round tower puzzles of Ireland, will re-
lIfNor Of Il, 80.
they always engender. But these lonely
landmarks of former activities seem to
possess more dire and fOrbidding aspect
Away back in the vicinity Of Liskeard
they began TO loom darkly upon the land
scape. From this place they are every
where seen, increasing in numbers as the
Redruth District is approached, and de-
creaslng in frequency toward st. Ives
and Penzance. From the top Of some
high Cornish hill what seems to be hun
dreds, can be seen; and on the road be-
tween Re6ruth and Camborn, a distance
forty 'knacked," or abandoned mine
stacks.
They usually comprise the tower-like
chimney, the old engine-room and the
lofty bob-shaft. Indescribable sterility
ana drearlness encompass them. Not
even furze will grow upon the poor dirt"
ana "churkS," or mine refuse around
them. DAVIS chatter in their tops. The
wind means through the rotting CHM
neys. Weird tales, superstitions and
whispers of tragedies are associated with
them. often turn aside to the dreariest
of these places. In one | found half
dead English tramp with his half-staryed
wife who had just given birth to child.
here was real tragedy for another Cor
nlsh bugaboo. l left them little mon
ey, sent a member of the mounted con-
stabuiary 10 them, and went on my wav;
but now l see CHASTITY faces through the
crumbling walls ofevery other knackedv
mine-stack that looms IN sight.
Moving mine-bob Is one of the Curl
Gus performances in the Cornish mining
districts l happened to witness. Turning
from hill lane into a wide highway |
saw great concourse Of people following
an enormous truck drawn by at least
twenty teams of shaggy Welsh horses.
Joining the crowd / found that Cornish
folk had come from miles around to see
the "mine-bob movin'." This "mine-
bob'' is the great beam, the hugest piece
IN all huge Cornish mining machinery.
which works, like steamer beam, the
man-englne and the man pumps. This
one weighed upward of lis towns. A
mine had been abandoned, new one was
being opened by the same company, and
from the great forge works at Hayle had
come this iron truck forty feet long, with
steel wheels ike engine drivers, on which
yeyed. The earnest interest of miners.
kepens" captains and engineers who
accompanied the ponderous beam, the
curious excitement of hundreds OF stray
glers drawn together by the event, and
the mlSchlevous prayers of Cornish bows
that something would scat or break. TO
increase the anxieties of the occasion.
here very great owing to the billy nature
OF Cornish roads, furnished a most inter-
eSung opportunity for character study
The greatest parsonage on all the road
that day was the teamster who drove
those forty Welsh horses Like the
boys, envied him, and marveled with
them at his handling of his whip. his
powerful lungs and his glib and urgent
tongue.
The marvellous whiteness of all Corn
lsh housewives floors, tables, chests and
chairs have been my constant admira-
ton. / learned the secret on a recent
FRIDAY, which day of every week is
growder day" in Cornwall. You will
See numberleSs donkey carts hurryino
up and down the billy highways or halt
ing before village doors. They are filled
with some light and pumice-like SUBJ
stance dug from near hillside pits, and
are In charge of women, or of bows al
ready full OF shrill whistling and the
quiet philosophy of older tradesmen.
stopped one of these boys with a
smile, siXpence and the question:
What have you in your cart, nv
lad2 ny
'Doan't knaaw, you? Load o. grow
der, my son."
''Growder? What is it for, my lad?n
'Scroobin' foars, my son.,
What do you get for it?''
Same OF drug-hap'ny tub.'' And
then, with an unearthly whistle and a