By John Lavington.
Special to "The Western Morning News and Mercury."
Among Cornish mining superstitions most prominent place must be given to the belief in the tribes of small people, usually known as "knockers," who are supposed to live and work in the mines. "Knockers" are akin to brownies and pixies, and are rumoured to be "little, withered, dried-up creatures," about the size of children a year old, having heads disproportionately big for their bodies, ungainly limbs, and small, squeaky voices.
In North Britain and Ireland they are supposed to be benevolent demons, too good for hell but not good enough for heaven. By some in the Western peninsula they are supposed to be the spirits of an ancient people who inhabited Cornwall. Formerly they were much larger, but since the time of Christ they have become smaller and feebler, and it is supposed that they will ultimately become extinct - which in one sense, no doubt, is true.
By others they are supposed to be the spirits of the Jews who crucified the Christ, and who were condemned to live and work in the deep levels of the mine. On certain festivals, such as Easter, All Saints' Day, the Jewish Sabbath, and Christmas Day, they were allowed to rest, but on Christmas Day they were compelled to sing carols. Stories are told of these who have heard the sweet, unearthly music of the knockers as they have sung their carols in the depths of the mine.
Generally the knockers were supposed to befriend the miners by assisting in their labours and signifying the presence of rich lodes - for the knockers were never heard except where there was an abundance of rich mineral - but if treated disrespectfully they could be very vindictive and cause great ill-luck. Consequently they were regarded with a certain amount of reverence by the miners, who sought to propitiate them by leaving a part of their dinner on the ground for their enjoyment. Similarly, fishermen left a fish upon the sands for the pixies, and harvesters scattered bread from their lunch and spilled a few drops of ale upon the ground for them.
Many old Cornish miners can tell of the prognostication of the knockers, whose noises came through the dark workings of the mine, sometimes like the beating of the borers or the roiling of barrows, and sometimes like the falling of rock, and even the dull metallic clink of ripe ore.
In connection with the Wheal Rodney Mine, near Marazion, an old miner recently told me the following story:--
"A miner named P-- and his son were at work in one of the levels which for some days had proved very unremunerative, but they continued to dig in the hope that they would again find the lode. They were busily working one day, when they heard someone throw down a 'bag of drills' in a working near by which had long been considered 'dead.' The old man expressed surprise that anyone should take the sett, and their curiosity was further aroused by the sound of vigorous working there.
"At last the old man's curiosity got the better of him, and he told his son to throw down his tool 'and we'll gone and see what to'ther fellow's about.' When they reached the old working they found neither miner nor signs of work, and the old sett appeared as for months past. 'Them must have bin the knockers,' said the old man. 'We'll knack ovver there and see if we can do better here.' After some ridicule the captain gave them permission to work the sett, when they quickly discovered that the 'knockers' had led them aright and an exceptionally rich lode was found."
Another story tells of a miner who was going to his work along one of the levels, when he was suddenly surprised by the sound as of someone "shooting ripe ore from a sack" just by his side. He looked about, but plainly no one could be near, as the level was narrow and straight and could be clearly scanned by the light of his lamp. As he turned to continue his journey he again heard the sound and noted its direction. It seemed to proceed from a large shaley piece of rock, which he pulled down with his fingers. Imagine his surprise when there "rolled at his feet a pile of ripe, red copper, like cinders."
An amazing story was published in "The Western Morning News" some years ago under the title of the "Wendron Treasure Hunt." An old lady living at Wendron was alledged to have been visited on several occasions by the "little people." When she eventually summoned courage enough to inquire why they troubled her, she was told to break down the plaster at one part of the house and a secret passage would be discovered, and if she dug deep enough much treasure would be found.
An attempt was made to recover the treasure, but while nothing was found that could possibly be described as treasure, the amazing thing is that at the place indicated by the little people a secret passage leading to the earth was actually found hidden by the lath and plaster. Several of the men who pursued the search are still living, and one of them from whom I recently had the story, still firmly believes that the treasure would have been found if only the landlord had granted the facilities required to prosecute the search!
The knockers are not confined to the Cornish mines, but are said to inhabit the coal mines of Wales. The coal mines of the north are said to be frequented by elves, - some of which are helpful tothe miners, but others are mischievous sprites.
The "duergars" of Scandinavia and the "kobolds" of the German mines are akin to the knockers, but unlike the knockers of the Cornish mines, which were usually friendly, the kobolds and duergars were frequently antagonistic to the miner, delighting to frustrate his work at every opportunity. In the mines in Africa and America, the earth is said to "talk," and there is probably some affinity between such "earth talks" and the "knockings" of the Cornish mines.
Ghosts were not unknown to haunt the mines, as is evidenced by the name of one mine - Wheel Sperris, the haunted mine - near St. Ives. Robert Hunt in his "Popular Romances of the West of England," published a story of a ghost which was supposed to frequent Polbrean Mine. A woman named Dorcas committed suicide by throwing herself down the mine, and for some time after her spirit haunted the place. She seems to have been of a malevolent turn of mind and delighted to torment the miners by calling their names and hindering them in their work. This occurred so frequently, that the miner who was unfortunate in his work was proverbially spoken of as "chasing Dorcas." On one occasion, however, Dorcas is said to have redeemed her character. Two miners were boring in an end, when the name of one of them was clearly heard between the blows. Hoever, when they listened, they could hear nothing. On resuming the boring the name was heard again, and when they took no notice it was again pronounced, but so vehemently that the man threw down his hammer and went to see who called him. Immediately he did so a huge granite boulder fell upon the spot where he had been standing, completely covering his companion, who, however, was taken out alive.
No doubt there are physical explanations for most of the basal causes of these superstitions. The miner laboured in an environment which lent itself to tales of the weird and uncanny, and in an atmosphere decidedly sepulchral and ghostly. If to-day we still feel unhappy at the sight of a single magpie or a broken mirror, and uncomfortable in the company of twelve other persons, let us be tolerant of those superstitions which enthralled the untutored minds of our fathers, and which here and there still exert their paralysing grip of fear upon the credulous and ignorant.
Western Morning News, 20th March 1922.
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