Redmoor Mine, Callington, Cornwall ((1937)

 Eerie Noises at Night.

Mine's Ghostly Will-O'-The-Wisp. Strange experience at Callington.

A strange experience which befell three miners working at Redmoor Mine, near Callington, was related to "The Western Morning News" representative yesterday by the men.

The old mine has recently been re-opened, and it is stated that queer noises for which no accountable reason can be given have been heard at the mine at night. The men, Messrs. Roscoe Smith, Lionel Smith, and Fred Scould, of Wadebridge, were on night shift, and were the only miners in the mine at the time.

"I left the levels at 2.30 a.m.," said Mr. Roscoe Smith, "and I made my way to the drying-house. It was a dark night, with no moon or stars, not a breath of wind, even. Just as I reached the drying-house something, I cannot ell what it was or what it looked like, suddenly came out of the drying-house and swished past me. Then I heard a sound, but saw nothing. The thing, whatever it was, made my lamp go out. Presently I lit my lamp again and entered the drying-house, but saw nothing to indicate what it was that had frightened me. Then I heard a loud noise, like stones falling on a galvanized roof. It came from the direction of the mine-sheds. I went towards the place, but the sound shifted and I heard it coming as if from the stamps up above me. My mates came out from the levels just then, and we went to investigate.

"We heard a mysterious thumping and rattling, coming from the old mine-burrows and stack, then from the sheds and blacksmith's shop. Wherever we went in an attempt to locate the cause of the noise it shifted to another region. Once we heard it coming from the direction of some farm buildings about 200 yards away. As a matter of fact, the weird noise came from many angles, at almost regular intervals, but always on the mine or the immediate vicinity. It began at 2.30, and not until daylight, about six o'clock, did it cease."

The other two miners admitted feeling scared at the time. "It's past explaining," Mr Lionel Smith remarked. "I've never heard anything like it. It was really uncanny. I'm not nervous, but I shall never forget my experience. Sometimes I thought it sounded like something scrambling away and making a big noise about it."

Other miners spoke of curious tapping sounds being heard in the levels, reviving the theory, popular in Cornwall, that the spirits of departed miners, known as "knockers," haunt old workings.

Western Morning News, 23rd September 1937.

Redruth and Camborne, Cornwall (1912)

 A Cornish Spook!

Miners' Story of a Strange Apparition.

During recent weeks there has been in circulation in the Redruth and Camborne district a story of a ghost having been seen on East Pool and Agar Mine. By most people it has been regarded as a hoax, but that does not alter the fact that several men are convinced they have actually beheld an apparition from the other world. Nobody can persuade these miners - about half a dozen - that they have not seen, while working in the neighbourhood of East Pool shaft, the shadowy semblance of a man, dressed in a long, caped coat of dark material. The "ghost" vanishes when it is approached.

The curious fact is (according to the "Western Daily Mercury") that the men who are certain that they have had the ghostly experience are only a fourth of the number of those who during the week are engaged at night on the spot. The others are inclined to treat their comrades supposed credulity with much levity. Nevertheless, the half-a-dozen tell circumstantial tales, and are certainly to be given credit for their honest belief.

Persons who have gone to the place on several occasions lately have not succeeded in discovering anything, during their ghost-hunting experiments. By some the "ghost" is believed to have been created by the peculiar lighting effects of the place. It is not uncommon for the men to see undesirables of the tramp class searching for a warm corner to rest or sleep in.

Portsmouth Evening News, 23rd February 1912.

A Ghost Story from a Cornish Coal Pit.

Man in a Long Coat.

[...] The "Morning Leader" representative at Redruth, led by persistent rumours, paid a visit to the East Pool and Wheal Agar United Mines, in Illogan parish, where, he says, he gathered some remarkable and well-authenticated facts. 

At least a dozen men, unimaginative Cornish miners, told him that they had seen the ghost in the pit. One of these declared that he could hardly believe the evidence of his own senses, and did not know what to make of his experience. He is as certain as he can be, however, that while working at night in the immediate vicinity of the shaft he beheld the shadowy semblance of a man wearing a long, black, caped coat.

This miner is obviously not at all of an excitable temperament, and not inclined to joke about the matter. The "ghost" is said to vanish on being approached. Another story is that the spectre on one occasion visited the engine-room, and sat down there. About one-quarter of the men who are engaged on night duty near the shaft in the course of the week are ready to swear they have seen the phantom, but the remainder have observed nothing out of the common, and are rather inclined to laugh at the expense of the others. 

An unfortunate pitman was drowned in this part of the mine about eight months ago, and the body was never recovered. Many of the miners who have seen the ghost are inclined to associate the spectre with this man's death.

Sheffield Evening Telegraph, 23rd February 1912.

 

East Pool Miner's Terrible Death.

A verdict of accidental death was returned on Thursday at an inquiry at Pool Institute [...] into the death of James Curnow (21), who was killed by falling 48 fathoms (288 feet) at East Pool Mine the previous day [..]

West Briton and Cornwall Advertiser, 22nd February 1912.

 

East Pool Horror. Three Miners Instantly Killed.

A terrible accident, involving the instantaneous death of three young miners, occurred at East Pool Mine about 11a.m. on Friday. [...] 

West Briton and Cornwall Advertiser, 7th March 1912.

 

 

Cornish miners - Cornubian and Redruth Times October 1906

 Miners' Superstitions.

Miners say that they often see little imps or demons underground. Their presence is considered favourable; they indicate the presence of lodes about which they work during the absence of the miners.

Miners do not like the form of the cross being made underground. A man going through some "levels" or "adits," made a cross by the side of one, to know his way back, as he would have to return by himself. He was compelled to alter it into another form.

If miners saw a sail when going to "bal" in the morning, they used always to drop a piece of tallow from their candles.

Christmas Eve in the Mines.

On Christmas Eve, in former days, the small people, or spriggans, would meet at the bottom of the deepest mines, and have a midnight mass. Then those who were in the mind would hear voices singing, "Now well; now well;" and the strains of some deep-toned organ would shake the rocks. Of the grandeur of those meetings, old stories could not find words sufficiently sonorous to speak; it was therefore left to the imagination, but this was certain, the temple formed by the fairy bands in which to celebrate the eve of the birth of a Saviour, in whose mercy they all had hope, was of the most magnificent description. Midsummer-eve and new-year's day and eve are holidays with the miners. It has been said they refuse to work on those days from superstitious reasons. I never heard of any.

Warnings and "Tokens."

Amongst the mining population there is a deeply-rooted belief in warnings. The following related by a very respectable man, formerly a miner, well illustrates this:-

My father, when a lad, worked with a companion (James or 'Jim', as he was called) in Germow. They lived close by Old Wheal Grey in Breage. One evening, the daughter of the person with whom they lodged came in to her mother, crying, "Billy and Jim ben out theer for more than a hour, and I ben chasin them among the Kilur banks, and they wasn't lev me catch them. As fast as I do go to one, they do go to another." "Hould your tongue, child," said the mother; "'twas their forenoon core, and they both ben up in bed this houre."

"I'm sure I ben chasin them," said the girl. The mother then went upstairs and awoke the lads, telling them the story. One of them said "Tis a warning; something will happen in an old end, and I shan't go to mine this core." "Nonsense," said the other; "don't let us be so foolish; the child has been playing with some strangers, and it isn't worth while to be spaled for any such foolishness." "I tell you," replied the other, "I won'[t go." As it was useless for one man to go alone, both remained away. In the course of the night, however, a run took place in the end they were working in, and tens of thousands of tons of kibblefuls came away. Had they been at work, it was scarcely possible for them to have escaped."

At Wheal Vor it has always been and is now believed that a fatal accident in the mine is presaged by the appearance of a hare or white rabbit in one of the engine-houses. The men solemnly declare that they have chansed these appearances till they were hammed in apparently, without being able to catch them. The white rabbit on one occasion being run into a "windbore" lying on the ground,  and, though stopped in, escaped. In this mine there appears to be a general belief among the men in "tokens" and supernatural appearances. A few months ago, a fine old man reported, on being relieved from his turn as watcher, that during the night he heard a loud sound like the emptying of a cartload of rubbish in front of the account-house, where he was staying. On going out, nothing was to be seen. The poor fellow, considering the strange sound as a "warning," pined away and died within a few weeks.

The Ghost on Horseback.

Billy and John, working at Wheal Vor, were in the habit, early in the morning, of calling out a dog or two, kept by the occupier of an adjoining farm, and with them hunt over the Godolphin warren adjoining. One morning, while thus engaged, one of them gave the alarm that a man on horseback was coming down the road. "Tisn't possible," said the other; "no horse can ever come over that road." "There is a horse, and old Cap'n T. is upon it," replied the first. "Hold thy tongue," rejoined his comrade; "he's dead months ago." "I know that; but 'tis he, sure enough." Both crouched down behind a bush; and my informant, whose father was one of the parties, declared that the appearance of Capt. T., on a black horse, passed noiselessly down the road immediately before them, but without noticing their appearance.

The Black Dogs.

About seventy years since, a man and a lad were engaged in sinking a shaft at Wheal Vor mine, when the lad through carelessness or accident, missed in charging a hole, so that a necessity arose for the dangerous operation of picking out the chartge. This they proceeded to do, the man severely reprimanding the carelessness of his assistant. Several other miners at the time about being to change their core, were on the plat above, calling down and conversing occasionally with man and boy. Suddenly the charge exploded, and the latter were seen to be thrown up in the midst of a volume of flame. As soon as help could be procured, a party descended, when the remains fo the poor fellows were found to be shattered and scorched beyond recognition. When these were brought to the surface, the clothes and a mass of mangled flesh dropped from the bodies. A bystander, to spare the feelings of the relatives, hastily caught the revolting mass in a shovel, adn threw the whole into the blazing furnace Woolf's engine, close at hand. From that time the engineman declared that troops of little black dogs continually haunted the place, even when the doors were shut. Few of them like to talk about it; but it was difficult to obtain the necessary attendance to work the machine.

Cornish miners in South Africa, 1911

The Cornish Telegraph, Thursday 20th July 1911.
Cornish miners and superstition.

There is something about mines that appeals to the superstitious of mankind; especially is this so on the Rand, where one finds miners drawn from all parts of the world. One of the most marked effects noticed in men who have spent most of their life in mining is a sense of danger that suddenly comes over them. "Some would call this faculty the sixth sense," writes a prominent mining expert at Cape Town. "If you asked a miner how he knows there is something wrong he will reply that he feels it. I had a remarkable illustration of this a few years ago. I was walking along a main drift with a mine captain, a man who had been working in mines for over 40 years, having started as a lad in the mines of Cornwall. Suddenly he stopped and exclaimed that something was wrong.

"For the life of me I could not see a thing amiss. The timbers seemed solid and the drive pillars looked secure. But the captain was not satisfied, and insisted on climbing into the stope to investigate. There he found a large crack, running for hundreds of feet, indicating a movement of the strata of serious proportions. Had this discovery not been made in time there would have been a serious accident in the mine, with a probable loss of life. I dare say the years of experience in the mine had developed a power in him which the men called 'superstition,' but which was really the faculty of accurate observation, which to him seemed unconscious."

Whistling

Chelmsford Chronicle, Friday 31st December 1852
Cornish Miners' Superstition.
Amongst the miners in Cornwall a superstition greatly prevails, namely that whistling below ground brings "evil spirits" among them, and for that reason you never hear a miner whistling under ground - Notes and Queries.

Cornish miners

The festivals still celebrated by the Cornish miners are probably Christmas survivals of the Pagan customs of doing honour to the gods for the enrichment of the earth. On the second Thursday before Christmas - Picrons-day - some Cornish miners feast in honour of St. Piran or St. Kinan, the supposed discoverer of tin, while others on the Thursday before Christmas observe the feast of Chewidden, in commemoration of the first manufacture of white or smelted tin.
Taunton Courier, and Western Advertiser. 12th December 1906.

"Brownies" and "Knockers"

"Brownies" are by no means unknown in West Cornwall. Some few years ago a brownie was said to occasionally appear in a certain house in Chapel-street, Penzance. He was perfectly harmless, apparently portended nothing and when he came seated himself comfortably in a chair by the fireside. A prominent Penzance man once assured me he had seen him.

The existence of "knockers" will not be called in question by any true westcountryman. These are the "Old Men" working away underground at their old "Pitches" (i.e., workings). Unfortunately for the romance of the thing, they are generally heard in miners' cottages in remote country districts; but there have undoubtedly been cases in which the inhabitants of houses built over filled and forgotten mine shafts have heard some very queer noises, connected in all probability with blasts of gunpowder in the mine beneath them.
LINDUM.
(Reply to Query 883).

In 'The Cornish Telegraph' for 22nd October 1908. What does he mean, in the cottages? This makes it sound like more of a poltergeist and less connected to the knockers of the mines. I don't know. Brownies are usually found around the house.

Superstitions of the Miner: Cornwall

By T.H. Rogers.

In addition to the general superstitions of Celtic Cornwall, there are, or were, several others held by the miners specially connected with their occupation, and as dangers usually increase strange beliefs there is little wonder that we find remarkable superstitions extant in mining circles.

Superstitions connected with the "Knockers," who were believed to have lived and worked in the mines, hold premier place in the Duchy. They are spoken of as the spirits of persons who inhabited Cornwall many thousands of years ago, and who, "though too good to be condemned to hell, were not good enough for the joys of heaven." Old miners state that in bygone days the noises "Knockers" made came through the blackness of the levels, and there were occasions when the beating of the borers, the falling of rock, and the rolling of barrows by the little people were mingled with their sharp cries.

The "Knockers" were eceedingly playful amongst themselves, but a demureness came over them when they knew they were being watched. Miners considered them friendly, and that they rendered meritorious service by leading them to valuable mineral deposits and lodes, as these little people were never heard working on other than rich ground. They could, however, be vindictive, and this the miner found to his dismay if he spoke of them in disrespectful language or neglected to follow the custom of leaving a part of his dinner in the level of the mine for their enjoyment.

Time was also when Bucca, the "Storm God," was a spirit Cornish fishermen thought necessary to propitiate. They left a fish on the sands for him, and in the harvest field at lunch-time a piece of bread was thrown over the shoulder and a few drops of beer spilled on the ground for him to insure good luck.

Lewis Morris, writing in 1754, illustrates the quaint earnestness with which miners of that time spoke of the "Knockers." He states: "They are a kind of good-natured, impalpable people, but to be seen and heard, and who seem to us to work in the mines; that is to say, they are types or forerunners of workers in the mines, as dreams are of some accidents which happen to us. I must speak well of these 'Knockers' for they have actually stood my very good friends, whether they are aerial beings called spirits or whether they are people made of matter not to be felt by our gross bodies. Our old miners are no more concerned at hearing them blasting, boring holes, landing deads, &c., than if they were some of their own people; and a single miner will stay in the work in the dead of night without any man near him and never think of any fear or harm that they will do him; for they have a notion that the 'Knockers' are of their own tribe and profession and are a harmless people who mean well.

"Let who will laugh, we have the greatest reason to rejoice and to thank the 'Knockers,' or rather God, Who sends us these notices. The word 'supernatural ' used among us is nonsense; there is nothing supernatural, for the degrees of all beings, from the vegetable life to the archangel, are natural, real, absolute creatures, made by God's own hand; and all their actions, motions, and qualities are natural."

The "spectral hand" was another superstition of great importance. It was known in several mines as well as in the slate quarries of Delabole. A light was said to ascend and descend near the  ladders just ast the light of a miner's candle did when a man was going to or coming from his work, and when the credulous watched the strange light they saw a spectral hand near by. Unhappy was the man who caught sight of this, for he read in it the coming of death or great misfortune.

St. Agnes miners believed in the strange story of a woman named Dorcas, who committed suicide by throwing herself down one of the shafts of Polbreen Mine, and the apparition of her haunted the place long after. She took special delight in tormenting the miners when they were at work by calling their names and in other ways enticing them to leave their occupations. This prevailed, it is said, to such an extent that when a tributer had not done well during the month he was jeeringly asked whether he had been chasing Dorcas. When a fall of ground was about to occur it is said that she more than once warned the miners, and not a few lives were saved in consequence.

It is related that a miner named Lean was saved from sudden death in Wheal Jewel Mine in the parish of Gwennap by a "spectral" voice. He was hundreds of fathoms distant from any other person, and as he walked slowly through the levels, absorbed in examining a rich course of copper ore in the roof, he was startled by the words, "You are in the winze." He at once threw himself flat on his back at the bottom of the level, and, on sitting up, discovered that his heels were on the verge of the end of the winze, left exposed and open, embracing the width of the "gunnis" communicating with the next level, ten fathoms below. When warned he was about to take a step that would have resulted in death.

A miner considered it extremely unlucky to see a hare cross his path; it was believed that the spell could be avoided by going home and recommencing his journey, and people are known to have walked several miles to rid themselves of the bane that was upon them. It is recorded that a fatal accident was once foreshadowed at the famous Wheal Vor Mine, in the parish of Breage, by the appearance of a "spectral" hare, or white rabbit, in one of the engine houses. Men tried hard to catch the animal without success, and once when shut in a wind bore in which it had run it is said to have disappeared altogether.

It was a belief long held in Cornwall that when a woman died broken-hearted she came back to haunt the originator of her death in the shape of a white hare, and this phantom accompanied him everywhere and ultimately caused his death. People of the parish of Gulval relate a story concerning the victim of a white hare. It is said that a man of Kenegie was killed when hunting through falling from his horse, frightened by the spirit of a maiden, and was often seen riding and walking about in his hunting clothes.

In the days when witches and witchcraft held sway it was believed that witches took the form of a hare, and that they uttered some queer incantations when they changed from one shape to another, and it is interesting to note that colliers of the North of England and the miners of France held similar superstitions in connection with the hare.

It has been claimed that the courses of rich lodes have been indicated by small dancing lights, known in Cornwall as "Jack o' Lanterns," and not a few miners to-day hold the belief that where these are observed there are rich mineral deposits underground. It is said that the fortunes of North Basset Mine, near Carn Brea, were entirely changed by means of these strange lights.

About 70 years ago the miners could not discover sufficient mineral to meet the cost, and it was decided that if matters did not improve the mine would have to be closed. Grace Mill, an elderly woman, who lived near the mine, implored the miners - without success at first - to sink a shaft where she had seen the "Jack o' Lanterns," and when everything else had failed they set to work in the place recommended by Grace. Here was found what has been described as one of the richest deposits of malachite, red oxide, and black and grey copper ore ever found in the county, and profits of over £90,000 were made. "Grace's" shaft is still pointed out, and the old woman for the remainder of her days received a weekly sum of money from the directors in recognition of her services and advice.

Black cats are said to bring luck, but for some reason not easily accounted for miners considered themselves warned off a level if they met a black cat in it, and would not go there until the animal had been driven out. Old miners dropped tallow from their candles or a piece of their dinner by the side of snails to ensure good luck. In early times, however, snails were regarded as mysterious creatures, and Herodotus wrote that they were hermaphrodites, and therefore capable of determining events. Throughout the ages they were used in various forms of divination, and this probably accounts for the respect shown them by the old tinners of Cornwall.

There were many other superstitions that entered into the lives of the miners, and some of them come to us as meaningless; but that may be because the fragment bears no likeness to the cermony or belief to which it belonged in far-off days. Careful study will reveal the fact that the superstitions of numerous districts are strikingly similar, and things identical are widely diffused, which causes students of folk-lore to speak of the legends and traditions of different countries as parts of a creed once common to almost the whole world.

Western Morning News, 24th February 1926.

Knockers and other Little People: Cornish Miners' Superstitions

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.

Tinners' Omens

A Cornishman who works in his native tin or copper mines must never be addressed as a miner, or trouble will promptly ensure. This is because such a designation might cause him to be confounded with other underground workers, colliers in particular, and the clannish Cornishman esteems himself, with or without reason, to be of an altogether higher social standing than "darty coalers". But then the true-bred man from west of the Tamar has no doubt that his race is vastly superior to any outlandish foreigners from up the country, no matter what their rank or dignity may be.

Although the tinner has not the explosive firedamp to dread, yet the deep Cornish mines have their own dangers, no less swift and sudden. Many run out far under the sea, so that the crash of breaking waves thunders incessantly overhead. In very ancient times, the Phoenicians and they that dwelt in Tyre traded with the Celtic folk of Cornwall for tin and copper, then lying near the surface; there were shipping-places on islands round the coast where the metal was brought by the country folk, who jealously guarded the sources of their wealth. St Michael's Mount, the Island of St. Ives, the Chapel Rock at Perranporth, and even lordly Tintagel itself, were among the most notable of these stations.

Marazion, or Market Jew, was so called by the Jewish slaves, who were sent by the Carthaginians and Romans to work in the mines, the former name signifying "the bitterness of Zion." Tradition tells that the souls of these unlucky ones, because of their unbelief and also of their nefarious practices as tinners, are still condemned to toil underground, as they did in life, until the end of all things. They are known as the Knockers, or Buccas, and the belated or solitary tinner often hears the tap of their ghostly pickaxes; but this is not altogether an alarming sound, for wherever the Knockers work, the ore is certain to be plentiful and of excellent quality. Sometimes they will do a kindness to a mortal who has worked side by side with them for years, not doing anything to offend their sensitive feelings, but they are oftener malicious, and their vengeance is swift.

For this reason tinners object to the sign of the Cross being made underground, as the holy symbol irritates the Knockers. A stranger, going through the levels, made a cross on the wall by an adit, or opening, that he might know his way, for he had to return alone. He was directly implored by the men, his guides, to alter the mark into another form, for a cross would certainly bring ill-luck to the mine. Notwithstanding this, the Piskies, another tribe of Cornish spirits, who have hopes of ultimate salvation, meet at Christmas Eve at the bottom of the deepest mines, when exquisite music may be heard, with choirs of unearthly voices singing, "Nowell, Nowell." The Knockers sometimes betray the presence of an unsuspected lode of ore, from strange noises being heard underground, as of miners at work, in places where there is no mortal shaft. Houses built over such spots are subject to uncanny hauntings.

In a life of constant, unforeseen peril, it is natural that supernatural warnings should be eagerly watched for. To meet a red-haired woman or to see a hare run across the path when going to work is an evil omen, and many a man will forfeit a day's pay rather than go underground after such a token. At Wheal Vor a fatal accident was always presaged by the appearance of a white hare or rabbit in one of the engine-houses. This mysterious animal has often been chased in the enclosed space by the men - no dog dares join the hunt - but always escapes. On one occasion it dodged into an unused pipe lying on the ground, and stopped at the farther end, exactly as a living rabbit might have done. Secure of their prey, the pursuers rushed to the spot, only to find the pipe empty, and all trace of their quarry vanished.

The Seven Whistlers, why seven no man can tell, for they are invisible, also warn the tinners against decending in the face of impending danger, by strange, musical whistlings heard in the air at the shaft's mouth.

At Wheal Vor, there was once an accident in one of the engine-houses, not that where the white rabbit is seen, which resulted in the death of a man and boy, their remains being burned in the furnace. From that moment troops of little black dogs haunted the spot, seeming to issue from the furnace when all the doors were shut. No bribes nor threats would induce the men to be left alone in such company, and it was even difficult to get hands to work this machine.

At another mine there was, or is, an apparition known by the gruesome name of the "Dead Hand." This is seen in a deserted shaft, long unused, and is always the forerunner of misfortune. In the evening dusk a faint glow shines from the shaft, and those bold enough to walk up to its edge may see a man's hand moving up or down the empty hole, as though someone were climbing where no ladder has stood for many a day. This had grasps a miner's candle, fixed in a ball of clay in the usual manner, the spectral gleam falls upon the hand, though no other part of the body is visible. The light has the irregular motion of a candle hld by a man who grasps stave after stave of a ladder while his finger and thumb clasp the clay socket. Tradition tells how an unlucky tinner, who did not bear the best of characters among his fellows, while ascending alone, was seized with giddiness, tripped, and fell. Though he was buried with Christian rites, yet the appearance was first seen soon after his death; and his late comrades, terrified, took the trouble to sink a new shaft rather than pass the ghostly hand upon the narrow ladders.

Saint Perran is the patron saint of tinners and is said to have invented their banner, a white cross on a black ground, symbolising the black tin ore and the white metal. Some think it was he who first taught the Cornish folk to "stream" for tin. But he lived in the fourth century after Christ, so it is difficult to reconcile this with the other legend of the Tyrians who traded in Cornwall in the days of King Solomon. Be this as it may, Saint Perran was a man of great local importance in his day, for many villages are called by his name, such as Perranzabuloe, Perranawhorthal, Perranuthnoe, and Perranporth. There is a story that he sailed the seas from Ireland sitting miraculously upon a floating mill-stone, so perhaps his history is not to be entirely accepted without question.

However, one evening when the holy man was cooking his supper, he took a large, heavy black stone for one side of his fireplace. This primitive stove burned with intense heat, and suddenly a stream of brilliant white metal flowed from the block of ore. The Saint rejoiced; and called the Cornishmen together that they might celebrate his discovery with feasting. This they did with much zeal, consuming their national drinks of mead and metheglin in such quantities that "Drunk as a Perraner," passed into a proverb that remains to the present time. This event took place on the second Thursday before Christmas, since called Pierous Day, and still kept as the tinners' holiday.

The Globe, 17th September 1902.

More Cornish mining traditions by Herbert Richards.

About a century ago, when mining was in full swing in Cornwall, Cornish miners were very superstitious. To this day many of the old beliefs remain.

In the old mining days it was considered unlucky to make the form of a cross on the side of a mine, and on no account must one whistle for fear of vexing the "knackers" and by so doing bring ill luck; but one could sing or even swear, without producing any ill effect.

In one mine, a black cat was often seen to descend, but was never seen at the bottom of the mine. A white rabbit forbode an accident; a hand clasping the ladder and coming down with or after a miner foretold misfortune.

Snails were known in West Cornwall as bullhorns and if a miner met one on his way to the mine he always dropped a bit of his dinner or some grease from his lantern before him, for good luck.

Strange dreams were sometimes related, warning miners from going underground on certain days with their comrades, when serious accidents have happened and many miners lost their lives.

Rich lodes, too, were said to have been discovered through the dreams of fortunate women who have been shown in them where their male comrades should dig for the hidden treasure.

A miner going down the mine with his shoes on would drive all the mineral out of the mine.

In 1886, at St. Just-in-Penwith, two men of Wheal Drea, had their hats burnt on Monday morning after the birth of their first children.

Three hundred fathoms down at Cooks Kitchen Mine, near Camborne, swarms of flies, known by the miners as Mother Margarets, could be heard buzzing, being bred in the dark; they had a great dislike to light.

Swallows were said to spend the winter in deep and disused Cornish mines. It was their custom to sing at seeing the first swallow appear.

A water-wagtail, called by miners "a tinner," perched on a window-sill, was the sign that a stranger was coming. Part of an old song often sung by miners was: "Here's to the Devil
With his wooden spade and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel
With his tail cocked up."

Dowsing in West Cornwall with a hazel was used to discover a vein of ore. The twig was held closely in the hand, the point towards the dowser's breast. It turned round when the holder stood over a vein of metal.

The Cornishman, 15th March 1945.

Cornish Miners' Superstitions (by an ex-miner?)

(By Herbert Richards).
It has been said that Cornish miners are a class very superstitious, and that they take particular notice of tokens, which they say portend good or ill luck. They also affirm that many lives have been saved from disaster by carefully watching signs and tokens. Nearly everyone, however, is more or less superstitious, though most people would deny this. Ninety-nine persons out of a hundred will walk around a ladder rather than under it. How many will refuse to sit thirteen at table, or to embark on some undertaking on the thirteenth of the month. I would like, therefore, to give to readers of the "Cornishman" some of the happenings which were said to have taken place in some of our local tin mines, when mining was in full swing, and the rattle of stamps made music in the valleys.

Miners affirm that they often see little imps or demons underground, and that their presence is a sign of good luck, and that they indicate the presence of lodes of tin, about which they work during the absence of the miners. A miner was once heard to say that he had often seen them, sitting on pieces of timber, or tumbling about in curious attitudes when he went underground to work.

Another story is that miners do not like the form of the Cross made underground. A man on one occasion going through a level made a cross by the side of one, to mark his way back, as he would have to return by himself. But he was compelled to alter it into another form.

If miners see a snail when going to bal in the morning, they drop a piece of tallow candle by its side.

Two miners who worked at Wheal Vor, in Breage, were in the habit of calling out a dog or two and hunt over the Godolphin estate nearby. One morning while they were with the dogs, one of them gave the alarm that a man on horseback was coming down the road. "It's not possible," said the other. "No horse can ever come over that road."
"Yes it is," said the other, "And old Capn. T is on its back," replied the first.
"Hold thy tongue," replied his comrade. "Capn. T died months ago."
"I know that," said the other, "but tes he sure enough."
Both crouched down behind a bush, but the informant, whose father was one of the parties, declared that the appearance of Capt. T on a black horse passed noiselessly down the road immediately before them, but that he did not notice their presence.

Another strange tale comes from Wheal Vor. A man and a boy were engaged in sinking a shaft, when the lad through accident or carelessness, missed in charging a hole, so it was found necessary to pick out the charge. This they proceeded to do, while the man severely repremanded the boy for carelessness. Several miners were on the plat above, chatting with the man and boy. Suddenly the charge exploded, when man and boy were seen to be thrown up in a volume of flame. A party quickly descended, and the remains of the poor fellows were seen to be scorched beyond recognition. A bystander, in order to spare the feelings of the relatives, caught the burning mass on a shovel and threw it into the blazing furnace of Woolf's engine nearby. From that time the engine man declared that numbers of little black dogs continually haunted the place, even when the doors were closed, and it was found very difficult to get an engine-man to work the engine.

On Christmas Eve, in former days, the "small people," known as "Spriggans," met at the bottom of the deepest mines and sang Christmas carols, and the miners during their work could hear melodious voices beyond all earthly voices singing the well-known carol "Noel" and the strains of a deep-toned organ shook the rocks.

It is said that miners often hear with alarm, noises as if other miners were at work deep underground, and at no great distance, the wheeling of barrows, the sound of pickaxes, and the fall of earth, are distinctly heard through the night. This is supposed to be the echo of their own labours, but sometimes the noises continued long after their labours were ended and voices were occasionally intermingled with the sounds.

Midsummer-eve and New Year's Day were holidays with the miners. It is said that they refused to work on those days from superstitious reasons.

I heard recently that just before the accident at Wheal Reath, a few weeks ago, when three miners were trapped by an inflow of water, that a miner had a warning that something was going to happen at the mine, and he did not go underground. The following incident illustrates this belief in warnings. A workman once lodged in a house near Wheal Grey, in Breage. He says the daughter of the person with whom he lodged, came in to her mother crying, "Billy and Jim ben out theer for more than an hour, and I ben chasing them among the banks and they wa'ant let me catch them. As fast as I go to one bank, they go to another."
"Hold your tongue, child," said the mother. "Twas their fore-noon core, an they have both ben in bed these hours..."
"I'm sure I ben chasing them," said the child.
The mother then went upstairs and awoke the lads, telling them the story. One of them at once said: "It is a warning, something will happen in the old end, and I sha'ant go to mine this core."
"Nonsense," said the other. "Don't be so foolish. The child has been playing with some strangers, and it isn't worth while to be spaled (pay cut) for any such foolishness."
"I tell you," replied the other, "I won't go," and as it was useless for one man to go alone, both remained away, and strange as it may seem, in the course of the night a run took place in the end they had been working in, and tens of thousands of kibblefuls (iron buckets) came away. Had they been at work both men would have been buried alive.

At Wheal Vor it has always been believed that the appearance of a white rabbit, or hare, in the engine house presaged a fatal accident, and some of the miners solemnly declare that they have chased hares and rabbits till they were hemmed in apparently without being able to catch one. A white rabbit on one occasion, it was said, ran into a windbore, lying on the ground, and though stopped in it escaped.

Another strange token comes from Wheal Vor. A man on being relieved from his turn as watcher during the night heard a loud noise like the emptying of rubbish in front of the account house, where he was staying; on going out, nothing was to be seen. The poor fellow thinking this strange sound was a bad warning pined away and died within a few weeks.

The following about the knockers is very interesting. These used to be heard in Cornish mines and caused a great deal of discussion as to who or what they were. They are miners say, the ghosts of the Jews that crucified our Lord, and were sent for slaves to work the mines in Cornwall and we find their old smelting houses, which we call Jews' houses, and their blocks at the bottom of the great bogs, which we call Jews' tin.

We used to break into old shafts which they had made, and they say that if a man on a still night works about these shafts he may hear the ghosts of them at work, knocking and picking as clearly as if a man were working in the next level. In some mines these little knockers were known as Buccas, and miners affirm that these sprites have been heard working away in the remote part of a lode of tin repeating the blows of the pick with great precision, and have often indicated to miners where they might find productive lodes.

The following interesting account of the knockers is related: One Saturday night after I had retired to rest and had been some time in bed, I heard a bedroom door open and footsteps moving about on the landing of the stairs, and a movement in the kitchen beneath. This noise continued so long that I feared that one of the children had been taken suddenly ill, and on the Sunday morning when I went down to breakfast, I asked the servant what occasioned the noises during the night. She declared that none of the family had left their bedroom during the night. But one of the family informed me that the house was haunted, and that they often heard strange noises as of miners beating a borer, but I believe they all come from the lode of tin which runs under the house. They were the "knockers" which you heard working upon a lode of tin.

Numerous stories have come from mines in the Lelant and St. Ives district, where the "knockers" have been heard. Since the decline of Cornish mining, very little is known of these things, but in the old mining days it is a fact that all these curious superstitions were believed in.

The Cornishman, 4th March 1937.

Cornish miner in South Africa

There is something about mines that appeals to the superstitions of mankind; especially is this so on the Rand, where one finds miners drawn from all parts of the world. One of the most marked effects noticed in men who have spent most of their life in mining is a sense of danger that suddenly comes over them.

"Some would call this faculty the sixth sense," writes a prominent mining expert at Cape Town. "If you asked a miner how he knows there is something wrong he will reply that he feels it. I had a remarkable illustration of this a few years ago.
"I was walking along a main drift with a mine captain, a man who had been working in mines over 40 years, having started as a lad in the mines of Cornwall. Suddenly he stopped and exclaimed that something was wrong.
"For the life of me I could not see a thing amiss. The timbers seemed solid and the drive pillars looked secure. But the captain was not satisfied, and insisted on climbing into the stope to investigate. There he found a large crack, running for hundreds of feet, indicating a movement of the strata of serious proportions.
"Had this discovery not been made in time there would have been a serious accident in the mine, with a probable loss of life. I dare say the years of experience in the mine had developed a power in him which the men called "superstition" but which was really the faculty of accurate observation, which to him seemed ununconscious."

The Cornish Telegraph, 20th July 1911.

Cornwall

Among the superstitioins which still survive with old folks in Cornwall is that of the "knockers." The tap, tap of the tiny hammers these pixies use is heard, or supposed to be heard, in the tin mines where the lodes are richest. They are supposed to indicate to the miners where it will be best to drive a level. Once the miners reach the spot it is said the tapping ceases.

A few generations back such noises were said to be caused by the ghosts of the Jews who crucified the Saviour, and who were sent to work in the tin mines as slaves by the Roman Emperor. Latter-day science, with its explanations of the physical causes of such sounds in the depths of the earth, has killed all the romantic and legendary lore which obtained so abundantly in the duchy in the early decades of last century.

Weekly Mail, 30th August 1902.