Monday 19 January 2015

A Few Cornish Mysteries Part One

Well first I must apologies for the the lack of updates to this blog over the weekend dear readers. But the reason for my internet absence is that I took leave to Cornwall. Mainly my mission was to see my daughter and some very dear friends but I also managed to visit a few rather special places whilst on my jolly to the captivating land of Kernow.

The first stop on my mini fortean foray was to visit the Men-An-Tol situated in West Penwith not to far from Penzance. So after popping into my good friend Sams place for a warming cup of tea, his family and some of mine headed out in convoy to visit the ancient site.

Sam had taken point and decided to make a quick stop off at Lanyon Quoit (pictured bellow.


The Quoit is actually at the northan part of whats believed to be a long barrow type structure and is said to have been a burial chamber or even some sort of mausoleum. There is an old legend that tells of giants bones being found buried next to the quoit and it is also sometimes known by some as the giants table. Another legend has no less than King Arthur sitting atop the stones to  enjoy a meal, just before his last battle at Camlann. Also it is to this place that it is said Arthur will return to fight the last battle that will mark the end of the world.

So shortly after we arrived the sounds of barking hounds accompanied by the sounding of horns meant the local fox hunt was heading our way hopefully not in hot pursuit of any unfortunate creature, which is something Sam and I would of liked to have hung around for and perhaps had a polite word in the ear of the huntsman but as we had the kids with us we decided to move on as huntsmen aren't always open to views that oppose their law breaking and cruel escapades.

After a small drive of only a few minuets we had wound our way through a few more Cornish lanes, where the hedges are made of granite, and had arrived in the small lay by that serves as a car park for Men-An-Tol.

We all made the short half mile journey up the old muddy, puddle filled farm track that leads from the lay-by to the field that had the ancient monument.

These stones never fail to amaze me, all though they aren't giants like some of our neolithic monuments they are stunning non the less. Men-An-Tol, which means the hole stone was erected during the bronze age, and was first described and investigated by a Mr William Borlase a Cornish antiquarian, in 1749. Borlas suggests farmers had taken stones away from the site and its been purposed that these could have formed a circle around what we see there today. The purpose of this strange monument is of course unknown and open to speculations. Such speculations range from the usual calender to some sort of place for fertility ceremonies. Local legend has it that if a woman passes through the centre stone backwards,seven times on a full moon she will soon fall pregnant. It was with this in mind that I didn't let my eldest daughter climb through it, better safe than sorry.



Its is also known for its healing properties, another name for it locally is the Rickets stone and families would bring their children here to be passed though the centre stone and hopefully cured.





Another legend speaks of a Piskie living here that could heal your ills, magically of course.
Sadly we didn't spot the Piskie, I suppose us lot trundling through the field is enough to send even the most magical creatures running for cover.

So now with lunch in our minds we set off over to Zennor and paid a visit to lovely little pub there that does rather agreeable food,as well as a nice drop of cider, and of course a trip to Zennor is never complete with out stepping into the church,  strategicly placed next door to the pub.  Sadly we were to be disappointed, the worst out come imaginable had happened, the pub was FULL!
But happily the church was open and I was luck enough to pop inside and take a picture of the old pew that has a lovely old carving of a mermaid in it.

Now legend has it that this carving was made to commemorate a local tale of a mermaid. The story goes that oneday a very beutiful and well attired  lady started occasionally to attend the Sunday services at the church, and it wasn't long before her exquisite singing voice became the talk of the other parishioners, and she caught the eye of many a young suitor. But it was a handsome young man named Matthew Trewella who gained the favour of the young woman. It was said that Matthew had a singing voice surpassed only by the mysterious lady. The one Sunday after the service she was seen to give Matthew a smile and the smitten young man followed her towards the sea. He was never seen again.

After many years Matthews disappearance had faded from the memories of the locals until one day a ship had dropped anchor in a near by bay when a mermaid appeared and asked the captain to move his anchor as it was blocking the door to her house and her children and husband Matthew were trapped inside.

After taking a couple of photos of the carving and admiring the small church and the carving for a while our stomachs dictated it was time to go in search of an eatery that could accommodated our numbers, four adults and five children. This inevitably was a chain type pub that served something tasteless but filling. After we had eaten and the kids had run riot in the pubs play area we said our good byes and headed back to St Ives for the evening, where I was lucky enough to see yet another dear friend who I spent the evening with enjoying a glass or two of wine.

The day after I was particularly excited about that days excursion, a trip to Mawnan Smith, the home of the Cornish Owlman was on the cards. So after a good breakfast the car was once again winding its way through highsided Cornish lanes, and it wasn't long befor I was parking the car and exploring the grounds of Mawnan Church where the Owlamn was first reported.

But the curiosities at Mawnan can wait for tomorrow, until then thanks for reading.



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