Whispers from the Stones

Around 1645, Ann Jeffries, a young maidservant from the parish of St Teath in Cornwall, claimed to have been visited by a group of fairies. This encounter left her ill and in convulsions.

Supernatural Gifts: After her recovery, Ann claimed that the fairies continued to visit her and granted her extraordinary abilities. She developed powers as a healer and clairvoyant, curing all manner of illnesses and injuries. She also claimed the fairies supplied her with food, allowing her to fast for long periods without harm.

News of her miraculous cures spread throughout Cornwall and beyond, drawing many visitors. However, local magistrates and ministers became suspicious. Her friendly relationship with the fairies was interpreted by authorities as consorting with the Devil or witchcraft.

She was eventually arrested and imprisoned in Bodmin Jail for months on the order of a Justice of the Peace, John Tregeagle. She was held without food, but the story maintains that the fairies continued to secretly feed her. She was ultimately released, having avoided a witchcraft trial, and later married.

The Knockers are one of the most famous figures in Cornish folklore (Kernow being the Cornish name for Cornwall). They are sprite-like beings closely associated with the region's historic tin mines.

They are typically described as small, gnome-like creatures, often said to be about two feet tall and resembling miniature old men dressed like miners.

They get their name from the mysterious knocking and tapping sounds miners would hear deep in the shafts.

The sounds were often interpreted as a warning of impending danger like a cave-in, giving the miners time to escape. Their knocking was also thought to indicate the location of rich veins of ore.

: Like many fairies, they were known for playing tricks, such as hiding tools or extinguishing candles.

To stay on the Knockers' good side and ensure a safe shift, miners would leave them offerings, most famously the crusts of their Cornish pasties and sometimes tallow (candle wax). It was also considered bad luck to whistle in the mines, as the Knockers were believed to dislike the sound.

The legend of the Knockers travelled with the thousands of Cornish miners who emigrated for work in the 19th and 20th centuries, particularly to the American West, where they became widely known as Tommyknockers.

The tales reflect the perilous nature of mining, where supernatural explanations for strange sounds and sudden dangers were a deep part of the working culture.

The Mermaid of Zennor is one of Cornwall's most famous coastal legends, tying a love story to a lasting fixture in a local church.

The tale begins with a beautiful, richly-dressed woman who would occasionally attend services at St Senara's Church in the village of Zennor. Her appearance and stunning, sweet voice captivated the local parishioners, but no one knew who she was or where she came from.

The woman was particularly drawn to a handsome young chorister named Matthew Trewhella, who was renowned for his own angelic singing voice.

The mysterious lady kept attending church, always listening intently to Matthew. One day, Matthew followed her out of the church, down the cliff path towards the sea at Pendour Cove. They were never seen again by the villagers.

The Revelation: Years later, a ship dropped anchor off the coast near Zennor. A mermaid appeared to the captain, asking him to raise his anchor because it was blocking the door to her home on the seabed. She explained that she needed to get back in to her husband, Matthew Trewhella, and their children.

The villagers concluded that the mysterious lady was, in fact, a mermaid who had been so enchanted by Matthew's singing that she had lured him away to live with her under the sea. The tale is permanently commemorated by a famous mermaid carving (known as the Mermaid Chair) on a medieval bench end inside St Senara's Church.

The story is a classic example of maritime folklore, suggesting that the irresistible lure of the sea can entice mortals to forsake their lives on land.

The tale of Saint Piran, the Patron Saint of Cornwall and of tin miners, describes a miraculous journey from Ireland to the shores of Cornwall.

Piran was an Irish bishop known for performing miracles and sharing the Christian faith. However, his power and influence attracted the envy of local kings and chieftains, who sought to execute him.

The cruel rulers attempted to get rid of him by tying a heavy millstone around his neck and rolling him off a high cliff into the stormy Atlantic Ocean.

Legend states that the moment Piran hit the water, the tumultuous sea became instantly calm. Instead of sinking, the millstone miraculously floated, serving as a divine raft that carried the saint safely across the Celtic Sea.

Piran landed unscathed on a beach near present-day Newquay, which is now named Perranporth (Piran's Cove) in his honor.

He settled among the sand dunes, built a tiny chapel (known as St Piran's Oratory), and began to preach. He is also famously credited with the discovery of tin-smelting—a key event that shaped Cornish history. His discovery is often cited as the origin of the Cornish flag, the white cross (the molten tin) on a black background (the ore).

The story of his impossible journey is central to Cornish identity and is celebrated every year on St Piran's Day, March 5th.

The folklore of Jamaica Inn, a famous coaching inn located on the wild and isolated Bodmin Moor in Cornwall, is dominated by two main themes: its notorious history as a haven for smugglers and its reputation as one of the most haunted locations in Britain.

A Remote Haven: Built in 1750, the inn's isolated position high on the moor made it the perfect rendezvous point for smugglers. Contraband—like brandy, tea, and tobacco—was secretly landed on the rugged Cornish coast and transported inland, often hidden at the inn before being moved to London and other cities.

The folklore suggests a dark past involving wreckers—gangs who would allegedly lure ships onto the rocky shore using false lights, only to murder the survivors and loot the cargo. The inn was a known haunt for these unsavoury characters.

This history was cemented in popular culture by Daphne du Maurier's 1936 novel, Jamaica Inn, which is a Gothic thriller that dramatizes the tale of a smuggling and wrecking ring operating from the inn.

Due to its dark past, the inn is now famed for its numerous paranormal accounts:

The most famous ghost is that of a young smuggler who was drinking at the bar in the 1700s, was called outside, and was found murdered on the moor the next morning. His phantom is often seen sitting on a wall outside the inn, unable to finish his ale.

 Guests and staff frequently report hearing the sound of agitated conversation in a foreign or old Cornish dialect in empty rooms.

On quiet nights, the distinct, disembodied sounds of horses' hooves and carriage wheels can be heard clattering across the courtyard, even though nothing is there.

Numerous sightings have been reported of a small, blonde-haired girl named Elizabeth, who is a mischievous spirit known for giggling and playing tricks on guests, particularly in the older bedrooms.

These tales of dark deeds and lingering spirits make Jamaica Inn a quintessential piece of Cornish folklore and a major destination for ghost hunters.

The folklore tale of the Merry Maidens is a famous example of the petrification legend often associated with ancient stone circles across Britain, particularly in Cornwall.

The legend is tied to a perfectly circular Late Neolithic stone circle of 19 stones located near the village of St Buryan, in the far west of Cornwall.

The story tells of nineteen young maidens who were part of a wedding party. They were enjoying a lively, joyous dance in the field one Saturday night.

The Sin: They became so engrossed in the music and dancing that they danced past midnight and into the Sabbath (Sunday), committing the sin of profaning the holy day with frivolity.

As a divine punishment for their impiety, they were instantly turned to stone—the nineteen stones that make up the circle today.

The legend also accounts for two other tall standing stones located a short distance away across the road, known as The Pipers. According to the tale, they were the musicians who provided the music for the dance. Some versions say the Pipers heard the church clock strike midnight and ran away, trying to escape their punishment, but were caught and petrified further up the hill.

The tale is thought to have been promoted by the early Christian Church to discourage the local population from observing old pagan rituals or festivities at these ancient sites. The old Cornish name for the site, Dawns Meyn (or Dans Maen), means "Stone Dance."

The Beast of Bodmin Moor is a famous piece of modern Cornish folklore and cryptozoology, concerning an alleged phantom big cat that roams the wild, isolated landscape of Bodmin Moor.

The creature is typically described as a large, black feline, often resembling a panther or puma. Witnesses report it being three to five feet long, with sharp, prominent teeth and distinctive white-yellow eyes.

The tale gained widespread attention starting in the late 1970s and early 1980s due to a spate of livestock mutilations and numerous eyewitness sightings across the moor. Farmers frequently found sheep and cattle killed with injuries too severe for common native predators.

The most common theory is that the "Beast" (or a breeding population of big cats) are the descendants of exotic pets—like pumas or leopards—that were released into the wild after the Dangerous Wild Animals Act of 1976 made private ownership difficult.

Other theories suggest it could be a misidentified native wildcat, an animal that was once extinct, or even a spectral, ghostly creature.

The volume of reports became so significant that the British government ordered an official investigation in 1995. The inquiry concluded there was no verifiable evidence of a big cat's presence on the moor. However, it was careful to state that it could not definitively prove the animal did not exist, allowing the legend to endure.

Despite the lack of definitive proof, sightings continue to this day, fueled by blurry photos, vague video footage, and unexplained livestock attacks, cementing the Beast's place as one of Britain's most notorious wildlife mysteries.

The tale of John (or Jan) Tregeagle is one of the most famous and widespread legends in Cornish folklore, portraying him as the quintessential wicked man condemned to endless, impossible labour.

Tregeagle was a 17th-century steward and magistrate known for his wickedness, greed, and dishonesty. He was accused of committing every sin, including cheating orphans, robbing tenants, and potentially making a Faustian pact with the Devil for riches.

Before he died, he tried to buy his way into heaven by giving money to the church, He was buried in Saint Breoke Church, deep inside an unmarked grave lest the local paritioners complained.  

After his death, Tregeagle's soul was not allowed to rest. He was famously summoned from his grave during a court case by a litigant who wished for him to testify, perhaps about a land dispute or an unrecorded payment. To the terror of the court, the spirit of Tregeagle appeared and gave his testimony.

Once back from the dead, Tregeagle could not easily be sent back to Hell, as the Devil and his hounds were eager to claim him. To keep the damned soul occupied and prevent the Devil from seizing him, local clergymen set him a series of impossible penance tasks that would last until Judgement Day:

Emptying Dozmary Pool: He was first tasked with draining the supposedly bottomless Dozmary Pool on Bodmin Moor using only a limpet shell with a hole in it.

The Crying Ghost: Whenever the wind howls fiercely across the moor or along the rugged coast, especially near the legendary location, locals say it is the wailing and screaming of Tregeagle as he is pursued by the Devil's hounds and struggles with his futile tass.

The story serves as a powerful morality tale about the consequences of greed and wickedness, with Tregeagle's misery permanently etched into the Cornish landscape.

"Jack the Giant Killer" is a classic fairy tale, particularly associated with Cornish folklore, and set during the time of King Arthur. The story centers on a young, clever hero who uses wit and trickery to defeat monstrous foes.

Jack is introduced not as a knight or warrior, but as the strong and quick-witted son of a Cornish farmer. He is defined by his cunning and ingenuity rather than brute force.

His fame begins in Cornwall when he takes on the dreaded giant Cormoran, who lives on St. Michael's Mount and terrorizes the local villagers by stealing their livestock. Jack tricks the giant into falling into a deep pit trap he dug overnight, then kills him, earning the title "Jack the Giant Killer."

Jack's reputation leads him to many more adventures. He encounters several other giants, including the two-headed Blunderbore and others. His victories are achieved through elaborate trickery.

The folklore of the Mermaid of Padstow provides a legendary explanation for one of the most significant and dangerous features of the North Cornish coast: the Doom Bar.

The story centers on a young local fisherman that had fell in love with a Mermaid that frequented Padstow harbour.

One day, he was coming into harbour and saw her flirting with other sailors. So enraged was he, that he shouted warnings to the other sailors, stating that she was ne're but a wicked sea hag, and would liure them to thier doom. He took his musket and shot the Mermaid

The Mermaid clutched her chest and sank neneath the waves, the fisherman sailed over with instant regret of his actions. she arose from the waves one last time and with her last breath, she raised her hand and cursed the harbor of Padstow. She swore that the once-safe haven would be blocked and desolate.

The Doom Bar: Immediately, a violent storm arose. When the waters subsided, a treacherous sandbank—the Doom Bar—had formed across the mouth of the Camel Estuary. This sandbar has been responsible for hundreds of shipwrecks over the centuries, making entry to Padstow difficult and dangerous for large vessels.

The mournful cry of the mermaid is sometimes still said to be heard wailing over the estuary after a fearful gale, bewailing the deaths of the sailors lost on the bar that she herself created in revenge.

The folklore tale of Dolly Pentreath (baptized in 1692, died 1777) is not a supernatural legend but a powerful human story that has become one of the most significant cultural tales in Cornwall, symbolizing the decline and memory of the Cornish language (Kernewek).

Dolly Pentreath was a fishwife from the fishing village of Mousehole, in the far west of Cornwall. She was the daughter of a fisherman and made her living hawking fish in Penzance.

She is traditionally renowned as the last fluent, native speaker of the Cornish language. She claimed that Cornish was her first language and that she did not speak a word of English until she was about 20 years old.

Her fame was sealed in 1768 when she was "discovered" by an antiquarian named Daines Barrington, who was touring Cornwall looking for the final speakers of the language. He published an account of their encounter, bringing her national attention.

Folklore paints Dolly as a fiery, spirited figure known for her strong personality, fondness for drinking and smoking a pipe, and especially for her vigorous cursing in Cornish at anyone who angered her, including the tourists who came to gawk. One of her favorite curses was reportedly calling people "an ugly, black toad" (kronnekyn hager du).

Her death in 1777 was widely seen as the moment the Cornish language became extinct as a community language.

Dolly Pentreath's story is the folk memory of a language struggling against the rise of English and has become a core part of modern Cornish cultural identity.

The folklore of the Jackdaws at Bodmin Jail is a fascinating blend of historical detail, the tale of a real person, and an enduring curse. It primarily revolves around a woman named Rose Wright.

Rose Wright was an impoverished woman from Luxulyan in the 19th century who was locally known as a "witch" or herbalist. After being shunned by her community, she became desperately poor. The story claims she befriended and trained the intelligent jackdaws living in the nearby woods to become her kleptomaniac accomplices, instructing them to steal shiny objects and small coins from the townspeople so she could feed herself.

Wright was eventually caught, convicted of theft, and incarcerated at Bodmin Jail in 1846. The jackdaws, her faithful companions, reportedly followed her to the prison, where they continued their mischievous behaviour.

Inside the notoriously brutal jail, the birds are said to have caused a nuisance by making strange noises, taunting the guards and inmates, and even attempting to steal the keys from the turnkeys.

Rose Wright died of illness in her cell shortly after her arrival. The most famous part of the legend is that, before her death, she placed a curse upon the jail and the town of Bodmin.

"Should the last Jackdaw be born at Bodmin Gaol, so the spirits of the condemned shall rise and bring misfortune and chaos to all that reside within."

Since her death, the jackdaws are said to have remained at the site. The presence of these birds is linked to the jail's reputation as one of the most haunted places in Britain, suggesting that Rose's curse has ensured the spirits of the 55 people executed there will never rest.

The tale intertwines the sinister history of the jail with the tragic figure of a local outcast and the lasting symbolism of the dark, intelligent birds.

You can right mouse click this image and download it if you wish, it's 1280 x 1280 so should be good enough for a cd case cover.

You can right mouse click this image and download it if you wish, it's 1280 x 1280 so should be good enough for a cd  cover.