“A good man there was of religioun,
That was a poure persone of a toun:
But riche he was of holy thought and werk,
He was also a lerned man—a clerk.
And though he holy were and vertuous,
He was to sinful men not despitous,
Ne of his speche dangerous ne digne (proud),
But in his teching discrete and benigne.”
Chaucer.
A little more than a century ago the Rector of Ladock was the Rev. Mr.
Wood, who was a most zealous churchman even in the days of misty
prejudice, when churchmen in general looked upon nonconformists as
scabbed sheep in their fold, and held that no schismatics were to be
tolerated. From having unwavering faith in the grace conferred by his
ordination, he was endowed with remarkable powers as an exorcist and
ghost-layer. The reverend gentleman was also an adept in astrology and
other occult sciences, which enabled him to perform wonders. The simple
folk of that secluded place, believing that their good parson possessed
more knowledge than is attributed to ordinary members of the three
learned professions combined, sought his aid in their physical
infirmities and social disturbances, as well as for their spiritual
wants. These simple, honest people were not much troubled in regard to
the latter. In those tranquil times they were comparatively temperate
in religious matters. There were many traits in the secular side of Mr.
Wood’s character for which he was much liked and respected. If any
dispute arose between his parishioners the matter was referred to him;
and, such was their confidence in the justice of his award, that they
always abided by his decision. If they had difficulties in parish
business the parson explained the law on the subject, and the matter
was settled accordingly. With the youngsters, too, he was a great
favourite. He encouraged them to keep up the old games of wrestling,
hurling, and other manly sports. The silver hurling-ball was left in
the parson’s care, and at the Tides, when he gave it to the young men,
he would say to them, “Now, my boys, be on your honour with each other,
and let it be your pride to behave according to the legend engraved on
your ball, in old Cornish, which means, as you know, that ‘Fair Play is
Good Play!’ Be sure, too, that One and All observe the ancient laws of
your games, which I will explain to ye if there should be any
uncertainty.” Mr. Wood mostly gratified the youngsters by being a
spectator of their games, and, unless he appeared on the Green, some of
them went to request his presence.
He would often say to the men, “A knowledge of the science of wrestling
is as necessary as that of boxing to give one a ready means of self
defence. Besides, it is a respectable exercise from its antiquity. Old
chroniclers say that the hero Corineus (or Corin) with his Trojan
hosts, by their faculty of wrestling subdued the Giants by whom this
Western Land was possessed when he and Brutus, with their followers,
landed at Totnes.” He told them how Corin threw the Giants’ king,
Gogmagog, on Plymouth Hoe, and then cast him headlong into the sea over
the cliff ever since called Langomagog, or the Giant’s Leap.
“For which the conquering Brute, on Corineus brave
This horn of land bestowed, and marked it with his name,
Of Corin, Cornwall call’d, to his immortal fame.”
“Soon after this,” Mr. Wood used to say, “the rest of the giants died
for grief. The remembrance of Corin’s exploit was also preserved by the
figures of the wrestlers being cut out in the turf on Plymouth Hoe.
These were renewed as they were worn out. The Cornish should be proud
to excel in this exercise, for the remembrance of the great Corineus
from whom they are said to derive their pedigree! So shew yourselves
like brave Trojans, my boys—equally ready to fairly fight and then to
feast with their opponents, using no cunning wiles or tricks to betray.
They were good hurlers, too, as well as wrestlers. Besides this, our
old heroic games, and the chase, which may be classed with them, afford
such wholesome excitement as serves to dispel melancholy thoughts,
which, if they be brooded over, are apt to render people crazy,
especially when they lead such solitary lives as most country-folk
must. The wisest of eastern sages has said that there are proper times
for joyous diversions as well as for labour. Such old romances, too, as
are related around the winter’s hearth, serve the same good purpose in
that dreary season.”
It seems that, formerly, in spite of all the subtle disguises that the
devil assumed, he was mostly known when ranging abroad; and Mr. Wood
was always able to detect and conquer him, if he ventured within his
jurisdiction. The parson changed the Evil One into the shape of an
animal, and then belaboured the infernal beast lustily with his
hunting-whip, until it ran away, howling like Tregagle. When walking,
Mr. Wood usually carried a stout ebony stick. On its massive silver
head was engraved a pentacle, or Solomon’s seal, and on a broad ring or
ferrule, just below the knob, were planetary signs and mystical
figures. This staff was regarded with curiosity and awe. It was said
that, by means of it, “he ruled the planets, controuled evil spirits,
repelled witchcraft, and performed supernatural work generally.”
The following stories are still told by the winter’s fireside in Ladock
and adjacent parishes. As usual there are various versions, which
differ in detail, because our old droll-tellers claimed a free flight
for fancy in such portions of their stories as admitted of it.