Cornish Folklore, Myths & Legends

On the rugged north coast of Cornwall, at the mouth of the River Camel, sits Padstow. Here, a tragic tale has been passed down through the ages. While many versions of the story of the mermaid of Padstow exist, they all share a common theme.

One day, a local sailor was out on the coast with a gun. Whether out of love, rage or a simple mistake, the sailor shot a beautiful woman. She was a mermaid and, with her dying breath, she cursed the harbour of Padstow. A great storm raged and, when the skies cleared, a large sandbar lay where once there had been a deep route for ships. The tempest had scattered the wrecks of ships and bodies of their crews across the sandbar, earning it the name Doom Bar.

Today, the Camel Estuary and Padstow Harbour remain accessible only to small boats. This legend is perhaps best remembered in Doom Bar, an amber ale by local brewery, Sharp’s.

Tales of the bucca echo along the Cornish coastline. The bucca are similar to the púca, the shape-shifting troublemakers of Irish folklore. In their hobgoblin form, the bucca come ashore during stormy weather with dark brown skin and seaweed hair. One story tells of a human prince cursed by a witch to take the merman form of the bucca. Local fishermen traditionally leave them fish on the beach, an offering in exchange for the buccas’ favour and help.

There are good and evil forms of the bucca. The good is Bucca Gwidden, and the darker version is Bucca Dhu or Bucca Boo. Since the 20th century, this malevolent form has become a bogeyman for Cornish children.

Deep beneath the earth in Cornwall’s mines are mystical creatures known as knockers. These playful spirits are similar in appearance to Irish leprechauns, although knockers only stand around 2 ft/60 cm tall. Cornish folklore suggests they are the spirits of those who have died in the mines. They wear miniature versions of miners’ clothes and are notorious for causing mischief for miners.

Legend has it that the knockers get their name from the sound a mine wall makes before it collapses. Stories differ about whether this sound is a warning or the creatures trying to bring the wall down. Regardless, miners would leave offerings, such as the crusts of their pasties, to appease the knockers. These mischievous beings are also the reason it is bad luck to whistle in a mine as they don’t like the sound.

Knockers & The Bucca

Although knockers and the bucca share many personality traits, they are separate creatures. Both require food offerings to appease their playful nature. However, the knockers’ mischievous antics are unique to the tin mines.

Find out more about mining in Cornwall in our blog.

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In the captivating world of Cornish folklore, towering giants straddle the realms of reality and myth. Standing tall in their stories, giants leave an inedible mark on the landscape and our imaginations.

Cormoran

Among the most iconic of Cornwall’s giants was Cormoran. He lived with his wife, Cormelian, in the lush forest now under the sea’s embrace in Mount’s Bay. An interesting aside, the Cornish name for St Michael’s Mount is Karrek Loos yn Koos. This translates as ‘grey rock in the wood’, blending fact with fiction. A brutal giant who stole livestock, Cormoran became the first giant slain by the legendary Jack the Giant Killer. His stone heart can still be seen at low tide on the path to this historic island.

Other Giants

Other cruel giants include Blunderbore and his brother, Rebecks. They also resided around the Penwith region of Cornwall. Terrorising nobility and travellers, the brothers also fell to the might of Jack.

Frequently portrayed as bullies who meet grisly ends at the sword of Jack the Giant Killer, there are also kinder giants within the pages of Cornish folklore for those prepared to search. An example is the Giant of Carn Galva, in West Cornwall. This friendly giant enjoyed playing games with local humans. He also balanced large stones so that he could rock himself to sleep, like Logan Rock, between Treen and Porthcurno.

The ghost of Jan Tregeagle haunts Cornish folklore as a ruthless and evil magistrate. Tales tell of Jan committing terrible crimes during his life in the 17th century. These include murdering his wife and children, and even selling his soul to the Devil. Subsequently, Jan repented at the end of his life.

However, a court summoned him back from beyond the grave to testify on the defence in a court case. Trapped in the mortal realm with the Devil chasing his soul, the court ordered Jan to perform a series of impossible tasks until Judgement Day. These included emptying Dozmary Pool on Bodmin Moor with a limpet shell pierced with a hole.

Hidden in the shadows of Cornish folklore prowls the legendary Beast of Bodmin Moor. A more recent tale than many others in this blog, the Beast appears as a phantom creature, often described as a wild cat. It preys on livestock, occasionally surprising unsuspecting hikers.

First reported in 1978, the frequency of sightings resulted in the Ministry of Agriculture stepping in in the 1990s. However, their investigation of Bodmin Moor found no conclusive evidence for (or against!) the Beast. Some theories suggest that the Beast may have been an exotic pet released into the wild. Others believe it could be a surviving member of an extinct species. Counter-arguments that there is not enough large wildlife on the moor to support such a creature add to the mystery. Today, reports continue to come in of this large, shadowy cat.

Other Myths on Bodmin Moor

The Beast is not the only legend of Bodmin Moor. St Cuby’s Well is allegedly cursed, and Dozmary Pool may have been the site of King Arthur’s Lady of the Lake. Haunted stories certainly identify this pool as the site Jan Tregeagle was doomed to empty with a broken limpet shell. These are just a few of the many myths that surround the moor.