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Part One Alsia Holy Well by Dorn Turner
Genius Loci comment
Not one of the easiest holy wells to find, but perhaps one of the most special. Alsia is a gentle place, whatever fills you mind will become quiet and still as you approach this lesser know holy well. There is no well trodden path, its magic lies it in simplicity and unchanging nature. Cornwall is full of legend and talk of fairies and other little folk. At Alsia....you might see one!
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Alsia Well Cornwall West Penwith Ordnance survey Landranger map 203 Map ref: SW 393251 |
A footpath leads across 2 fields to this
beautiful little spring, tucked away in the corner of the field. It was once
used for wishing, divining and curing children. Rags were tied to the
overhanging hawthorn trees.
This well, and the nearby mill, play a part in a story collected by Robert Hunt
for his book, 'popular romances of the west of England; or, The Drolls,
Traditions and superstitions of old Cornwall',
The spectre Bridegroom
Long, long ago a farmer named Lenine lived in Boscean. He had but one son,
Frank Lenine, who was indulged into waywardness by both his parents. In addition
to the farm servants, there was one, a young girl, Nancy Trenoweth, who
especially assisted Mrs. Lenine in all the various duties of a small farmhouse.
Nancy Trenoweth was very pretty, and although perfectly uneducated, in the sense
in which we now employ the term education, she possessed many native graces, and
she acquired much knowledge, really useful to one whose aspirations would
probably never rise higher than to be mistress of a farm of a few acres.
Although it was evident to the entire parish that Frank Lenine and Nancy were
seriously devoted to each other, the young man's parents were blind to it, and
were taken by surprise when one day Frank asked his father and mother to consent
to his marrying Nancy. The old man thought it would be degradation for a Lenine
to marry a Trenoweth, and in the most unreasoning manner, he resolved it should
never be.
The first act was to send Nancy home to Alsia
Mill, where her parents resided; the next was an imperious command to his son
never again to see the girl. The commands of the old are generally powerless
upon the young where the affairs of the heart are concerned. So were they upon
Frank, he who was rarely seen of an evening beyond the garden of his fathers
cottage, was now as constantly absent from his home.
Rarely an evening passed that did not find Nancy and Frank together in some
retired nook. The Holy Well was a favourite meeting place, and here the most
solemn vows were made. Locks of hair were exchanged; a wedding ring, taken from
the finger of a corpse, was broken, when they vowed that they would be united
either dead or alive; and they even climbed at night the granite pile at Treryn,
and swore by the Logan Rock the same strong vow.
Time passed onward thus unhappily, and, as the result of the endeavours to
quench out the passion by force, it grew stronger under the repressing power,
and like imprisoned steam, eventually burst through all restraint. Nance's
parents discovered at length that moonlight meetings between two untrained,
impulsive youths, had a natural result, and they were now doubly earnest in
their endeavours to compel Frank to marry their daughter.
The elder Lenine could not be brought to consent to this, and he firmly resolved
to remove his son entirely from what he considered the hateful influences of the
Trenoweths. He resolved to send him away to sea, hoping thus th wean him from
this love madness. Frank, poor fellow, with the best intentions, was not capable
of any sustained effort, and consequently he at length succumbed to his father;
and to escape his persecution, he entered a ship bound for India, and bade adieu
to his native land.
Frank could not write, and this happened in days when letters could be forwarded
only with extreme difficulty, consequently Nancy never heard from her lover.
A baby had been born into a troublesome world, and the infant became a real
solace to the young mother. Young Nancy lived for her child, and on the memory
of its father. She felt that no distance could separate their souls, that no
time could be long enough to destroy the bond between them.
The winter was coming on, and nearly three years had passed away since Frank
Lenine left his country. It was Allhallows Eve, and two of Nancy's companions
persuaded her-no difficult task-to go with them and sow hemp seed.
At midnight the three maidens stole out unperceived into Kimyall town place to
perform their incantation. Nancy was the first to sow, the others being less
bold than she. Boldly she advanced saying as she scattered the seed:
Hemp seed I sown thee,
Hemp seed grow thee;
And he who will my true love be,
Come after me
And shaw thee.
This was repeated three times, when looking back over her left shoulder, she saw
Lenine; but he looked so angry that she shrieked with fear, and broke the spell.
One of the other girls however, resolved now to make trial of the spell, and the
result of her labours was the vision of a white coffin. Fear now fell on all,
and they went home sorrowful, to spend each a sleepless night.
November came with its storms, and during one terrific night a large vessel was
thrown upon the rocks in Bernowhall cliff, and, beaten by7 the impetuous waves,
she was soon in pieces. Amongst the bodies of the crew washed ashore, nearly all
of whom perished, was Frank Lenine. He was not dead when found, but the only
words he lived to speak were begging the people to send for Nancy Trenoweth,
that the might make her his wife before he died. Rapidly sinking, Frank was
borne by his friends on a litter to Boscean, but he died as the reached the town
pace. His parents, overwhelmed in their own sorrows, thought nothing of Nancy,
and without her knowing that Lenine had returned, the poor fellow was laid in
his last bed, in Burian churchyard.
On the night of the funeral, Nancy went, as was her custom, to lock the door of the house, and as was her custom too, she looked out into the night. At this instant a horseman rode up in hot haste, called her by name, and hailed her in a voice that made her blood boil. The voice was the voice of Lenine. She could never forget that; and the horse she now saw was her sweetheart's favourite colt, on which he had often ridden at night to Alsia. The rider was imperfectly seen; but he looked very sorrowful, and deadly pale, still Nancy knew him to be Frank Lenine. He told her that he had just arrived home, and that the first moment he was at liberty he had taken horse to fetch his loved one, and to make her his bride. Nancy's excitement was so great that she was easily persuaded to spring on the horse behind him, that they might reach his home before the morning. When she took Lenine's hand a cold shiver passed through her, and as she grasped his waist to secure herself in her seat, her arm became as stiff as ice. She lost all power of speech, and suffered deep fear, yet she knew not why.
The moon had arisen, and now burst out in a full flood of light, through the heavy clouds, which had obscured it. The horse pursued its journey with great rapidity, and whenever in weariness it slackened its speed, the peculiar voice of the rider aroused its drooping energies. Beyond this no word was spoken since Nancy had mounted behind her lover. They now came to Trove bottom, where there was no bridge at that time; they dashed into the river. The moon shone full in their faces. Nancy looked into the stream, and saw that the rider was in a shroud and other grave clothes. She now knew that she was being carried away by a spirit, yet she had no power to save herself; indeed, the inclination to do so did not exist. On went the horse at a furious pace, until they came to the blacksmiths shop near Burian church-town, when she knew by the light from the forge fire thrown across the road that the smith was still at his labours.
She now recovered her speech. "save me! Save me! Save me! She cried with all her
might. The smith sprang from the door of the smithy, with a red-hot iron in his
hand, and as the horse rushed by, caught the woman's dress and pulled her to the
ground. The spirit however also seized Nancy's dress in one hand, and his grasp
was like that of a vice. The horse passed like the wind, and Nancy and the smith
were pulled down as far as the old almshouses, near the churchyard. Here the
horse for a moment stopped. The smith seized that moment, and with his hot iron
burned off the dress from the rider's hand, thus saving Nancy, more dead than
alive; while the rider passed over the wall of the churchyard, and vanished on
the grave n whish Lenine had been laid but a few hours before. The smith took
Nancy into his shop, and he soon aroused some of his neighbours, who took the
poor girl back to Alsia. Her parents laid her on her bed. She spoke no word, but
to ask for her child, to request her mother to giver up her child to Lenine's
parents, and her desire to be buried in his grave. Before the morning light fell
on the world, Nancy had breathed her last breath.
A horse was seen that night to pass through the church town like a ball from a
musket, and in the morning Lenine's colt was found dead in Berowhall cliff,
covered with foam, its eyes forced from its head, and its swollen tongue hanging
out of its mouth. On Lenine's grave was found the piece of Nancy's dress, which
was left in the spirits hand when the smith burnt her from his grasp.
It is said that one or two of the sailors who survived the wreck related after
the funeral, how, on the 30th October, at night, Lenine was like one mad; they
could scarcely keep him I the ship. He seemed more asleep than awake, and, after
great excitement, he fell as if dead upon the deck, and lay so for hours. When
he came to himself, he told them that he had been taken to the village of
Kimyall, and that if he ever married the woman who had cast the spell, he would
make her suffer the longest day she had to live for drawing his soul out of his
body.
Poor Nancy was buried in Lenine's grave, and her companion in sowing hemp seed, who saw the white coffin, slept beside her within the year.
Recommended Books on Cornwall's Holy Wells
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'Secret Shrines' by Paul Broadhurst Paul is a fabulous writer and photographer. He is probably best known for his seminal Earth Mysteries book 'The Sun & The Serpent'. 'Secret Shrines' is a book full of romantic prose and descriptions that just pull you into the landscape itself. [Pendragon Press 1988] Cornish Books from Amazon |
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Ancient and Holy Well of Cornwall by M & L Quiller-Couch First published in 1894 this is a fascinating journey of discovery in time when Cornwall must have been very different. This is a magical and heart warming journey to some of Cornwall's most spiritual and mysterious places. Its interesting to compare their thoughts on these places with our own almost over 100 years later. [Tamara Publications1994] Cornish Books from Amazon |
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