Crowning the Gump upon Penwith Moor sits Carn Kenidjack with its striking stack of granite boulders. The hill overlooks bronze age barrows and a stone circle, telling the human history of this place which goes back thousands of years. The rugged carn has collected tales told over unknown generations. Known as the hooting Carn on account of the unearthly sound the wind makes as it whistles through the granite stacks of stones, this hill has birthed local folklore warning travellers of the dangers of traversing this section of heathland, known as the Gump, after dark. The devil himself is said to ride the moors, cloaked and hooded, hunting lost souls.
A folktale from the mining villages of St. Just and Pendeen, recorded by Robert Hunt in 1865, tells of two miners returning home exhausted from their days work underground to be fatefully tempted by a dubious shortcut. Although aware of the lore of the devil upon the moor, they chanced their luck as it was only just sunset and they were weary on their feet. With darkness threatening in the east, dusk shrouded the carn in gloom. As they approached the granite crag, they saw lights flickering amongst the rocks. Looking up they saw figures moving around the stacks cloaked in shadows. A rough song was heard culminating in a shrill hoot.
Terrified, they span only to find a hooded horseman had galloped up behind them. They were unable to see his face under his hood, and although they did not know him, they found themselves following him back to the Carn as if under some spell. As they reached the summit of the hill, they saw uncouth and wild creatures coming out from between the rocks. Two terrible savage looking giants were set to wrestle in a circle in front of the stones. There was a call for light, which the horseman provided by throwing back his hood to reveal his terrible face, his eyes burning with a furious fire that lit the circle in an unholy light. To their horror the miners realised this was the devil himself. Still in a daze they watched the two giants wrestle, which only ended when one threw the other off the rocks to his certain death.
The devil’s wild and wicked host surrounded the winner, and with an unholy baying celebrated the victory. The miners rushed to tend to the stricken loser to find his life slipping away. As god-fearing men, they said a prayer for his soul, and at that moment a sudden darkness swamped the hill and silence fell. Then a ferocious gale rushed across the moor and wiped the hellish host away leaving the hillside bathed silver moonlight. An angry black cloud rolled out to sea with the blazing red eyes of the Devil within. Still dazed, the miners could not find their way and had to wait until sunrise for the spell to lift to continue their journey home.
Leave a Reply