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 [2]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.

“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 [3]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.