From the ideas of old folks respecting this distemper, one may conjecture that its Cornish name meant some kind of spirit which had, for the time, taken a material form. Forty years or more ago, an old farmer of Sancreed, who had been a noted hurler when in his prime, told me that in his younger days, when hurling matches came off between Sancras and some neighbouring parish almost every Sunday afternoon, he seldom missed a game, and if the silver ball came into his hands it seldom left them until he brought it to Sancras churchtown. When hard pressed, as they always were on arriving near the “gold” (goal) the cry of “Gare teag” (fair play) “for Sancras boys” would be heard for a mile or more from churchtown, and put them in heart for their last run; while St. Just men would be calling “One and ale (all) for Santusters,” as they came down round the Bickan to cut off their opponents, if they could, as their last hope. But that they could seldom do. Then, after resting awhile, with his comrades, he steered his course for Sellan, where he lived with an uncle, or grandfather, one old Uter Bossence. “I can’t say how long we stayed in the comfortable old public house, I’m sure,” said the hurler, “for we were all so happy together and loath to part; those from a distance just stepped in, had a drink, and away; at such times, too, the usually quiet old inn would wake up an be all alive for a bit. Then the ‘tenders’ (waiters) on coming into the rooms with pewter flagons of foaming ale would sing out, ‘The bird in hand, my dears; we can’t stay to use the chalk!’ A fluttering bird with his legs grasped by a hand, was painted on the old signboard, and under this picture the couplet:—

The old man went on to say how every now and then, he got piskey-led on his way home to Sellan. As sure as he missed the church-road he would be led miles about, round and round the same field, ere he could find it again. If he left the field he seldom knew where he was again before the break o’ day, and then was most likely to find himself near Brane Rings (Caer Brane) instead of on the other side of churchtown. Near the Rings piskey would leave him, laughing like nothing else but a piskey! [182]

When once inside the Castle enclosure, he lay down and slept soundly till sunrise or after. For everybody knew that anywhere within the Rings on Brane hill, the same as at Bartinney, nothing evil that wanders the earth by night could harm them. They meant spirits of the Bucka-boo (dhu) tribe. Small people (fairies) are friendly to man and beast, unless interfered with, and Brane Rings was one of their haunts.

If he wanted to get home early and tried to break through the fog, which always surrounds a piskey, he would oftener find himself in broad daylight, down by Chappel Uny than over in Sellan. Sometimes, however, when by bad luck the ball was carried off to another parish, he was ready, on returning homeward, to drop down and sleep in a pool of water. “At such times,” said he, “I tumbled into the first house I came by, no matter where ’twas, for in these times, a Bossence was home anywhere in Sancras or Santust either.” Just as soon as he lay down—whether in bed, among the hay, or elsewhere,—the Hilla would be on him and lay with such a dead weight that he could neither move hand nor foot, nor call for help if it were to save his life, which seemed to be almost squeezed out of him sometimes. When the Hilla left he came to himself and found all about him wet with sweat. “And I felt as sore,” said the old hurler in conclusion, “as if I’d ben thrashed with a thrashal on a barn-boards; then, when I cud, I stretched myself in the sunshine on the bare ground, for there’s nothing like the sun and earth for healing the bruises in one’s flesh and getting the pain out of one’s bones; and I’m sure as I’m speakan to thee, my son, that the Hilla was nothan else but the same cussed piskey, in another form; and older and wiser people say the same thing.”

Only a few weeks since an elderly native of St. Just told me he had often heard his father say that people who were subject to the Hilla, or feared it, were in the habit of taking to bed with them a couple of forks, one of which was placed on either side within reach of the hand. If the troubled person could stretch his or her arms, or only one arm, and touch a fork with one finger even, that instant the Hilla would decamp; for this sprite, like all other evil ones, feared cold iron so much that the Hilla-ridden never had the chance to stab the thing.

The elder St. Just man did not know for certain about the Hilla’s form, as it was never seen; yet, from the feeling on the breast, or whatever it was, people said it was a great hairy thing which lay on them with a dead weight that almost stopped their breathing.

The “Stag” is a lighter creature of the same class. People whose rest has only been slightly troubled say they only had the “Stag” and not the “Hilla,” by good luck. [183]