Part 2 Cornish Adventures in Paganism and Witchcraft Blog

Cornish Adventures in Paganism and Witchcraft Blog PART 2

The Mermaid Of Zennor and Initiation At The Witch Rocks

Before heading to Padstow for the Beltane May Day celebrations in North Cornwall, we first stayed for a few days in the tiny village of Zennor in Penwith at the extreme South West “toe” of Cornwall.

We stayed at the gorgeous “Tinners Arms” pub and walked the outstanding beauty and wild Celtic Pagan cliff paths, also the rich Neolithic Pagan sites.

Zennor is on the coast. The cliffs are fearsome, and the hiking is classified as “arduous”. Zennor has a natural rocky harbor and is home to the Legend Of The Mermaid Of Zennor….

The Tale Of The Mermaid of Zennor

One fine Sunday morning in Zennor church, perched on the cliffs of Penwith, the choir and congregation were ready for service when through the church door came a strange witchy pagan lady of unearthly beauty.Her green eyes looked back calmly at the villagers, who were staring, for newcomers were rare in that far-flung parish; her tawny-gold hair flowed down over her back, wild and untrained; the long dress she wore swept the ground like a bride’s train, and was made of some material that no one there had ever seen, for it shimmered like the sea on a sunny day.She sat near the door in a pew on her own, away from other people.

In the choir were some fine singers, but none finer than Mathy Trewhella, a handsome young man who sang a clear high tenor:his voice could be heard all over Zennor Churchtown when he wished.As the choristers sang their hymns and psalms Mathy became aware of the stranger staring at him with those emerald-green mysterious eyes; when he looked at her it seemed to him that a queer faint smile hovered on her face.After the service she was the first to leave the church, and those who went out after her thought it strange how rapidly she had disappeared, as they could not see her anywhere outside.

Five or six times this unknown witchy pagan lady came to Zennor church, always on a fine day, and always she sat far apart from the congregation, watching Mathy and listening to every note he sang.Her eyes seemed to look right through him, and her gaze somehow reminded him of the dim light in caves under sea.He determined that somehow he would find out who she was.

The next time she appeared in church he was ready.Before the end of the service, as the parson gave the benediction, Mathy slipped from the choir stalls and let himself out of the little side door of the church.And so, as soon as the lady emerged, first as usual from the main door, he was at her side.She smiled as if she had been expected him, and took his arm; and thus they left the churchyard together.People coming after them saw them take the winding path that led down the valley towards the sea.

That was the last Zennor saw of Mathy Trewhella.His old mother was heartbroken for a long time, but at least she had other grown children to comfort her.The story of how Mathy disappeared with the stranger was a great mystery, often talked about, and unsolved for many years; in fact two generations had been born and grew up in the village, and old Mrs Trehwella was in her grave before news came of him.

A ship bound for Penzance, and captained by a man who knew Zennor well, came by one day and anchored off Pendower Cove; she put out a boat to get some water from the shore.Soon a woman’s voice was heard calling urgently, “Ship!Ship ahoy!” and the watch, looking overboard, saw a mermaid with green eyes and tawny-gold hair swimming beside them.“Tell your captain to haul up your anchor,” she cried.“For ‘tis lodged against the door of my home on the sea-bed, and I can’t get in to my Mathy and children.”

At this the captain came to the side and questioned her.“Excuse me, ma’am, but did you say your Mathy?Mathy who, may I ask?”Sailors are always very respectful to mermaids, who have pagan witchcraft powers to cause shipwrecks and disaster, and often use them if they are annoyed.

“Mathy Trewhella, my husband, of course,” she said.“Now haul away, if you please.”The captain did not stay to argue, but brought up the anchor immediately.And with a swish from her long gleaming tail she was gone, diving down to the sea-bed and her family.

So Zennor heard the news, and learned Mathy’s fate.Neither he nor the mermaid has ever been since, but in Zennor church now is a bench end carved to show what she looked like:long flowing hair, a sea-siren’s face, and a curved scaly tail.And for all we know, Mathy is still down there on the ocean floor, singing sweetly to his mermaid wife and their children.

In the church there is a carved bench with the Mermaid. Some say the bench is older than the church and the myth grew around it… But then this area is rich in Witchcraft, and the Fae, and the ancestors, and pixies…. Here is Pat sitting on the Mermaid Bench…

High above Zennor on the wild pagan moors of Penwith is Zennor Quoit… A Neolithic burial tomb where over time the earth has been dug away revealing the standing stones that were its walls and chambered roof…

I specifically wanted to visit “Burns Down”. I had read the legend that Burns Down was associated with witchcraft since ancient times… “Down” is old English for “Hill” And the other part of its name was due to the fact that on Midsummers night the hill would be brightly lit with bonfires and torches set by the witches. On the summit are huge house sized granite square rocks, called ”The Witch Rocks”. Locals to this day will not go up on Burns Down after dark due to fear of witchcraft, witches and pagan magick.

I had read of the old ritual of traditional witchcraft initiation… Where after midnight you approach the rocks bowing every third step. You then walk backwards circling the rocks three times continuing to bow every third step. Then you climb the Witch Rocks naked. Placing one hand under your feet and the other upon your head you proclaim “everything between my hands belongs to the Horned One!”. Then you lie down on the rocks and wait for “a sign of acceptance”. Then you climb down and walk backwards away from the rocks bowing again every third step.

Pat and I first went up Burns Down during the day… Here are some pics…

A close up of the Witch Rocks

On the evening before Beltane…. I had determined to climb Burns Down in the dark and perform the initiation ritual. In preparation Pat and I had stopped off in Glastonbury on the way down to pagan Cornwall. There, at the famous witchcraft supplies store, The Cat And Cauldron”, I had the owners craft me a Horned God incense, anointing oil and some black candles and charcoal to burn the ritual witchcraft incense upon.

After midnight, with a flashlight, I left the pub… Walked through sleepy Zennor and followed the public footpath 2 miles uphill onto Burns Down.

It got steeper and more arduous with every step. But I was filled with excitement and so marched on.

I hit the summit. Placed my ritual items on the large square shaped witch rock and removed my clothes.

I then performed the ritual as I had read. Bowing and circling until it was time to climb the rock. It was freezing! Lighting the charcoal was almost impossible. The wind blows directly off 1000’s of miles of the north Atlantic and roars straight up Burns Down.. At Beltane it’s cold and extremely wild and windy.I could not get the candles alight at all. So I arranged them in a pentacle. I invoked the Horned God and the Queen Of The Fey and anointed myself and burned the Horned God incense. To raise power I spilled my seed and a little of my blood upon the rock. I then as instructed put my hand on my head and under my feet and proclaimed my self a witch and that I belonged to the Horned God. I then lay in the shape of a pentacle on that freezing rock and waited for my “sign”.

The night, although freezing, was clear and the skies were amazing as there is so little light pollution in this wild pagan place. After about 20 freezing minutes a shooting star shot through the sky from between my legs, over my body and head. “That MUST be the sign”!!! I thankfully got down and walked backwards bowing as instructed. I then got dressed and started back down the hill.

I was suddenly stuck by a feeling of “not being alone. I have never felt anything like it before or since. It felt like an immense and vastly powerful presence was there so close and tangible that I could touch it. I was full of awe and more than a little scared, and I am NEVER scared in the dark. I started hiking and the feeling grew stronger. I kept looking over my shoulders every few steps. It was intense. Then I stumbled across the skull of a horned sheep next to a grave marker, which I was not expecting, and my senses went into overdrive! I walked quicker and quicker. My alarm grew… I started jogging, and half falling on the rocky path. I was shining the flash light all around and constantly looking over my shoulders. In the end I freely admit I ran at full tilt all the way back to Zennor. The unbelievable sense of presence and power did not lift until I reached the village.

I arrived back in our room after 2am. Pat says I was white as a sheet, highly agitated and shivering with cold and fear. I told her of my experience. She was impressed and tells people to this day that even though I have been through all three wicca initiations and up to the KEW degree in OTO, that the night on Burns Down was my REAL initiation. I agree with her. And I have never been the same since. Something huge, ancient and immensely powerful was on the moors with me that night!

Years later I read in Gemma Gary’s awesome The Devils Dozen a variation of the exact ritual I had performed… And I was blown away as Gemma Gary described that the SIGN is an intense feeling of being watched!!! And all the pieces fell in place. The shooting star was never the sign… The awe inspiring sense of presence and power of the Horned God WAS….

In Part 3 we go high above another coastal village, Modron, named after the Celtic Goddess Madron… To her holy well and some of the most famous neolithic monuments on the high Penwith celtic pagan moors!

Here is the excellent The Devils Dozen by Gemma Gary from our witchcraft supplies online! The Devil's Dozen by Gemma Gary