Cornish Pasties and KnockersCornish Knockers and small pixie-like creatures said to inhabit tin mines of Cornwall. If you were good to them they will help guide you.
The ubiquitous Cornish pasty is undoubtedly Cornwall's best-known export today. It is widely available throughout Britain and comes with a variety of fillings, including chicken tikka and beef with stilton. The pasty, however, had been a favourite of the affluent upper classes from at least the thirteenth century. It wasn't until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries that it gained popularity among Cornish tin workers.
Because of the depths at which they worked, wives would bake pasties in the morning to feed their men throughout their long and difficult stints in the mines. Each wife would inscribe his initials into the pasty's crust as a way of identification so that their husbands could tell whose pasty was whose.
An entire meal was provided by a pasty's traditional filling of beef, onion, and swede, which was then sealed in its own crust. Cornish women would actually put everything and everything into their pasties and according to an old tale, the Devil never crossed the River Tamar into Cornwall because of concern that he may wind up as the contents of a Cornish pasty.
Given the hazardous conditions in which the tin miners laboured, it is crucial to take into account whether a pasty's crust can withstand being dropped into a mine shaft. The crust, which the miners didn't eat, served as a barrier against the grime on their hands from contaminating the food inside because arsenic was frequently found alongside the tin in the mines.
Ogee is a Cornish slang name for pasty that was derived from the word hoggan, a kind of bread. Some of the tin mines provided stoves so that raw pasties could be prepared on the spot. When they were ready, the women who prepared the ore on the surface and also did the cooking and laundry, known as bal maidens, would cry "Oggy Oggy Oggy" down the mine, to which the ravenous miners would respond, "Oi! Oi! Oi!" The well-known cry that is frequently heard during football games is supposed to have its origins here.
In addition to providing the miners with energy throughout their demanding day, the pasty could also be used supernaturally to appease the knockers that lurked in the mines' deepest, darkest crevices.
According to legend, Cornish Knockers were pixie-like beings that stood 60 cm (2 feet) tall, had long, hooked noses, and had thin arms and legs. They mostly stayed to themselves, mining the rich lodes deep beneath, where their picks could be heard chipping away at the ore. They were frequently clad in miniature copies of a miner's costume.
They were commonly believed to be kind spirits who, for instance, guided favoured miners to the richest lodes. They also knocked to sound the alarm when a shaft was about to collapse, hence their name. However, the knockers also had a cunning side and occasionally would pinch the ears of miners or steal their equipment. However, if the miners were unkind to them, such as by swearing, whistling, or shouting at them, the knockers would become enraged and deadly. They would purposefully direct miners who had insulted them towards the mine's most hazardous areas before abandoning them there in the pitch black. Even worse, they would trigger the collapse of a mine shaft, which would have terrible repercussions for their unfortunate victims. Therefore, it was crucial to remain friendly with the knockers and express gratitude for their forewarnings of approaching tragedy. To appease them, miners would always leave a small piece of the pasty crust in the mine. To make it clear who had left the offering, some people would even leave a piece of crust with their initials on it.
By the late nineteenth century, it was believed that the knockers were the spirits of miners who had perished in earlier mining tragedies and who now lingered behind to guard the good and punish the bad. Another widely held view was that the knockers' appearance portended the mine's impending closure. The knockers would stay to watch over the mine after it was shut down though.
Some people do indeed think that the knockers still maintain watch in the abandoned tin mines that dot the Cornish countryside, waiting for the day when they can once again direct miners to the richest lodes, tickle their ears and steal their equipment, or alert them to impending danger.
With the closure of Cornwall's final active tin mine in 1998, four millennia of mining came to an end. Now, the landscape is dotted with the empty shells of their brick engine houses and their towering chimney stacks, serving as ghostly relics of bygone times. However, people who live close by claim that occasionally, a faint knocking sound can be heard resonating from deep underneath. They recognise the sound as a cue to grab another Cornish pasty and make careful to break off a piece of the crust just in case.
