HIS mighty man held especial possession of the hill formerly known as Carne
Bury-anacht or Bury-anack, [a] "the sparstone grave," sometimes
called St Agnes' Ball and St Agnes' Pestis, but which is now
named, from the use made of the hill during the long war, St Agnes' Beacon. He
has left his name to a very interesting, and undoubtedly most ancient
earthwork, which still exists at the base of the hill, and evidently extended
from Trevaunance Porth to Chapel Porth, enclosing the most important tin
district in St Agnes. This is constantly called "The Bolster."
Bolster must have been of enormous size: since it is stated
that he could stand with one foot on St Agnes' Beacon and the other on Carn
Brea; these hills being distant, as the bird flies, six miles, [b] his
immensity will be clear to all. In proof of this, there still exists, in the
valley running upwards from Chapel Porth, a stone in which may yet be seen the
impression of the giant's fingers. On one occasion, Bolster, when enjoying his
usual stride from the Beacon to Carn Brea, felt thirsty, and stooped to drink
out of the well at Chapel Porth, resting, while he did so, on the
above-mentioned stone. We hear but little of the wives of our giants; but
Bolster had a wife, who was made to labour hard by her tyrannical husband. On
the top of St Agnes' Beacon there yet exist the evidences of the useless
labours to which this unfortunate giantess was doomed, in grouped masses of
small stones. These, it is said, have all been gathered from an estate at the
foot of the hill, immediately adjoining the village of St Agnes. This farm is
to the present day remarkable for its freedom from stones, though situated
amidst several others, which, like most lands reclaimed from the moors of this
district, have stones in abundance mixed with the soil. Whenever Bolster was
angry with his wife, he compelled her to pick stones, and to carry them in her
apron to the top of the hill. There is some confusion in the history of this
giant, and of the blessed St Agnes to whom the church is dedicated. They are
supposed to have lived at the same time, which, according to our views, is
scarcely probable, believing, as we do, that no giants existed long after
their defeat at Plymouth by Brutus and Corineus. There may have been an
earlier saint of the same name; or may not Saint Enns or Anns, the popular
name of this parish, indicate some other lady?
Be this as it may, the giant Bolster became deeply in love
with St Agnes, who is reputed to have been singularly beautiful, and a pattern
woman of virtue. The giant allowed the lady no repose. He followed her
incessantly, proclaiming his love, and filling the air with the tempests of
his sighs and groans. St Agnes lectured Bolster in vain on the impropriety of
his conduct, he being already a married man. This availed not; her prayers to
him to relieve her from his importunities were also in vain. The persecuted
lady, finding there was no release for her, while this monster existed,
resolved to be rid of him at any cost, and eventually succeeded by the
following stratagem:-- Agnes appeared at length to be persuaded of the
intensity of the giant's love, but she told him she required yet one small
proof more. There exists at Chapel Porth a hole in the cliff at the
termination of the valley. If Bolster would fill this hole with his blood the
lady would no longer look coldly on him. This huge bestrider-of-the-hills
thought that it was an easy thing which was required of him, and felt that he
could fill many such holes and be none the weaker for the loss of blood.
Consequently, stretching his great arm across the hole, he plunged a knife
into a vein, and a torrent of gore issued forth. Roaring and seething the
blood fell to the bottom, and the giant expected in a few minutes to see the
test of his devotion made evident, in the filling of the hole. It required
much more blood than Bolster had supposed; still it must in a short time be
filled, so he bled on. Hour after hour the blood flowed from the vein, yet the
hole was not filled. Eventually the giant fainted from exhaustion. The
strength of life within his mighty frame enabled him to rally, yet he had no
power to lift himself from the ground, and he was unable to stanch the wound
which he had made. Thus it was, that after many throes, the giant Bolster died.
The cunning saint, in proposing this task to Bolster, was
well aware that the hole opened at the bottom into the sea, and that as
rapidly as the blood flowed into the hole it ran from it, and did
"The multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red."
Thus the lady got rid of her hated lover; Mrs Bolster was
released, and the district freed from the presence of a tyrant. The hole at
Chapel Porth still retains the evidences of the truth of this tradition, in
the red stain which marks the track down which flowed the giant's blood.
From Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt. Illustration by George Cruikshank.
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