The date is 1563, for the last three years the coast of Cornwall has been raided by the Barbary Corsairs of The Algiers, they took all the people, livestock, boats and of course valuables from the churches, destroyed the Holy books, the dwellings, and those that survived the journey went into slavery throughout north west Africa via the slave markets of Algiers.
In the little village of Kudhva Porth, hidden away from view in a cove barriered by vast, jagged ribs of the earth, the villagers felt the fear, but they also knew no boat could approach. Only if the raiders came along the coast road, would they be found. The news of past raids had been reported, and the villagers felt sure their luck was soon to fail.
Molly Trethewn was one of those that felt sure they would remain hidden, and for this, they thanked the Little Folk, the nature sprites. Molly and the other mothers in the village had learned the ways of the Old Tradition, before the Priests, the Ministers and now the Reverend.
All of the villagers attended the Church, and they were fond of Reverend Trefry, who was indeed an amiable fellow, not taken to religious fervour as was popular by some of the Clergy, but they kept their respect and faith in the old ways and often gave their thanks to the nature sprites as they knew they should. The Grandmothers of the village had kept the rituals and festivals alive all the while, and during the trying times, when you might get ducked or burned for talking of them, it had been agreed the children should not know, the knowledge would do them harm if the Clergy were to hear any such talk.
Molly was alone with her two children on the night of a terrible storm that brought down the Oak in her garden. With a dreadful tearing boom, it hit the ground.
The following morning, amid the scene of devastation Molly and her two children, Jed and Maddie were tidying the twigs, leaves and straw, she saw the Reverend Trefry approaching. “Good morning, Molly, I’m sorry to say I saw that the Oak came down last night. Would you consider a kind donation of the timber for the good of the Church?”
“I’m sorry Reverend Trefry sir, but I’m not sure I could consider that at all. A special tree that one, old, very old, a favourite for sure. It must stay right where it’s lye.”
This confounded him, he wasn’t expecting that response. Molly had no more to say he felt, as she continued collecting the twigs of windblown kindling all around. “Well, okay then Molly, if that’s your last comment on it, then I shall be away, I see you all in Church on Sunday. Good day to you all.”
No sir, there it must stay, thought Molly as she rounded up the children to come back in the house to light the fire for supper.
That evening, shutting away the hens at dusk, picking up a few more sticks, Molly saw them for the first time, hundreds of little soft golden lights were shimmering around the Oak. Maddie appeared around the cottage, “what is it Mumma, what are they?”. “They’re the glow flies my darling, they live in the old Oak, you can only see them in the evening and at night” Maddie was delighted, her little eyes alight with wonder. Walking back in with their sticks, Molly was relieved that Maddie had accepted what she said. Molly had never seen them, as far as she could remember, but her grandmother claimed she had, as a child, describing them as enchanting. Molly now agreed.
If she had been able to get closer, she would have seen them properly, little almost transparent, ethereal creatures with tiny features and teeny limbs, some with wings, nature sprites, the guardians of every plant and creature on land, powerful and full of magic.
Throughout the Spring and Summer, the nature sprites remained in the Oak and they were clearly pleased about it, the crops were thriving, the fruits were plentiful, the livestock were thriving, the milk was creamy and pure, the hens laying more than they ever had. The women of the village continued to give thanks for the bounty and Molly ensured that a little from each meal was offered back.
It was a gloomy autumn day as Molly and the children made their way to Church, the sea mist obscuring their vision, Molly pulled the children closer, needing the reassurance of their hands in hers. As the congregation filed into the little Church, the women greeted each other warmly, calling across the pews to one another, “Hi Molly, we have some wonderful apples this year” and “Yes, there’s lots of vegetables for the bartering this month” “And we all know who to thank don’t we?” Molly smiled at the reference to the nature sprites and their old Oak.
Reverend Trefry welcomed them in, the candles offering little more than a soft hue to the walls. Only the large silver candlestick by the Holy book on the alter space shed any real light. As the congregation began to sing the first hymn, the sounds of voices could be heard, transported in the swirling mist outside.
The singing stopped.
It came again, as an echo that got louder, more voices. Everyone became quiet, ears straining.
Again, this time louder, deep foreign voices shouting to each other, getting closer.
Then a voice rang out “It’s the raiders, its them, Heaven, Lord above, save us” the Reverend was rushing to the doors, lifting the large wooden pole to secure them.
They were approaching now, as the sounds of many feet joined the voices.
The congregation were starting to lose their control, fear spread amongst them, the children began to cry. Voices too scared to shout, they tried to brace themselves, a loud crash came at the door.
Molly looking all around the Church in sheer desperation felt her heart miss a beat when he saw the vision of a soft golden door in the end Church wall, grabbing Jed and Maddie she started over to it. “Quickly, everyone, this way”
With another loud crash, the doors splintered a little.
The Reverend was now herding his flock to the door. As the last of the villagers hustled through the door, the Reverend saw the Church doors cave, he stepped through the door, it instantly vanished.
The room they were in was barely half the size of the Church, with earth all around, and a myriad of polished tree roots all over, the ceiling was a mass of soft golden lights. They could hear nothing from outside. They were just beginning to think they were trapped when the soft golden door reappeared and opened.
The Church was empty, benches broken, doors destroyed, candlestick gone, on the floor the Holy book was burnt. They were gone.
The Reverend was beside himself “A miracle, a miracle from the Lord, today, this day the Lord has saved us from death” As the villagers made their way out of the Churchyard, shaken and rushing towards their homes, small murmurs of agreement as they passed him.
As Molly and a few neighbours made their way home, children ahead, the women spoke in low tones “Thank heavens for the nature sprites, we be dead without them”. “Indeed, indeed.”
Behind her came a voice “What are the nature sprites Ma? What do you mean?” Jed and Maddie were behind them, she hadn’t noticed. “We will talk once we get home, let’s hurry”.
Back in the cottage, her decision made, Molly sat the children down in front of the fire.
The golden lights now closed upon the cottage. “It all began the night the oak fell”.