Irish Daily Mail

Were Cornish knockers real?

- Bob Windsor, Newmarket, Suffolk.

QUESTION Was there a sprite called a Cornish Knocker? What creatures from folklore have we forgotten?

CORNISH Knockers were small, impish creatures that inhabited Cornish tin mines. Miners would often hear knocking sounds undergroun­d, which they attributed to these sprites.

Knockers were mercurial creatures who could either lead miners to rich veins of ore or, conversely, cause mischief by leading them into dangerous areas of the mine.

Miners believed leaving small offerings of food known as ‘knockers’ bobs’ could bring good luck and protection. Some claimed to have seen these creatures, describing them as small, elf-like beings.

During the California gold rush, Cornish miners were in high demand owing to their excellent mining skills. As a result, these legendary creatures spread to the United States, where they were often called Tommyknock­ers.

Ali Shepherd, Plymouth, Devon.

FOLKLORE and fairy tales are in danger of dying out, perhaps because parents aren’t passing them on to their kids. TV fantasy and Disney have largely superseded traditiona­l storytelli­ng, although some modern fantasy, such as The Lord Of The Rings, Harry Potter and Game Of Thrones, is rooted in, or borrows from, traditiona­l tales.

The Boggarts were household spirits or hobgoblins once widespread in the north of England. They played tricks on people, moved objects and generally made a nuisance of themselves.

A similar creature from Scotland was the Dunnie, also known as the Brownie or Urisk, was believed to help with household chores if treated well.

The Kelpie was a mythical creature in Celtic folklore, a shapeshift­ing water spirit that could take the form of a horse. It was known for its ability to lure children into dangerous lakes or rivers.

The Kelpie was a cautionary figure, warning children and others to be cautious around bodies of water. Particular­ly associated with Lancashire and Cheshire, Jenny Greenteeth – a malevolent water spirit or hag that dwelled in ponds, rivers, and other bodies of water – played a similar role. She was known for her greenish skin and sharp teeth, which she used to pull unsuspecti­ng victims into the water. The Nuckelavee of Orkney was a gruesome figure used to frighten children into good behaviour. It was typically depicted as a horse with a rider, but the rider is fused or attached to the horse in a grotesque manner.

It has been described as having a single, cyclops-like eye, large mouth and long, flailing arms. Its skin was said to be toxic, and it was believed to bring disease and disaster.

James Murray, Inverness.

QUESTION What were the former OED words of the year?

OXFORD University Press introduced their word of the year in 2004, with ‘chav’ (a pejorative name for antisocial British youth) as their selection. Since then they have released their zeitgeist-y selections on an annual basis.

In 2005 the word was ‘sudoku’, and in 2006 it was ‘bovvered’, a catchphras­e from The Catherine Tate Show. In 2007 it was ‘carbon footprint’, 2008 ‘credit crunch’ and 2009 was ‘simples’, a catchphras­e from a car insurance advert. For 2010 it was David Cameron’s flagship policy ‘big society’, and 2011 was Ed Miliband’s riposte, ‘squeezed middle’. This ultimately ended up in 2012’s ‘omnishambl­es’, a term coined for the TV series The Thick Of It but used by Ed Miliband to describe the Coalition’s 2012 budget.

‘Selfie’ was chosen in 2013, while for 2014 it was ‘vape’ and 2015 wasn’t a word but a laughing emoji, before ‘post-truth’ in 2016.

Bizarely, in 2017 it was ‘youthquake’, a term that has never been used in conversati­on, then 2018 was the year of #MeToo, so the OED went with ‘toxic masculinit­y’. In 2019 they felt they should ramp things up, with the nervejangl­ing ‘climate emergency’. The editors were evidently so traumatise­d they couldn’t think of one in 2020. After covid, the 2021 choice was ‘vax’ for obvious reasons. They limped into 2022 with ‘goblin mode’ – unapologet­ically selfindulg­ent behaviour – and 2023’s ‘riz’ is a contractio­n of charisma, two more terms no one ever uses.

Germaine Matthews, Cambridge.

QUESTION Is the Alaska salmon found in the shops the same species as Scottish/Irish salmon?

FURTHER to the earlier answer, your correspond­ent correctly identified the Atlantic Salmon and Sockeye salmon as being two distinct species. She also mentioned that the Atlantic salmon was ‘the familiar, large, paleorange farmed salmon, which is oily with thick flaky flesh.’

Wild Atlantic salmon and farmed salmon are very different. Wild salmon migrate to the ocean where they spend most of their life, then return to freshwater to reproduce. They have a few parasitic sea lice attached. Farmed salmon just swim round in circles and will ordinarily have hundreds of lice – many have their eyes eaten away!

According to the UK Fish Health Inspectora­te, at least 25% of the caged salmon die before they are harvested. Another major difference is that, without artificial dyes, the flesh of the farm-raised salmon would not have that familiar pink colour to it – it would be grey. The naturally occurring colour of the flesh of wild salmon comes from carotenoid­s harvested from krill, such as astaxanthi­n.

■ Is there a question to which you have always wanted to know the answer? Or do you know the answer to a question raised here? Send your questions and answers to: Charles Legge, Answers To Correspond­ents, Irish Daily Mail, DMG Media, Two Haddington Buildings, 20-38 Haddington Road, Dublin 4, D04 HE94. You can also fax them to 0044 1952 510906 or you can email them to charles. legge@dailymail.ie. A selection will be published but we are not able to enter into individual correspond­ence.

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 ?? ?? Folktale: The Kelpies statue in Falkirk, in the central lowlands of Scotland
Folktale: The Kelpies statue in Falkirk, in the central lowlands of Scotland

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