Combe, the hilltop is cut up by innumerable ravines ending in
swallets, the water of which comes to light again in a large stream
in the Yeo valley near Upper Langford, about a mile away. Several of
these swallets look as if they would repay the trouble of a little
excavation; and the size of the stream at the point of issue indicates
the existence of large cavities in the line of its subterranean course.
E. A. B.
THE CORAL CAVE AT COMPTON BISHOP
A cave just discovered near Compton Bishop, on the skirts of Mendip,
furnishes valuable evidence in corroboration of the theory that the
Limestone caverns of this region were formed at a period enormously
anterior to that generally accepted. It is situated a little way up the
slope of Wavering Down, only a short distance above the upper limit
of the red marl laid down in the Triassic age, unconformably on the
denuded edges of the Carboniferous Limestone.
We had been engaged in some exploring work in the Cheddar caves, the
results of which were of a negative kind, but none the less important,
as modifying the lines of costly excavation. Accompanied by the Messrs.
Gough, the proprietors of the great cave at Cheddar, we proceeded late
in the day to Axbridge, where Mr. Balch joined the party. Our goal was
a certain cavern, explored about a century ago, and described by the
antiquary Phelps, but now little known. This purpose was, however,
not carried out that day, for in making inquiries about the cave as
we passed through the village of Cross, we got wind of a cavern that
had never yet been explored, and was therefore treasure-trove to such
ardent cave workers. Two years ago, in blasting for stone to line a
drinking-place for cattle, a farmer had blown a hole into the top of
a subterranean cavity. Two 30-rung ladders were lashed together, so
we learned, and a bold countryman, secured by a cart-rope, descended
into the mysterious hollow, alighting on a slope of shifting stones
and earth, whence he could see a second chasm, black as Tophet and of
unknown profundity, yawning beneath him. No one would venture on this
further descent; a rock was rolled against the opening to prevent sheep
or incautious persons from tumbling in, and there for the time being
was an end of the matter.
Our first task was to withdraw this formidable plug. It was a sound,
unfissured block of Mountain Limestone, weighing perhaps half a ton. We
thought that six men with a rope ought to move it easily; but we could
not make it budge. A spade and a crowbar were fetched, with which we
laboured diligently for an hour; but the only effect was to drop the
stone deeper into the hole. A sledgehammer was now obtained from the
nearest smithy, and one after another we attacked the foe with might
and main. At length it yielded. Pieces flaked off, and at last it
split; the fragments tumbled into the chasm, and the rock, diminished
to half its former size, was rolled away. The job had taken two hours
and a half, and it was now dark.
Mr. Balch and I cast lots for the honour of the first descent: it fell
to me. An Alpine Club rope was tied on as life-line, whilst a 70-foot
cotton rope was to be used for lowering and lifting. Slung in a bight
of the latter, I was carefully let down over the cliff-like face below
the entrance. The cavity formed part of a huge choked swallet, which
extended up into the hill above the point where we had been working,
and ran away obliquely underneath, so that I was coming down from a
hole perforating one corner of the roof. Over against the hole was
the steep slope of earth and scree already mentioned, steep almost
as a wall, and the scree so loose that it seemed to be in a state
of suspended animation. As soon as one came into contact with the
treacherous stuff, an avalanche of stones was launched, and I sought
in vain for a spot where it would be safe to unrope and await the next
man. The cliff down which I had been lowered was undercut by a wide
archway, through which I looked into a black, forbidding pit gaping at
the bottom. With nowhere to rest, and with the risk of falling stones,
it was obviously wiser to finish the descent before another man started.
Tying the loose rope round me (for it was necessary to swing out under
the arch), I was let down slowly, and began to slip over a smooth,
greasy rock-face into the unknown cavity. At 60 feet from the ground
I alighted at the top of a slope of stones, and was able to remove
the ropes and scramble to the bottom. Lighting some magnesium wire,
I found myself in a bell-shaped chamber about 65 feet high, opening
above by the precipitous archway into the upper cavity, and on the
other side into an ascending vault running north-west. All around
were the indelible marks of water action in the remote past. On the
upper side the rocks were carved and pitted as by the swirling of a
violent torrent. But there was now no sign of running water, only the
drip, drip from the moist roof; and the outlet of the ancient stream
at the bottom of the cavern was blocked up by a deep accumulation of
débris. Among the countless fragments strewn all over the floor I found
a large stone covered with a mass of dog-tooth crystals, clear as
diamonds and large as walnuts. But at the very bottom of the place was
something even more lovely, myriads upon myriads of exquisite spicules
of carbonate, some little more than specks of red, orange, and amber,
but thousands like wee tendrils of coral three-eighths of an inch
in length. They were the growth, through age after age, of a splash
deposit from the roof or from the stream that had disappeared. Such a
formation is not rare in water caverns; but in such beauty of shape and
hue it is rare indeed, for these tender little crystal flowers took
all manner of forms, blossoming ofttimes into wreaths and clusters
like a miniature coral. One of the most exquisite and most puzzling
features was that the dots and spicules were often arranged in set
patterns, symmetrical and even geometrical, in tiny circles, squares,
and triangles, by the rhythmic action of the waters that had left this
beautiful record of their passage. We named the cave the Coral Cavern.
As the descent had not been direct, and there might be difficulty in
recovering the ropes if once let go, it seemed most prudent that no
one should follow me down for the present. Climbing the slopes of
rocks and scree that led up through a lofty vault to the north-west,
I reached a height of considerably more than 100 feet above the floor
of the Coral Cavern, the present floor of which is 90 feet below the
point of entrance. The open way then came to an end abruptly, in a tiny
grotto, at a distance of 240 feet from that point. But hard by there
were funnel-like cavities penetrating the roof, and hinting at the
proximity of a Secondary swallet hole on the hillside close overhead.
Evidently, when the cave was in working order, in times of indefinable
remoteness, a big stream had run down this steep vaulted passage, and
united with the main stream at the bottom, both then pursuing their way
into the fissures of the rock, and ultimately finding an exit into the
open air at some point now buried under Triassic deposits. Enormous
slabs of Limestone, smooth, and fitting close over each other like
boiler-plates, formed the sloping floor of this tunnel on one side.
These too were a conspicuous testimony to powerful water action.
At present the red marl of the Trias comes nearly up to the artificial
entrance of the cavity. It is obvious that when the cave was occupied
by a stream, its waters must have found a vent some distance below the
upper limit of the marl; whence it necessarily follows that the marl
has been laid down here since that period. Much evidence has been
gathered in the course of our cave work in the Mendips to show that
many of the caverns are older than the vast accumulations of Dolomitic
Conglomerate and other deposits of Triassic age, but nowhere is the
proof put so clearly and concisely as by the new cave at Compton Bishop.
My stay underground was cut short by the fear that the others would
grow impatient. I was hauled up without mishap, save that at one point
the cotton rope stuck fast in a cleft, and I had to pull myself up hand
over hand on the life-line. Two men then went down, with the result we
had dreaded--the rope could not be got back to the last man without
extreme difficulty. Only after tying on stone after stone, and making
many a cast in vain, did we ultimately restore communication. He came
up; the guardian block was pushed back into its place; and at a late
hour we struck down the hillside home.
A day or two later we set out once more to find Phelps's Cavern. It
opens on the very crest of the ridge leading up to Crook Hill, or, as
it is more commonly known to-day, Crook's Peak, a sharp Limestone spur,
running south-east from the western extremity of Wavering Down. At the
foot of the hill, near the road, we came across a small cave, called
the Fox's Hole, which we searched thoroughly for any continuation
upwards or downwards, but in vain. After a great deal of jamming and
squeezing, we got in to a distance of 50 feet, where a low chamber
has holes between wall and floor that had acted as a water-sink to
some ancient system of cavities. But the floor was heaped with stones,
and in spite of our efforts to clear these out, we did not discover a
single hole big enough to enter. This small cave is, doubtless, but the
tail end of the cavern that once existed here; and, indeed, the large
cavern at the hilltop must be little more than a fragment of what it
was. Crook's Peak seems to be the mere skeleton of a hill. To account
for the presence of such a cavern at the summit, one must postulate
a large drainage area in days gone by, and a general configuration
entirely opposite to the present. The higher part of the hill is but a
Limestone shell enclosing these ancient, and now waterless, caverns.
The big cavern is known as Denny's Hole. Descending the sloping side
of an open pit, we found ourselves under an arch of mighty span, the
crown of which was formed by the rock-wall on the other side. Under
this arch the floor sloped precipitously into the jaws of the cavern;
then the roof came close down, and the farther passages wound onwards
as low tunnels, descending steeply into the entrails of the hill. It
is easy enough to get to a considerable depth and distance in the
largest of these, but the journey is not specially interesting, for the
place has been looted by adventurous rustics, and serious exploration
is at present brought to a standstill by the enormous quantities of
loose stones filling every cavity in the floor. Coming back to the
cave mouth, we were struck by the grandeur of the vestibule, which has
every appearance of being the remains of a great subterranean chamber,
the pit-like entrance, through which we look up to the sky and the
sunshine, being the remnant of a cave-tunnel, once perhaps of very
considerable length.
Phelps had alluded to another chamber, of some beauty, to be attained,
at the expense of divers wrenches and abrasions, by a certain tortuous
passage leading out of the vestibule. After diligent search we found a
hole in the floor at one corner, but it seemed to be only a foot or two
deep. Kicking about for some time, with body half in and half out of
the hole, I managed to shift some loose stones, and felt space below.
But the space proved, on experiment, at least as excellent a place of
torment as Phelps's description had been able to do justice to. The
passage doubled back upon itself at once, and twisted here and there
like a corkscrew. Only by obstinate wriggling were we able to worm a
way down to the low cavity at the bottom. Two blind passages started
therefrom, and in one wall was a long, horizontal slit, with some big
place beyond, as we judged from the sound of the stones we threw in.
In various cautious attitudes we inserted ourselves into the slit. The
drop inside, though fearful to anticipate, was a matter of only a few
feet.
The cave we found ourselves in was a sort of double chamber, with
vestiges of a partition across the middle; the whole was some 40 feet
in length. At one end was a pool of water, stagnant at present, or
nearly so. Close by, a low fissure sloped downwards to a vertical hole
or pot that sounded deep; but we could not get near it for the spikes
of stalactite that guarded it on all sides. This chamber, which we
thought must communicate with the series reached by the main passage
from the vestibule, seems to have been hardly ever visited. We heard
a story of a lady's pet dog that had been lost here for a week, and
was not found, although a tempting reward was offered, until a farmer,
who told us the story, explored the corkscrew tunnel leading to this
cave. He found the poor beast shivering on the edge of the slit we
had come in by, afraid to jump. Even the farmer, who thought he knew
all the ramifications of this perplexing cavern, did not seem to have
reached this chamber, the natural ornaments of which showed no trace of
specimen-hunting.
Returning to daylight, we examined a cave vent in the ground hard by,
where a vapour was steaming up into the chilly air. The penetrable
portion was just big enough to accommodate the six feet two of our
tallest man. With some time left on our hands, we decided now to walk
on to Loxton, the next village, where another cave was situated on
a Limestone hilltop. There were only two miles to walk, so we did
not think it worth while to doff our cave panoply. Great was the
speculation that our unexampled appearance excited in the people we
met. We could not be tramps--in fact, we hardly looked respectable
enough; and yet our rucksacks, ropes, and cameras gave us an air of
distinction that was puzzling in the extreme. Faces crowded to the
windows at every house we passed, and at Loxton we had to run the
gauntlet of satiric observation. As we asked our way to the quarry at
Loxton, the general conclusion was that we were in quest of a job there.
This cave must have been a very interesting one long ago, but now it
is like those at Compton Bishop, only a remnant; and besides what has
been destroyed by natural denudation, a great deal has been damaged by
the gradual approaches of a Limestone quarry on the side of the hill.
This has exposed the outlets of several passages. A labyrinth of low
galleries remains, with a few larger hollows here and there; but of
whatever beauty they once possessed they have long been denuded by
the devastating village boy, who has found the intricacies of Loxton
Cavern a perfect paradise. It does not follow that the cave would
necessarily not pay for a thorough exploration. If some of the lower
reaches were carefully examined, entrances would very likely be found
into still nether caverns, of which these dry channels were at one time
the feeders. But the work would be peculiarly difficult on account of
the smallness of the open spaces, and the result uncertain. Yet the
Limestone of the Mendips is so thick--the thickest in England--and the
parts that have been explored are so honeycombed with cavities and
passages, that every gateway into this strange underworld promises
more or less reward. It is somewhere in the neighbourhood of Loxton
and Banwell that the famous "Gulf" was discovered in the days of the
old lead miners. In driving an extensive level through a hill, at a
point 80 fathoms below the summit, they came upon a gigantic rift. A
man was let down on a long rope--so tradition reports--and when he had
descended to the full extent of it he was unable to see either walls
or bottom of the tremendous abyss. We are probably on the track of
this monster cavity, an exploration of which will entail labour and
fortitude. That and the exploration of the swallet at Hillgrove, when
it is opened, are the two most fascinating problems awaiting us in the
immediate future.
E. A. B.
LAMB'S LAIR
A few years ago the Great Western opened what they called the Wrington
Vale Light Railway up the valley of the Yeo, which borders Mendip
on the north. A few miles beyond its present terminus lie the two
Harptrees, in the heart of a sequestered countryside of great pastoral
beauty. Here, where nowadays all the pursuits are agricultural, a great
deal of mining was carried on in years gone by, the relics of which are
still visible in the surface workings, grown over with grass. In the
upland ravines of Lamb's Bottom, near the top of the Mendip plateau,
these are very numerous, and seem to be the work of both lead miners
and searchers for black oxide of manganese. Early in the eighteenth
century a cavern of prodigious size and beauty was discovered in this
locality; but, by one of those curious accidents which are by no
means infrequent in the history of caves, it was lost, and its site
remained unknown for a hundred and twenty years. Its fame, however,
was cherished by the country folk, and the tradition of its fabulous
wonders induced a lord of the manor, a quarter of a century ago, to
offer a heavy monetary reward, which led to its rediscovery in the
year 1880. This new exploration made some noise at the time, and a
fair number of people ventured on a descent. The difficulties were
smoothed down considerably. Ladders were fixed in the shaft, which was
strengthened by timber supports, and in difficult parts of the lower
galleries; solid beds of arragonite were cut through, and a heavy
structure of timber, carrying a windlass, was built out on the verge
of an abyss, to make accessible the floor of the Great Chamber. Lamb's
Lair is even alluded to, though incorrectly, in the fourth edition of
Murray's Guide--that for 1882--and, for a while, great was the renown
of its unparalleled beauties. Then, as usually happens with cave
scenery when there is any difficulty or any peril involved, the novelty
and the popularity of Lamb's Lair waned; and now for a long period the
cave has been derelict, the timber erections have become rotten and
dangerous, and the only visit during many years previous to the one I
am about to describe nearly resulted in a catastrophe.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO LAMB'S LAIR, HARPTREE.
_Photo by Bamforth, Holmfirth._]
[Illustration: PLAN AND SECTION OF THE GREAT CAVERN OF LAMB'S LAIR.]
Our party of four had been engaged in some arduous work near Wells, and
a descent into Lamb's Lair meant a long drive across Mendip, nearly to
East Harptree. We were dropped by our waggonette, with a great pile of
apparatus, at a gate into a field. The field was part of the Lamb's
Bottom ravine, and we had some difficulty in locating the entrance to
our cavern among the innumerable workings and natural depressions that
cut up the surface. At length we caught sight of the end of a ladder
sticking out from a hole that was buried in brushwood, and straightway
we found ourselves on the brink of the 60-foot shaft. The uppermost
ladder was broken six feet from the top, and so was the second; neither
was fit to be trusted. We supported the broken part of the top ladder
with a forked branch, and I took up my station on a ledge 15 feet
down, to steady the things as they were lowered. Each man was roped
for the descent, for the crazy ladders, the decayed woodwork, and the
loose stones in the shaft all threatened disaster. At last all our
paraphernalia was safe at the bottom, and now a muddy progress began
through a narrow, dripping cleft into a low tunnel, that brought us,
after many windings, to the top of a fourth ladder. This one was not
so high, but it was quite as shaky as the others, and a member of the
party got a nasty blow on the shoulder from a beam connected with it,
that gave way whilst we were passing the luggage from hand to hand.
Descending still through an irregular passage, we suddenly entered a
roomy vault with stalactites on the roof. Here the glories of Lamb's
Lair begin. In a few moments we shall be at the threshold of the
incomparable Beehive Chamber, and thence, to a point far beyond what
we can attain to-day, the poetry and witchery of cave scenery are
at their finest. Stumbling over the irregularities of the crystal
floor, we see dimly, by the light of our candles, great luminous arcs
bending over our heads; and then, catching sight of a regularly shaped
hemisphere rising out of the darkness and dwarfing the cave with its
enormous proportions, we realise that this is the Beehive Chamber. When
the limelight is brought in, and its fierce beams play upon the wild
arcades and groining of this fantastic vault, we are astounded by the
wealth and brilliance and extraordinary variety of the incrustations:
not a rib, not a corner of bare rock remains visible; every inch of
floor and walls and roof has been thickly coated with the calcareous
enamel. The Beehive itself, 12 feet high and enormous in girth, is not
more astonishing for its size than for the regularity of its shape. It
is probably the largest boss of stalagmite in England. The sides are
streaked with white and yellow bands, which enhance the weird symmetry
and polish of its appearance; and, on the summit, wide enough for a man
to walk about, we noticed that a number of stalactites, fallen from the
vault above, had become embedded in its mass, and were slowly being
crusted over with the ceaseless deposits. All over the chamber there
is a continuous patter of water-drops, carrying on the work of the
ages, and laying film after film of lustre on the imageries of this
hidden shrine, which man has visited so rarely. To right and left of
the Beehive the uneven floor descends into deep recesses--which we see
as we draw nigh to be rocky porches adorned with the most magnificent
incrustations--leading into two passages. These two porches, the arch
by which we have entered, and the wild vaulting that rises to an apex
over our heads amid a profusion of glistening stalactites, are the
dominant features of this piece of fairy architecture. But who can
count or describe the gleaming volutes and scrolls that wind over the
walls in brilliant confusion, the clustered corbels whence random ribs
spring towards the roof, the lace-like fringe of delicate stalactites
that hangs from every ridge, or the gnome-like fingers and ghoulish
faces, staring and pointing downwards, that one seems to discern amid
the disordered sculpture of roof and walls?
A broken bottle of paraffin and some pieces of cotton-waste, evidently
the relics of the last party who had used them to light up the Beehive
Chamber years ago, were lying in a corner just as they were left. In
one of the galleries I noticed the marks of fingers and the impress of
the clothes of a man who had crawled along the clay floor--as fresh as
if he had been there an hour ago. This changelessness of everything
fills one with a certain awe; but what impresses one as still more
wonderful is that all this consummate beauty and grandeur should lie
concealed and unknown in the midst of modern England, only a few miles
away from important cities, but unvisited by a soul for long periods
of years, while the country people seem hardly aware of the cave's
existence. Were the cave easily accessible, one can hardly question
that crowds of sightseers would be attracted, and much of the charm
would be dispelled, even if its treasures were not ransacked. For the
present these are perfectly safe.
[Illustration: THE "BEEHIVE" CHAMBER, LAMB'S LAIR.
_Photo by Bamforth, Holmfirth._]
[Illustration: STALACTITE WALL, LAMB'S LAIR.
_Photo by Bamforth, Holmfirth._]