TORS
Dartmoor from a distance--Elevation--The tors--Old
lake-beds--"Clitters"--The boldest tors--Luminous moss--The
whortleberry--Composition of granite--Wolfram--The "forest" and
its surrounding commons--Venville parishes--Encroachment of
culture on the moor--The four quarters--A drift--Attempts to
reclaim the moor--Flint finds--The inclosing of commons.
Seen from a distance, as for instance from Winkleigh churchyard, or
from Exbourne, Dartmoor presents a stately appearance, as a ridge of
blue mountains rising boldly against the sky out of rolling, richly
wooded under-land.
But it is only from the north and north-west that it shows so well.
From south and east it has less dignity of aspect, as the middle
distance is made up of hills, as also because the heights of the
encircling tors are not so considerable, nor is their outline so bold.
Indeed, the southern edge of Dartmoor is conspicuously tame. It has
no abrupt and rugged heights, no chasms cleft and yawning in the
range, such as those of the Okement and the Tavy and Taw. And to the
east much high ground is found rising in stages to the fringe of the
heather-clothed tors.
[Illustration: A TOR, SHOWING WEATHERING OF GRANITE]
Dartmoor, consisting mainly of a great upheaved mass of granite, and of
a margin of strata that have been tilted up round it, forms an elevated
region some thirty-two miles from north to south and twenty from east
to west. The heated granite has altered the slates in contact with it,
and is itself broken through on the west side by an upward gush of
molten matter which has formed Whit Tor and Brent Tor.
The greatest elevations are reached on the outskirts, and there, also,
is the finest scenery. The interior consists of rolling upland. It has
been likened to a sea after a storm suddenly arrested and turned to
stone; but a still better resemblance, if not so romantic, is that of
a dust-sheet thrown over the dining-room chairs, the backs of which
resemble the tors divided from one another by easy sweeps of turf.
Most of the heights are crowned with masses of rock standing up like
old castles; these, and these only, are tors.[2] Such are the worn-down
stumps of vast masses of mountain formation that have disappeared.
There are no lakes on or about the moor, but this was not always so.
Where is now Bovey Heathfield was once a noble sheet of water fifty
fathoms deep. Here have been found beds of lignite, forests that have
been overwhelmed by the wash from the moor, a canoe rudely hollowed
out of an oak, and a curious wooden idol was exhumed leaning against a
trunk of tree that had been swallowed up in a freshet. The canoe was
nine feet long. Bronze spear-heads have also been found in this ancient
lake, and moulds for casting bronze instruments. A representation of
the idol was given in the _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_
for 1875.
The new Plymouth Reservoir overlies an old lake-bed. Taw Marsh was also
once a sheet of rippling blue water, but the detritus brought down in
the weathering of what once were real mountains has filled them all
up. Dartmoor at present bears the same relation to Dartmoor in the far
past that the gums of an old hag bear to the pearly range she wore when
a fresh girl. The granite of Dartmoor was not well stirred before it
was turned out, consequently it is not homogeneous. Granite is made up
of many materials: hornblende, feldspar, quartz, mica, schorl, etc.
Sometimes we find white mica, sometimes black. Some granite is red, as
at Trowlesworthy, and the beautiful band that crosses the Tavy at the
Cleave; sometimes pink, as at Leather Tor; sometimes greenish, as above
Okery Bridge; sometimes pure white, as at Mill Tor.
The granite is of very various consistency, and this has given it an
appearance on the tors as if it were a sedimentary rock laid in beds.
But this is its little joke to impose on the ignorant. The feature is
due to the unequal hardness of the rock which causes it to weather in
strata.
The fine-grained granite that occurs in dykes is called elvan, which,
if easiest to work, is most liable to decay. In Cornwall the elvan
of Pentewan was used for the fine church of S. Austell, and as a
consequence the weather has gnawed it away, and the greater part has
had to be renewed. On the other hand, the splendid elvan of Haute
Vienne has supplied the cathedral of Limoges with a fine-grained
material that has been carved like lace, and lasts well.
The drift that swept over the land would appear to have been from west
to east, with a trend to the south, as no granite has been transported,
except in the river-beds to the north or west, whereas blocks have
been conveyed eastward. This is in accordance with what is shown by
the long ridges of clay on the west of Dartmoor, formed of the rubbing
down of the slaty rocks that lie north and north-west. These bands all
run north and south on the sides of hills, and in draining processes
they have to be pierced from east to west. This indicates that at
some period during the Glacial Age there was a wash of water from the
north-west over Devon, depositing clay and transporting granite.
On the sides of the tors are what are locally termed "clitters" or
"clatters" (Welsh _clechr_), consisting of a vast quantity of stone
strewn in streams from the tors, spreading out fanlike on the slopes.
These are the wreckage of the tor when far higher than it is now,
_i.e._ of the harder portions that have not been dissolved and swept
away.
"The tors--Nature's towers--are huge masses of granite on the top
of the hills, which are not high enough to be called mountains,
piled one upon another in Nature's own fantastic way. There may be
a tor, or a group of tors, crowning an eminence, but the effect,
either near or afar, is to give the hilltop a grand and imposing
look. These large blocks of granite, poised on one another,
some appearing as if they must fall, others piled with curious
regularity--considering they are Nature's work--are the prominent
features in a Dartmoor landscape, and, wild as parts of Dartmoor
are, the tors add a notable picturesque effect to the scene. There
are very fine tors on the western side of the moor. Those on the
east and south are not so fine as those on the north and west. In
the centre of the moor there are also fine tors. They are, in fact,
very numerous, for nearly every little hill has its granite cap,
which is a tor, and every tor has its name. Some of the high hills
that are tor-less are called beacons, and were doubtless used as
signal beacons in times gone by. As the tors are not grouped or
built with any design by Nature to attract the eye of man, they are
the more attractive on that account, and one of their consequent
peculiarities is that from different points of view they never
appear the same. There can be no sameness in a landscape of tors
when every tor changes its features according to the point of view
from which you look at it. Every tor also has its heap of rock at
its feet, some of them very striking jumbles of blocks of granite
scattered in great confusion between the tor and the foot of the
hill. Fur Tor, which is in the very wildest spot on Dartmoor, and
is one of the leading tors, has a _clitter_ of rocks on its western
side as remarkable as the tor itself; Mis Tor, also on its western
side, has a very fine clitter of granite; Leather Tor stands on the
top of a mass of granite rocks on its east and south sides; and Hen
Tor, on the south quarter, is surrounded with blocks of granite,
with a hollow like the crater of a volcano, as if they had been
thrown up by a great convulsion of Nature. Hen Tor is remarkable
chiefly for this wonderful mass of granite blocks strewn around
it. All the moor has granite boulders scattered about, but they
accumulate at the feet of the tors as if for their support."[3]
[Illustration: VIXEN TOR]
Here among the clitters, where they form caves, a search may be made
for the beautiful moss _Schistostega osmundacea_. It has a metallic
lustre like green gold, and on entering a dark place under rocks, the
ground seems to be blazing with gold. In Germany the Fichtel Gebirge
are of granite, and the Luchsen Berg is so called because there in the
hollow under the rocks grew abundance of the moss glittering like the
eyes of a lynx. The authorities of Alexanderbad have had to rail in
the grottoes to prevent the _gold moss_ from being carried off by the
curious. Murray says of these retreats of the luminous moss:--
"The wonder of the place is the beautiful phosphorescence which is
seen in the crannies of the rocks, and which appears and disappears
according to the position of the spectator. This it is which has
given rise to the fairy tales of gold and gems with which the
gnomes and cobolds tantalise the poor peasants. The light resembles
that of glow-worms; or, if compared to a precious stone, it is
something between a chrysolite and a cat's-eye, but shining with a
more metallic lustre. On picking up some of it, and bringing it to
the light, nothing is found but dirt."
Professor Lloyd found that the luminous appearance was due to the
presence of small crystals in the structure which reflect the light.
Coleridge says:--
"'Tis said in Summer's evening hour,
Flashes the golden-coloured flower,
A fair electric light."
In 1843, when the luminosity of plants was recorded in the _Proceedings
of the British Association_, Mr. Babington mentioned having seen in the
south of England a peculiar bright appearance produced by the presence
of the _Schistostega pennata_, a little moss which inhabited caverns
and dark places: but this was objected to on the ground that the plant
reflected light, and did not give it off in phosphorescence.[4]
When lighted on, it has the appearance of a handful of emeralds or aqua
marine thrown into a dark hole, and is frequently associated with the
bright green liverwort. Parfitt, in his _Moss Flora of Devon_, gives it
as _osmundacea_, not as _pennata_. It was first discovered in Britain
by a Mr. Newberry, on the road from Zeal to South Tawton; it is,
however, to be found in a good many places, as Hound Tor, Widdecombe,
Leather Tor, and in the Swincombe valley, also in a cave under Lynx
Tor. If found, please to leave alone. Gathered it is invisible; the
hand or knife brings away only mud.
But what all are welcome to go after is that which is abundant on every
moorside--but nowhere finer than on such as have not been subjected
to periodical "swaling" or burning. I refer to the whortleberry. This
delicious fruit, eaten with Devonshire cream, is indeed a delicacy. A
gentleman from London was visiting me one day. As he was fond of good
things, I gave him whortleberry and cream. He ate it in dead silence,
then leaned back in his chair, looked at me with eyes full of feeling,
and said, "I am thankful that I have lived to this day."
The whortleberry is a good deal used in the south of France for the
adulteration and colouring of claret, whole truck-loads being imported
from Germany.
There is an interesting usage in my parish, and I presume the same
exists in others. On one day in summer, when the "whorts" are ripe, the
mothers unite to hire waggons of the farmers, or borrow them, and go
forth with their little ones to the moor. They spend the day gathering
the berries, and light their fires, form their camp, and have their
meals together, returning late in the evening, very sunburnt, with very
purple mouths, very tired maybe, but vastly happy, and with sufficient
fruit to sell to pay all expenses and leave something over.
If the reader would know what minerals are found on Dartmoor he must go
elsewhere.
I have a list before me that begins thus: "Allophane, actinolite,
achroite, andalusite, _apatite_"--but I can copy out no more. I
have often found _appetite_ on Dartmoor, but have not the slightest
suspicion as to what is apatite. The list winds up with wolfram, about
which I can say something. Wolfram is a mineral very generally found
along with tin, and that is just the "cussedness" of it, for it spoils
tin.
When tin ore is melted at a good peat fire, out runs a silver streak
of metal. This is brittle as glass, because of the wolfram in it. To
get rid of the wolfram the whole has to be roasted, and the operation
is delicate, and must have bothered our forefathers considerably. By
means of this second process the wolfram, or tungsten as it is also
called, is got rid of.
Now, it is a curious fact that the tin of Dartmoor is of extraordinary
purity; it has little or none of this abominable wolfram associated
with it, so that it is by no means improbable that the value of tin as
a metal was discovered on Dartmoor, or in some as yet unknown region
where it is equally unalloyed.
In Cornwall all the tin is mixed with tungsten. Now this material has
been hitherto regarded as worthless; it has been sworn at by successive
generations of miners since mining first began. But all at once it
has leaped into importance, for it has been discovered to possess a
remarkable property of hardening iron, and is now largely employed
for armour-plated vessels. From being worth nothing it has risen to a
rapidly rising value, as we are becoming aware that we shall have to
present impenetrable sides to our Continental neighbours.
Dartmoor comprises the "forest" and the surrounding commons, as
extensive together as the forest itself. "What have you got on you,
little girl?" asked a good woman of a shivering child. "Please, mem,
first there's a jacket, then a gownd, and then comes Oi." So with
Dartmoor. First come the venville parishes, next their extensive
commons, and "then comes Oi," the forest itself.
The venville parishes are all moorland parishes--Belstone, Throwleigh,
Gidleigh, Chagford, North Bovey, Manaton, Widdecombe, Holne,
Buckfastleigh, Dean Prior, South Brent, Shaugh, Meavy, Sheeps Tor,
Walkhampton, Sampford Spiney, Whitchurch, Peter Tavy, Lydford,
Bridestowe, Sourton. There are others, standing like the angel of
the Apocalypse, with one foot on the moorland, the other steeped in
the green waves of foliage of the lowlands; such are South Tawton,
Cornwood, and Tavistock. Others, again, as Lustleigh, Bridford,
Moreton, Buckland-in-the-Moor, Ilsington, and Ugborough, must surely
have been moorland settlements at one time, and Okehampton itself is
as distinctly a moor town as is Moreton, which tells its own tale in
its name. But all these have their warm envelope of arable land, groves
and woods, farms and hamlets. Such have their commons, over which every
householder has a right to send cattle, to take turf and stone, and,
alas! with the connivance of the other householders, to inclose. This
inclosing has been going on at a great rate in some of the parishes.
For instance, common rights are exercised by the householders of South
Zeal over an immense tract of land on the north side of Cosdon. Of late
years they have put their heads together and decided, as they are few
in number, to appropriate it to themselves as private property, and
inclosures have proceeded at a rapid rate.
In Bridestowe there is a tract of open land on which the poor cotters
have, from time immemorial, kept their cows. But they are tenants, and
not householders, and have consequently no rights. The seven or eight
owners have combined to inclose and sell or let for building purposes
all that tract of moor, and the cotters have lost their privilege of
keeping cows. What we see now going on under our eyes has been going
on from time immemorial. Parishes have encroached, and the genuine
forest has shrunk together before them. The commons still exist, and
are extensive, but they are being gradually and surely reduced. "Then
comes Oi!" Look at the map and see of what the forest really consists.
It surely must have been larger formerly.
On the forest itself are a certain number of "ancient tenements,"
thirty-five in all. These are of remote antiquity. On certainly most of
them, probably on all, the plough and the hoe turn up numerous flint
tools, weapons, and chips--sure proof that they were settlements in
prehistoric times. These tenements are at Brimpts, Hexworthy, Huccaby,
Bellever, Dunnabridge, Baberry, Pizwell, Runnage, Sherberton, Riddons,
Merripit, Hartland, Broom Park, Brown Berry, and Prince Hall. These
were held--and some still are--by copy of the Court Roll, and the
holders are bound to do suit and service at the Court. It is customary
for every holder on accession to the holding to inclose a tract of a
hundred acres, and this inclosure constitutes his newtake.
The forest belongs to the Prince of Wales, but I believe has never been
visited by him. Were he to do so, he would be surprised, and perhaps
not a little indignant, to see how his tenants are housed. A forest
does not necessarily signify a wood. It is a place for wild beasts. The
origin of the word is not very clear. Lindwode says, "A Forest is a
place where are wild beasts; whereas a Park is a place where they are
shut in." Ockam says, "A Forest is a safe abode for wild beasts," and
derives the word from _feresta_, _i.e._ a place for wild creatures. It
was, in fact, a tract of uninclosed land reserved for the king to hunt
in, and a _chase_ was a similar tract reserved by the lord of the manor
for his own hunting.
[Illustration: ROCKS NEAR HEY TOR]
It is more than doubtful whether Dartmoor was ever covered with trees.
No doubt there have been trees in the bottoms, and indeed oak has been
taken from some of the bogs; but the charcoal found in the fire-pits
of the primitive inhabitants of the moor in the Bronze Age shows that,
even in the prehistoric period, the principal wood was alder, and that
such oak as there was did not grow to a large size, and was mainly
confined to the valleys that opened out of the moor into the lowlands.
Up these, doubtless, the forest crept. Elsewhere there may have been
clusters of stunted trees, of which the only relics are Piles and
Wistman's Wood. There were some very fine oaks at Brimpts, and also
in Okehampton Park, but these were cut down during the European war
with Napoleon. After the wood at Brimpts had fallen under the axe, it
was found that the cost of carriage would be so great that the timber
was sold for a mere trifle, only sufficient to pay for the labour of
cutting it down.
The forest is divided into four quarters, in each of which, except
the western, is a pound for stray cattle. Formerly the Forest Reeve
privately communicated with the venville men when he had fixed a day
for a "drift," which was always some time about midsummer. Then early
in the morning all assembled mounted. A horn was blown through a holed
stone set up on a height, and the drift began. Cattle or horses were
driven to a certain point, at which stood an officer of the Duchy on
a stone, and read a proclamation, after which the owners were called
to claim their cattle or ponies. Venville tenants removed them without
paying any fine, but all others were pounded, and their owners could
not recover them without payment of a fine.
The Duchy Pound is at Dunnabridge, where is a curious old seat within
the inclosure for the adjudicator of fines and costs. It is apparently
a cromlech that has been removed or adapted. The Duchy now lets the
quarters to the moormen, who charge a small fee for every sheep,
bullock, or horse turned out on the moor not belonging to a venville
man, and for this fee they accord it their protection.
A good deal of money has been expended on the reclaiming of Dartmoor.
Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt, Usher of the Black Rod, was Warden of the
Stannary and Steward of the Forest for George IV. when Prince of
Wales. He fondly supposed that he had discovered an uncultivated land,
which needed only the plough and some lime to make its virgin soil
productive. He induced others to embark on the venture. Swincombe and
Stannon were started to become fine farm estates. Great entrance gates
were erected to where mansions were proposed to be built. But those
who had leased these lands found that the draining of the bogs drained
their pockets much faster than the mires, and abandoned the attempt
which had ruined them. Others followed. Prince's Hall was rebuilt with
fine farm buildings by a Mr. Fowler from the north of England, who
expended his fortune there and left a disappointed man. Before him
Sir Francis Buller, who had bought Prince's Hall, planted there forty
thousand trees--such as are not dead are distorted starvelings. Mr.
Bennett built Archerton, near Post Bridge, and inclosed thousands of
acres. He cannot have recovered a sum approaching his outlay in the
sixty years of his tenancy. The fact is that Dartmoor is cut out by
Nature to be a pasturage for horses, cattle, and sheep in the summer
months, and for that only. In the burning and dry summers of 1893,
1897, and 1899 tens of thousands of cattle were sent there, even from
so far off as Kent, where water and pasturage were scarce, and on the
moor they both are ever abundant.
Tenements there must be, but they should be in the sheltered valleys,
and the wide hillsides and sweeps of moor should be left severely
alone. As it is, encroachments have gone on unchecked, rather have been
encouraged. Every parish in Devon has a right to send cattle to the
moor, excepting only Barnstaple and Totnes. But the Duchy, by allowing
and favouring inclosures, is able to turn common land into private
property, and that it is only too willing to do.
Happily there now exists a Dartmoor Preservation Society, which is
ready to contest every attempt made in this direction. But it can do
very little to protect the commons around the forest--in fact it can
do nothing, if the freeholders in the parishes that enjoy common rights
agree together to appropriate the land to themselves--and for the poor
labourer who is able to buy himself a cow it can do nothing at all, for
his rights have no legal force.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] The Welsh _twr_ is a tower; _twrr_, a heap or pile. From the same
root as the Latin _turris_.
[3] COLLIER, _op. cit._
[4] HARDWICKE'S _Science Gossip_, 1871, p. 123.