LEJOG Day 18: Silverton to Willand

Weather: Hot and sunny with cool breeze

Distance covered today: 24.9km (15.5mi)

Last night's B&B: Silverton Hotel (£20)

Cumulative distance: 321.3km (199.6mi)/ % Complete: 18.3%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 18 (click!)

Yet more treachery on the part of perfidious Albion!  There were many signs on the way into Tiverton suggesting that it is the capital of Mid-Devon, when the truth is that it is right on the edge of Somerset!  Everyone conspires! I saw industrial parks named for Mid-Devon, even mooring berths on the Grand Western Canal. The local council calls itself the Mid-Devon County Council. No wonder the funny foreigners are confused. Here they are, looking forward to more Devonian Cream Teas, in the knowledge that they are happily still in the centre of the county, when suddenly a broad Somerset accent informs them that they are in Somerset and tea’s off dear, cream or otherwise. “Here there be farms!”

Talking of farms, I was mightily pleased to find one this morning, with the help of Veronica, weeks ago. My route forced me to walk some distance up the murderous A396 towards Tiverton. This particular road is travelled only by homicidal maniacs and I had no idea there were so many of them. There was no margin at all on the edge of the road, no escape hatches, just vertical walls, blind bends and very fast traffic. I was waving my maps and hands frantically and watching as the drivers left it to the last minute to swerve out of my way, with an evil chuckle and a blast of exhaust.

And then I found a suspension footbridge over the Exe River (its name a little too symbolic for me!) onto a farm. Veronica had used Google “Street View” to uncover it for me weeks beforehand as I had tried to plan this leg of the journey, because I was worried about the “A” road! And there it was, right in front of me, rickety, narrow, covered in spider-webs, swinging wildly in the breeze, but so much less dangerous than the road!  I made a successful crossing and was just relaxing in the field opposite when I heard the sound of someone running right behind me. I turned to greet him and saw a cow running full tilt straight at me, just a few yards away. I nearly died! But my obvious fright communicated itself to the cow, who dug in her front hoofs and skidded to a halt. Clearly I was not the farmer. We parted warily a little embarrassed at our mutual over-reaction. My heart-rate was restored to normal half an hour later when I reached Bickleigh Castle!

I was sufficiently unhinged by the events of the day, that when I got into my B&B this evening, I decided to research the people of Devon in “Devon Life” to find out whether homicidal mania runs in the genes.  I discovered there that indeed sinister souls pervade the paths I have been treading. Some days ago just before my accident, I spied on my OS map a tor named “Gibbet Hill” near the village of Mary Tavy and resolved to uncover its mystery.  My research has revealed that this is indeed where a certain Lady Mary Howard met her end.

Reputedly, Lady Mary lived in the early 17th Century at Fitzford House near Tavistock and survived four husbands by murdering them. She is said to have been cruel to her daughters and hated by the community. In mitigation, it has also been claimed that Lady Howard’s ill-treatment at the hands of her sadistic father deprived her of maternal feelings.  She was burned as a witch at Gibbet Hill and her ghost was sentenced to bring all the grass from Okehampton Castle to Tavistock, one blade at a time. Thus she rides a coach of bones each midnight. It is pulled by headless horses and driven by a headless coachman.  A black hound runs beside her and carries a blade of grass in its mouth.

Clearly, it was she who tripped me up near the entrance to Okehampton Castle. And her black dog came to visit me yesterday to eat my lunch, which obviously she had promised!  But what made that cow try to attack me this morning? Perhaps she too was haunted by a spirit?

The ruins of Tavistock Abbey are said indeed to be haunted by the spirit of Elfrida, the beautiful daughter of Ordgar, Earl of Devon. Long before he had seen her, King Edgar who ruled from 959 to 975, heard rumours of her great beauty and sent his young friend Earl Ethelwold to see whether the rumours were true. They were, but Ethelwold was so taken by her charms that he could not bear the thought that any other man but himself should marry her. He told the King that the rumours of her beauty were much exaggerated, but it would be politically advisable for him (Ethelwold) to marry her. King Edgar agreed and Ethelwold lived happily with Elfrida until the King announced he would visit them. Ethelwold was appalled and told his wife the truth, begging her to make herself look as plain as possible for the King. Of course, she did the opposite and the King was enchanted with her. The next day, Ethelwold took the King hunting, but a cast from King Edgar’s spear must have been poorly aimed, for it fatally struck not the boar, but Ethelwold.

The lovely widow married King Edgar. Perhaps from remorse, Elfrida’s spirit can find no rest. Was that spirit in the cow? Perhaps she thought I was Ethelwold, who, frankly, seems to have gotten off rather lightly in the legend, not to mention the King! In these more enlightened times, I suspect Elfrida would have divorced Ethelwold, married the King this Friday, and slapped a super-injunction on the press….

That said, Ethelwold wouldn’t have had a much better time of it if he had offered himself up to the law in Lydford, just up the road from Tavistock. I saw this inscription in the Highwayman Pub:

I oft have heard of Lydford Law
Where in the morn they hang and draw
And sit in judgement after.

The famous "Veronica" suspension bridge that saved me from annihilation on the A396

Bickleigh Castle

Beautiful Bickleigh Bridge

In the woods beside the river on the Exe Valley Way

Holiday fun, 2012 style!

The Grand Western Canal and Towpath

A young family

Peaceful waters

The conspiracy continues! This is less than 5 miles from Somerset!

This fellow wasn't giving way! We agreed to differ. He stood his ground, I went past and we got on with our lives!