There’s a plot hook for us in this little piece of Dartmoor folklore. Peasants and monks play capture the flag with Luke Skywalker’s corpse. As a note a “partisan” here is a polearm from after the game period. Thanks to Phil Schemp and his Librivox production team for this reading.
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Fox Tor has always been connected by tradition with the death of John Childe of Plymstock, or as he is generally called ” Childe the Hunter , a gentleman of considerable possessions ; who , while enjoying his favourite pastime , during an inclement season , was benighted , lost his way , and perished through cold near Fox Tor . He had taken the precaution of killing his horse , and for the sake of warmth had crept into its bowels , leaving a paper denoting that whoever buried his body should have his lands at Plymstock : –
” The fyrst that fyndes , and brings me to my grave, The lands of Plymstock they shal have .
“Having no children , he had previously declared his intention of bestowing his lands on the Church wherein he should be buried. This coming to the knowledge of the Monks at Tavistock, they eagerly seized the body and were conveying it to that place, when learning that some of the people of Plymstock were waiting at a ford to intercept them and seize the prey, they took another route , and ordering a bridge to be built out of the usual track , succeeded in their object and obtained possession of the lands . The bridge so built was named , from that circumstance , ” Guile Bridge . ” A tomb of hewn granite , with an octagonal base three feet high , and a cross fixed to it , was erected to his memory in a plain a little below Fox Tor , and is still called ” Childe’s Cross . “
Fox Tor . The Death of Childe the Hunter
LARGE flakes of snow were falling fast
Before a chilling northern blast ,
That pierc’d the trav’ller through ,
When ‘ mid the wilds of drear Dartmoor ,
Near to the hill that’s call’d Fox Tor ,
A horseman came in view . ‘
Twould seem he knew not where to go ,
He look’d around , and rode so slow ,
Tho ‘ like a hunter dress’d In green ,
a sword was by his side ,
A sharp knife in his belt , beside
A horn upon his breast .
‘ Twas Childe of Plymstock , who that morn
His home had left , at early dawn ,
To chase the fallow deer ;
Throughout the day , with hound and horn ,
Till overtaken by this storm ,
He came benighted here .
He’d lost his way , -all hope was gone
Of finding it , night coming on ,
He knew to try was vain :
Fatigue his horse had overcome ,
The cold intense , his hands so numb ,
He scarce could hold the rein .
Dismounting , he the girths did slack ,
And took the saddle off the back
Of his now failing steed ;
Then , something on a paper wrote ,
And quick across his horse’s throat
He drew his knife with speed .
And while its life – blood ebb’d away ,
Embowell’d it , as there it lay ,
And crept himself in there ,
In hopes the carcase of his steed
Would save him in his hour of need
From the inclement air .
Thus each precaution did he take ,
And strove to keep himself awake ,
Trusting all danger o’er ;
But numbness o’er him ‘ gan to creep ,
And gradually he sank to sleep ,
Alas ! -to wake no more .
Next day a shepherd came t’explore ,
And search about the snow – clad moor
For sheep that went astray
During the storm ; – and looking round ,
He came to that same spot of ground .
Where the dead hunter lay .
He found the carcase of the horse ,
And looking closer saw the corpse
Of its dead master there :
Seeing the paper near him lay ,
He took it , and without delay
To Tavistock did repair .
Vespers were o’er , and one by one ,
The Monks unto their cells were gone ,
For it was getting late ;
When lo ! an unexpected noise ,
The sleepy porter did arouse-
A knocking at the gate .
The porter hurried on his clothes ,
The abbey gate he did unclose ,
To let the stranger in ;
Who said , ” the Abbot I must see
Without delay , because that he
May hear the news I bring . “
Across the court the porter sped ,
And rous’d the Abbot from his bed ,
The peasant’s tale to hear ;
Who bade him usher in the man ,
And then go tell the Sacristan
To be in waiting near .
The peasant enter’d – bow’d his head
With rev’rence , as the Abbot said ,
” What is this news , my son , You bring ?
-tell me that I may know ,
Something important ‘ tis , I trow . “
The peasant thus began , –
” Searching this morn for sheep astray ,
That in the storm of yesterday
Had wandered on the moor :
Not finding them , I still kept on ,
Looking about , till nearly come
Close by to Fox’s Tor .
” Searching around upon the ground ,
Just at that spot , I stumbled on
The carcase of a horse : –
Its bowels out , and in their place
A dead man lay – I knew the face ‘
Twas Childe the hunter’s corpse .
” Close by his side this paper lay ,
Which I took up and brought away ,
Making the utmost speed ;
Thinking , perhaps , that it might be
Something that you might wish to see ,
At least , might wish to read . “
He placed it in the Abbot’s hand ,
Whose eyes , as quickly it was scann’d ,
Were beaming with delight ;
When having call’d the Sacristan ,
He told him to refresh the man ,
And lodge him for the night .
Then loudly rang the Abbot’s bell ,
Summoning the Monks from ev’ry cell ,
Some task to undertake :
Soon they assembled in the room ,
With folded hands , and eyes cast down ,
When thus the Abbot spake , –
” Children , ” he said , ” you all well know ,
This duty to the Church we owe ,
To ever keep in sight Her interest , -which if we can
Aid or promote by any plan ,
To do so will be right .
” I have just learnt , that on the moor ,
Frozen to death , close by Fox Tor ,
A body has been found :
‘ Tis Childe of Plymstock , -so they say ,
Who went out hunting yesterday ,
There lies upon the ground .
” Close by him was this paper laid ,
Now in my hand , where it is said ,
His Plymstock lands shall go
To those who , when his body’s found ,
Bring it to consecrated ground ,
A burial to bestow .
” This we must do , ” the Abbot said ,
” Go quickly , get a coffin made ,
To put the body in ;
Be ready by the break of day ,
The man will guide us on the way ,
Who did this paper bring . “
The Monks then with the utmost care
And skill , a coffin did prepare ,
And by the break of day ,
A litter too they did provide ,
Then with the peasant for their guide ,
For Fox Tor took their way.
Before they left , the Abbot said ,
” A bridge directly must be made
Below the usual ford
By which men now the river cross ,
That will enable us to pass
Unseen by those above . “
Meantime the news to Plymstock flew ,
But how it reach’d there no one knew ,
At least there’s none would say ;
Arming with partisan and sword ,
The townsmen hasten’d to the ford ,
To intercept the prey .
The wily Abbot plac’d a scout
That morning when they first set out ,
And bade him watch the ford ,
That should those come who might surprise ,
And try to rob them of their prize ,
To run and bring him word .
The Monks proceeded on their way
Across the moor , without delay ,
To where the corpse was found ;
Which having coffin’d with great care ,
They plac’d it on the litter there ,
And quickly left the ground .
Their homeward way was scarce begun ,
Before a messenger did come
In haste , to bring them word ,
And tell them , that the Plymstock men ,
All armed with sword and partisan ,
Were waiting at the ford .
Where they intended to remain ,
To seize the corpse , when there it came ,
And wrest it from their hands
By force of arms , which having done ,
To take it back to Plymstock town ,
And so secure the lands .
The Abbot smil’d and shook his head ,
“Thanks for your news , my son , ” he said ,
Then instant orders gave
To change their route , and turn aside
To that part of the river side
Where the new bridge was made .
Letting the Plymstock men remain ,
To watch the ford , – but watch in vain ,
The Monks their new route take ;
From fear of danger thus reliev’d
They cross’d the river unperceiv’d ,
And reach’d the Abbey safe .
Then burying Childe , they did fulfil
All the conditions of his will ,
And thus his lands obtain’d :
The bridge by which they cross’d the stream ,
And brought the body home unseen ,
Was henceforth ” Guile Bridge ” nam’d .
A granite cross they did erect ,
Close to the spot where cold in death
The hunter had been found ,
Which ” Childe’s Tomb , ” or ” Cross ” was nam’d ,
And ever since that time retain’d ,
Through all the country round .
Image source https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/16275 (CC02.0 Attribution required license)
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