Moreton Hampstead.

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places for the people returning from Exeter market. The origin of the village does not appear to have been reputable, if we may believe that it was founded by vagabonds who had escaped from the county gaol. The real etymology is, doubtless, as he remarks, the Saxon ham stede, the place of the house.*

There is nothing to detain us long at Moreton. The seventeenth-century almshouse, with a quaint arcade, is the only building, except the church, that will excite much attention. The latter, dedicated to St. Andrew, is a large perpendicular building, I at with no especial points of interest, save some tablets to the memory of French prisoners-of-war, several of whom lived here on parole. Then there is the old elm-tree immortalized in Blackmore's novel 'Christowel,' whose branches, trained into the form of a punchbowl, once supported a dancingplatform, while the fiddler plied his craft in a loftier perch. An old cross, of which little remains, is beneath. The field, called by the strange name of The Sentry, Moreton's recreation-ground, affords a pleasant glimpse of the Moor borders, while, in the opposite direction, we shall notice Mardon Down. Here was an immense cairn, now destroyed, which contained a fine kistvaen, in which was discovered a copper spear-head, a British glass bead, and a stone amulet, together with calcined bones. The hollow, representing the site of the mound, is now filled with water, and known, I believe, to the neighbourhood as Black Pool. The diameter of the tumulus appears to have been about a hundred feet.

A little to the south of this high ground rises the boss of Blackystone-though from this point it cannot be seen -and the crest of Hel Tor, the scene of the conflict between King Arthur and the devil, who hurled rocks at each other across the intervening valley. But a nearer

* Bray, vol. i., p. 10,

inspection of these interesting heights, as well as of Skat Tor, an eminence rising in steps behind the prettilysituated village of Bridford, would take us beyond our limits; for, although at a distant date these tors may have formed part of the Moor, they are now far removed from its borders; and so, leaving the 'kindest and most tranquil-minded little town of Moreton Hampstead,' we depart for Chagford,

CHAPTER X.

CHAGFORD, FINGLE AND ITS HILL FORTS, SPINSTERS' ROCK, SHUFFLE DOWN, METHERILL TO FERNWORTHY, AND THE GREY WETHERS.

Chagford-Sidney Godolphin-The Church-The Teign Gorge-The Logan Stone-Fingle Bridge-Cranbrook Castle-Wooston Castle-Prestonbury -Drewsteignton and the Druids-Rules for Bell-ringers-The Spinsters' Rock-Who were the 'Spinsters'?-Bradford Pool Chagford againThe Witch Hare-Holy Street Mill and Cross-The Puggie StoneTincombe Common Settlement-The Round Pound-Kestor-A Fine Rock Basin-Avenues on Shuffle Down-The Longstone-Other RelicsThornworthy Tor-Kistvaens-Antiquities at Metherill-Fernworthy Farm and Sacred Circle-North Teign Bridge-Sittaford Tor-Logan Stone-The Grey Wethers-A Practical Joke.

Of all the towns on Dartmoor's verge, none approach Chagford in picturesque situation. Deep in the valley, yet raised on its low hill above the river-mists, it nestles, having on the one hand the emerald meadows where Teign flows onward to the wooded gorge of Fingle; on the other Milldown, Nattadon, and more distant Kestor, the vanguard of the wild Moor, shielding it from the boisterous winds which sweep across the waste.

An anecdote illustrative of its beauty in summer and isolation in winter has found its way into almost every work in which the town figures. The traveller stops a native on a fine day in the former season, and, pointing towards the town, inquires its name. 'Chaggyford, and what d'ye think of it?' is the reply, given with a conscious pride. But if the same rustic be encountered on

a winter day, and a similar query put, he will reply, with a doleful shake of the head, Chaggyford, good Lord!'*

Notwithstanding modern improvements, Chagford is still an old-world town, and has more than one picturesque building yet standing. Amongst these we shall notice the Church House, now used as an infant-school, and the Three Crowns Hotel, in whose wide porch Sidney Godolphin was slain when, during the civil wars of the Stuart period, the King's troops attacked the town. The event is thus referred to in Clarendon's History of the Rebellion': 'In falling upon Chagford (a little town in the south of Devon) before day, the King lost Sidney Godolphin, a young gentleman of incomparable parts; who, being of a constitution and education more delicate, and unacquainted with contentions, upon his observation of the wickedness of those men in the House of Commons, of which he was a member, out of the pure indignation of his soul against them, and conscience to his country, had, with the first, engaged himself with that party in the West; and though he thought not fit to take command in a profession he had not willingly chosen, yet, as his advice was of great authority with all the commanders, being always one in the council of war, and whose notable abilities they had still use of in their civil transactions, so he exposed his person to all action, travel and hazard; and by too forward engaging himself in this last, received a mortal shot by a musket, a little above the knee, of which he died in the instant, leaving the misfor

* The countryman was probably not aware that his pronunciation of the name of the town was the one formerly in vogue. It is called Chageford in Domesday, and frequently spelt Chaggeford in ancient records. The word is probably derived from the Cornish schaf, a rapid. Vide Historical Sketch of the Parish of Chagford,' by G. W. Ormerod, F.G.S.

+ Vol. ii., part i., p. 185. Mr. G. W. Ormerod has since written to me as follows: The skirmish probably took place near what was then a ford and footbridge over the Teign, near the present Dog a Marsh Bridge, in a field near Whiddon Park, now called the Bloody Meadow. Balls are found there occasionally; but there is not any evidence of this or where Godolphin was killed.

Chagford Church.

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tune of his death upon a place, which could never otherwise have had a mention to the world.'

Of the many interesting and beautiful spots in the vicinity, we can only make passing mention. None will be allowed to remain long in the town without hearing of Holy Street Mill-the' grist mill' as it is commonly called -an old thatched watermill by the Teign, beloved by artists for generations; or having their attention called to Fingle Bridge and Gorge, with its guardian camps of Prestonbury and Cranbrook Castle, which, whether approached by road or river, presents scenery having few equals, not only in Devon, but in England.

The church dedicated to St. Michael is a fine building of the fifteenth century, with a square embattled tower and small pinnacles. It has a centre and two side aisles with cradle roofs, where may be noticed the strange ornament of three rabbits with ears joining, also appearing in the churches of Tavistock and Widecombe. Other bosses carved to represent a gurges or whirlpool are memorials of the Gorges family, who in the fifteenth century, says Mr. Ormerod, resided in the parish. As it is not our intention to give a detailed description of the churches in and around Dartmoor, we must refer our readers to works which give fuller accounts. That of Mr. Ormerod already cited contains a very full history and description of the edifice. The graveyard has some quaintly-inscribed tombs, particularly one to a man named Rogers, whose father, evidently desirous of commemorating himself as well as the deceased, concludes the epitaph with these words:

'William Rogers placed me here,
Ireland is his nation,

Longford once his dwelling-place,
The heavens his habitation.
When he is dead and in his grave

And all his bones are rotten,
Upon this stone you'll find his name
When others are forgotten.'