Legends And Traditions Of Jamaica Inn Persist

Press, Volume CI, Issue 29800, 17 April 1962, Page 2

Legends And Traditions Of Jamaica Inn Persist

As they walked up the dark stairs of Jamaica Inn, on Bodmin Moor, Cornwall, two Christchurch visitors, Misses Patricia McAlister and Maureen Davis, almost expected to see a body dangling from a hook, reflected in the light of the candles they carried.

After reading Daphne du Manner’s wellknown novel, “Jamaica Inn,” the old hostelry seemed permeated with the atmosphere of the bad old smuggling days which the author created so vividly. The visitors felt as if the pages of history had been turned back to the early eighteenth century.

Although maintaining the true tradition of coaching days, the inn was a vastly different place from the time when Joss Merlin and his band of ship-wreckers had it as their headquarters. Misses Davis and McAlister said. In the preface of her novel. Miss du Maurier wrote: “Jamaica Inn stands today, hcspitable and kindly, a temperance house on the 20mile road between Bodmin and Launceston . . I have pictured it as it might have been 120 years ago." Existing place names figured in her adventure story, although the characters and events described were fictitious.

A tourist souvenir booklet, which Misses Davis and McAlister brought home with them, illustrates the modern Jamaica Inn, with its bars and lounges named after characters in the book. Several features have been retained from the old days Mary's Bar, called after Mary Yellan. the heroine of •‘Jamaica Inn." still has the high-backed wooden settles, the bottle-glass leaded windows and the log fire crackling in the granite fireplace

Even the hock, from which Mary thought she saw the dangling body, may be seen firmly embedded in one of the great beams, the booklet says. 111-fated Stranger According to a legend concerning this bar. a stranger once stood drinking a pot of ale that he was fated never to finish. Upon being summoned outside, he put his half-emtpy tankard on the bar and disappeared into the night. His body was found on the moor in the morning, but the identity of the murderer was never discovered. A previous landlord sometimes heard ghostly footsteps tramping along the passage to the bar. These are supposed to be the dead man's spirit returning to finish his drink. His ghost is also supposed to have been seen by several persons, sitting on the wall outside the inn. not speaking or moving. Brandy kegs are a relic of Joss's Bar. named after the landlord in “Jamaica Inn." Their small size made them ideal for quick handling on the vessels used in the smuggling trade. Several legends surround the Bodmin Moor on which

the inn stands. One concerns the Dazmarry Pool, a freshwater lake long associated with the spirit of the traditional Cornish demon, Tregeagle In particularly wild weather, his spirit can be heard wailing in penance for his misdeeds. Tregeagle was a wealthy and unscrupulous landlord and an unjust magistrate. His wife, child and sister died as a result of his diabolical cruelties. When he was dying. Tregeagle, in his terror, gave all his wealth to the brotherhood of a nearby monastery, that they might save his soul from damnation. After his death, a dispute arose over some of the land rotind Bodmin. in which Tregeagle had dealt dishonestly. The case went to court, and when the defendant asked permission to call a further witness, the dead man appeared in the box As a result of Tregeagle's evidence, the defendant won the case Afterwards. instead of disappearing, the spectre remained, the spirits of darkness waiting to take him on one hand, and the monks keeping them at bay. The churchmen were finally called in to deal with the spirit. They assigned him the task of emptying the Dozmarry Fool, which was supposed to be bottomless, using a limpet shell with a hole in the bottom. If Trgeagle should rest from his labours for one season the devil would take his soul. Legend has it that the devil, being anxious to secure such a fine specimen of black iniquity, tries everything in his power to drive Tregeagle from his work. His pack of headless hounds chase Tregeagle across the moor, great storms beat down upon him, and he can be heard shrieking his penance at the height of a storm.