Brentor 2019-04-05T16:47:53+00:00

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Introduction Brentor

The “Brent” in Brentor derives from “brant”, the Anglo-Saxon word for steep, or brennan which means to burn, perhaps referring to the beacon lit on the heights.
Brent Tor is not a tor in the Dartmoor granite sense, as it is formed from the cooled lava of an undersea volcano which erupted here 350 million years ago.
The rampart around the village is at the base of the hill rather than round the summit, as in most hill forts, and isn’t complete, suggesting it served as a stock enclosure rather than a defence.
Although the village is flanked by a wide and deep valley, the “River Burn” at the bottom is actually a small stream, narrow enough to jump over.
Therefore, Brentor is a tor that is not a tor, a hillfort that is not a fort and a river that is actually just a stream. We trust it will not disappoint in other respects.

W.G. Hoskins on Brentor

The Stories of Brentor


“Brentor Legends”?

Listen to "Brentor Legends" by Jim Causley

Lizzie Walters, Spring 1888

End cottage, Burn lane, Brentor, 5th April 1888

Dear Master Cowling

Our teacher, Mrs Gerry, has told me I must a write a letter to a local person to express my Christian gratitude for their diligence for our community. I was coming into the school room, late, past the mirror she has hung up. There is a sign above it, asking “Am I clean?”, and we are supposed to tidy ourselves before entering her presence…..

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John Cowling, Spring 1888

Stonemason’s Yard, Brentor, 15th April 1888

Dear Young Lizzie

My compliments on your impressive command of English. I am but a lowly stonemason but imagine you might miss a full week of school with no loss of progress in your academic career.

 

To answer your question, I have never seen a ghost. The only agonized moans we hear are from the smithies yard when Sam Rice has taken too many in the pub with your dad. They say the Lady of the Lamp, Florence Nightingale herself, wants tee-total reading rooms for working men but it’ll never take on round here. We work too hard to forego our beer…..

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“Burn Lane”?

Listen to "Burn Lane" by Jim Causley

Lizzie Walters, Summer 1888

End cottage, Burn lane, Brentor, 3rd May 1888

Dear John,

Your letter worked a treat. I did two full weeks in Burnville’s field and Jelly-face Gerry weren’t too sour about it. Especially when I said we needed to buy a bonnet for the baby…..

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John Cowling, Summer 1888

Stonemason’s Yard, Brentor, 5th May 1888

How would you like a bedtime story? This legend has been passed down through the Cowling family, father to son from time out of mind. If I ever have any boys I should like them to know it. With a bit of luck it will scare Jimmy rigid, and make him desist from his monopolisation of blankets….

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Watch ‘The Devil & St Michael’

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“Well Provided For”?

Listen to "Well Provided For" by Jim Causley

Lizzie Walters, Spring 1909

Moor View, Brentor, 28th March 1909

Dear John Cowling,

How goes it at the stonemason’s yard? Your old friend Lizzie here.
So Shackleton has made it to the magnetic South Pole. I don’t know what folk like him want with icebergs and snow. The Dartmoor drafts whistling down the nave of St Michael’s are quite enough to contend with, in the thin bodice and corset I must wear now I’m respectable. I quite miss my scratchy school pinafore.

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John Cowling, Spring 1909

Stonemason’s Yard, Mary Tavy, 15th April 1909

Young Lizzie,

Your words fall on deaf ears! Canada calls! I hear they are sieving gold nuggets as big as your fist. I’ve told my Harry he’s to be the man of the house in my absence. Mellony says he will miss his father but my son and I have the rest of our lives to sit by the fire, playing draughts. He’ll be busy enough learning the stone mason’s trade.

Last week they started work on the mother of all ocean going vessels. When finished it will have 2000 portholes and be the largest moving object ever made by man. They are calling it the Titanic and I nearly have enough for my berth. Fancy a lad who learnt his living in the smoke and dust of Burn Lane travelling with the gentry on the biggest, safest ship ever built. Nothing can stop me now.

Your friend

John Cowling

John Cowling, Fall 1911

St Thomas, Elgin West, Ontario, Canada, 15th October 1911

Young Lizzie,

Greetings from Canada! Such a shame the Titanic was not ready in time for our passage but you can’t win ‘em all.
I have shot my first Moose. This time of year those great beasts are out looking for a mate and there’s one round every corner in St. Thomas, Ontario. Ernest jumped out of his skin when a seven-footer (nine footer if you include the antlers) stepped out from the trees with an amorous glint in his eye. The ill-fated fellow made a superb stew and I intend his stuffed head for young Harry’s wall….

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Lizzie Walters, Autumn 1911

Moor View, Brentor, 5th November 1911

Dear John,

Little Francis Walter is well, and enjoyed your letter. His lips are sealed about the Rye Whiskey incident, mostly because he can’t talk yet. As I write this, effigies of Guy Fawkes are burning out on the tor. Are similar activities afoot in the Common Wealth? If so, I imagine them against a backdrop of snow….

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Western Union Telegram,

Communication from Mr John Cowling esq May 2nd 1912.to Mrs Lizzie Holwill, Brentor Post office, Brentor, Devon, England

Dear Lizzie

I have today arrived in New York and my feet are firmly planted on dry land STOP.
I know our Brentor friends will want to hear we have safely crossed the Atlantic STOP.
One thousand five hundred souls lost on the Titanic STOP.
How I cursed Ernest’s rheumatism which delayed our passage on that great ship STOP. It seems it saved our lives STOP.
This is a good auger of fortune to come STOP.
I’ll return with more than a moose head and moth-eaten parrot this time STOP. My cabin will brim with bullion STOP.
Check Harry is not over-feeding Florence STOP. For all that bird takes the moral high ground, she is over fond of peanuts STOP. Congratulations on the birth of little Violet Moira STOP.
Your intrepid friend, John Cowling STOP.


“Lads in their Hundreds”?

Listen to "Lads in their Hundreds" by Jim Causley

Lizzie Walters, Autumn 1914

Moor View, Brentor, 5th November 1914

Dear John,

I hope yourself and Chris Postlethwaite are having better luck with the gold this time around. Is it snowing yet in Ontario?
Do the Canadian papers report this new war in Europe? We’re all mobilising in England and it is effigies of the Kaiser they burn on the tor now….

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Lizzie Walters, Summer 1916

Moor View, Brentor, 30th July 1916

Dear John,

Thank Mellony for her kind card. Everyone has been so kind. So, a widow’s weeds for me now. At least I’ll get out of those damned corsets and be as frumpy as I choose. The journey back from Kent has been so tiring but I am so lucky, really, that Walter passed over, here, on home turf….

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John Cowling, Autumn 1918

Stonemason’s Yard, Mary Tavy, 6th October 1918

To my old friend Lizzie,

This evening I watched a murmuration of starlings over the tor. The spindle trees are dropping their leaves. I am marking my third autumn at home. It’s hard not to think of Ontario this time of year, and the thrilling cold snap which presages snow.
Of course, the last two years, when the autumn rains have come, Mellony and I have thought of Harry, wondering how he fares in the mud of the trenches. They say this war is finally nearing an end thank God, as soon as next month perhaps, but not soon enough for our son…..

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“Brentor Village Shop”?

Listen to "Brentor Village Shop" by Jim Causley

Lizzie Walters, Winter 1963

Moor View, Brentor, 30th January 1963

Dear Frank Cowling,

Please bear with an old friend of your father’s, writing this letter, but I’ve had little else to do these last days of being snowed in. What a blizzard! What howling winds! We thought we’d be blown to smithereens when Kruschchev put his missiles in Cuba this autumn but it feels like Armageddon came after all….

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Western Union Telegram,

Communication from Mr John Cowling esq May 2nd 1912.to Mrs Lizzie Holwill, Brentor Post office, Brentor, Devon, England

Dear Lizzie

I have today arrived in New York and my feet are firmly planted on dry land STOP.
I know our Brentor friends will want to hear we have safely crossed the Atlantic STOP.
One thousand five hundred souls lost on the Titanic STOP.
How I cursed Ernest’s rheumatism which delayed our passage on that great ship STOP. It seems it saved our lives STOP.
This is a good auger of fortune to come STOP.
I’ll return with more than a moose head and moth-eaten parrot this time STOP. My cabin will brim with bullion STOP.
Check Harry is not over-feeding Florence STOP. For all that bird takes the moral high ground, she is over fond of peanuts STOP. Congratulations on the birth of little Violet Moira STOP.
Your intrepid friend, John Cowling STOP.


“Devil and the Farmer”?

Listen to "Devil and the Farmer" by Jim Causley