Storyteller: Finding folklore in Broadhempston

Last week, I told you all about an adventure I had recently, making recordings for my friend David Hammond's radio show on Riviera FM.

We visited Teignmouth and Dawlish on the trail of spooky stories.

I ended that article on a bit of a cliff-hanger, mentioning that our final destination was the tiny village of Broadhempston, with the promise of sharing what had drawn me there...

For a small inhabited area, it has certainly gained a reputation for having more than its fair share of antiquities, with interesting tales to tell.

The first thing I wanted to revisit was the cross, cunningly incorporated into the old wooden panelling at the back of one of the local pubs, The Monks Retreat.

I first went there years ago, as my wife’s ex-mother-in-law had relatives in the area, and we used to take her to meet them there as a treat.

I was most intrigued by the obvious cross-shaped bit of panelling on one of the back walls, and wondered what purpose it served. A bit of research revealed that it dated back to Henry VIII’s time, after the dissolution of the monasteries, when the local Catholic population still wanted a mass said for them.

They would encourage monks, that were hiding out in the area trying to avoid persecution, to come and visit them in secret, using a tunnel allegedly built linking the pub to the nearby church. The cross was added into the woodwork, acting as a crude altar piece while the monks conducted a service.

I was keen to see it again but there was a sign on the door saying they were closed Mondays! As luck would have it, the owners were about to take their dogs for a walk, and, seeing our approach, opened the door to see what we wanted.

When I explained, I would like to get a picture of their cross, they were more than happy to oblige, and chat about it. Our explorations seem to be full of lucky breaks like that!

Attached to the Monks Retreat is what used to be the old village school house, forming an archway over the entrance to the graveyard, and church, that lies behind the pub. I recall reading an article about Broadhempston school house many years ago, suggesting the original structure wasn’t too sturdy, especially as it was suspended in mid air!

One day, it transpired that it had too many pupils in attendance, causing it to collapse. I’m not sure if the write-up mentioned fatalities or injuries but the classroom was rebuilt, and it certainly looks a lot safer these days.

Regular readers will know that I’ve recently discovered an unusual feature in our old parish churches, known as the Devil’s Door. These doors have long been sealed up, originally at the decree of Elizabeth I, England’s first Protestant Queen, who insisted there was no place for such superstitious nonsense in her church.

Early Christians believed that the spirit of the Devil himself was exorcised during the ritual of baptism, and that he exited through the north door, which was opened for him to use on baptismal days, but kept securely locked on all other days, for fear he might re-enter.

This practice was condoned by Catholics, who liked to have all doors open for their processionals, that took place during religious festivals throughout the church year. Elizabeth ordered a total ban on this Papal frippery, having all such doors bricked up, putting an end to this practice.

During the course of my research, I’ve found it’s mainly the north doors that are sealed up, as that is the direction from which Pagans would enter a church, similar to their stone circles, and when this entrance was closed to them, they, along with the Devil, were no longer welcome, as they refused to convert to Christianity.

When you Google Devil’s Door, the first image you get on Wikipedia is the example at Broadhempston, still showing a wooden door, not the usual bricked-up entrance. You can imagine why I was keen to seek this one out, and find what entitles it to be called a Devil’s Door.

Once inside the church, it became obvious that it wasn’t blocked inside either, actually leading into what is now the vestry, which is partitioned off from the rest of the north aisle.

In front of this partition stands a lectern, proudly displaying a floor plan showing the various stages of the building’s construction over the years, along with some particular points of interest, including the Devil’s Door. Other notations on the plan, confirm the door being left open, during baptism, to let the Devil out.

If this is a true example, it explains its inclusion on Wikipedia but it doesn’t explain how or why it escaped the purge by Elizabeth I.

Has this got something to do with the Catholics gathering in the Monks Retreat? Was the community staunch enough to protect their faith, and their traditions, at whatever the cost?

There is a more intriguing piece of notation on the plan, describing the door as being small and between a split buttress. The one marked on the plan, and shown on Wikipedia, doesn’t fit this description but there is a second door, further along the north wall, towards the altar, that does.

This isn’t blocked up either, so could still be used for its intended purpose. Has there been a deliberate attempt to keep its identity a secret?

I feel more research is needed.

One final line on the floor plan suggests there are similar doors to be found on the churches in the neighbouring villages of Littlehempston and Ipplepen... so guess where we are going on our next expedition?