18 June 2016 - Exmoor House Caravan Club Site, Dulverton, Somerset

Today was set aside for exploration of the Exmoor National Park, the southern edge of which we are camped. The Park comprises 267 square miles of which two thirds lie in West Somerset and one third in North Devon, and has been a National Park for the last sixty years. About 7% is owned and managed by the National Park Authority, with the remainder owned by the National Trust, the Crown Estate and private landowners.

The gatehouse to Cleeve Abbey

According to one of our guide books, Exmoor is one of the most attractive National Parks in England and Wales, however we think it a lot tamer than Dartmoor; we prefer more wild landscapes than gentle. The wooded river valleys are absolutely beautiful, and the moors are lovely too, but, as Chris described them, “softer”. We would choose Dartmoor over Exmoor, although I would prefer to say that I love them both, and the New Forest, and what we saw of the Yorkshire Moors last year. I am greedy.

Today, with a rough itinerary planned, we set off north on the A396, turning east across the moor at Wheddon Cross and travelling about nine miles across the Brendon Hills, another ridge across the moor. Reaching Raleigh’s Cross, we turned north toward Bridgewater Bay, a steep descent from the heights of the moor down to the coast, then turned a little west for a short distance, happening upon an English Heritage sign for the Cleeve Abbey, soon found just off the A39.

We arrived just minutes before the opening time of 10 am and were the first to enter, after wandering up through a wonderful intact gatehouse, the old entrance to the medieval abbey. The River Washford between the car park and abbey had been canalised, and guided off into waterways for practical use. The gatehouse is one of the most complete in the country, originally built in the early 13^th century but remodelled twice since.

Cleeve Abbey was founded over 800 years ago and was a community of Cistercian monks, an outfit that seem to have been popping up all over this west country, although this lot were brought down from the north, more specifically, Lincolnshire. It is one of the best preserved abbeys in England.

The fact that the abbey was left fairly intact over the years, raises the question about the effect of the Dissolution. The reality was that this particular abbey, with an annual income of less than £200, was not on the Rich List, and was therefore spared the wrath of the destroyers. However in 1536, Cleeve Abbey was among the first houses to be closed, the church was destroyed but the rest of the structures were saved. Fortunately for the monks, and surprising to me, they were given an annual pension of 26s 8d, which is the same as about £450 today. In sharp contrast, the abbot was given a pension of £26 13s 4d, which is a generous £9,000 a year in today’s money. I say “surprising”, because one would have thought the Dissolution would have meant chucking out all the religious on their ears. (But I said that in an earlier posting, didn’t I?)

The buildings and lands were sold to a private owner, the first of whom was the Earl of Sussex. Wealthy tenants occupied the abbey over the years as several changes were made. In the 17^th century, the status of the tenants declined from gentry to yeoman farmer. A modest farmhouse range was built at the south-west corner and the rooms of the abbey and mansion were used as farm buildings.

It was thanks to George Luttrell, of Dunster Castle, who purchased the site in 1868, that the Cistercian remains were preserved. Within a few years, the abbey buildings and thirteen acres of surrounding land were removed from the farm tenancy and tickets were sold to view it. In 1876, he revealed the tiles pavement of the 13^th century refectory, now clearly visible.

The Crown acquired Cleeve Abbey in 1950 and ever since, it has been managed by the State.

The lovely gardens of Dunster Castle

There was an interesting little titbit of information that tied up later in the day with other references, not least the appearance of the Luttrell family; there are eight different species of bat resident at Cleeve Abbey, as well as grass snakes, great crested newts and otters in the surrounding landscape.

Back on the A39 and just a little to the west, we came upon signs to the Dunster Castle, but it was the vision of the fairytale castle high on the tor that drew us in, a site not unlike the castle at Arundel on the south coast. But unlike Arundel Castle, this one belongs to the National Trust and has done since 1976.There has been a castle here for over a thousand years, starting as a Saxon stronghold and developing into a comfortable country house. The 13^th century gateway is the oldest surviving part of the castle. The current building was remodelled by Anthony Salvin between 1868 and 1878 for the Lutrell family, who lived here for six hundred years. The architect was paid £20,000 for his part in the renovations, equivalent to over £2 million in today’s money.

We took the hour long attic tour after having spent an hour mooching about the castle, and from high up in the towers, we had splendid views of Convgar Tower, the folly built in 1775 which was to have been one of four structures pretending to be full fortification. The Welsh coast can be clearly seen from these same windows, although today the visibility was poor, and I would not swear that the fuzzy distant land was in fact Wales. 

Dunstar Castle above the village of Dunster

The Luttrell family lost the property for a very short time when Alexander Luttrell died and his son Geoffrey was left with massive tax debt. He was forced to sell it in 1944, but was able to stay on as tenants, then, in 1954, when he was in a better financial situation, able to buy it back, although with less land. Then in 1976, his son, Colonial Sir Walter Luttrell gave the property to the National Trust.

After the tour with the ex-military man, we returned to the car to retrieve our lunch, then we sat above the polo paddock and watched the annual archery tournament being played out below us. We returned again to the house to see areas we had missed, walked up through the lovely gardens which surround the castle, then down into the wonderfully preserved medieval village of Dunster. Apart from the charming old houses and shops, inns and cafes, we were also delighted to find the covered very Old Yarn Market, built in 1609 by George Luttrell of the aforesaid castle, repaired in 1647, to shelter the sellers of broadcloth and homespuns.  

It was almost 3 pm and we had been distracted from our itinarary all day, having not yet reached our planned destinations. We continued along the same A39 to Minehead, a vibrant seaside town this Saturday afternoon, where we parked on the shore and spent twenty minutes or so sorting topups of our cellphones, an unbelievably frustrating exercise. We popped out long enough to  see that the beach is sandy and as such, quite attractive.

The Old Yarn Market

We continued on in the same direction, on through Porlock, then immediately after, up the incredibly steep and windy road from the seashore. At the base of this road there is a notice suggesting that motorcylists and those towing caravans should choose to use an alternative more gentle route, a toll road. Who the toll collector is and where the funds go, we have yet to establish, but I would suggest the notice should be well heeded.

We turned south and across the moor soon after that ascent, and travelled down one of those roads shown as a  fat white route, as far as Exford, then onto the B3223 across the Winsford Hill, where we noted a turn off to the Tarr Stepps. This had been on our agenda, although by this stage of the day, I had given up on this for the day.

The beach at Minehead

The Tarr Steps are a seventeen span “clapper” bridge crossing the River Barle, upstream from Dulverton, the longest of its kind in Britain. It marks an ancient fording point across the river, and even today as we walked down to the river, we believe we heard a tractor cross the ford.

In December 2012 exceptionally heavy rains caused the Barle to rise well above its usual height and the powerful flow of the floodwater washed away any of the huge stone slabs that form the bridge. This had happened before, notably in the great flood of 1952. (Yesterday we had noted the 1952 flood mark in Dulverton, high above the first floor level of many houses, shops and pubs.) All the stones are now recorded and by following carefully drawn plans, engineers were able to rebuild the bridge during February 2013.

The Tarr Steps

The brief detour to the Steps were another cause for annoyance, vehicles are directed to a car park high on the hill, a roomy area, but where one must pay £3 for the privilege of parking there for either twenty minutes or all day. For us who wanted only to pop down for a quick look, it was cause for a giant moan, especially when we arrived down at the river and found ample space where we might have parked for the short while. We crossed the river on the bridge and learned that the circuit walk was “out of order”; this would have been another annoyance had we paid to take the walk.

It was 5.30 pm by the time we returned to camp, dinner was a little late, but we had had an excellent day, albeit all off schedule.