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Holy Wells in Cornwall
So many books have been written about holy wells throughout the ages that it is very hard to write about them without merely repeating what has been written before, instead I am seeking to bring together all the information that previous researchers have published with a little bit that they haven’t. There are many more holy wells than those included in these pages but it is my intention for now to incorporate only those that I have visited personally.
2. St. Nuns/St. Ninnie’s/Piskies well
4. St. Keynes
5. Madron
6. Sancreed
11. St Clether
13. Holy Wells - healing waters
14. Dorn's artwork
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St. Clether Holy Well CornwallMap ref: SX203 847
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Behind the church a long footpath leads to a remote gated enclosure containing
the holy well and the chapel, the largest in
The chapel was rebuilt in the 15th century but fell into disrepair once more in the 1800’s. The Rev. S. Baring-Gould arranged Restoration in 1895 and work was completed and the chapel re-dedicated in September 1900. The foundations are known to be Celtic and the masonry has been dated to the mid 15th century. The holy well itself is built from granite and during the restoration of the well and chapel an inscribed tablet was inserted beneath the capstones recording when and by whom the well was restored, finishing in Cornish “Dew re bo gordhyys” (may god be praised).
The water of the spring originates in the bank behind the holy well and then run through a granite drain into the chapel, behind the alter from north to south collecting in the lower well on the other side (see picture above right).
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It was believed that water in the lower well would possess greater powers after passing over the holy relics inside the chapel and is still believed to be particularly good for healing. The altar inside the chapel is over a thousand years old. (See right) St. Clether was descended from Brychan of Brecknock or one of his clan and travelled from Wales to the Inney valley, Cornwall. |
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He was variously called, Cleer, Clydog, Scledog, Citanus and Cleodius his day is commemorated on Nov 3rd,although November 4th, August 19th and Oct 23rd are also given.
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Alsia well Cornwall West Penwith Ordnance survey Landranger map 203 Map ref: SW 393251 |
A footpath leads across 2 fields to this
beautiful little spring, tucked away in the corner of the field. It was once
used for wishing, divining and curing children. Rags were tied to the
overhanging hawthorn trees.
This well, and the nearby mill, play a part in a story collected by Robert Hunt
for his book, 'popular romances of the west of England; or, The Drolls,
Traditions and superstitions of old Cornwall',
The spectre Bridegroom
Long, long ago a farmer named Lenine lived in Boscean. He had but one son,
Frank Lenine, who was indulged into waywardness by both his parents. In addition
to the farm servants, there was one, a young girl, Nancy Trenoweth, who
especially assisted Mrs. Lenine in all the various duties of a small farmhouse.
Nancy Trenoweth was very pretty, and although perfectly uneducated, in the sense
in which we now employ the term education, she possessed many native graces, and
she acquired much knowledge, really useful to one whose aspirations would
probably never rise higher than to be mistress of a farm of a few acres.
Although it was evident to the entire parish that Frank Lenine and Nancy were
seriously devoted to each other, the young man's parents were blind to it, and
were taken by surprise when one day Frank asked his father and mother to consent
to his marrying Nancy. The old man thought it would be degradation for a Lenine
to marry a Trenoweth, and in the most unreasoning manner, he resolved it should
never be.
The first act was to send Nancy home to Alsia
Mill, where her parents resided; the next was an imperious command to his son
never again to see the girl. The commands of the old are generally powerless
upon the young where the affairs of the heart are concerned. So were they upon
Frank, he who was rarely seen of an evening beyond the garden of his fathers
cottage, was now as constantly absent from his home.
Rarely an evening passed that did not find Nancy and Frank together in some
retired nook. The Holy Well was a favourite meeting place, and here the most
solemn vows were made. Locks of hair were exchanged; a wedding ring, taken from
the finger of a corpse, was broken, when they vowed that they would be united
either dead or alive; and they even climbed at night the granite pile at Treryn,
and swore by the Logan Rock the same strong vow.
Time passed onward thus unhappily, and, as the result of the endeavours to
quench out the passion by force, it grew stronger under the repressing power,
and like imprisoned steam, eventually burst through all restraint. Nance's
parents discovered at length that moonlight meetings between two untrained,
impulsive youths, had a natural result, and they were now doubly earnest in
their endeavours to compel Frank to marry their daughter.
The elder Lenine could not be brought to consent to this, and he firmly resolved
to remove his son entirely from what he considered the hateful influences of the
Trenoweths. He resolved to send him away to sea, hoping thus th wean him from
this love madness. Frank, poor fellow, with the best intentions, was not capable
of any sustained effort, and consequently he at length succumbed to his father;
and to escape his persecution, he entered a ship bound for India, and bade adieu
to his native land.
Frank could not write, and this happened in days when letters could be forwarded
only with extreme difficulty, consequently Nancy never heard from her lover.
A baby had been born into a troublesome world, and the infant became a real
solace to the young mother. Young Nancy lived for her child, and on the memory
of its father. She felt that no distance could separate their souls, that no
time could be long enough to destroy the bond between them.
The winter was coming on, and nearly three years had passed away since Frank
Lenine left his country. It was Allhallows Eve, and two of Nancy's companions
persuaded her-no difficult task-to go with them and sow hemp seed.
At midnight the three maidens stole out unperceived into Kimyall town place to
perform their incantation. Nancy was the first to sow, the others being less
bold than she. Boldly she advanced saying as she scattered the seed:
Hemp seed I sown thee,
Hemp seed grow thee;
And he who will my true love be,
Come after me
And shaw thee.
This was repeated three times, when looking back over her left shoulder, she saw
Lenine; but he looked so angry that she shrieked with fear, and broke the spell.
One of the other girls however, resolved now to make trial of the spell, and the
result of her labours was the vision of a white coffin. Fear now fell on all,
and they went home sorrowful, to spend each a sleepless night.
November came with its storms, and during one terrific night a large vessel was
thrown upon the rocks in Bernowhall cliff, and, beaten by7 the impetuous waves,
she was soon in pieces. Amongst the bodies of the crew washed ashore, nearly all
of whom perished, was Frank Lenine. He was not dead when found, but the only
words he lived to speak were begging the people to send for Nancy Trenoweth,
that the might make her his wife before he died. Rapidly sinking, Frank was
borne by his friends on a litter to Boscean, but he died as the reached the town
pace. His parents, overwhelmed in their own sorrows, thought nothing of Nancy,
and without her knowing that Lenine had returned, the poor fellow was laid in
his last bed, in Burian churchyard.
On the night of the funeral, Nancy went, as was her custom, to lock the door of the house, and as was her custom too, she looked out into the night. At this instant a horseman rode up in hot haste, called her by name, and hailed her in a voice that made her blood boil. The voice was the voice of Lenine. She could never forget that; and the horse she now saw was her sweetheart's favourite colt, on which he had often ridden at night to Alsia. The rider was imperfectly seen; but he looked very sorrowful, and deadly pale, still Nancy knew him to be Frank Lenine. He told her that he had just arrived home, and that the first moment he was at liberty he had taken horse to fetch his loved one, and to make her his bride. Nancy's excitement was so great that she was easily persuaded to spring on the horse behind him, that they might reach his home before the morning. When she took Lenine's hand a cold shiver passed through her, and as she grasped his waist to secure herself in her seat, her arm became as stiff as ice. She lost all power of speech, and suffered deep fear, yet she knew not why.
The moon had arisen, and now burst out in a full flood of light, through the heavy clouds, which had obscured it. The horse pursued its journey with great rapidity, and whenever in weariness it slackened its speed, the peculiar voice of the rider aroused its drooping energies. Beyond this no word was spoken since Nancy had mounted behind her lover. They now came to Trove bottom, where there was no bridge at that time; they dashed into the river. The moon shone full in their faces. Nancy looked into the stream, and saw that the rider was in a shroud and other grave clothes. She now knew that she was being carried away by a spirit, yet she had no power to save herself; indeed, the inclination to do so did not exist. On went the horse at a furious pace, until they came to the blacksmiths shop near Burian church-town, when she knew by the light from the forge fire thrown across the road that the smith was still at his labours.
She now recovered her speech. "save me! Save me! Save me! She cried with all her
might. The smith sprang from the door of the smithy, with a red-hot iron in his
hand, and as the horse rushed by, caught the woman's dress and pulled her to the
ground. The spirit however also seized Nancy's dress in one hand, and his grasp
was like that of a vice. The horse passed like the wind, and Nancy and the smith
were pulled down as far as the old almshouses, near the churchyard. Here the
horse for a moment stopped. The smith seized that moment, and with his hot iron
burned off the dress from the rider's hand, thus saving Nancy, more dead than
alive; while the rider passed over the wall of the churchyard, and vanished on
the grave n whish Lenine had been laid but a few hours before. The smith took
Nancy into his shop, and he soon aroused some of his neighbours, who took the
poor girl back to Alsia. Her parents laid her on her bed. She spoke no word, but
to ask for her child, to request her mother to giver up her child to Lenine's
parents, and her desire to be buried in his grave. Before the morning light fell
on the world, Nancy had breathed her last breath.
A horse was seen that night to pass through the church town like a ball from a
musket, and in the morning Lenine's colt was found dead in Berowhall cliff,
covered with foam, its eyes forced from its head, and its swollen tongue hanging
out of its mouth. On Lenine's grave was found the piece of Nancy's dress, which
was left in the spirits hand when the smith burnt her from his grasp.
It is said that one or two of the sailors who survived the wreck related after
the funeral, how, on the 30th October, at night, Lenine was like one mad; they
could scarcely keep him I the ship. He seemed more asleep than awake, and, after
great excitement, he fell as if dead upon the deck, and lay so for hours. When
he came to himself, he told them that he had been taken to the village of
Kimyall, and that if he ever married the woman who had cast the spell, he would
make her suffer the longest day she had to live for drawing his soul out of his
body.
Poor Nancy was buried in Lenine's grave, and her companion in sowing hemp seed, who saw the white coffin, slept beside her within the year.
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St. Nuns/St. Ninnie’s/Piskies well Cornwall Pelynt Map ref: SX 224564 A few metres inside the gate of Hobb Park, some stone steps lead down a steep slope to the well. Apparently it once had an oak tree growing upon its roof that caused great damage, fortunately the family whose land it was on restored it to the original plan. Inside the well house there is a round stone basin into which the water flows. A farmer once tried to remove the stone for use in his pigsty and it took enormous effort for his Oxen to move it. |
When they finally got it moving up the hill it broke away from the chains they were using and rolled back again to the well (another version tells us that he tried 3 times to move it and 3 times it returned). The oxen fell dead and the farmer was struck lame and dumb, and failed to prosper from then on. Pins and other offerings were left in and around the basin, indeed still are, for the piskies. In fact, it has been suggested, if you should fail to leave tribute to these wee folk you will be followed home by the piskies in the shape of small moths.
The 5th Century Saint Non was the daughter of Lord Cynyr Ceinfarfog of Caer Goch (though it has also been said that she was the daughter of an Earl of Cornwall). She was a nun at Ty Gwyn near Whitesands bay in Wales. She was seduced, or raped, by Prince Sandde of Ceredigion. Unmarried and pregnant St. Non went into hiding, eventually giving birth just south of Mynyw, now St. Davids. It was in the midst of a violent storm that her son, St. David, was born in a sea of brilliant light. She was said to have pressed her fingers so hard into a boulder beside her that she left an imprint on the rock. At the moment of his birth the rock was split into two by a lightning strike. A chapel was built where he was born and St. Nons well is nearby. St. David (or Dewi) became the patron saint of Wales. Non-and David founded a convent at Llanon near Aberaeron where he was brought up. In later years St. Non moved to Cornwall to be near her sister, St. Wenna, and she founded a monastery at Altarnon where she had chosen to settle, and where there is another well dedicated to her (interestingly also connected to pixies and pins). St. Non eventually retired to Brittany where she founded her third monastery, and spent her last days. Her relics were initially enshrined in Cornwall but they were destroyed during the reformation.
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St. Levan’s well Cornwall Map ref: SW 381219 The well is reached by a footpath opposite St. Levans church. Standing on a cliff overlooking the cove of Porthchapel, the well lies on the footpath to the beach, which during summer months means there is a constant flow of people passing by. The hermits cell was on the path below. |
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A flight of steps lead down to the ruins of his chapel that appears to have been built on a man made mound. A large sepulchral urn was unearthed from the site some years ago. The ancient granite steps were recently restored and were officially opened by the Countess of Wessex on the 10th June 2003, two days after the saints feast day.
St. Levan (or Selevan) was born in Ireland in the middle of the 5th Century AD. He originally settled in Bodellan before moving to the village named after him. In the churchyard of St. Levan there is a prehistoric boulder from which the saint would preach. One day the saint struck the rock with his fist, splitting it in two, prayed over it and prophesised:
"When with panniers astride,
a packhorse, one can ride,
through St.Levans stone,
the world will be done."
Levan ate but one fish a day, refusing to fast even on the Sabbath. One Sunday, as he set out to fish, a local woman called Joanna who was tending her garden rebuked him for fishing on a Sunday. He retorted that fishing was no worse than gardening on the Sabbath and an argument started during which St. Levan called the woman a fool and proclaimed that any child born in the parish called Joanna would find herself as stupid as this one. No child has been called Joanna since.
One time, when his sister and her child came to visit him, he caught a Chad, but deciding it wasn’t good enough for them he threw it back. The same fish was caught three times, and at last the saint accepted it, cooked it and placed it before his guests, when the child choked on the first mouthful, St. Levan saw in the accident a punishment for his dissatisfaction with the fish. An alternative story tells that he caught two fish on one hook but wanting only his customary one he threw them both back but a second and third time two fish returned to his hook and taking it as a sign St.Levan took them both and upon his return home found his sister and her two children waiting for him. He served the fish to the children who choked upon them. In Hopes time the chad was still called "chack-cheeld" or choke child.
Water from the holy well was used in the church for baptisms, and still is on occasion.
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St. Keynes Holy Well Cornwall Map ref: SX 248603 This well stands at a crossroads on the B3254 half a mile south of St. Keynes village. This is arguably the most famous well in Cornwall, the power of which is the subject of a poem by one time poet Laureate, Robert Southey, St. Keyne (born 461 AD) was the daughter of king Brychan of Brycheiniog in south Wales, a man much blessed by children by his three wives, (accounts differ from 24 up to 64). |
Many men sought the hand of the beautiful Keyne in marriage but she rejected them all, wishing to remain a virgin. Leaving her home and family she crossed the river Severn and settled in what is now known as Keynsham in Somerset, where she rid the area of ‘serpents’ which apparently explains the ammonites in the area. After living there for some years she moved on to Cornwall. Here she gave the people the well, named for her, blessing it with the power of conferring power in a marriage to whoever drank of it first-husband or wife. She is believed to have given the same power to a stone chair on St. Michaels mount. She planted over the well four symbolic trees, oak, ash, elm and withy, all apparently growing from one stem, which blew down in 1703 and were replaced by others.
She eventually left Cornwall to return to Wales with her nephew, St. Cadog. Once in Wales she set up home at the foot of a mountain, believed to be at Llangeinor in Glamorgan or Llangenny in Powys, where there is another well used for healing. She finally died on 8th October 505 AD, and a column of fire was seen above her cell and two angels carrying her to heaven.
Southey’s poem
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A well there is in the West Country, And a clearer one never was seen There is not a wife in the West Country But has heard of the well of St. Keyne.
An oak and an elm-tree stand beside, And behind doth an ash tree grow, And a willow from the bank above Droops to the water below.
A traveller came to the well of St. Keyne Joyfully he drew nigh, For from cockcrow he had been travelling, And there was not a cloud in the sky
He drank of the water so cool and clear, For thirsty and hot was he, And he sat down upon the bank Under the willow tree.
A man came from the house hard by At the well to fill his pail On the well side he rested it, And he bade the stranger hail.
"now art thou a bachelor, stranger?" quoth he for an’ if thou hast a wife, the happiest draught thou hast drank this day, that ever thou didst in thy life.
Or fast thy good woman, if one thou hast, Ever here in Cornwall been? For an’ if she have, I’ll venture my life She has drank of the well of St. Keyne." |
I have left a good woman who never was here" the stranger he made reply, "but that my draught should be the better for that, I pray you answer me why"
"St. Keyne", quoth the Cornishman, "many a time drank of this crystal well, and before the angels summoned her, she laid on the water a spell.
"If the husband of this gifted well shall drink before his wife, a happy man henceforth is he, for he shall be master for life.
But if the wife should drink of it first, God help the husband then!" The stranger stoop’d to the well of St. Keyne, And drank of the water again.
"You drank of the well I warrant betimes?" he to the Cornishman said: but the Cornishman smiled as the stranger spake, and sheepishly shook his head.
I hastened as soon as the wedding was done, And left my wife in the porch But I faith she had been wiser than me, For she took a bottle to church. |
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Madron Holy Well West Cornwall Map ref: SW 446328 Easily found via a path on the Madron to Morvah road. The well can be found to the left and a little further on is the baptistery and a grassy hillock known as St. Madernes bed. All around the well the trees are covered in "cloutie", an assortment of rags, items of clothing and other oddments, once intended to assist healing, though now more likely the keeping alive of a quaint tradition or perhaps a token to the spirit of the well. |
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This well is associated with many tales of healing probably the most famous of which is the story of John Trelille, who was left crippled as a boy after a game of football. As a 28 year old he dreamed that he would be cured if he bathed at Madron well and slept on St. Madernes bed. He followed the instructions of his dream for the first three Thursdays in May and gained strength with each successive visit until he was completely cured. Sadly he enjoyed his newly found health for just four years before he was killed fighting for the king at Lyme, in Dorset, in 1644. In the late eighteenth century two "lame and decrepit" men, John Thomas and William Cork, were cured by drinking the water and laying on the saints bed on Corpus Christi evening and taking a supply of water away with them to drink. In order to cure children of rickets they were taken to this well on the first three Sundays in May and plunged naked into the water three times, they were then passed around the well nine times from east to west then laid to sleep on St. Madernes bed.
The well was also used for divination. Maidens visiting on the first Sunday in May would throw in two pins or pebbles and if the two sank together they would soon be married. Straw crosses were also used.
There is some confusion as to which St. Madron was the saint to which the well is dedicated. The Church tells us that it is dedicated to St. Madron, also known as; Maden, Maderne, Madon and Medron a hermit monk also honoured in Brittany. Little is known about him except that he died around AD 540 and he is the patron saint of cures from pain and his feast day is the 17th May. He is probably one and the same as the Madron (Medran) who was born in Muskerry, Ireland brother to St. Ochran and pupil of St. Kieran of Saighir.
But there is also St. Madrun (which in English means Matron) who in later life settled in Cornwall with her son, St. Ceidio and it was here that she died and was buried. She was born AD 440 the eldest daughter of King Vortimer Fendigaid of Gwerthefyrivg. She was most probably named for the Roman/British Mother goddess, Matrona. She was married at a young age to Prince Ynyr and together they ruled Gwent. Whilst on a pilgrimage to Bardsey Island she stopped overnight at Trawsfynydd. Whilst here she and her handmaiden, St. Annun had an identical dream, which instructed them to build a convent at the place, where they slept. This they did and the church there is still dedicated to them today.
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Sancreed holy well West Cornwall Map ref: SW 418293
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From the church at Sancreed a footpath leads to the holy well and what remains of its baptistery. It is a truly peaceful place. Writing in 1894 the Quiller-Couches tell us that this well was “found by the present vicar in 1879 covered with brambles”, although there was mention of it, of the baptistery at least, in Lakes Parochial history of 1868. The well itself has 7 stone steps leading down to it and the overhanging tree is festooned with rag offerings.
Both the church at Sancreed and the well itself are said to be dedicated to St. Credan, though why a Cornish well should be dedicated to a 7th Century bishop from Evesham is a puzzle. I would have thought it more appropriate if it was dedicated to St. Creed (Creeda, Cryda, Cred, Crida) an Irish princess who took religious vows, travelled and founded churches in both Ireland and Cornwall including the one at St. Creed near St. Austell. The earth mysteries investigator, Paul Deveraux, tells us that the radiation levels found at this site are the highest found in Cornwall at 200% higher than background levels.
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Dupath holy well Cornwall Map ref: SX374 693
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One mile east from the town of Callington, off the A388, the well is reached via a footpath running through Dupath farm. This is the largest well house in Cornwall, at 12 foot by 111/2 foot, and is made up entirely of granite blocks c.1500.
The well was rediscovered in the 19th century by the Reverend H M Rice, the rector of South-hill and Callington, in a dilapidated state. The reverend restored the well from the ruins lying around.According to the Quiller-Couches the tradition associated with the well concerns a duel fought by two Anglo Saxons for the love of a lady. Gotlieb was a rich gentleman andSir Colan was poor.The lady’s father naturally preferred Gotlieb but the lady herself would have Sir Colan. The duel was long and hard fought but eventually Sir Colan triumphed over Gotlieb.here are apparently many versions of the story and differing names though usually the victor builds the well as an act of atonement.The waters are said to be beneficial for whooping cough. The well is in the care of the Cornwall Heritage Trust and can be visited at any reasonable time. Entrance is free.
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St. Cleer holy well Mid Cornwall Map ref: SX 249683 Standing next to the road in the village of the same name is the holy well of St. Cleer. |
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A cross of about 7 foot high stands next to it. The 15th century chapel was destroyed by fanatics in the civil war and lay in ruins for nearly 200 years before being restored to the memory of the Rev. John Pope, vicar of the parish for 67 years, in 1864. It was said that any stones removed from the site would find their way back in the night.
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The water from the well flows into a pool supposed to have been a bowsening pool, like that at Altarnun, where the insane were ducked in order to effect a cure. Various sources tell us that the well is dedicated to St. Clare a 12th century disciple of St. Francis and founder of the order of ‘poor clares’, yet in Lakes parochial history we are told, “The parish of St. Cleer is named for its patron St. Clarus”. Clarus was born in Rochester in the 9th century and went to Normandy becoming a Benedictine monk. A noblewoman whose advances he rejected had him beheaded Interestingly his feast day is given as 4th November which just so happens to be the feast day of St. Clether, also known as Cleer and Claris!
St. Anne’s, Whitstone CornwallMap ref: SX 263 9 85
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At the Church in Whitstone, to the left as you face it and down a slope you will find the holy well dedicated to St. Anne. The well house was restored in 1883, several bits being brought from elsewhere, the cross on the top coming from a nearby church. There is a head carved on the inside back wall of the well.
St. Anne although not mentioned in the bible is first mentioned in the apocryphal gospel of St. James and is said to have been the mother of the Virgin Mary and grandmother of Jesus. Ann was married to Joachim and for many years they were childless. Ann coming across a nest of sparrows wept that seemingly she alone in the entire world was barren. An angel appeared to her and told her that God had taken pity upon her and she would bear a child. The angel also appeared to Joachim telling him the same. The couple vowed to give the promised child to God.
St. Ann is the patron saint of Brittany and also of housewives and pregnant women.
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St. Non’s, Altarnun CornwallMap ref: SX 226 816
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A short distance from the church with its Celtic cross, moving away from the village, there is a gate on the right leading down a wide grass covered track leading into a field. At the bottom of the field there is a fenced off enclosure containing the holy well. The well ‘house’ itself is overgrown and the pool is stagnant. This is the well of St. Non or Nun who gave her name to the village, and to the well at Pelynt (also known as Piskies well) and the well at Bradstone in Devon as well as many in her native Wales. The 5th Century Saint Non was the daughter of Lord Cynyr Ceinfarfog of Caer Goch (though it has also been said that she was the daughter of an Earl of Cornwall). She was a nun at Ty Gwyn near Whitesands bay in Wales. She was seduced, or raped, by Prince Sandde of Ceredigion. Unmarried and pregnant St. Non went into hiding, eventually giving birth just south of Mynyw, now St. Davids. It was in the midst of a violent storm that her son, St. David, was born in a sea of brilliant light. She was said to have pressed her fingers so hard into a boulder beside her that she left an imprint on the rock. At the moment of his birth the rock was split into two by a lightning strike. A chapel was built where he was born and St. Nons well is nearby. St. David (or Dewi) became the patron saint of Wales. Non-and David founded a convent at Llanon near Aberaeron where he was brought up. In later years St. Non moved to Cornwall to be near her sister, St. Wenna, and we are told “Non sent out some oxen to drag her portable altar to the place where she would live. They stopped at Altarnon, where she settled down and founded a monastery”. St. Non eventually retired to Brittany where she founded her third monastery, and spent her last days. Her relics were initially enshrined in Cornwall but they were destroyed during the reformation.
Her well was used as a “bowssening” pool, a place to cure the insane, and Richard Carew in his 1602 survey of Cornwall describes the use of St. Nons well for the purpose;
“The water running from St. Nunn’s well fell into a square and close walled plot, which might be filled at what depth they listed. Upon this wall was the frantic person set to stand, his back towards the pool, and from thence with a sudden blow in the breast tumbled headlong into the pond, where a strong fellow, provided for the nonce, took him and tossed him up and down, alongst and athwart the water, until the patient by fore-going his strength had somewhat forgot his fury. Then he was conveyed to the church, and certain masses sung over him; upon which handling, if his right wits returned, St. Nunn had the thanks, but if there appeared small amendment he was bowssened again and again, while there remained in him any hope of life for recovery.”
Holy wells-healing waters by Dorn Turner
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Water - essential for the existence of all living things. From the moment we are born from the waters of our mothers womb we need it and cannot survive more than three days without it. Little wonder then that in times of antiquity, before the age of pipes and taps, that sources of water were revered. The Celts and the Romans believed that wells and springs had healing properties and that spirits or goddesses connected with the wells could answer prayers. |
The Romans were known to inscribe curses onto tablets of tin and lead and throw
them into the water asking the goddess to punish whoever had done them wrong
(today we still throw coins into wells in the hope of a wish being granted).
The Celts were believers in the supernatural power of the head and heads feature quite regularly in well myths. It may be that the well appeared at the spot where the severed head of a saint fell, or that the water from the well should be drunk only from a skull.
In folklore wells, springs and other bodies of water were seen as entrances to
the otherworld (places such as bridges and the seashore were also seen as
gateways between the worlds). Every well has its tale, though there is a common
thread running through many of them.
Most holy wells have a tradition of healing, eye complaints and leprosy being
two of the more common ailments healed along with infertility and rickets, and
the minerals the water picks up on its journey through the earth may have
something to do with this.
For instance sulphur is used to treat many skin complaints and there are many sulphur springs used for just such a purpose like those of Harrogate, in particular "the stinking spaw" so called because of the smell of the sulphur.
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Tradition tells us that in order to invoke the healing powers of many wells
certain customs or rituals would have to be observed. This varied from
visiting the well only on certain days, for example, washing in the well on
the first 3 Wednesdays in May (as at St. Euny's well), or following "the
rule of three", as at Madron where children were dipped naked into the well
3 times and then passed around 3 times 3 from east to west to effect a cure
for rickets.
Another method of healing was to tie a piece of cloth that had been in contact with the affected part, to a nearby tree known as rag or cloutie trees in the hope that as the rag rotted so the illness would pass away. |
Pilgrimages to wells and "taking of the waters" have been a popular pastime
throughout history but in particular in Victorian times, when spa towns enjoyed
great popularity.
Probably the best-known surviving custom regarding wells is that of well
dressing. This custom is most widely practised in Derbyshire and takes place on
May Day, the spring bank holiday or the feast day of the saint that the well is
dedicated to. Pictures, usually of a religious nature, are made out of flower
petals and foliage pressed into clay. This probably evolved from an older custom
of decorating wells with boughs of trees and garlands of flowers.
Ever since its introduction to Britain Christianity has tried to suppress the
worship of wells. A cannon was issued in 452 AD stating: "if in the territory of
a bishop infidels light torches or venerate trees, fountains or stones, and he
neglects to abolish this usage, he must know that he is guilty of sacrilege."
This obviously failed as two hundred years later Pope Gregory recommended that
rather than destroy the temples they should be converted for Christian use.
Baptisteries and churches were built over or near to many wells but cannot have succeeded in deterring people from continuing with their old ways as yet another cannon was issued in the 10th Century and yet again in the 11th and 12th centuries.
The church seems to have settled for a compromise whereby the old practises
continued but behind a Christian facade. The guardianship of the wells though
passed to the Christian saints whose stories tell of prayers for water answered
or the banishment of giants, dragons and serpents, stories every bit as magical
as those that must have preceded them.
Dorn.
References and further reading.
Sacred waters, Holy well and water lore in Britain and Ireland: Janet and Colin Bord.
Ancient and holy wells of Cornwall: M and L Quiller-Couch.
Survey of Cornwall 1602: Richard Carew.
Fentynyow Kernow, in search of Cornwall’s Holy wells: Cheryl Straffon.
The Legendary Lore of the holy wells of England: Robert Charles Hope, F.S.A., F.R.S.L 1893.
The drolls, traditions and superstitions of old Cornwall; second series: saints, holy wells king Arthur, sorcery: Robert Hunt
Holy wells: a pilgrims guide to the holy wells of Cornwall and their saints: J Meyrick
The Pilgrims way: shrines and saints in Britain and Ireland: John Adair
Folklore, Myths and Customs of Britain: Marc Alexander
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