Spencer, Ancient Trackways in England, section 2

{98b}
Having recorded these observations, I venture to suggest the following explanation:

The general design of the works seems to be a central line of long distance signals, with more frequent posts to the right and left connecting the natural harbours at the mouths of the Wey, Axe, Otter, Exe, Teign, Parret, Brue, Avon, Medway, Thames, and Humber; also St. Gennys, near Bude Haven, an important position on the Cornish coast, and Minehead.

These direct signal-line stations, though no doubt connected with each other by trackways, would not always afford the best lines for the principal roadways; and we find that the early ridgeways, so far as they have been traced, connected nearly all the foregoing points; but, owing to physical and other difficulties, not in straight lines. There seem to be indications of other parallel arrangements of fortified posts and beacons, and it is probable that, upon further research, it will be found that these north-west and north-east lines are preserved as guiding ones throughout the entire district, which was under the control of these early, perhaps Phœnician, far-seeing engineers. It is noteworthy that similar names at long intervals are connected with each other by these radiating lines. Phelps, in his History of Somerset, describes a Belgic-British roadway from the Avon, which passed through Somerset and Devon and by Hartland into Cornwall, thus actually connecting two of the points, Bristol and St. Gennys, indicated by the lines radiating from the cross. He also describes one which after crossing the Midlands, from the mouth of the Humber in Lincolnshire, passed through Somersetshire to Axmouth in Dorset on the English Channel, an important ancient {99a} harbour—both these extreme points being indicated by the radiating lines—and mentions that this road at Ilchester had a branch from Dorchester. By a branch this road doubtless communicated with Weymouth, another extremity of a radiating line from the cross, as there are traces of a ridgeway on the map between these two towns.

There was also the great trackway, afterwards called Ikeneld Street, which connected the Southern trackways with Exeter; Exmouth, at Powderham, being another point indicated by the cross. Also a trackway from the Bristol Channel, near Minehead, to Taunton, passed through Neroche and proceeded to Axmouth. Other roadways of this date are noted as passing through Neroche, and it is remarkable that Phelps mentions nearly all the harbours indicated by the cross as being connected by ridgeways with Neroche.

The main or north-west line, commencing at Weymouth and ending at Selworthy Hill, has the significant names of Melcombe Regis at one end and East and West Meyn at the other. The former may be derived from the Saxon mel, a portion of the heavens which the sun rules off, or mell, a marking; hence a line or boundary, so that the line or boundary combe may be the meaning of the name, which contains the line of the setting summer sun as seen from Weymouth on the English Channel, passing near Meyn, or the stone, not far from Minehead, on the Bristol Channel.

The allied name of Melbury occurs about eight miles north-east of this line, near Evershot, where there is a remarkable group of roadways or drives in Melbury Park, the seat of the Earl of Ilchester.

These drives, eight in number (one the “Grand Vista”), radiate from an open field of several acres, named “the circle,” the whole being enclosed in “Great High Wood” and “Rag Copse.” A wood bearing the name of the “Monks’ Wood” adjoins the latter. The field is higher than the adjoining ground, and gradually slopes from a central position, 460 feet above the sea level, towards the wood. It is an elevated and commanding spot, and seems admirably adapted for astronomical observations, and the direction of the lines would seem to be determined by {99b} the north-east one, that of the rising summer sun, while at Corfe the north-west one, the line of the setting sun on June 21, appears to be the guiding one. The complete system of eight pathways found here suggested the idea that two of those at Corfe might be overgrown, as the design and arrangement of the two works is similar in many respects. There is, however, this important difference between them, the centre of the cross at Corfe being only 40 or 50 feet in diameter, while that at Melcombe contains an area of some acres. The centre at Corfe seems designed for the receiving and transmission of signals, the arched-shaped avenues guiding the eye of an observer stationed at the centre, like huge natural telescopes, to the nearest signal hills, while that at Melcombe, though doubtless connected with the perfect signal system by means of its radiating lines, is more adapted for the observations and calculations connected with the movements of the heavenly bodies at the measuring or record town—which may possibly be the meaning of the word—of this great and far-reaching system.

It may be remarked that the form of the cross, in its complete shape, is a combination of the generally accepted figures of the Hebrew Aleph and Tau corresponding to the Greek Alpha and Omega, being the first and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet and would further generally correspond with eight main divisions into which the circle is divided on the mariner’s compass. Whether the work was originally laid down by Pagans or not, it seems reasonable to suppose that, as Hecateus, five centuries before Christ, describes Britain as an island in the ocean over against Gaul, fully as large as Sicily, famous for a magnificent sacred enclosure dedicated to Apollo, and a temple renowned for its riches and circular form, it was at one time a centre of Pagan worship; and anyone who has seen the sun setting over the distant north-west hills, or the moon rising over Pickeridge, a portion of the cofa-like enclosure, can hardly conceive a more suitable place than the “Monks’ Wood” for the development of such scenic effect as would be involved in the worship of Baal and Astarte. Later, when Christianity supplanted Paganism, this property must have fallen into the hands of the Anglican Church, who no {100a} doubt understood the original design, and carefully preserved it until the dissolution of religious houses by Henry VIII.

Then the idea was lost, and, consequently, no regard was paid in building, from the seventeenth century downwards, to the far-reaching lines of the cross. Still, in the hands of laymen it has been carefully preserved for more than three centuries, and by no one more conservatively than the present owner, whose courtesy in permitting me to examine both the cross and the surrounding buildings I here gratefully acknowledge, and to whom I would venture to suggest that a careful excavation at the cross-centre would probably be attended with interesting results.

It is true that many of the old trees have disappeared—some, I believe, early in the present century. Still there are quite enough ancestral oaks in the wood and park to show very clearly what was the general character of the neighbourhood many centuries ago.

The lines would seem to be the work of either the Belgæ coming from the south-east, or of an earlier immigration, guided by the setting summer sun in laying down the direction of signal communication to protect their harbours on both channels; and the crossing of the two main signal lines is arranged in the form of X in a masterly way, so as to take place in a secluded spot equally distant from either channel.

This cruciform centre of, perhaps, both civil and religious government was in touch with all these harbours, and naturally admirably adapted for such a purpose; and it can be readily realized how rapidly a signal-flash by day or a beacon-flame by night could be passed from Axmouth in the south to the estuary of the Parret in the north, or from the Thames in the east to Bude Haven in the west, through the centre of the cross.

It may be asked whether this important position was not safe-guarded by earthworks; but I am not aware that any remains of such exist, nor do I think that it would be a post that could be readily held against an opposing force. I conceive, rather, that its security consisted partly in its remote situation, far removed from the dangers of either channel, and partly from its proximity to the almost impregnable stronghold of Neroche, where the observers at the cross could retire at the {100b} approach of any passing danger and still be in communication, as has been pointed out, though not so perfectly as at the station at the cross-centre, with the main signal lines.

The name of the village, Corfe, the same root as Corton, which is sometimes written Corfetown, which latter is derived, according to Phelps, from Cor, “the curvature of the hill”; Gor, or Cor, is also said to be a British word for a religious circle. The Greek Κορος, equivalent to the Hebrew Cor, is a measure; and circular measures are in use in Palestine to the present day.

The Saxon Cofa means “bay” or “cove,” so that all these words seem to point to the shape of the surrounding hills; and one has only to stand on the southern line from the cross-centre, where it cuts the new road to Pitminster, and look southward, when the complete cofa-like form of the hills is very striking.

There is a tradition in the village that its name means “hidden”; and, as in Saxon, breost is “the breast,” and breost-Cofa “the spirit,” the name may also allude to the mysterious and hidden union of the soul with the body.

With regard to the idea of pagan occupation, it may be noted that Brown Down, adjoining Staple Hill, the highest point near Corfe, is on the southern line from the cross, so that the worshippers, purified by fire on that height—Brown being a possible contraction of the Saxon Browen, “to prepare by fire”—would pass the stream at Higher and Lower Whitford (White Ford), and entering by Park Gate (Saxon, Gat), which is in a line with the southern way to the cross, would proceed by a ridge, crossing the highest part of the new Pitminster road, to the hidden mysteries of the grove of which the cross formed the centre.

This south road has the significant names of “No Place” and “Moorlitch” near it, from which Neroche is about three miles distant.

Could it have been when the glory of the Briton was departing that he, lamenting near the line clearly defined by the setting sun, while burying his slain in Moorlitch (litch, Saxon for “dead”), and looking upon the ruins of the slightly built mansion-house (plas or plais), and seeing the hills where he {101a} dug calamine close at hand, and copper not far off, and the great south road leading to the important harbour at the mouth of the Axe, lined by the barrows covering his illustrious dead, in the hands of the Roman conqueror; could it have been that he then sorrowfully exclaimed, “Ne plas” (no place), in reference to his chief’s house, and “Ne roche” in relation to that marvellously contrived central position where so many ridge-ways met, and which for him, at least, had ceased to be a stronghold; and then with a melancholy degree of satisfaction looked down upon Corfe, where the secret of the “rouge croix” was hidden from the foe in its cofa?