Devon's outlier
Lundy is a narrow island rising from the Bristol Channel about 11 miles north of Hartland
Point on the North Devon coast from where it is clearly visible on a fine day:
A lusty black brow'd girl, with forehead broad and high,
That often had bewitched the sea-gods with her eye.
This evocation of Lundy by the poet Michael Drayton comes from his Poly-Olbion written in
1612. Cantos 4 and 5 of this lengthy work are devoted to Lundy, taking the form of a
contest in song between nymphs on either side of the River Severn estuary to determine
whether the island should rightly belong to England or to Wales. The poem concludes that
she belongs equally to both.
In this illustration from the original edition, Neptune and Amphitrite, the Greek
sea-goddess, stand on either side of the nymph of Lundy who is adorned with a gannet on
her head and has a pair of rabbits at her feet.
As seen nearer, the Island shows itself a lofty table-headed granite rock, rising to the
average height of 500 feet, surrounded by steep and occasionally perpendicular cliffs,
storm-beaten, riven, and scarred over with grisly seams and clefts, and hollowed out here
and there along the shore into fantastic coves and grottos, with huge piles of granite
thrown in wild disorder. [From Lundy Island: a Monograph by John R Chanter, Cassell, Petter
and Galpin, 1887]
where are the puffins?
The name Lundy is derived from the Old Norse words lundi and ey, meaning
'puffin island'. It was well known to the Viking invaders who harried the coasts of Devon and
Wales in the 9th and 10th centuries.
As recently as the 1950's there was a large breeding colony of puffins on the island, but
these much loved seabirds are seldom observed in more recent times; indeed the number of
breeding pairs had fallen to 10 by 2001. Two reasons are given for this dramatic decline: the
predatory action of the black rat population on Lundy, and the commercial fishing for sand
eels, the puffin's preferred food. The black rat or Ratus ratus was carried across the
world from its native Asia in merchant ships and was widespread and numerous in Britain by
Medieval times. Its fleas are believed to be the vector of the Black Death, or bubonic
plague, that killed up to one third of the English population in the epidemic of 1348. Since
the 18th Century the black rat has been supplanted by the brown rat or Ratus
novegicus, and until a recent extermination program was completed Lundy Island's black
rat colony was the last in the UK. The elimination of these unlamented rodents from the
island offers some hope that puffin numbers may increase in the future, but progress has been
slow: fieldwork reported in the Journal of the Lundy Field Society [vol 1, 2008] recorded
only four successful breeding pairs out of seven active burrows observed in the summer of
2007.
There is one seabird that does appear to be thriving now that the island is rat-free. An
article in the same journal reports evidence showing that the Manx shearwater, which also
rears its chicks in cliff-top burrows on offshore islands, has shown remarkable breeding
success on Lundy since the island's rats were eradicated in 2004.
The most commonly seen puffins on the island today are those on the merchandise sold in
the island store, including the famous puffin postage stamps first introduced in 1929 by the
island's owner, Martin Harman the self-styled King of Lundy. These stamps could be purchased
using the Half Puffin and One Puffin coins introduced at the same time. This was in breach of
the UK coinage laws, and Puffin coins were withdrawn from circulation after Harman was fined
for this infringement.
a topological stretch
The island is more than 3 miles long, and averages ½ mile wide; it is longer and
narrower than is shown in this map by the 18th century cartographer Donn. At this time Lundy was a
parish within part of North Devon known as the Braunton Hundred.
A much more useful map for the modern visitor is this one on which the most prominent
features of the island and its coastline are clearly marked. It is reproduced by kind
permission of the Lundy Field
Society, a charity for the study of Lundy with particular reference to its history,
natural history and archaeology, and the conservation of its wildlife and antiquities.
an enchanting island
It was during the heatwave of July 1994 that I made my first visit to Lundy. One sultry
day as the SS Oldenburg was disappearing from view, ferrying the day-trippers back to the
mainland, I made my way slowly along the west coast path northwards from Marisco Castle until
I reached the headland high above Jenny's Cove where I sat awhile basking in the late
afternoon sun, admiring the spectacular coastline. The silence was broken only by the
plaintive cries of the seagulls swooping and gliding to and fro below, and the distant hiss
of the sea breaking on the rocks at the foot of the cliffs. The air was fresh and
invigorating. On that day this beautiful isle was a haven of tranquillity, but it wasn't
always so: it has a history as stormy as the seas that pound its coast through the winter
months.
a piratical past - the middle ages
This tale of nefarious goings on is told by Eric R. Delderfield in "The North Devon Story"
(1952):
The first tyrannical Lundy owners of which anything is known were the de Marisco family,
who, in the 12th century became (as was the habit of knights with Norman blood in their
veins) ambitious and powerful. They recognised in the island a stronghold that could be
held against all-comers, and hold it they did. Twice it was granted to the Knights Templar,
but they were unable to take possession. In 1235, William de Marisco became implicated in
the attempted murder of Henry III, and when suspicion rested on him, he promptly fled to
Lundy. For the next few years he had a right royal time, collecting around him as pretty a
company of outlaws and malefactors as can be imagined. He fortified the island and built a
stronghold at the only landing place in the ten miles of coastline. Piracy, rapine, murder
and even sorties against the realm became the order of the day, and they had but to return
to the castle to be quite safe. Some victims would be taken back to be held for ransom,
others as slaves, and those who proved obstinate were simply thrown over the cliff to the
rocks and sea hundreds of feet below.
The remains of Marisco's castle still stand, and the walls are nine feet thick. No wonder,
as the years went by, the King was advised by his nobles that the island was impregnable to
ordinary assault, and the only hope of obtaining possession was by stratagem. Most
unfortunately we have no knowledge of the artifices employed but doubtless thieves were set
to catch the thieves, and eventually, after a 17-year run, William was captured together
with sixteen of his chief accomplices. In the manner of his end there was certainly poetic
justice, for he was hung, suspended on a hook, disembowelled, his bowels burnt and then his
body drawn and quartered, a quarter being sent as a present and a warning to each of the
four principle cities of the kingdom. No pity need be wasted on William, for it was the
sort of thing his victims had suffered for years.
Lundy was then seized by the King, but strange to relate, within forty years the Marisco
family were again in possession, but for a period which proved comparatively short. They
then passed out of the island's history.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to John Lerwill for permitting use of part of the transcription of "The North Devon
Story" in his
Devon History Selection.
The old map of Lundy comes from Donn's one inch to the mile survey of 1765. This is
reproduced from the Lundy community page on the
Devon Libraries Local Studies
Service. The copyright of the modern map is held by the
Lundy Field Society, whose permission
should be sought before reproducing this image.
| | last modified on
19 May 2010
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