A small granite cross stands entirely alone on an isolated slope of Bodmin Moor. Just three feet high somehow it manages to dominate the landscape, easily spotted by the few that might find themselves walking out there on this peaceful part of the moorland.
But sadly this little cross doesn’t mark the site of some forgotten ancient chapel or holy well and it is not a waymarker.
It has a tragic story to tell.
Moorland Crosses
Away from the churches and villages the moor is dotted with a surprising number of beautiful and often lonely crosses. Usually erected to mark some ancient trackway, such as Middlemoor Cross, or perhaps a Christianised ancient standing stone, such as Long Tom, they always make interesting focal points in the landscape.
But the cross that stands part way up The Ridge, a rounded tor-less hill between East Moor and Twelve Men’s Moor, marks the spot where a young lady, Doris Shellabear, met with a terrible accident that cost her her life.
Miss Doris Shellabear
Miss Doris Mary Shellabear (sometimes spelt Shellaber or Shellabeer) was from a well-known and respected Plymouth family. Her grandfather, George Down Shellabear had founded a building company with her father, George Gentle Shellabear, sometime in the 1880s.
George Down had started his career in the late 1860s as a humble plumber but he and his son would go on to build many impressive and prestigious projects around the city, including Roborough Reservoir, Friary Station, No2 Dry Dock at the Royal Dockyard and the Royal Naval Engineering College on Keyham Road in Devonport.
The family also purchased the Pounds Estate in Plymouth and constructed some 8000 new houses for this ever growing city.
It is safe to say that the Shellabear family were comfortably well-off and Doris and her three siblings were able to pursue all the leisure activities that befitted their social position. She took part in amateur operatic performances, was a Girl Guide and played in local tennis tournaments, sometimes with her sisters. During the First World War Doris joined the Voluntary Aid Detachment and was a nurse at the Royal Naval Hospital in Stonehouse. She was described by those who knew her as “of a very cheery and aimable disposition” and “very well liked”.
In April 1922 Doris’ engagement to Mr Francis Oscar Morris of Lifton was announced in the newspapers, including the socialites’ bible – The Tatler. Oscar, as he was known, was a wealthy catch. He was chairman of Ambrosia Ltd, a Devon based company started by his father that produced tinned milk products including custard, powdered baby milk and semolina.
We all know about Ambrosia Devon Custard!
In the September of that same year Doris was bridesmaid for her sister, Kathleen, at her marriage to Alan Fullamore. The wedding in Tavistock was described as “very fashionable” and several column inches were taken up with descriptions of the wedding party.
“[The bridesmaids] wore dresses of ivory charmeuse with scalloped hem of applique chiffon velvet, trimmed with silver lace and silver shoes. Their hair was adorned with wreaths of silver leaves and they carried sheaves of red carnations.”
Everything seemed in set for a bright, happy future for Doris but just two months later disaster struck.
The Hunt at Trebatha
“Here’s a health to them that can ride!
Here’s a health to them that ride bold!”
Jorrock’s Jaunts & Jollities
One of the activities that Doris had apparently enjoyed since childhood was horse riding and this inevitably led to her hunting. And in this sport she was described as a very experienced rider.
Though attitudes are very different today in the past hunting was considered a healthy outdoor pursuit, very much part of country living, and Doris was a regular with the East Cornwall Foxhounds that met a Trebatha Hall twice a week on Tuesdays and Fridays between September and April.
“It has been declared by a competent authority that there is no better galloping country in England than is found here [Bodmin Moor], especially the area hunted by the East Cornwall Foxhounds.”
J. W. Malim, The Bodmin Moors, 1936
At that time there were three packs of hounds on Bodmin Moor – the North Cornwall hunt, the Fowey Harriers and the East Cornwall Foxhounds. The moors were considered ideal for the sport, offering large areas of unbroken ground for the chase, although according to Malim the foxes had a distinct advantage over their pursuers.
The great number of tors and boulders apparently gave the animals “numerous rock refuges” to escape the hounds.
Trebatha was an ancient seat owned by the Rodd family, who could boast over 600 years of ancestry on that quiet moorland spot. The Rodds were Cornish gentry who, it seems, were happy to live in obscurity on Bodmin Moor and it’s not hard to understand why.
Trebatha Hall, which was demolished in 1949, was described as a “magical” home in an idyllic valley setting beside the river Lynher. Surrounded by mature woodlands, water meadows and the vast moors the picturesque estate had been inherited by Edward Stanhope Rodd in 1922, after the death of his elder brother. His son, Major Francis Rodd, was a similar age to Doris.
On Friday 24th November 1922 Doris Shellabear joined the other riders and hounds at Trebatha Hall, ready for a day of sport on the moor.
The Accident & the Cross
The Ridge, with views across to Hawk’s Tor, Trewortha Tor and Kilmar Tor, is little more than a mile from the hall and that day a fox was sighted by the hunt almost immediately. The riders gave chase and Doris was galloping up the slope on her horse when suddenly the animal stumbled. It had caught its foot in a rabbit hole.
Doris was thrown off and the animal “turned turtle”. If this had been all, as an experienced rider she probably would have been ok, just an unfortunate tumble and some bruises to show for it, but fate had other ideas. As the uninjured horse rolled over and struggled to find its feet it kicked her in the head.
Doris was taken to Launceston hospital where she lingered for three days but never regained consciousness. She died on the Sunday, aged just 24 years and Mr and Mrs Shellabear buried their youngest daughter in the graveyard of Tavistock parish church on Wednesday 29th November 1922, the same church where she had been a bridesmaid just two months earlier.
The Rodd family, perhaps because of their affection for Doris and their regret and sadness over her tragic death, had the small granite cross erected on the spot where she had fallen on The Ridge, high on the lonely wilds of Bodmin Moor.
And there it stands more than 100 years later.
Final Thoughts
Stories like this one are why I continue to find such joy and fascination with Cornish history. A small, unassuming granite cross has such a tale to tell. It takes us in an instant back to a vivid snapshot of the past.
According to the Cornish cross expert, Andrew Langdon, the cross-head was broken off in 1999 probably by cattle using it as a rubbing post. Fortunately a local stonemason, Ernie Hillson of St Tudy, took on the repair and Doris’ cross was restored in January 2000.
When I was researching this story I told a friend some of the circumstances and when I came to the part where I explained that the accident had happened while Doris was out fox hunting he had said, with hardly a pause for breath: “Serves her right”. Although I understand the disdain, and hunting is not something that I would personally ever choose to do, I find it very difficult to just condemn someone so completely for their actions when they took place so long ago. And when, at the time, they were not only thought of as socially acceptable but also important to nature and the rural economy.
In my opinion we should be very careful when we judge the people of the past by our own modern standards, it is rarely that simple. A bright, young woman lost her life in an unfortunate and brutal accident and that is a tragedy, whatever the era and whatever the circumstances.
Further Reading:
The Ukrainian Cross, Mylor Bridge
Remembering the Murder of Charlotte Dymond
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Enjoyed reading this,love the history of Cornwall.But I must say more foxes have been shot than ever caught by a dog.