In September 1937 workmen digging the foundations of Truro’s new Telephone Exchange unearthed human bones. This macabre discovery in the heart of the city surprised everyone and would lead to rumours of a forgotten burial ground, while a curious carved head found nearby would give rise to tales of an ancient curse.
Why those bodies were buried where they were and where the strange carving came from remains something of a mystery to this day but at the time there were those that believed that there must be a connection to Truro’s long-lost medieval friary . . .
The Dominican Friary
A few years ago I wrote an article about Truro’s secret history, I compiled a number of stories about this historic little city that I felt were less well known. In that article I included a section about the very beginnings of the settlement and the Dominican Friary that was established in Truro in around 1259, when it was noted that Bishop Bronescombe, the founder of Glasney College, came to visit.
It is hard to imagine now but we know that the friary occupied a large area around Kenwyn Street, Castle Street, Francis Street and Dominic Street, which takes it name from the religious complex. The exact footprint and layout has been lost but it is thought that by the 14th and 15th centuries the monastery had grown to include a church, Chapter House, Culverhouse (dovecote), well and cemetery. Documents held at Kresen Kernow seem to suggest that the Friary’s land covered a substantial area as several leases in the archive, dating from the 17th and 18th centuries, mention plots of land seemingly named after the old religious centre.
“There was certainly Friary land on the south side of Kenwyn Street, for in 1636 John Michell (who sold the land to the Boscawens) leased to Edward Grosse ‘all the old walls reedified builded and made a Barn with garden, orchard and meadow, part of certain land in Kenwyn called ‘the Friars‘. Here it would seem could have been the orchard for the friary together with some farm buildings.” – Truro Buildings Research Group, 1985
At the time of the Dissolution in 1538 it was recorded that Truro’s ‘Friary of St Dominic’ had ten remaining monks still living within its grounds and it is thought that some ruinous remains of the friary buildings could still be seen up until about 1700. These “old walls” are noted in later maps.
But for a structure that once dominated the centre of Truro it is amazing that so little of it now remains.
There are some clues however. Cornwall Museum has a few broken pieces of carved stones, found during an excavation undertaken on Kenwyn Street in 1840. In 1845 a 16th century gold ring with a ruby and enamelled decoration, attributed to the friary, was found, again near Kenwyn Street and in the same year a Mr Williams dug up an engraved brass medal in his garden on River Street. Again it was believed that this object also came from the friary as the medal had ‘Salvator Mundi Sal Nos’ – ‘Saviour of the world, save us‘ on one side and ‘Mater Salvatoris ora pro nobis’ – ‘Mother of the Saviour, pray for us’ on the other.
But it was a quite different discovery in the grounds of Chapel House that has led to the stories of a monk’s curse . . .
The Chapel House
Between Kenwyn Street (once known as Carvedras Street), Calenick Street (once known as Street Newham) and City Road (sometimes called Back Lane) there once stood a large residence called Chapel House.
A comfortable, old property with six bedrooms and four reception rooms, it also had a large garden with a “good well” that had an “ample supply of capital drinking water”. Interestingly there was also a large orchard (shown below), which could potentially be the same one mentioned in the Edward Grosse lease (mentioned above).
This plot of land, like much of Truro, had once belonged to the Boscawen family, who seem to have bought it from John Michell in the 17th century. The Michells were a well known Truro family in the 16th and 17th century – John Michell (c1530–1588) was mayor of the town in 1584, he married Jane Killigrew and was rumoured to be mixed up in that family’s notorious piracy.
The earliest mention I can find of a ‘Chapel House’ in Kenwyn is of a William Slade Gully who was born there on 24th December 1754 (though I can’t be sure that this is the same building). Then in July 1813 the newspapers note the passing of “Elizabeth Michell, widow of the late John Michell Esq of Chapel House in Truro” and then a month later the house’s furniture is put up for sale.
Whether these Michell’s were related to the John Michell mentioned in the 17th century lease (above) is not clear and again it is far from certain that this is the same Chapel House as the one we are interested in.
In fact, it is most likely that Chapel House was actually related to the Methodist Chapel that was built nearby in 1795. That year the Wesleyans were given a long, narrow plot of land by Mark Rowe, a local tanner, and the first purpose-built Methodist Chapel in Truro was constructed, just off Kenwyn Street. Presumably Chapel House was built around this time too, perhaps as a residence for the minister.
Then the Wesleyan congregation outgrew this chapel and in around 1830 they moved to larger premises at Union Place. The chapel on Kenwyn Street continued to be used by other denominations, including the Salvation Army and it seems Chapel House was rented out.
Throughout the second half of the 19th century Chapel House and its land was leased initially by a man called Edward Blacker and then the Barrett family. First Joseph Barrett, a member of the town council, the Board of Guardians and also a parish clerk for St Mary’s Church and then by his son, William, in the 1870s.
St Mary’s Church was of course incorporated into the Cathedral when it was built and there are two stained glass windows dedicated to the Barrett family in what is now the St Mary’s Aisle, including one commemorating William’s death in 1898. It notes his residence as Chapel House.
In 1903 Chapel House and its land were put up for sale and it was bought by wealthy mining engineer, Jervis Veale, for £1200 – about £100,000 in today’s money.
Jervis had been born in Perranzabuloe in 1864 and had a successful career in the mining industry, travelling to South America and Africa for work and photographing his travels as he went. (His extraordinary photo albums are now in the care of Kresen Kernow.)
On his return to Cornwall he moved to Truro, immersed himself in local society there and after buying Chapel House he renamed it ‘Trescovean’.
He lived there with his wife Anne until his death in 1936 and then, soon after, it was announced that the house was to be demolished and the site to be used to build Truro’s new Telephone Exchange.
It was during this work that something rather disturbing came to light.
Discovery of Human Bones
On 30th September 1937 the West Briton newspaper reported that all work on the Telephone Exchange had stopped while the County Coroner, Mr L. J Carlyon, examined the remains of a number of burials that had been uncovered. The newspaper’s reporter had visited the trenches where bones and the remains of coffins had been revealed at around five or six feet below the surface.
Despite speculation at the time that Chapel House had been built close to the ruins of the friary’s old chapel, and therefore its graveyard, it was decided that the burials were less 12th century and more Edwardian in date. One coffin even retained its original brass plate with the initials F. W. and the date, 1803. This I have identified this as Frances Willyams, wife of William, who was buried in January 1803. In total nine bodies were found, the names of the other eight are unknown, and these were all re-interned in Truro Cemetery that October.
With this exciting interlude over the building work began again and there is no further mention of any strange discoveries. How the bodies came to be buried in what appears to have been the garden of Chapel House is a bit of a mystery but it is very likely that they were members of the old Methodist congregation. Indeed, there were almost certainly many more burials on the plot than the nine that were uncovered in 1937, now, in all likelihood, hidden beneath the carparks and the modern buildings.
The Monk & The Curse
However, some sixty years after the discovery of the burial ground the history of the site was in the papers again.
When the Telephone Exchange had been built in the 30s sections of the old wall that had surrounded Chapel House had been left in situ. The tithe map of Kenwyn from 1840/1841 shows nothing on the site but on a map of Truro made by Richard Symons in 1848 the wall at the back of what was Chapel House’s gardens is in exactly the same position as it is today.
And set into this wall is a carving of what many believe is a monk’s face.
Understandably this unusual feature did not go unnoticed by the staff in the BT building. But the real trouble began in the 1980s, when an old hawthorn tree growing close by was earmarked for removal. It seems that some long remembered stories of an old burial ground, the gnarled old tree and this strange sculpture all combined to create the legend of an ancient curse.
Local people were convinced that the monk’s face marked the site of the cemetery of the Friary of St Dominic. And importantly it was also believed that the ancient hawthorn tree was actually growing on the grave of one of these friars and that “death would follow” if that tree was disturbed. So when it became apparent that there was a plan to have the tree cut down the staff in the Telephone Exchange started a petition to save it.
They initially thought that the tree, which some believed had stood on that spot for hundreds of years, was protected by law but unfortunately it turned out that there was no preservation order in place, so British Telecom went ahead and had the hawthorn cut down. According to the papers the staff were very upset, they were apparently convinced that there would be deadly consequences.
A spokesman for BT, Brian Nice, explained that the tree had been mostly dead and was considered dangerous, so it had had to be removed for safety reasons but he also wryly complained that it would probably mean that any death that occurred would now be attributed to the curse by the superstitious staff!
The spokesman for the staff told the newspaper: “Some girls are concerned about what may happen now that something has been done which should not have been done”.
Whether there were any repercussions, any deaths or disasters, is not clear.
The Face
It is not hard to see why the carving caused such a stir. It is certainly an arresting object. Set deep into the old boundary wall, the face (to my untrained eye) appears to have been there since it was constructed as the stones seem to have been laid to fit around it.
It is a hefty piece of pale coloured stone, roughly 50cm by 70cm and at least 10+ cm thick, with the face protruding another 8 or 10cm from the flat surface. The face has a full beard and moustache and a bald head, with a sort of quiff of hair in the middle of the forehead. The lips are slightly parted, the nostrils are flared (with some damage to the stonework) and the face has a quite severe expression, with eyes that are strangely piercing.
It appears to be what was known as a grotesque, a carving that would have looked down from the walls of an old building. Grotesques, similar to gargoyles but without the waterspout, started to be used in architecture in Britain in the 13th century, particularly in religious buildings. These carvings were decorative features but they were traditionally often ugly or angry looking in order to ward off evil and to remind the parishioners that they were being watched and judged.
So could this face have once adorned the walls of Truro’s friary? Well, more on that below . . .
Ghostly Sightings
Perhaps rather fittingly in recent years stories of a ghostly monk haunting the William IV pub, just round the corner from the BT building on Kenwyn Street, have emerged.
Peter Underwood mentions this phantom friar briefly in his book ‘Ghosts of Cornwall‘ (1989) as does Ian Addicoat in ‘Ghostly Tales of Cornwall‘ (2001), Paul Newman in ‘Haunted Cornwall’ (2005) and Stuart Andrews and Jason Higgs in ‘Paranormal Cornwall‘ (2009).
However, I can’t seem to find an earlier, original source for the story, other than Underwood’s book, which came out four years after the events at the Telephone Exchange. It is hard to know whether the ghost stories where borne out of the rumours of a curse and the grave of a monk circulating in the 1980s or whether the tale dates back further.
A Monk or Not a Monk?
The origins of the carving of the man’s face are as obscure as these ghostly sightings. But I was determined to find out all I could.
Out of curiosity I sent a friend of mine, who is a historic buildings consultant and architectural historian specializing in Cornish buildings, some photographs of the monk’s face. While he said that he was not an expert on the friary, he did say that the carving was “intriguing” and “probably pre Reformation”, making it old enough to have come from one of the friary buildings. However, other experts I have consulted have been far less convinced. James Gossip, Senior Archaeologist at Cornwall Archaeological Unit, thought I should be very wary of its age, that it looked too sophisticated to be old enough to have come from the friary and suggested it could be a Victorian copy.
I next consulted Ann Preston-Jones and Andrew Langdon, who are the go-to authorities when it comes to ecclesiastical architecture in Cornwall. They both have a huge amount of knowledge and experience and they are both “very sceptical of it as a medieval relic”. Their instinct, like James, is that the carving is too crisp, the details too fine, and not at all reminiscent of other carved heads of a similar period found elsewhere in Cornwall. Ann told me:
“The shape of the BT carving suggests that it may have acted as a keystone; not in an arch but in a flat lintel. As such it would be extremely uncommon in Norman architecture and even more in Gothic architecture, where arches developed pointed and elaborate forms. However it is characteristic of 18th or 19th century architecture . . . I have no idea what the original context of the stone might have been. Perhaps it came from a now-demolished building in Truro. It could have been attached to a building on the site of the BT exchange, the Chapel House or the Mission Hall might be a possibility. I personally think that the wall into which the stone is set is earlier in date than the carving. To me, it looks like an old yard wall; traces of whitewash can still be seen. The wall has certainly been reduced in height and the sculptured head and key stone inserted at a later date.”
And as for the carving representing a monk, they have their doubts there too . . .
Final Thoughts
After weighing up all the evidence the likelihood of the Monk’s Head being from the Dominican Friary now seems remote.
I am hoping that something more will come to light to give me another clue so that one day we can solve the mystery of where this striking piece of stonework has come from. But for now I think I have exhausted all the avenues of research I can think of – looking through the newspaper archives, the various books I have on the history of Truro, leases, plans and documents related to Chapel House held by Kresen Kernow, old maps and photographs and consulting knowledgeable experts . . . all to no avail.
But I do have one more thought.
During my hunt I did come across a little something curious while researching Jervis Veale. I was interested to note that as well as having an interest in photography and mining, he was also something of a collector. The St Austell Gazette wrote that, along with a large collection of rocks and minerals, he also kept many artifacts from his travels and “native curios, formed into a private museum in his home”. Could the stone carving have belonged to the Veale family? Were they the ones that had it set into the wall of their garden or was it already there when Jervis Veale bought the house?
After learning this I went back to Kresen Kernow and looked through a Veale family photo album in the hope that I might find a picture of the gardens of Chapel House but, of course, no such luck.
I hope that one day we will know more and that the mystery of the Monk’s Curse can be laid to rest once and for all!
Finally . . .
I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to all the talented folk who helped me with my research! I suddenly realised just how lucky I am to have so many knowledgeable people to call upon for advice!
Visiting the Monk
The carving is on private property, the site is still owned by BT.
Further Reading:
The Mystery of Pencalenick Obelisk, near Truro
Truro’s Forgotten Past – Our City’s Hidden Secrets
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