Mamcala

Last May I blogged about climbing Skirrid in the Black Mountains. Dru Marland, who regularly enthrals me with stories of her life on the Kennet & Avon Canal, left a comment about Raymond Williams' books "The People of the Black Mountains". Six months later I'm only half way through the second book in the series but fine fare should, I contend, be consumed slowly and thoughtfully.

Fifteen times in book one, Raymond Williams mentions a great cave. Here's the first, from the time when the last Ice Age was still receding:
There is also the story of the great cave, of Mamcala, where the sacred fire always burns. For the fire to burn men must kill and eat.

And later in the book:
'We heard the drum,' Tarc said. 
'It is the hunters of Mamcala. They are in the forest above us.' He pointed up to the hill on the other side of the river. 

Caves... forest... hills... Like so many places in the book – such as Broken Mountain (Skirrid) and Curve River (River Wye) – I felt that I ought to know this one, and at the end of the book my suspicions were confirmed. It was King Arthur's Cave, high above the River Wye near Symonds Yat, on one of my favourite walks.

I'm rather pleased with this photo, taken today in Autumn sunshine that just appeared from behind the clouds at the right time. It really is a beautiful spot.

I apologise for looking as if I'm on sentry duty, guarding the cave from the hunters of Mamcala. Obviously it's a role that I feel necessary to fulfil for here I am, back in 2013... Relax, Angie dear, relax!

This is my good friend Lucy, exploring the cave depths during a recent visit. Sooner or later, all my friends get dragged off to this spot!

Though "The People of the Black Mountains" is a work of fiction, it is solidly based on facts that have been gleaned through decades of archaeological research. Probably the first person to seriously investigate these caves was the Revd William S Symonds. In his 1872 book "Records of the Rocks"  he tells of  the well-known cave dweller of modern days, "Jem the Slipper", under whose guidance I first visited the hyæna's den and the other caves. Were Jem around these days he would be welcoming a steady stream of visitors, including me on at least 6 occasions.

I used to think of Victorian amateur archaeologists as being little more than blundering treasure hunters. Certainly, they lacked the rigours demanded of modern-day archaeology, but Revd Symonds clearly took his work very seriously. Here's an extract from his book:

This Earth was about two feet in thickness. In it were discovered flint flakes and chips, with three pebbles unmistakably chipped by human workmanship. Two of these are of black chert, evidently formed from rolled pebbles, while the third has been chipped, and is a pebble of some Lower Silurian rock. I excavated with my own hands one of the cores of chert from which flakes had been struck, and the second was found by my companion at the time, Mr. Scobell. Associated with these were the teeth and jaw of a Bear, with those of the horse, and in Mrs. Bannerman's cave those of the
Beaver.

One lasting reminder of Revd Symonds' work is the heap of soil that he shifted to gain access to the caves. And somewhere here, near the large cave entrance, remnants were found of a hearth on which fires burned 12,000 years ago.

There is also the story of the great cave, of Mamcala, 

where the sacred fire always burns.