Saint Nectan

Foxglove - Pam Brophy [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

[The Christian Nectan was the eldest of a royal house in Wales in the sixth century, or so the legend goes. It was said that he felt the calling of the ascetic life of a hermit, and so set his coracle onto the sea and aloud the Lord to take him where he would. The wind and waves pushed him hither and thither, before finally setting him down safely on the rugged north Devon shoreline, near Hartland (a minor miracle in its self, given the fierceness of that storm blighted peninsular). It was here that he built is Hermits hut by the well that bares his name. Seeing his absolute poverty a kindly local farmer by the name of Huddon gifted Nectan two cows, ostensibly in return for helping him locate some lost pigs.

One day Nectan found his cows gone, and by following their hoof marks soon overtook the thieves who where in the process of stealing them. Seeing nothing more than a week skinny hermit the thugs knocked him down and killed the Saint. It is said that where ever the Saints blood flowed foxgloves grew. Nectan became so venerated that 500 or so years later a total of 39 churches where erected and dedicated to the Welsh Saint (34 in Cornwall and 5 in Devon)

- Thanks to Ann from Ideford for forwarding me this story, probably written by a former vicar of Ashcombe (though here retold in my own words). She added that next Sunday (the 13th of June) the people of Ashcombe Church will be celebrating Saint Nectan, it being the nearest Sunday to his day (he is the saint to whom their church is dedicated). They will also sing a hymn about the Saint, written by the same Vicar who put the above story to paper.

I have a few years ago also been told this story by a north Devon resident, who adds to the story, saying that not only was the saints head cut off, but he then picked it up and carried it under his arm back to his well, dripping blood and conjuring foxgloves for 2 or 3 miles. She had part of an old green lane running across the back of her overgrown orchard (we estimated from the age of the age and uncared for nature of trees and the spread of bluebells from the bank it had been abandoned for around 40 years - having been told bluebells spread one meter every ten years!). The lane, though hard to use, did indeed contain masses of foxgloves, despite the overgrown hedges.]

Map - Hartland
Map - Ashcombe