“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist”, Charles Baudelaire (1864)
Not far from Torquay Harbour, overlooking Torbay, is a limestone plateau 75 metres above the sea. At the base of the cliff is a cave formed when a slab of limestone fell into the sea. It is this cave that gave the plateau its name of Daddyhole Plain.
Daddy is the Old English for Devil and so we have the Devil’s Cave or Daddyhole. There are many Devil’s Holes across Europe and the United States, and they often have a reputation for uncanny occurrences. The Torquay example follows that precedent.
We know about our supernatural Daddyhole thanks to an anonymous female author in the middle of the nineteenth century.
During the early 1800s, ‘Torquay’ was developing at a rapid pace, being transformed from a small fishing village to an upmarket seaside resort. Newly arrived Victorians were intrigued by anything mysterious and so the author of the 1850 book ‘Legends of Torquay’ supposedly set off to recover traditional stories of the area before they were swept away by modernity.
One of the legends the writer claims to have been told was of the ‘Demon Hunter of Daddyhole Plain’.
The focus of the tale was Matilda, “a proud and beautiful maiden who dwelt in the valley yonder”. Matilda was in love, but the object of her affections loved another and she took the news badly.
As she walked on the cliffs at night in the misery of unrequited love, Matilda was confronted by “two savage hounds with eyes of fire”. Following was the Devil on a horse, referred to in the story as the Demon Hunter. Apparently, “The arch enemy of man had chosen Daddyhole Plain as a favourite hunting ground” and local villagers were familiar with the unearthly cries of his demon hounds at night.
On seeing the demonic trio Matilda promptly faints but wakes in the company of a strange and handsome man, the Devil now in human guise. He informs her that, “I come hither to bewail alone the grief of disappointed hope, and found you, fair maiden, lying senseless on the ground.”
Having speedily moved on from seeing the hellhounds and their infernal master, Matilda tells the stranger of her rejection. He comforts her with the words, “You have been made to suffer much. Revenge is sweet.” Clearly not being familiar with Christian tradition, she unwisely replies, “Revenge! I would barter my soul for to be revenged.”
Matilda and her new friend had many nocturnal liaisons, and she came to love him. Nevertheless, not having fully moved on, she remained filled with resentment for being rejected. With the stranger’s encouragement, Matilda finally snaps, ambushes the man who spurned her and stabs both him and his new partner to death as the sun set over Daddyhole, crying, “Mine! Mine for ever!”
At this point in the tale, the stranger reappears in his true form and carries Matilda over the cliff edge on his satanic steed, never to be seen again. You can, however, still hear Matilda crying above the sound of waves breaking against the cliffs at the dead hours of the night.
The legend doesn’t say how we know about this, if there were any witnesses, or who wrote them down for our moral instruction and entertainment.
Such stories of Devil’s pacts were common from the Middle Ages up to the seventeenth century, giving us some idea of a possible original date of the story.
But the core of the tale goes back even further. Deals with the Devil first appear in the fifth century, in the writings of St. Jerome. In the sixth century the story of Theophilus tells of a man who becomes the Devil’s servant and signs a formal pact. Perhaps the best-known example is of Faust, a scientist and alchemist who sells his soul to the demon Mephistopheles in exchange for lust and youth.
The Deal with the Devil is always a dangerous one, with eternal damnation for the foolhardy debtor. Typically, the victim is an ordinary person vulnerable to temptation. The Devil would appear, sometimes as a man and sometimes as an animal, and offer to help with some problem or desire. The person gives his or her soul in exchange for diabolical favours.
In Matilda’s case, however, she seems to have made a very poor deal, done the evil deed herself without much supernatural assistance, and received nothing in return.
These stories were widely publicised through pamphlets and portrayed the Devil as a trickster. They were also highly moral tales and used to reinforce social stability and order. In Matilda’s story, the message was a warning against jealousy and revenge.
The appearance of hellhounds at the Devil’s side is also part of a tradition. Throughout European mythology, dogs have been associated with death and are often the guardians of the underworld. They haunt lonely places such as gallows sites and crossroads, possibly prompted by their scavenging habits. Accordingly, it shouldn’t be a surprise that demon dogs turn up on a windswept plateau in Torquay.
Of course, the most famous evil hound of them all features in a book by Arthur Conan Doyle. In 1901 while on holiday with his friend Bertram Fletcher Robinson, Doyle was told about Devon’s local legends and was particularly interested in tales about ghostly hounds. Later Bertram took Doyle on a tour of Dartmoor. The rest is history.
Incidentally, the driver employed by Bertram was called Harry Baskerville. In November 1894, Henry ‘Harry’ Baskerville and Alice Perring married at the Wesley Church in Torquay. Bertram later gave Harry a copy of ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ that was inscribed, “To Harry Baskerville, with apologies for using the name.” Consequently, that Torquay driver’s name is now known throughout the world.
Would Conan Doyle have been aware of the Daddyhole hounds?
As a visitor to the Bay with a fascination for the occult, it’s certainly possible. He also lectured on his interest in Spiritualism at Torquay Town Hall where he complained that the bells of Upton Church were being rung to deliberately disrupt his speech.
So that’s the story of the Demon Hunter of Daddyhole Plain.
On the other hand, there are further possible origins of the myth.
One suggestion is that the story was just made up by a Torquay society and not a local legend at all. This claim is made in the 1868 quarterly scholarly journal Notes and Queries. The journal reports on this supposed folk tale and other well-known Devon legends, “They were each and all original whims of the moment and not reproductions of popular legends”.
If it was really told to our anonymous author, a wily local could have just made up some or part of the story. It isn’t unknown for rural folk to import, embroider or invent suitable stories to fit the expectations of generous middle-class researchers.
Indeed, it may be more than coincidence that the hugely popular 1796 Gothic novel ‘The Monk: A Romance’ by Matthew Gregory Lewis also has a character called Matilda. This Matilda was similarly a beautiful young woman. She possesses magical powers given to her by the Devil in exchange for her soul and loves a man who no longer cares for her.
Another suggestion is that smugglers would invent or spread such tales to keep the curious away from the cliffs at night while they carried on their profession uninterrupted.
But let’s give the original storyteller the benefit of the doubt.
And so, the next time you find yourself late at night at the edge of the Daddyhole cliffs, listen very carefully. You may be able to hear Matilda’s wails amidst the howls of the Demon Hunter’s hounds…
Torquay: A Social History by local author Kevin Dixon is available for £10 from Artizan Gallery, Fleet Street, Torquay, or:
https://www.art-hub.co.uk/product-page/torquay-a-social-history-by-kevin-dixon
