[Spoiler alert – don’t read on if you do not wish to have the major plot-twist of Jamaica
Inn by Daphne du Maurier revealed to you.]
“Bodmin is the greatest and wildest stretch of moorland
in Cornwall … I came unprepared for its dark, diabolic beauty. People say that
my fictional characters seem to emerge from the places where my stories are
set, and certainly when I first set eyes on the old, granite-faced inn itself
it made me think there was a story there, peopled with moorland folk in strange
harmony with their background.”
So wrote Daphne du Maurier (in Daphne du Maurier’s Cornwall) about the Jamaica Inn, a moorland pub/hotel
located in a hamlet called Bolventor which is just off the A30 in the middle of
Bodmin Moor, about mid-way between Launceston and Bodmin (both of which have at
some point served as Cornwall’s county town). It’s about a mile away from
Dozmary Pool, a small lake which some say was the lake where King Arthur
received his sword Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. But I digress; back to the
Jamaica Inn. Although much altered over the years (it’s been renovated
considerably since du Maurier’s time), the current building dates back to
around 1750 although there’s been an inn on the site since at least the 1540s,
serving as a staging-post for the changing of horses on stagecoaches travelling
on the London-to-Penzance road which, as the A30, went straight through
Bolventor until a by-pass was built in the 1970s. I cannot say what it is like as a pub, for I, like many a traveller in the West Country, have only ever used it as a brief stopping-point on the way home, as a last place to get a coffee and a few Cornish souvenirs before heading back across the Tamar.
It is, of course, famous today for being the main venue
for Daphne du Maurier’s famous novel Jamaica
Inn. Daphne du Maurier first visited the Jamaica Inn in the early 1930s at
the suggestion of a friend of hers, Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch – a prolific
writer, known as ‘Q’, best remembered today for being the editor of The Oxford Book of English Verse. She
ended up going there with Q’s daughter, and while staying there they decided to
ride a few miles across the moor to visit someone. Unfortunately the weather
turned, and in rain and fog they got lost – in the end, they resorted to
leaving the reins loose and hoping that the horses would lead them back to the
inn, which they eventually did.
It was her stay at the Jamaica Inn that inspired her to
write the novel of the same name, her second, which was published in 1936. In early
nineteenth-century Cornwall, Mary Yellan, a farm girl from Helford in the
south-west of the county, goes to live with her aunt and uncle after the death
of her mother. Her uncle, Joss Merlyn (who she has never met before) is the
landlord of the Jamaica Inn, and even before Mary gets there on “a cold grey
day in late November” we readers get the impression that all is not well at the isolated roadside inn.
The coachman initially refuses to go beyond Bodmin, and it’s only after Mary
tells him that she’s the landlord’s niece that he is reluctantly persuaded to
take her there, and he’s very cagey as to why (“Jamaica’s got a bad name …
Respectable folk don’t go to Jamaica any more”).
Strange things are indeed happening at Jamaica which, despite being on the main road, has no passing trade. Joss Merlyn is a violent drunkard (although,
as he points out during one of his drinking-sessions, “I’m not drunk enough to
tell you why I live in this God-forgotten spot”; that comes later), while his
wife – the sister of Mary’s late mother – is a timid, almost ghost-like figure.
The only activity is at night, when horse-drawn waggons occasionally arrive to
unload vast amounts of goods at the inn (the passage in which Mary witnesses
this from her bedroom window is particularly good). Then there’s the late-night
drinking-session that occurs when strange men come from all over Cornwall, and which
ends with Joss Merlyn ordering the murder of one of the men. Mary assumes that
her uncle is heavily involved in smuggling – with the inn being used to store
contraband that’s been landed all over the county – but it is actually worse
than that. For Uncle Joss is not involved in smuggling but wrecking – the act
of deliberately luring ships onto the rocks of the northern Cornish coast, and
then murdering survivors and stealing whatever the ships are carrying.
Meanwhile, there’s Bodmin Moor itself, for this is a tale
as much of a place as it is of people. All around Jamaica Inn and its nefarious
goings-on is the brooding presence of the moor – “a silent, desolate country …
vast and untouched by human hand; on the high tors the slabs of stone leant
against one another in strange shapes and forms, massive sentinals who had
stood there since God first fashioned them”. Like her creator, Mary Yellan goes
for a walk out on the moor – she gets lost, and is saved (more or less) by the
local vicar.
Ah, the vicar. The Reverend Francis Davey, who happens to
be an albino, is the vicar of the nearby village of Altarnun (like the Jamaica Inn, a real
place, located in the north-eastern edge of Bodmin Moor). He comes across as
being a kindly man, but all is not what it seems. For it is the vicar who is
the real villain of Jamaica Inn, the unlikely
brains behind Joss Merlyn’s brawn. He’s only revealed as the leader of the wreckers towards the end, of course, after Mary finds a picture of his in which he
depicts himself as a wolf preaching to his congregation who are shown as sheep.
I really enjoyed Jamaica
Inn, even though reading it ‘blind’ – not knowing who the real villain of
the piece is – is difficult, as the story is so well-known. Would I have seen
that twist towards the end coming had I not already known that the vicar was the bad guy? It’s
impossible to say. I’d’ve liked to have seen more characterisation of said
villain, though, but that’s not really possible when his true identity is
revealed so late in the novel (and, as we shall see, revealing him as the
baddie-in-chief earlier would’ve ruined the whole thing). Part of me wonders if it might have worked better had du Maurier made Mary Yellan the narrator rather than telling the story in the third person. From my own
perspective, though, the main thing I was wondering about was how the evil vicar compares to
another fictional man of the cloth who turns out to be heavily involved in
activities of a nocturnal and highly illegal nature.
I refer, of course, to Doctor Syn. How does the Vicar of
Altarnun measure up against the Vicar of Dymchurch? It’s rather hard to say,
for Doctor Syn (similarly not revealed as the smuggler leader until close to
the end of the original novel in which he appeared) got to return in six adventures
that fill out his considerable back-story – for which we readers must be
thankful that Russell Thorndike’s acting career did not pan out as he’d hoped,
forcing him back to writing novels. Daphne du Maurier, of course, was (unlike Thorndike)
a novelist first and foremost, and she never saw any reason to return to the
characters of Jamaica Inn (although
it would be great to have had a sequel about how Mary’s relationship
with Jem Merlyn pans out after they leave Cornwall at the end). Plus, of
course, it is easier to make a smuggler leader into a sort-of hero (in a Robin
Hood way) than it is a wrecker leader, given how the latter activity involves a
lot of cold-blooded murder (or did it? This, I feel, is something that should
be explored in greater depth in another ‘Historic English crime’ piece!). So, as
far as the Reverend Davey is concerned, he’s a more out-and-out
villain than the Reverend Doctor Syn for that reason, but we have just a few hints at how a man of God came
to be the leader of a gang of wreckers: “I am a freak in nature and a freak in
time. I do not belong here, and I was born with a grudge against this age, and
a grudge against mankind. Peace is very hard to find … I thought to find it in
the Christian Church, but the dogma sickened me”. There are also hints at an
obsession with paganism which might, if dealt with in any more depth, tie in
with the elemental nature of the moor (“I have stood in the church at midnight,
Mary, and listened to the silence; there is a murmur in the air and a whisper of
unrest that is bred deep in the soil and has no knowledge of the church and Altarnun”),
but no more. At the end, the Reverend Davey remains a bit of an enigma, just
like Rachel
in My Cousin Rachel. And it’s the
enigmatic bit that makes Daphne du Maurier’s characters linger in the memory
long after you’ve finished reading her books.
Even the ones you already know about, for Jamaica Inn has been adapted several times.
Unfortunately, a couple of the more high-profile adaptations haven’t been
particularly good, with the film and TV people failing to do the novel justice.
There was that BBC adaptation back in 2014, which didn’t go down too well
thanks to the almost-inaudible dialogue; the 1983 ITV version, with Jane
Seymour as Mary Yellan and Patrick McGoohan as Joss Merlyn, is much better. And
then, back in 1939, there was the Alfred Hitchcock version.
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