Discovering Trelaske House from Lewannick 23.07.26

A little wandering on the outskirts of Lewannick led them to the remains of the original Trelaske House.   Hidden amongst brambles and summer growth were fragments of walls, old garden boundaries and stone steps  that climbed upwards leading to more walls, iron gates winded with time and the unreachable beyond. Enchantment flooded the landscape like an opening chapter of Maleficent.   They peered hard but could not see past the shadows nor did they choose to trespass beyond that which had been graciously offered already. 

Although the day possessed that rare and reassuring quality of everything being exactly as it should, the route itself seemed intent on providing a challenge. Waymarkers had disappeared into thin air, kissing gates had been enthusiastically fortified with metal barriers, and a selection of feisty livestock monitored proceedings as though waiting for the chance to collectively 'embrace' them.

Whether these impediments were the work of overzealous landowners (Duchy of Cornwall, no less) a local campaign against ramblers, or simply a test of character was impossible to determine. The map's carefully plotted route quickly dissolved into negotiation, improvisation and, on at least one occasion, something perilously close to gymnastics. Yet there was a certain charm in being led astray. Driven from the prescribed path, they wandered into forgotten corners of the landscape, uncovering quiet relics and half-hidden echoes of the past that would otherwise have escaped notice.

The house itself was demolished in 1959 following the death of Philip Archer, whose family had owned the estate for generations. But the history runs deeper than first appears. Before the Archer family, Trelaske belonged to the Upton family, whose name survives nearby at Upton Castle: the ruined medieval fortress they explored only a few weeks ago. Walking amongst the remains of Trelaske, it was fascinating to realise that the stories of these places are woven together across centuries and that through their explorations, pieces join together creating the patchwork of history they care to jump into at every opportunity.

Today Trelaske House survives only in pieces, appearing unexpectedly through gaps in the foliage as though playing a long and patient game of hide-and-seek.  Photographing it proved almost impossible. Every promising view acquired a branch. Every gap in the greenery closed at exactly the wrong moment. The ruins seemed determined to remain slightly mysterious. 

Yet Trelaske turned out to be only one chapter in Lewannick's story. They had discovered, inside St Martin's Church, the scale of that story became rather larger. The church is full of things that encourage lingering. There are memorials, vivid stained glass windows,  beautiful woodcarvings by Violet Pinwill (prominent wood carver during the arts and crafts movement) and reminders of the Archer family whose estate once dominated the surrounding landscape.  Impressively, the church was rebuilt within months of a devastating fire in 1890,  reflecting the value placed on having the building in full working order by the community around it.   But it was the ancient stones that held their attention. One of them bears an inscription in Ogham, an early Celtic script formed from lines cut into stone. To modern eyes it looks almost like a code, a series of marks and notches left behind by somebody whose world has long disappeared. The extraordinary thing is its age.

The grand house at Trelaske survived for a few centuries before disappearing. Entire families came and went. Gardens flourished and faded. Yet a handful of carefully carved lines have quietly outlasted them all. It gave the afternoon an unexpected sense of perspective. The ruined house, fascinating though it was, suddenly felt almost recent.

By the time they returned to Lewannick, neither felt they had finished with the place. There were still paths unexplored, corners unseen and stories left untold. The search for Trelaske House had uncovered something far more interesting: a lost house hidden amongst the trees, a church holding memories from fifteen centuries ago, and the pleasant realisation that some places reveal themselves slowly, one layer at a time.

A wonderful July adventure.