The Papermakers of Tuckenhay

The old papermill at Tuckenhay

The gravel track that wound uphill by the side of Tuckenhay Mill was marked as an 'Unmetalled Road'. I wasn't sure what was meant by unmetalled, but I've since learnt that an unmetalled road is a bare earth or grass track that has no surface covering, (whereas a metalled road has a concrete or asphalt surface.) My car's exhaust may not have appreciated the narrow country lanes and unmetalled roads of the South Hams district of Devon - and ultimately it showed its displeasure by working loose from its corroded bracket - but we humans had a perfect week this summer tucked away in Tuckenhay, the tiny hamlet on the south bank of Bow Creek, just a few miles from Totnes, on the estuary of the Harbourne River which flows into the River Dart.

There are a few theories about how Tuckenhay got its name. The most prosaic is that it's named after Joshia Tucker who built the quays here in 1806. A more poetic version is that it comes from the process of 'tucking hay', or tucking textiles. Little over a century ago, this tranquil place was a bustling centre of industrial activity where lime, corn, malt, rope, cider and road-building materials (no doubt for metalling roads) would be loaded on to merchant ships. Among the cargo would be paper made by Millbourn's paper mill, whose imposing and rather beautiful building still dominates the village, though nowadays it provides holiday accommodation rather than paper.  

At the mill, high quality paper and parchment was produced, much of it by hand, from rag pulp. This superior quality paper was used for legal deeds, cheques and banknotes for Jamaica and Cyprus. At one time the mill employed a hundred people, including the skilled papermakers for whom our holiday cottage (and the rest of the little terrace of houses) was originally built in 1900; (a further two houses were added to the terrace after the First World War.) Papermaking was a highly skilled certified craft and papermakers from North Wales and from Kent moved to take up residence and employment in Tuckenhay.

It's claimed that the proclamation for the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II was read from paper produced at Tuckenhay. Yet, despite its proud heritage of quality production and skilled craftsmanship, the mill eventually closed in 1970.  The elderly lady who was our neighbour for a week told me she grew up in Tuckenhay and her family had worked at the paper mill. She had moved away when she married, and then moved back here again to care for her parents as they grew older. Now she and her husband remain in the shade of the mill, "rooted" (in the words of WB Yeats) "in one dear, perpetual place", while transient holidaymakers like us come and go.

The Maltsters Arms

Apart from being, officially, an Area of Outstanding Beauty in its own right Tuckenhay - with its proximity to the lovely towns of Totnes and Dartmouth and to Agatha Christie's former home of Greenway (now a National Trust property) - is a perfect centre for a peaceful holiday. And if you want to go easy on your exhaust pipe, and enjoy some real ale, there are not one but two excellent riverside pubs within easy walking distance. Our favourite was The Maltsters Arms, an 18th century inn that is as popular now with holidaymakers as it must have been with all those 19th century paper mill workers.

Most evenings we would walk to The Maltsters and enjoy being in the riverside beer garden drinking local Otter Ale. But other people would arrive in canoes or sailing boats and, one evening, we watched as a little boy came alongside the pub in a kayak and joined a school-friend at the table next to us.

"Where's your mum?" asked the mother of the boy's friend.

"Oh, she's following along in a bit," he explained.

And sure enough, his mum turned up a few minutes later on a paddle-board. Just imagine having a mum who follows you to the pub on her paddle-board. It left me pondering how different life might have been if we had brought up our family in an area like this: our children would probably have grown up to be confident in the outdoors and on the water, my wife could have been an enthusiastic paddle-boarder instead of an irrepressible cyclist and I ...well, I would be a happy pub-goer, impoverished by constantly having to replace my car's exhaust pipe.