From Merthyr to Merther

I'm from St. Austell but I've always spent a lot of time in Truro, the only city in Cornwall. For a start, I was born there though I don't remember that bit of my life. But more recently; I went to Truro College, I volunteered in the Royal cornwall Museum in Truro for two years, I work in Truro and every now and again if there is to be a night out with friends...it usually happens in Truro.

All of this is to say that I've spent a lot of time on the roads between St. Austell and Truro and one small road sign always caught my attention...''Merther''. Easy to miss for most, I expect, the sign is tucked away in Tresillian, just off the A390 road. But I always noticed it, since I was a child and certainly when I was a teenager.

The reason? Almost all my family in Wales, including my Father and my Nan are from ''Merthyr'' in Wales. The name Merthyr was so familiar to me, it had always felt like a second home and I suppose it was. I have spent so much of my life in Merthyr Tydfil and Merthyr Vale; shopping, walking, spending time with family, playing as a child and even living there whilst I was in Cardiff University. But I was never able to visit the Cornish Merther so before it occurred to me or was possible to google it, I tucked away the thought of Merther into the back of my head to visit again later and, eventually, I did.

And I saw an abandoned church; so totally reclaimed by nature that the roof had completely fallen through, it was too dangerous to set foot inside the building and ivy covered the whole of the exterior.

I googled Merther before I learnt to drive and there was no way of reaching it with the limited Cornish public transport being unavailable on many windy country roads and Merther is hidden along one such road. But still, the idea of visiting this small little ivy covered church in an almost forgotten area of Cornwall lingered with me.

And when I recently passed my driving test and bought a car, one of the first places I visited was, you've guessed it, Merther and I was not disappointed.

St. Cohan Church, Merther

St. Cohan Church is a fascinating place and it's made all the more interesting due to how hidden it really is. The church, which was originally built in the 14th century (c. 1370) lies largely obscured along the side of a small windy country lane situated in miles of farmland. Claire Stocker (2014) in ''From Cathedral to Castle'' describes the location of the church as standing "at the end of an overgrown, poorly maintained windy lane about three miles from Tresillian, in the tiny hamlet of Merther - a settlement of no more than three houses and access to two or three farms". I saw two houses nearby and doubtless the residents look after the grounds as much as they can because there are various signs placed before the cemetery warning of the fragility of the building and the danger of entering it but the church is almost hidden away and almost totally forgotten.

This relatively small church used to be a place of significant local importance until the 20th century; when the areas neighboring the hamlet of Merther were less popular and populated people would travel miles to visit St. Cohan church for various services but with the building of larger and more stable churches in nearby villages and hamlets the need for the crumbling, unstable church in Merther dwindled more and more.

The tower covered in ivy

The last service took place in the middle of the 20th century because even then it had become ''a ghost of a church'' (1928) unable to fight off the elements due to lack of funding, interest and poorly built reconstructions. The need for a church in a tiny, unpopulated hamlet when there were larger and safer churches closer to many had reached zero and although St. Cohan church was never officially closed it was simply...left. This is a church that was originally built in the 14th century and tiny traces of its medieval origins can be seen peaking through the ivy.

There is a sadness and also a hope to this lovely, irretrievable little church. The sadness lies in the fact that this one community centre where services, marriages and funerals were held has now been reduced to near nothing; a crumbling and hollow shell covered in ivy and hidden along a muddy road. A building that is hundreds of years old which could have held significance as a piece of architecture and a place of local significance. It is a lonely place; with its only real useful function being a small cemetery. The cemetery itself feels almost as abandoned as the church with many graves laying fallen and broken on the ground. Although many of the headstones seem to be from the 1800s, it still remains the truth that these were local people who once lived, loved, worked and died in the area and it is a sad thing to see their place of rest hidden and dilapidated.

The view from the road

However, the hope that Merther holds is that no matter what human build, no matter how old our buildings are and whatever social and communal significance they hold to us as people, nature does not pay attention and given half the chance will reclaim old sites and create something new from the ghosts. This is hopeful because it means that the damage of humanity on the landscape is not a permanent attack. And Merther has now become a unique and interesting place because of its abandonment, because from the outside it almost looks like a huge wide tree, because it is a testament to the primal power of the outside world.

a window looking inside

So although, this is a place where you can only reasonably hope to spend a half hour at most, I am still so happy that one Merthyr brought me to another more hidden Merther. It was a peaceful place, sad but not creepy. I don't think this should be a place that every tourist marks on their map; it's difficult to get to and relatively small but for me it was a special place and I am glad that I finally was able to visit it and no doubt I will visit it again.

entrance to the church

Merthyr in Welsh is generally understood to mean ''Martyr'' and perhaps a female martyr at that, Merther likely means the same and of course this makes sense with a holy site on the land. One cannot draw a direct comparison to martyrs and this church because of course the reasons this church was left to decay are not that it holds particular religious belief but simply because there were other places of worship available and no money to keep this one alive. But I like to think of St. Cohan Church of Merther as a small sacrifice of human work and community to show us how humble we are, how small humans are in comparison to the big wider world.

Thank you Merthyr and Merther.

And thank you for reading.