I wrote 3-book series The Dragondah Mysteries to try and entertain my young readers, of course. To draw them into the world of a feisty 11-year-old schoolgirl and to make them sympathise with her many frustrations, root for her hard-fought successes, wince when she pushed her luck once too often, and worry that she’d never solve the mystery behind her new home in Cornwall.
Part of me though wanted kids to realise that, if they lift their heads up from their smartphones for a moment, there are entertaining things in the real world too. Even in boring old England! That’s why you don’t get to the rural backwater of Dragondah via a portal or a wardrobe or a magical spell or by clicking your heels.
Londoners, for example, would get there by driving along the M4 and M5 motorways in a south-westerly direction, perhaps stopping off at a tried and trusted service station for a reviving cuppa or five-cheese toastie. Only 200 miles later would these committed urbanites start experiencing a world that might be a tad less familiar to them. Empty roads winding through desolate moorlands. Sleepy villages encircled by patchwork fields. Huge stones placed on hillsides by what appears to be giant hands. And soaring cliffs leading down to surf-drenched coves.
And, of course, every Cornwall-set novel worth its salt takes full advantage of these picturesque, and suitably dramatic, landscapes. Indeed, my fictional place of Dragondah was very much based upon the real place of Tintagel. And not just because this sprawling seaside village about an hour’s drive from Truro comes with the requisite turquoise seas, rocky coves, and panoramic views.
No, Tintagel has got something far more than spellbinding coastal scenery. It’s got a Dark Ages backstory that has spawned everything from a Wagner opera and a Rossetti painting to a Tennyson poem and a Lerner and Loewe musical. Oh, yes – cough, cough – and three Jackie Loxham fantasy adventure stories. So, it’s probably best not to mention that the King Arthur legend might not, well, be, what you might call, true.
Not that I knew anything at all about Tintagel’s inspirational (if rather controversial) role in English history despite being a born-and-bred Brit with a pretty decent education that involved history lessons (usually about Otto von Bismarck), poetry lessons (most memorably about T.S. Eliot) and school trips (although they were all about climbing mountains while scoffing Kendal mint cake).
I didn’t even know how to pronounce Tintagel, happily calling it ‘tinta-gel’ rather than tin-taj-el with a soft ‘g’ and the emphasis on the middle syllable*. It was only about eight years ago that I happened upon a photograph of some 13th century castle ruins perched upon a rocky ‘islet’ looking out over the north Atlantic coast of Cornwall.
According to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s ‘History of the Kings of Britain’, the castle that had originally stood on this promontory had been the home of Uther Pendragon, the 5th century King of the Britons and Arthur’s rather forceful father. Indeed, word was that King Arthur was conceived in that clifftop stronghold in circumstances that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Game of Thrones episode. Little wonder a certain wizard named Merlin, who was conveniently hanging out in the sea cave directly beneath the castle, decided the young Arthur needed a more suitable mentor and that he was the one to mentor him.
And while Geoffrey of Monmouth’s version of events may not stand the test of time, I like to think there was at least a kernel of truth in his 12th century writings. Certainly, most people agree that the settlement on the Tintagel headland was the seat of Cornwall’s Dark Age rulers, as well as a key trading settlement with the rest of the world. Although even more intriguing was a 6th century artefact unearthed on an archaeological dig back in 1998. The so-called ‘Artognou stone’ includes the letter ‘A’ cut into the rock next to the image of a large cross and a Latin inscription.
And if you were to visit Tintagel during the high season today (like about 200,000 other people each year), it’s delightfully easy to immerse yourself in Arthur’s legendary world. Amongst other things, you can have your photo taken next to an 8ft.high bronze sculpture of the king, and you can reach his island home via a rather spectacular modern footbridge. And you can also run your hands over the ancient stones, breathe in the incredible sea views, step inside that rather damp and fetid sea cave, and be inspired to write a children’s fantasy adventure story. Exactly like I did.
• Just so you know, Dragondah also has the emphasis on the middle syllable and is pronounced Dra-gon-dah rather than Dragon-Dah! The Dragondah Mysteries are available either in print or ebook form. Click here to purchase.