Saint Augustine's Well

The Holy Well at Cerne Abbas

HOLY WELLS AND SPRINGSCERNE ABBAS

8/10/20244 min read

Cerne Abbas is best known for its rather naughty chalk giant who bares all on the hills above the village, but it’s also the site of one of Dorset’s holy wells, or rather, holy springs. Known as Saint Augustine’s Well, Saint Austin’s Well, The Silver Well, or Cerne Abbas Well, this sacred site nestles in a little dell off to the side of the graveyard of Saint Mary’s church, the site of the former Abbey.

The origins of the ancient well are disputed, and even the same stories have several variations, so here’s my pick of the narratives, with some sources for further reading below. The legend that invokes Saint Augustine says that when the saint and his band made their way into Dorset as part of their mission from Pope Gregory the Great to re-evangelise Britain, Augustine met with some shepherds who complained that they had neither water nor beer. Augustine asked what they would prefer, and they said water, so he struck the ground and a spring came forth. Another version is that, after winning over the reluctant Wessex pagans, Augustine struck his staff on the ground to bring forth water to baptise them.

However, most historians agree that the Augustine legend was an ‘upgrade’ that the monks of Cerne Abbey concocted to elevate the prestige of their well by associating it with more famous saints. (It seems to me that the fact the shepherds did not ask for beer cast doubt on the veracity of the account…) Its more likely origins invoke a humbler, native saint of the 9th century, Eadwold/Edwold, a member of the Mercian royal family who become a holy man. Apparently, ‘Edwold was told in a vision to travel to Silver Well; when he came to Cerne, he gave silver pennies to a shepherd in return for bread and water, and the man showed him the well, which he recognised as fulfilling the vision’ (from ‘Dorset Holy Wells’ by J.M. Harte). Eadwold lived in a hermitage nearby until his death ca. 900. A century later, Cerne Abbey was founded near the site.

It is reputedly the only well in Dorset to have had a shrine (to Saint Augustine) built over it, presumably demolished along with the abbey at the dissolution of the monasteries during Henry VIII’s reign. Perhaps the ongoing excavations of the abbey site will throw light on this question.

Although I did not remember to count them, there are supposed to be eleven (or twelve) trees on the way to the well, representing the eleven faithful apostles (or the whole bunch). Maybe the fact they are not in a neat avenue makes it hard to decide which ones count. Part way through the churchyard you veer off and down a short slope into the peaceful, shaded grove that homes the spring, which trickles down a stone channel and through to the meadow beyond. The lightest of human touches lets nature weave a green chapel over the water. An altar-like bench sits behind the spring, with another to the side for weary pilgrims, or those who wish to sit and pray or contemplate. Ribbons, some so dark with age they are barely visible among the branches, hang from the tangle of shrubs behind the spring: petitions, thanksgivings or venerations.

The water is pure, sweet even, to the taste, and wonderfully refreshing after a climb to see what the Cerne Abbas Giant looks like up close (spoiler – disappointing). Freshwater shrimp flick through the spring. Apparently, the spring can go stagnant in the summer, but this July (2024), after Britain’s torrential rains, it was crystal clear.

Naturally, there are many customs associated with the well. It is linked to healing and health, especially of eyesight; another legend says that it was thought propitious to dip new-born babies in its waters. Other lore says the waters are a fertility aid, a link (or rival) to the legend of the Cerne Abbas Giant.

The well is also a source of divination. If you look into the water on Easter morning, the story goes, you will see the faces of those who will die in the coming year.

Finally, it is a traditional wishing well. Girls can drink from the water and pray to Saint Catherine for a husband (Saint Catherine’s chapel was formerly nearby, and a Catherine wheel is carved into one of the stones at the well). If you are not looking for a husband, try this method: ‘if you pluck a laurel leaf near by and make it into a cup and dip it in the well, then stand and face the church and drink the miraculous water and wish something that your heart desires – wish silently and keep the wish secret – in time your wish will come true’ (Dorset Up Along and Down Along, pp. 65-66). Out of curiosity, my son and I followed their instructions, plucking a bay leaf from one of the several trees in the churchyard. I’ll let you know if my wish ever comes true.

Be all this as it may, as the sign on the churchyard wall concludes, ‘Whatever its history, the well is, in its own right, a holy place, full of peace and quiet. Be still for a moment and take some of its peace with you into a busy world.’