Hither, a thousand years and more ago, rode Radulphus de la Pomerio, lord of the Norman Castle of the Orchard; for William I. was generous to those who helped his conquests. Radulphus, as the result of a hero's achievements at Hastings, won eight-and-fifty Devon lordships, and of these he chose Beri, "the Walled town," for his barony, or honour.
Forward we may imagine him pressing with his cavalcade, through the wooded hills and dales, until this limestone crag and plateau in the forest suddenly opened upon his view, and the Norman eagle, judging the strength of such a position, quickly determined that here should his eyrie be built. For it was a stronghold impregnable before the days of gunpowder.
So the banner with the Pomeroy lion upon it was set aloft on the bluff, and soon the sleep of the woods departed to the strenuous labour of a thousand men. There is a great gap in the hill close at hand that shows whence came these time-worn stones, when a feudal multitude of workers were set upon their task. Then, grim, squat and stern, with a hundred eyes from which the cross-bow's bolts might leap, arose another Norman castle, its watch-towers and great ramparts wedged into the woods and beetling over the valley beneath. It sprang from the solid rock, dominated a gorge, and so stood for many hundred years, during which time the descendants of Ralph exercised baronial rights and enjoyed the favour of their princes. The family, indeed, continued to prosper until 1549, but then disaster overtook them and they disappeared, disgraced. It was during this year that Devon opposed the "Act for Reforming the Church Service." Tooth and nail she resented the proposed changes; and among the malcontents there figured a soldier Pomeroy, now head of his house, who had fought with distinction in France during the reign of Henry VIII. Like many another military veteran since his time, he assumed an exceedingly definite attitude on matters of religion, and held tolerance a doubtful virtue where dogma was involved. Him, therefore, the discontented gentlemen of the West elected their leader, and, after preliminary successes, the baron lost the day at Clist Heath, nigh Exeter. He was captured, and only escaped with his life. He kept his head on his shoulders, but Berry Pomeroy became sequestrated to the Crown.