Tales Of Dartmoor

One sunny summers day a moorland farmer was busy in his fields when the yard boy came rushing up, clearly he was excited about something. “Master, Master,” he yelled, “the piskies be a threshin’ in the barn, threshin I tell ee.” The farmer straightened he old back with a groan, …

Back in the long lost time when moorfolk believed in the power of the piskies there lived an old tin miner called Hugh Plymswode. For most of his life he had earned a meagre living from streaming for tin in the cold waters of the river Erme. Poor old Hugh …

Many, many years ago a farmer from the Dartmoor borders was working in one of his fields when one of his labourers came rushing up, he was breathless and excited and had just ran all the way from the farm. It appeared that when the man went passed the big …

Some nights when out on the moor it’s possible to see or hear a herd of ponies thundering across the open wastes, the snorts and whinny’s suggest that they are running scared. At first it may seem that they are stampeding at a reckless pace but if the moonlight is …

There is a tradition on Dartmoor that one of the numerous tricks that the piskies like to play on the moorfolk was/is to creep into their stables or paddocks at night and steal the horses or ponies. The prank was then to ride them hard all night which naturally scared …

What happened was, many years ago, an old nurse dwelt in a small village on the very edge of Dartmoor. Although getting on in years she was still a sprightly old dame who lived on her own in a small tidy cottage. The local folk would often call on her …

Even today there can be problems walking across Dartmoor, mist, rain and snow to name but a few, however it wasn’t that long ago that another peril could have been added to that list – piskies. There are several tales on this website about people getting ‘piskie led’ on Dartmoor …

I have recently had a couple of emails from people who are coming to Dartmoor for their holidays and have expressed an amount of concern about the phenomenon known as being ‘Piskie Led’. Firstly they wanted to know if it the stories they had heard were true, secondly if it …

What happened was incredible and beggars belief. A long, long time ago an old moorman had been doing a spot of poaching down in the valley of the West Okement. It was a still night and a full moon lit the moor with its translucent blue beams. The old man …

Now I am assured this is a true story by a kind gentleman who now lives in Australia and was told him by his grandmother whose family originally came from up on Dartmoor. It concerns an old lady who the villagers used to call,  ‘Mother Pink Brolly’, she used to …