Tag Archives: Dartmoor

“The little granite church upholds Four pinnacles like holy hands, A missioner proclaiming God To ancient unbelieving lands. Long time it dared the indifferent hills Childlike, half frightened, all alone, Lest chink of matin bell offend The mother of its quarried stone. Now it is proven and at peace, Yet …

No matter whether the old year had been kind to folk or if it was one best forgotten they have always celebrated the transition from one year to the next. Many of the customs and traditions have centred around either attracting good fortune for the coming year or not doing …

Down through the centuries ‘May Day’ has always been a significant day in the calendar with celebrations held in most of the Dartmoor towns and villages. The roots of May Day can be found deep into the pagan beliefs in the form of Beltane which  occurs from the 30th of …

‘Then was the Scold herself, In a wheelbarrow brought, Stripped naked to the smock, As in that case she ought: Neats tongues about her neck Were hung in open show; And thus unto the cucking stool This famous scold did go.’ When delving into the ancient customs and traditions it …

Due to the climate and altitude there was not a lot of corn grown on Dartmoor and what was cultivated tended to be on the lower fringes of the moor. But where either wheat or barley was sown the old tradition of ‘Crying the Neck’ was observed at harvest time. …

If tors have feelings then Yes Tor must be pretty despondent, for centuries this majestic granite outcrop had been hailed as the highest place in Devon only, thanks to improved surveying techniques, to be relegated into second place by its close neighbour High Willhays. What made matters worse was that …

“Few of the Dartmoor heights are so situated as to show themselves to such advantage. On the right, a spur well clothed in dark fir plantations comes down from Brimpts; and on the left is a clitter of bold granite rocks. The time to visit this is certainly the evening, …

  “Scarce hoarier seems the ancient Wood Whose shivered trunks of age declare What scath of tempests they have stood In the rock’s crevice rooted there; Yet still young foliage, fresh and fair, Springs forth each mossy bough to dress, And bid e’en Dartmoor’s valleys share A Forest-wilderness“. Sophie Dixon …

High up on the north moor lies what was probably one of the remotest of the old Dartmoor tin mines. Today all that remains are some ruins, spoil heaps, and if you look very carefully a small, overgrown, reedy, gully that slopes down from the side of Okement Hill. Nearby …

“Such a vast bleak area of monotonous moorland, with scarce a house visible to cheer the solitude. Positively for miles you see no track of man on the moor. On the road across it we came to a small inn, where the horses were baited. Its name was ‘The Warren’ …