Now legend would have it said that the mysterious ancient oak grove of Wistman’s Wood is infested with numerous supernatural beings such as the Wisht Hounds, Druids and ghosts along with the infamous Dartmoor Piskies. I think it would be fair to say that in these modern times many people still believe in ghosts and certainly there are Druids still following their pagan beliefs. But Piskies? well, they either have vaporised into the deep realms of folklore or have migrated down into the dark caves and old tin mines of Dartmoor to dwell. But about one hundred and fifty years ago the ‘little folk’ were busy frolicking around the rugged tors and ferny combes of the moor. As Victor Meldrew would have said ‘I don’t beeelieeve it’? Well here is an account dating from the 1870s of a person who actually ‘saw‘ one in Wistman’s Wood.

“THE DWARF’S FOREST – WE have found the place where the wee grey men used to live (if ever they lived at all, which, strange to say, it seems there are people now found to doubt; but then everybody doubts about everything nowadays).
There is a great plateau of rugged, rocky, boggy moorland in the middle of Devon called Dartmoor, which stretches high and treeless over many thousand acres, and is singularly wild and barren. A number of round-shouldered valleys run up into it, worn by the action of the bright brown streams, large and small, many of which fall into the Dart. In one of the most secluded of these, far up in the heart of the hills, beyond all traces of man or cultivation, where the boulders of blue-grey granite are strewn on the steep bare hillside, and piled up here and there into fantastic tors, there nestles in among the stones a forest of lilliputian oak, fully grown, but only from four to ten feet high, with trunks two feet and more in diameter, looking old beyond description.
The wood ends at a tumbling, wild, dashing stream, rushing down from the central bog of the moor, which is almost impassable; and the patches of moist treacherous ground about its banks, bright with green and yellow sphagnum, asphodel, and moss, are fringed with long sedge-rushes haunted by adders.
The moors were rich and brilliant in colour with their autumn tints, and the deep brown of the oaks and fern, the cold grey granite, and the purple heath were all melting into a soft blue distance. As we came up the combe, the trunks of the little trees looked generally about the height of a man, and mostly bigger round than his body; they were often hollow and decayed away, almost into soil. Strange, wicked-looking little antiquities they seemed, which might have been coeval with those prehistoric folk who used the flint weapons; and I hope had the nice little elephants, three feet high, ” like pigs with trunks,” to play with, whose bones have lately been discovered in some rocky caverns of probably a not much earlier date.
The soil is extremely shallow, and the branches all slope one way, driven by the fierce Atlantic gales, which are felt even in this inland spot, and which blow without a stick to stop them from America to Dartmoor. Shaggy, contorted, and bent, the tangled mats of boughs run out horizontally for ten or twenty feet, covered with tufts of feathery fern; while long grey beards of moss wave to and fro, and give a most weird look to the whole. One could believe in any amount of cluricaunes (Irish Fairy) and pixies dwelling in such a strange, haunted-looking forest; instead of which it had been taken possession of that day by much less picturesque people the statisticians, botanists, and geologists who came down upon it from the Exeter meeting of wise men.

I sat down alone amongst the queer little pygmies on the hillside ; the rest of the party had gone on to the Devil’s Tor. The dusk was beginning to fall, and I was very still, watching the young moon, which was rising over the valley, when suddenly it seemed to me as if the wee grey men must have come back again, for there certainly sat one in the shadow, where I was sure he had not been before; he must have come up out of the ground ! He was quite of the right height and colour, and was looking intently at me, as I could just see in the gathering gloom. Presently he slowly put up one short little arm, and then the other, and wiped his nose upon them as is much the habit of field-folk in Devon and elsewhere; perhaps pocket-handkerchiefs were scarce, too, among the little grey hill-men and then he remained motionless, and so did I. But I was meditating a rush in order to seize him by the waist, when, as is well known, if I could only keep my eye upon him he would have been obliged to show me where to dig for the crock of gold, or give up the little purse with the ever-renewed penny in it; the only difficulty being, that if he can but cajole you into once turning your head the spell is broken and he invariably vanishes. I was measuring my distance, when his great suspicious eyes shone, it seemed to me, even in the dusk, and suddenly he came down on all fours, and drummed violently with his hind legs upon the ground, as a signal of danger; for there was a very distant noise of voices, which he heard long before I did. Alas! He was only a coney, who had made his dwelling  among the rocks; set, however, in a post of much dignity and responsibility, as sentinel to a large colony of friends and relations, who ordered their out-comings and in-goings according to the telegraphic thumps which he delivered for their guidance. And then the outside car drove back again down the steep hillside, and I heard a voice say, “You must make haste, Tomkins, or we shan’t be in time for the express from Plymouth.” We were in full nineteenth century again, and cluricaunes, and pixies, and Pucks all vanished as I reluctantly turned away.
Still, as we drove slowly along the rough heath track, I looked back regretfully, and saw the rising moonlight, though the sun had not yet quite disappeared, lying softly and tenderly upon the grey
hillside, the grey stones, and the weird little dwarf forest, over which the night wind, which was beginning to rise, sighed with a hollow sort of music among the fern. And it somehow seemed to me as if the instant our backs were turned geologists, botanists, statisticians, and all – the little grey men came back again and took possession in spite of our scepticism; and it is my full conviction that they are all there now.
Go and see for yourselves. But you will not find them! Did you never look for a robber or a ghost behind a curtain? He is not there; but the moment you have gone once more to your seat he has got in again somehow, behind your back, and you cannot help returning to look again. Still he is never to be found. It is only the haunting sense of the unseen. ” Nature abhors a vacuum,” you know they say. That is the way, I feel sure, with the wee grey men in the lonely little Dwarfs’ Forest, commonly called Wistman’s, that is “Wise man’s,” or Wizard’s Wood, on Dartmoor.”

Lady Verney, 1877. Sketches From Nature,  London: Daldy & Isbister Co. pp. 171 -177.

Imagination is a fine thing, especially when in such a mysterious place but this does go to show how legends develop over the telling and as always there is a logical grain of truth in this story. Around about the time this visit would have taken place there would have been a rabbit warren near to Wistman’s Wood hence the encounter with one of its ‘coneys’

Imagine you are at Bridestowe and wanted to get to Wistman’s Wood how would you get there? Possibly ask some local advice or if you had a car consult one of the online route planners. These would provide you with a route that was 17.07 miles long and take about 29 minutes to get there. If you didn’t have car you could consult the bus timetables which would suggest getting a bus to Tavistock and then another to Two Bridges or if you were feeling really flush you may opt for booking a taxi? But would you ever consider walking there along a route that took you across the wild expanses of Dartmoor? Well, back in 1896 a party did exactly that staring off from the Fox and Hounds Inn (although today it’s known as the Fox & Hounds Hotel and Restaurant) at 11.30 am, and here’s their adventure.
“Official maps and other publications almost invariably call the great Devonshire upland “Dartmoor Forest”, but as a matter of fact very little of the actual moor is now covered by trees. The most famous spot is known as Wistman’s Wood, about four miles north east of Princetown. We determine to include it in our acquaintance with the moor, and select Bridestowe as our starting point. It is just half-past eleven as we emerge from the quaint old-fashioned Fox and Hounds Inn at Bridestowe and leave the beaten track, heading for Tavy Cleave. Passing between Bray (or Broad) Tor, surmounted by Widgery’s cross, and Arms Tor, we traverse fairly well know ground to the Tavy Valley, a fresh breeze tempting the sun’s rays inmost approvable fashion. We descend to the water at the picturesque point where the three valleys meet, and then plunge into the unknown by following the Tavy towards its source for some way.
The rivers and stream in this neighbourhood are jolly little chaps, and most accommodating. They are too big to be taken in a diving leap, but not too broad to be an effectual bar, and yet presenting just that spice of risk which makes the ford mildly exciting. We get across safely enough – which is more than a certain City Counsellor and Guardian of the Poor did on one occasion last year – and tramp along close to the gurgling rivulet, but the banks becoming declivitous we are under the necessity of scrambling up through a wealth of herbage to the higher ground. At a sharp turn of the stream is a little brook – the Redlake – and here we bid good-bye to the Tavy, and laying out the course by map and compass, strike into the heart of the moor. The long spell of dry weather has dried up all the morass; otherwise this tale had never been written. The grass is much greener and thicker than that we have hitherto passed, and numbers of birds start up as we trudge along till we again strike a stream, and here we pitch our camp in a lovely spot with backs against the heather-covered bank and with feet almost touching the sparkling water water in which the little brown moor trout dart anon almost like lightening, and anon lurk under the cool of a overhanging boulder; here, with no sign of man, with no indication of human presence or habitation we dispose of a well-earned meal. Yet neither this, or what we have passed over, or what lies infront of us can be called solitude.
We have a fairly extensive view as we carry out the duties of ministerers of the interior, but there is no vestige of woodland. Except where the purply grey granite appears, everything is green or ruddy – but short, fitting the panorama like a well cut garment.  Was it always thus, we wonder. Old chronicles have it that the moor was afforested by King John, and was the first brown as a forest. Did trees once flourish along the borders of this pretty stream, tumbling down from the hill at the foot of which we are resting? “Time gentlemen.” Yes, it is time; it is two of the clock, and though Kedar’s tents are attractive we must be afoot.
The compass directs over an extensive tableland which is entered in the Ordnance register as Walkham Head. The association of the word “walk” strikes us as peculiarly incongruous for the whole area is as unsuitable for pedestrians as can be imagined. Patches of grass and reed are divided by ditches of peaty mud, which the sun has partially dried and shrunk, leaving fissures in all directions gasping for moisture. In none but the driest weather would it be possible to cross this boggy plateau, into which one can easily drive a walking stick to the handle. It is just the sort of place suggested in connection with the old couplet – “He who cannot happy be with kind ladies by the fire. Deserves to be on Dartymoor a-stugged in the mire.”

But “bad lands” have limits and after a toilsome half hour we come to the River Cowsic, that of which gives us a magnificent view of the country beyond the high ridge we have been crossing. We note the very beginning of the Cowsic and bear a little to the left for Devil’s Tor, under whose crowning block of granite is a twelve-foot monolith known as Beardown Man, which readers of the Rev. S. Baring-Gould will probably remember. Still steering by the unerring compass we are not long in arriving within sight of our goal, and an insignificant affair it appears to be. The wood formerly extended for for about three quarters of a mile, but a decade ago a fire destroyed the greater portion of it, and now it consists of three separate portions, lying along the side of a granite strewn hill at the bottom of which the West Dart makes the best of its way among huge blocks of igneous rock lying about in all directions as if a company of giants had been playing marbles and had left their playthings in the middle of the game.
On the borders of the first section of “forest” is a keepers house – a lonesome and eerie place it must be in the winter, though pleasant enough now. The “Forest” trees are mostly oak, but none are over ten feet high, and the majority of them are under nine. They grow up from among a profusion of slabs and lumps of granite, and in their flourishing days must have presented a charming spectacle; now they are inferior to those which form the pygmy wood infringing Black Tor on the West Okement. Traces of the fire are evident on every side. Bare trunks – some of them absolutely indistinguishable in colour from the granite around and clear spaces tell their tale. That is plain to the eye; what we should have made equally clear is the history of the wood. One legend is that a Countess of Devon planted it; another that it was a Druidic headquarter, where elaborate and fantastic ceremony followed the discovery of the sacred oak mistletoe.
Resuming our journey, we pass Crockern Tor, on the top of which the Stannary Court used to be held, and a half-past four we find ourselves for the first time since half-past eleven on a road. We make for Two Bridges, situated just below the junction of the Cowsic and the West Dart. Why it is called two Bridges is not apparent since there is only one bridge, though that one has two spans. Double nomenclature seems to be popular here, for the hostelry sign reads – “Two Bridges Hotel (Saracen’s Head).” We opine that some returned Crusader must have brought the latter name to the place, possibly when he was astonishing the natives with some  true tale of his adventures, for it is not likely that the present day can claim a monopoly in that respect. We go into the hotel – merely out of curiosity’s sake of course – and find there two members of the Plymouth Pedestrian Club, and as our own walk is under the auspices of the Exeter Pedestrian Club, some interesting notes are exchanged. Then we set out to reel of the eight or nine miles to Tavistock, passing within a gunshot or two of Princetown Prison, and turning off the road at Merrivale to have a look at the hut circles and avenues, the work of our ancestors of two thousand years ago. It has been the most glorious day, and we catch the city-bound train with the satisfaction of having completed a walk which has embraced all the best features of the moor with the attraction of virgin ground thrown in.” – The Exeter Flying Post, July 4th, 1896.

Well, there you have it, a visit to Wistman’s Wood the long way around. There is a slight suggestion that the author was none to impressed with the place, especially after such a long jaunt? A couple of points – firstly King John nor Countess Isabella de Fortibus, the Countess of Devon planted the trees the origins of the wood date back much further than that. Secondly the “Keeper’s house” would have been the warrener’s house belonging to a small rabbit warren that once existed there. With regards to the Saracen’s Head confusion, the original name simply came from the fact that it was Sir Francis Buller who built the inn and on his coat of arms appeared a Saracen’s head – nothing to do with Crusaders at all. I would imagine at the time of this visit the establishment was undergoing a transition from an inn (the Saracen’s Head) into a hotel – the Two Bridges Hotel and was so worded to avoid any confusion.

 

“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 -1829.

PLEASE NOTE: DURING 2020/21 THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE VISITING WISTMAN’S WOOD HAS INCREASED DRAMATICALLY AND IN SOME CASES IRREPAIRABLE DAMAGE HAS BEEN DONE TO THE WOOD AND ITS FLORA. THE WOOD IS BUT ONE OF VERY FEW EXAMPLES OF AN ANCIENT OAK GROVE AND SHOULD BE RESPECTED AS SUCH. PLEASE THINK TWICE ABOUT ENTERING IT AND THE DAMAGE YOU MAY CAUSE – THANK YOU!

Nestled on the eastern slopes of the West Dart river stands a wood of dwarf oak trees. Once you walk into the tangled web of trees you are transported into a mystical world of moss carpeted boulders, lichens of all descript, finger like oak branches, all engulfed in a wonderful smell of earth and age. For millennia this small, mystical, stunted woodland has been held in awe and for many fear. Tales of Druids, ghosts, the Devil and a host of other supernatural creatures abound, some dating back to the long lost ages before man could write. Many writers have described the wood as being “the most haunted place on Dartmoor”, others warn that every rocky crevice is filled with writhing adders who spawn their young amidst the moss and leaf strewn tree roots. Locals will never venture near once the sun begins it slow descent over the nearby granite outcrops for it is when the dark mantle of night draws tight that the heinous denizens of the wood stalk the moor in search of their human victims. So be afraid, very afraid, as the wagging finger of fate warns you to stay clear and risk not your mortal soul in the ‘Wood of the Wisemen’.
Legend has it that Wistman’s Wood was a sacred grove of the Druid’s and it was here that they held there pagan rituals. The huge boulder in the title picture above has become known as ‘The Druid’s Stone’, otherwise called the ‘Buller Stone’. The wood is also said to be the kennels where the diabolical ‘Wisht Hounds‘ are kept. These are a pack of fearful hell hounds who hunt across the moors at night in search of lost souls and unwary traveller’s. It is said that they are huge black dogs with blood red eyes, huge yellow fangs and an insatiable hunger for human flesh and souls. It depends on what part of the moor you meet them but they are either led by the Devil or occasionally by the ancient spirit of Dartmoor known as ‘Old Crockern‘ who lives nearby on Crockern tor. There have been reports from travellers that on dark, misty nights the hounds can be heard howling and baying for blood. The wood is also said to be home to ‘hosts’ of adders who writhe and slither amongst the velvet moss covered boulders, their bites are apparently more venomous that any other adder on Dartmoor. Sometimes the small ghost of a dog called ‘Jumbo’ can be seen scurrying around the rocks and boulders in search of rabbits. At nights, the plaintive cries of the little terrier can be heard echoing down through the valley below. History has it that the poor dog died in the wood, from what nobody is sure but there is a strong possibility that it was from an adder bite. Some people say that the small oak trees never produce acorns but on the other hand people also say that if you carry an acorn from the Druid’s Grove it will protect from rheumatism. Near to the northern edge of the wood is the ancient Lych Way or ‘Way of the Dead’. It was along this track that the corpses were carried for burial at Lydford. There have been reports of a ghostly procession of monastic looking men dressed in white habits slowly walking by the oak wood in sombre silence.
For centuries Wistman’s Wood has been the inspiration for numerous artists and poets and a whole plethora of paintings, etchings and poems have been produced. The noted poet Carrington went into full flow when he penned the following drear lines:

How heavily
That old wood sleeps in the sunshine;- not a leaf
Is twinkling, not a wing is seen to move
Within it;- but, below, a mountain stream
Conflicting with the rocks, is ever heard,
Cheering the drowsy noon. The guardian Oaks,
My country, are thy boast – a giant race
And undegenerate still; but of this grove –
This pigmy grove, not one has climbed the air,
So emulously that its loftiest branch
May brush a traveller’s brow. The twisted roots
Have clasped, in search of nourishment, the rocks
And straggled wide, and pierced the stony soil:-
In vain, denied maternal succour, here
A dwarfish race has risen. Round the boughs,
Hoary and feeble, and around the trunks,
With grasp destructive, feeding on the life
That lingers yet, the ivy winds, and moss
Of growth enormous. E’en the dull vile weed
Has fixed itself upon the very crown
Of many an ancient oak; and thus, refused
By Nature kindly aid, – dishonour – old –
Dreary in aspect – silently decays
The Lonely Wood of Wistman!”

It is interesting to see what the early topographical writers had to say about Wistman’s Wood, one of the earlier descriptions comes from the Reverend J. Swete  and was written in 1797. It appears that he was not too impressed with the place:
“It is hardly possible to conceive any thing of the sort so grotesque as this Wood appears, with their branches just spreading themselves over the enormous blocks of granite among which they are intermingled; and their upper lateral roots twisted around their bases, and in the most fantastic wreathings insinuated, whereon a recess, or interstice offered themselves – from the visible decay of their branches, their having long ceased to produce acorns, and the encroachments of the Moss, their destiny seems to be near, and in the 4th part of a Century, they may be conceived to say “Actum est Nobis” – indeed this Moss, (in the common way so injurious to trees) must in the voluminous mass in which it is here found, have hastened on the ruin of the trees… Silence seemed to have taken up her abode in this sequestered wood – and to a superstitious mind some impression would have occurred approaching to dread, or sacred horror..” Swete, 2000, p.71.
From this diatribe one would possibly get the impression that he found the wood a bit daunting and maybe even a trifle un-nerving. Another author gave his views on Wistman’s Wood, writing in 1640, Tristram Risdon said: “In the Forest (of Dartmoor) are three remarkable things: the first a high rock, called Crocken Torr… the second is Childe’s of Plymstock’s tomb … The third is some acres of wood and trees, that are a fathom about, and yet no taller than a man may touch to top with his hand, which is called Wistman’s Wood”, Risdon, 1970, pp. 222 – 3.
Twenty six years later in 1836 Eliza Bray added what was to be a much repeated theory as to Wistman’s Wood, namely the Druidical context. She virtually devotes a whole chapter to the Druids on Dartmoor, much of it coming from the early antiquarian belief than the prehistoric ritual monuments on the moor were in fact the temples of the Druids. In this light she describes a visit to Wistman’s Wood accompanied by a moor farmer as her guide: “… on the south side, we find a spring of the clearest and the purest water, which Hannaford, the farmer, tells us never fails. It bursts from beneath a rock, and, like most of the blessings of Providence (whether we avail ourselves of them or not) it still pours its limpid fountain in fruitful abundance, amidst the wildness and desolation of the spot, and nourishes a thousand beautiful mosses and flowers, that render the Moor, though a desert in one sense of the word, a rich wilderness for Flora, and her train. We now view with surprise the oaks before us: and such is their singular appearance, that, without stopping to reason upon the subject, we are all disposed to think that they are really no other than the last remnant of a Druid grove; or rather the last vestige of its posterity…The ascent to Wistman’s Wood is strewn all over with immense masses of granite, that lie scattered in every direction. The soil about these rocks is very scanty, and appears, the same as in many other parts of the Moor, to be composed of decayed vegetable matter. In the midst of these gigantic blocks, growing among them, or starting, as it were, from their interstices, arises wildly, and here and there widely scattered, a grove of dwarf oak trees. Their situation, exposed to the bleak winds, which rush past the side of the declivity on which they grow, and through the valley of the Dart at their base, (a valley that acts like a tunnel to assist the fury of the gust) the diminutive height of the trees, their singular and antiquated appearance, all combine to raise feelings of mingled curiosity and wonder. The oaks are not above ten or twelve feet high, thus stunted is their growth by the sweeping winds to which they stand exposed; but they spread far and wide at their tops, and their branches twist and wind in the most’ tortuous and fantastic manner… In some places these branches are literally festooned with ivy and creeping plants; and their trunks are so thickly embedded in a covering of fine velvet moss, that at first sight you would imagine them to be of enormous thickness in proportion to their height. But it is only their velvet coats that make them look so bulky; for on examination they are not found to be of any remarkable size. Their whole appearance conveys to you the idea of hoary age in the vegetable world; and on visiting Wistman’s Wood it is impossible to do other than think of those ‘groves in stony places,’ so often mentioned in Scripture as being dedicated to BaaI and Ashtaroth… Many of the immense masses of granite around and under the trees are covered with a cushion of the thickest and the softest moss; but to sit down upon them would be rather too hazardous; since such a seat might chance to disturb from their comfortable bed a nest of adders that are very apt to shelter in such a covert, and few persons, now-a-days, would feel quite so confident as honest Hannaford in the power and efficacy of the ashen wand to render them innocuous. The oaks, though stunted and turning from the west winds, to which they are most exposed, are by ‘no means destitute of foliage; and the good-natured farmer cuts me down a branch to carry home’ in triumph, after having achieved the adventure of a visit to Wistman’s Wood. This branch has upon it several acorns, the smallest I ever saw; but the leaves are of the usual size, and as vigorous as most other trees of the same kind”, Bray, 1836, pp. 97 – 102.
She then quotes some remarks made by her husband as to the date of Wistman’s Wood: “Tradition relates that Wistman’s Wood was planted by the celebrated Isabella de Fortibus, Countess of Devon. But I do not hesitate to say that, to any one who has visited the spot, it is evident no other hand has planted it than that of God. No one would or could have planted trees in the midst of such rocks [e]. They unquestionably can be no other than the remains of the original forest; which, though in its original acceptation … At the late Visitation at Tavistock, on the 31st of. May, Archdeacon Froude, a gentleman possessed of considerable antiquarian information, told me that he had lately obtained part of a tree from this wood, with a view, if possible, to discover its age by the number of circles from its centre to the circumference; that, by the aid of a microscope, he had counted some hundreds, but that at times the divisions were so minute as hardly to be distinguishable; that, different from any other trees he had ever seen, the circles were more contracted, and in a manner condensed, on one side than on any other; and that he supposed this was the side the most exposed to the beat of the weather”, Bray, pp. 102 -3.
The fact that as Mr. Bray stated, a tree sample was taken is confirmed in ‘letters of stone’ because on a large boulder now known as the ‘Buller Stone’ is carved the following: “By permission of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales, Wentworth Buller, on September 16th 1866, cut down a tree near this spot; it measured nine inches in diameter, and appeared to be about one hundred and sixty-eight years old“, – see ill. Crossing, 1987, p.22, notes how a section of this trunk was sent to the Albert Memorial Museum at Exeter and that Mr. F. R. Rowley, the curator confirmed that in 1871 Wentworth Buller sent a vertical and transverse section of such a tree to the museum. This would mean that the sample Bray was referring to must have been another tree as it was taken at least 35 years earlier than the one Buller cut down. According to Martin, 1958, p. 61, another section of this tree was preserved in the Timber Museum at Kew Gardens. He also cites Miller Christy’s age calculations which equate to a tree with a 4½ inch radius being taken to be 163 years old or showing 38 years of growth per inch. Therefore at the time the biggest tree recorded had a 13 inch radius which according to the formula meant the tree was 471 years old which in today’s terms would put the same tree at over 500 years old. Burnard, 1986, p. III 62, remarks, “there is therefore good evidence that some of the smaller trees are not two centuries old, but some of the larger examples are without doubt of much greater antiquity.
In 1866, a fire damaged some of the centre of Wistman’s Wood but as Crossing, p.22 reassures, nature soon repaired the damage and the wood returned to its, “former appearance” within a few years. Of a slightly older date, Baring Gould states that; “In July, 1882, the central portion of the wood was set fire to, it was thought by trippers in an attempt to boil a kettle.” p.172. Whether this was the same fire or another is unsure. One question that is often asked is, “whether the wood is still growing in area”, and this can be answered by looking at the comparison photo below. The black and white photo was taken in 1889 and shows the Buller Stone, the colour photograph of the same stone was shot in 2005. No trees can be seen in the 1889 picture whereas the 2005 shot clearly shows trees growing around the stone, so yes the wood is expanding and growing in area.
There can be no question that by the late 1800s Wistman’s Wood was becoming a most popular place for visitors to visit.  The favourite route to the wood meant passing through the old Crockern farmyard and it seems that in 1887 the children living there soon realised there was a lucrative business to be had primarily as gate keepers. The follow account of such a journey demonstrates exactly how adept they were at ‘cadging’: ” The road to Wistman’s Wood from Two Bridges lies up the valley, by a road that passes through a little farm-yard, and then over the hillside through a gate in a rough stone wall. Passing up the road, when I cam to the farm-yard, the gate was opened by a little girl. She didn’t ask for a copper, but she evidently expected it, and got it. About 50 yards further on the re was another gate leading out of the yard upon the hill-side, and here her brother was stationed to act as a porter. Well, this looked a little to much like a business, so, without a “thank-you” we passed on. About 300 or 400 yards further on, the track leads through a gate in the rough stone wall afore said; and there we saw another lad lying in wait. This, however, was too much. I had not got even a “thank you”
left for such pertinacious ‘cadging’; so as there was another gate in the wall about 100 yards further up the hill, we made for that. As we suspected, the boy bolted off thither at once; an we could see him running – through the crevices. Well, he got to the upper gate; and then I turned as if, after all, I meant the lower. Back he belted once more, full speed, we leisurely strolled along, on a parallel, until he had reached his original ‘cache’, when we turned and went through the upper gate after all, before he could return.” – The Express & Echo, June 15th, 1887.
In 1895, Page, p.161, portrays Wistman’s Wood in an almost reverential manner when he says: “From whichever side approached, rough boulders and soil more or less soft are almost inevitable. But having once reached it, the explorer will see a spectacle not easily forgotten, especially if the time be evening, or the sullen clouds lowering upon the waste, when the intense silence is only broken by the murmur of water in the valley beneath, where Dart ‘fleeteth through the moor with a long solitaire course’. As he stands there in the gray light, with no trace of life visible, he may be pardoned if a feeling of something very like awe take possession of the soul, for he will almost expect to see the wraith of some Druid priest gliding along the steep hillside“.
In 1903 the ever optimistic writer Eden Phillpotts devoted a whole chapter of lyrical praise to Wistman’s Wood in his book, ‘My Devon Year’. This small extract describes the flora and fauna of the wood: “The old trees, whose average height is scarcely fifteen feet, are distorted, cramped, twisted, and knotted by time. Their mossy limbs. low spread, make a home for the bilberry, whose purple fruit ripens beside the acorns; for the polypody (fern) that fringes each gnarled limb with foliage; for the rabbits, who leap from the stones to the flat boughs spread upon them; and for the red fox, who, sunning himself in some hollow of moss and touchwood, wakes, as a wanderer assails his ear or nose, and vanishes like a streak of cinnamon light into the depths of the wood. Here, too, the adder rears her brood; the crow with intermittent croak flies heavily; a little hawk, poised in the sky, seeks the lizard below, or the young plover in the marsh upon the hills“, Phillpotts, 2001, pp 185 -186.

Having now brought up the question of the wood’s age it seems apparent that even in the early 1800’s there was no question that the trees were ancient. As can be seen there was this theory that the wood served as an ancient sacred grove of the Druids and this can neither be proven or disproven. The first point to consider in modern terms, is the age of Wistman’s Wood. Gerrard, 1997, p.25 suggests that the pollen record for Dartmoor shows that at the beginning of the Mesolithic period (c.10,000 – 4500BC) it was largely open heathland with small pockets of willow and birch located in sheltered sites. As the climate improved following the last Ice Age, growing numbers of deciduous trees such as oak, elm and hazel established themselves. By 7,00BC most of Dartmoor was wooded. this population remained fairly static until about 5,000BC when the pollen record shows a sudden entry of bracken, grasses and weeds. This is accompanied by evidence for a proportional decrease in woodland at the tree line. The most probable reason for this deforestation is fire and is supported with the recovery of charcoal from the Black Ridge and Pinswell areas of Dartmoor. These changes are recorded elsewhere in Britain and the consensus of opinion is that the fires were deliberately started by humans. Many archaeologists consider that if a clearing of woodland was created by burning, the regeneration of grazing plants would create grazing areas that would attract wild game, this in turn would make it easier for the Mesolithic hunters to catch and kill the animals. Francis Pryor, 1999, p.31 states that: “Hunters made numerous clearings in the forest to encourage the growth of succulent shrubs, grasses and other non woody plants. Animals came to these clearings, which were often placed near watering places and the hunters could take what they pleased, when they pleased; in other words, by carrying out certain not very radical management measures, hunters could attract their prey to a spot convenient to them.”
This idea of determined land management progressed through to the Neolithic period. In fact woodland clearance greatly increased as there was a transgression from hunter gatherers to farmers took place. Gerrard, p.27 considers that on Dartmoor environmental evidence from the peat bogs shows that deciduous woodlands were being cleared and replaced with cultivated areas where crops were being grown. So, if the general trend was for woodland clearance where did that leave Wistman’s Wood. If you look at a map of the area you cannot help noticing the large amount of Bronze Age features. Butler, 1991, p.60 notes that the “ancient grove of oak trees” are a survival of the forests that once spread up the valleys and must have been a “familiar environment to the early Dartmoor farmers”. So it is more than likely that much of the woodland had been cleared but the interesting question is why did the small Wistman’s Wood survive? Simmons, 1965, pp 232-3 poses the same question and offers an explanation. He says “if it was not chance then possibly the aura of mystery surrounding Wistman’s Wood may have ensured its survival.” Could it have been that right from the time of Dartmoor’s prehistoric settlers Wistman’s Wood was held in special regard? There can be no question that the area around the wood has seen a whole series of settlement and land uses, as can be seen from the map. The distribution of prehistoric features are mainly Bronze Age and are clustered around the valley sides of the wood. Butler, 1991, p.60 estimates that there are 18 small enclosures and 80 huts found on the eastern slopes of the valley below Longaford and Littaford tors. Roughly half of the huts are free standing with the rest being constructed around the enclosure edges. The huts range in size between 2.5 – 5.0m in diameter with the majority falling in the 4.0m size. The entrances tend to be located on the southern side of the structures with the odd one or two still having the jams in-situ. There is one hut located at the southern end of the wood which is considerably bigger than the rest. This one has a diameter of 6.8m and is much more substantially built with its own private enclosure, this would suggest that it is a high status building possibly belonging to a chieftain.
Laying amidst the Bronze Age features are the remains of a late nineteen century rabbit warren known as Wistman’s Warren. This sporting warren only lasted a few years and by the early 1900’s the warren hut was in decay and the buries redundant. Hemery adraws attention to the fact that the Dartmoor author Eden Phillpotts often used to visit the warren house and that his book, ‘The River’.
Wistman’s Wood was designated as a ‘Site of Significant Scientific Interest’ in 1964 and English Nature describe the site thus: “The wood is dominated by Pedunculate Oak Quercus robur and the trees have a gnarled and twisted growth-form, many with their lower branches resting on the clitter which forms the woodland floor. Rowan Sobus aucuparia, Holly Ilex quifolium and Eared Willow Salix aurita also occur. The ground flora is characterised by areas of Bilberry Vaccinium myrtillus, Creeping Soft Grass Holcus mollis, Great Woodrush Luzula sylvatica and Bramble Rubus fruticosus. The fern flora within the wood is diverse; the Filmy Ferns Hymenophyllum tunbrigense, and H. wilsonii occurring here. The epiphytic flora is luxuriant, and lichens are well represented, including the rare Alectoria smithii. Of the numerous species of bryophyte with a western distribution, Antitricha curtipendula is of particular note. Bryophyte mats also occur amongst the clitter.
The remainder of the site and surrounding valley slopes comprise characteristic unimproved acidic grassland incorporating areas of dry heather Calluna vulgaris and Bilberry. There are also areas of Western Gorse Ulex gallii and acidic marshy grassland characterised by Purple Moor Grass Molinia caerulea. Of additional interest are several wet flushes giving rise to mire communities dominated by Soft Rush Juncus effusus and with Bog Mosses; Sphagnum spp., Bog Asphodel Narthecium ossifragum, Round-leaved Sundew Drosera rotundifolia, Lesser Spearwort Ranunculus flammula and Marsh St John’s Wort Hypericum elodes. With the exception of a small fenced area of the wood the whole valley is open to grazing by sheep, cattle and ponies. The turbulent West Dart River courses southwards through the site and there is a representative breeding bird population, including Stonechat Saxicola torquota, Whinchat S. rubetra and Wheatear Oenanthe oenanthe“.
The other facet of Wistman’s Wood that has caused much debate is that or the actual place-name etymology. Mrs Bray considers that: “Wist is the preterit and participle of wis, from pissan, Saxon, wissen, German, to know; and is not at present altogether obsolete, as it is still used in Scripture in this sense. From the same etymon comes also wise: ‘sapient; judging rightly; having much knowledge ‘ — (Johnson’s Dict.) Thus Wissman’s or Wistman’s Wood signifies Silva Sapientium, ‘the wood of wisemen.’ The Druids and bards were unquestionably the philosophers or wise men of the Britons. We may naturally conjecture, therefore, that this was their principal or their last place of assembly; and the many stone circles on Bair-down immediately opposite the wood confirm the opinion” Bray, p.73.
Crossing enters the debate and offer two theories, 1987, pp. 22 -23, firstly that the name stems from usig maen coed which translates as ‘water’ stone wood’. His second suggestion is that the name comes from the Saxon word for the native Devonians, namely Wealas a term that was generally applied to any early native Britain. As these people tended to be concentrated in Wales the term corrupted to Welsh thus, in context of the wood, giving the ‘wood of the Welshmen’. He also notes that in the 1800’s the wood was often referred to locally as the ‘Welshman’s Wood’. Hemery, 1983, p.454, adds weight to this when he cites an early Duchy document dating to 1621 which states: “One place called Welshman Wood where the Tallest Tree is not above the Height of a Man”. Another suggestion from G. M. Spooner is that the name is a local corruption of Wisht-Man’s Wood, this refers to the Devonshire word Wisht meaning pixie-led or haunted. The English Place-Name Society, Gover et al, 1992, p.198,  has surprisingly very little to say about the name but seem to concur with Spooner’s Wisht theory.
There can be no question that Wistman’s Wood is a unique and enigmatic feature and as always on Dartmoor has attracted the attention of the letterboxers. Numerous boxes have over the years been sited around the wood all in their own way adding to the mystery and history of the place. You could fill a webpage with the numerous examples of Wistman’s Wood stamps but a few of my favourites can be seen above.
So there you have it – Wistman’s Wood, the last vestige of a prehistoric woodland or I think to be more precise the last vestige of the offspring of a prehistoric woodland. You will read numerous people banging on about woodland spirits and mystical energies but at the end of the day the wood has had one guardian angel – the rocks that scatter its leafy floor. Without them both man and beast would have had easy access to the wood and I am sure would have hewn and grazed their way through the stunted oaks.

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Bray, E. 1836 A Description of the Part of Devonshire Bordering on the Tamar and the Tavy, John Murray, London.
Burnard, R. 1986 Robert Burnard’s Dartmoor Pictorial Records, Devon Books, Exeter.
Butler, J. 1991 Dartmoor Atlas of Antiquities, Vol. II, Devon Books, Exeter.
Crossing, W. 1987 Gems in a Granite Setting, Devon Books, Exeter.
Gerrard, S. 1997, Dartmoor, Batsford, London.
Gover, J.E.B., Mawer, A., & Stenton, F. M. 1992 The Place-Names of Devon, The English Place Name Society, Nottingham.
Hemery, E. 1983, High Dartmoor, Hale Publishing, London.
Kavanagh, D. 2005 Wistman’s Wood Warren – The Dartmoor Magazine, No. 78, Quay Publications, Brixham.
Martin, E. W. 1958 The Regional Books – Dartmoor, R. Hale, London.
Page, J. Ll. W. 1895 An Exploration of Dartmoor, Seeley & Co., London
Phillpotts, E. 2001 My Devon Year, Halsgrove Publishing, Tiverton.
Pryor, F. 1999, Farmers in Prehistoric Britain, Tempus Publishing, Stroud.
Simmons, I. G. 1965 The Dartmoor Oak Copses, Headley Bros, London.
Swete. J. 2000 Travels in Georgian Devon – Vol. IV, Devon Books, Exeter.