Moorland Ramblings

Crazywell pool is steeped in myth and legend, and sitting high up on the moors, hiding away until you walk upon it, it is easy to understand why. There are a loads and loads and loads of stories associated with the location, but I’ve included my three favourite ones in this post. As always, I think stories are brought to life when you visit the location so see my separate post, Dartmoor Circular Walk: History, Folklore, and Ghost Stories for a beautiful circular walk incorporating Crazywell.

The Confident Bikers

It is said that if you gaze into the pool on Midsummer’s Eve, the reflection that looks back of you will be that of the next parishioner to die. One night, this tale was being told in a nearby pub, and was overheard by two young men who laughed it away into their pints. Feeling belittled, the storyteller laid down a challenge that the men readily accepted and as such, on the next Midsummer’s eve the men found themselves walking to the pool. As it was quite a hike from the pub to the pool, they decided to drive up on a motorbike. Nobody knows what they heard or saw in the pool that night, because on the way home the bike sped off the road and their lifeless corpses were found the next morning.

Karen Cooke

The pool is a favourite haunt (pun intended) of wild swimmers, who look to bathe in its untamed, icy cool waters. One such swimmer was Karen Cook who most morning would park her blue Nissan at Norsworthy Bridge, whereupon she would make her 2km pilgrimage to the pool. Over time, this pilgrimage became ritual and her resentment of other swimmers grew. In an attempt to maintain solitude and avoid the company of others, her pilgrimage was undertaken earlier and earlier until eventually, she was visiting Crazywell at the crack of dawn. One June night, in the midst of a heatwave, Karen found herself unable to sleep and sensing an opportunity for a cooling swim, she headed to the pool. It was Midsummer’s Eve. At the end of her swim, Karen peered into the depths of the pool and an icy shiver simultaneously shot up her spine. Immediately she quickly pulled on her clothes and hastily charged off. That morning, a local man, Ken Scott went to the pool. Upon his arrival he noticed a single towel with no apparent owner. He looked into the pool and immediately foreboding took over him. Being a local man born and bred he was well aware of the sinister tales attached to the pool but being a pragmatist, he dismissed the thoughts that were flying through his head and took to the waters. Having finished, he looked to go home but, on his way, back, he noticed a cluster of blue flashing lights along the nearby road. As he pulled closer, he saw a blue Nissan Micra on the side of the road, its occupant dripping wet and dead.

Piers Gaveston

The final tale from Crazywell involves Piers Gaveston, the first earl of Cornwall, who was a favourite of Edward II, King of England. Gaveston’s kinship with the king angered the nobility of the time, who started rumours of a sexual relationship between the two. Being the time it was, the King was not prepared to let these rumours grow and so banished Gaveston into exile (of note this was his third exile so perhaps there was a basis to it beyond the rumours). It is during this third exile, that Gaveston is said to have hidden himself amongst the Hills of Dartmoor. Whilst here, he heard rumour of a witch residing on Sheepstor that could tell the future and so he went to consult her about his future. She is rumoured to have told him that “Fear not, thou favourite of the king, That humbled head shall soon be high.”. Pleased with his fortune and presuming it to mean he was safe to return from exile, he returned to court. His presumptions were misplaced however and upon his arrival he was arrested and sentenced to death for breaking his exile. Following the swing of the executioners’ axe, his head was hoisted onto pikes for all to see. It was in this way the witch’s prediction came true.