What is Dartmoor 365? Here is a summary for those who have not had the pleasure of picking up a copy of John Haywood’s book:

‘The National Park originally comprised 365 square miles, and in this work every one has been visited in order to record in word and illustration at least one item of interest in every square mile.

Whenever you are within the Park boundary you will be able to plan excursions of an hour, a half day, or a full day, to find the items suggested, and indeed many more as well…

…There is no other book that covers the moor in such a methodical way. Besides the expected pages about hills and rivers, fords and bridges, tors and crosses, topics such as plant lore, village life, legends, letterboxes, architecture and archaeology, all find a prominent place.’

This post focuses on the square R6 – Sheepstor Village. I headed up to the area for a nice summer eve’s walk back in 2023, interrupted with some light showers which led some to soggy boots. I parked up in the nearby village of Meavy and walked on a pathway to Lovaton to pick up some geocaches, before then making my way back north to Sheepstor.

Sheepstor is an interesting little village. Dartmoor 365 describes it as follows:

‘Here is a delightful little village, too small to support shop, post office, or inn. It is named after the massive tor not far to the north, but how that got its name nobody knows. Apparently, it has nothing to do with sheep.’

The Wikipedia entry for the village further explains the history of the name:

The name Sheepstor has evolved considerably since the first reference to a settlement here which was recorded in a pipe roll of 1168 as Sitelestorra. In a document of 1262, it was Skytelestor, Shittestorre in 1474, Shistor in 1547 and in c. 1620 Tristram Risdon called it Shetelstor now Shepstor. 

So, if the name does not refer to sheep, what does it refer to? The Wikipedia entry suggests the following:

The name probably derives from the Old English scyttel(s) meaning a bar or bolt, reflecting the shape of the nearby Sheeps Tor.

Due to not being an incredibly observant person, I haven’t noticed the bolt shape whilst walking on Sheeps Tor before; probably because I’ve been too busy being amazed by the views of the moor that it offers.

As the book notes, it is a small village (with a population under 100), but the church itself is worth a visit due to the various bits of connected history. There is above the church porch, what Hayward calls a ‘curious carving’ which:

‘depicts ears of corn growing out of a skull mounted on an hourglass. The Latin tags compare the hours to a span of life and state that death is but a doorway to a new life.’

The churchyard is also the setting of a series of intriguing crosses and headstones which honour members of the Nicolson family. David Henry Arthur Nicholson (who died recently in 2008 after an esteemed career as a solicitor) has various titles provided on his headstone, including ‘Fourth Baron Carnock’, ‘Fourteenth Baronet of Carnock’, and most interestingly ‘Chief of Clan Nicholson’.

However, I found the most intriguing grave to be that of the “White Rajahs” of Sarawak. This is a piece of imperial history that I had never encountered before and it justifies its own blog post (hopefully at some point in the future). A brief summary can be found on Wikipedia:

The White Rajahs were a dynastic monarchy of the British Brooke family, who founded and ruled the Raj of Sarawak, located on the north west coast of the island of Borneo, from 1841 to 1946. The first ruler was Briton James Brooke. As a reward for helping the Sultanate of Brunei fight piracy and insurgency among the indigenous peoples, he was granted the province of Kuching, which was known as Sarawak Asal (Original Sarawak) in 1841 and received independent kingdom status.

This dynasty continued over a century, passing from James Brooke to his nephew and then grandnephew, before then being passed to Britain in 1946 (and is now part of Malaysia). A brief read of the history of the Brookes in Sarawak is fascinating; it once again affirms just how large the British Empire once was, spreading across the globe and impacting peoples who are now largely forgotten or ignored within Britain itself.

As always, I’m amazed at how much history is contained within England’s tiny, almost forgotten villages and settlements. Sheepstor village is somewhat hidden and seems remote from the modern age, but a short walk through it conjures up deep and rich connections to the past. Another one of Dartmoor’s many gems.