Storyteller: Tale of the Son of the Hill

Why do holidays go so quickly? My week of 60th birthday celebrations certainly did, but we made some brilliant family memories.
The barns we stayed in at Blackadon Farm were first class. Nothing was too much trouble for the owners, Marcus and Ryan, any issues we had were dealt with straightaway, making for a stress-free stay, so highly recommended.
We spent a day at Dartmoor Zoo, where almost everyone got to see the animals we had adopted for them, as their birthday gifts for this year. As an added bonus, we chose the day that the big cats got fed, which is a most impressive sight to behold, a natural predator seeking out its food.
Another day, we took a trip on the steam train from Buckfastleigh to Totnes, giving us a taste of what life must have been like in a bygone age when steam was king. One of my many birthday gifts, is to take part in a Murder Mystery event aboard the very same train, so I’m really looking forward to that, as it includes a chance to dress up.
The members of my family, who hadn’t already had the pleasure, were treated to my Devil’s Quest tour of the moors, with a lunch stop in Widecombe.
For me, the main highlights of our stay were the opportunities to go for walks in one of my favourite parts of Dartmoor, recently made difficult to access by the closing of some of the traditional parking areas.
On our last day, whilst the rest of the family chose to head to the beach at Bigbury, I opted for a walk over the hills, that overshadow the farm, starting at Western Beacon, with its cairns and boundary stones, descending to the muddy puddle known as Blackpool, before rising to more cairns and a trig pillar on Butterdon Hill.
Heading west, you come to more cairns on Weatherdon Hill, with views north to Sharp Tor and Three Barrows. Passing an intriguing outcrop known as Hangershell Rock, I crossed Main Head, on my way to Ugborough Beacon, overlooking Wrangaton golf course, sited just above Moorhaven Village, where also lies the barns.
This circular walk bagged me six boxes for my collection and made me very envious of those that live in the locality, who can make that trek whenever they wish, as well as forging further into the heart of the southern moor, which is just what I did with a group of my walking buddies, the day after my birthday.
Starting at the golf club, after a hearty breakfast, four of us set off on a six hour round trip to the massive China Clay spoil heap, that dominates that central area, along with the ruins that accompany a long gone industry. To get there is fairly straightforward, following the track of the Red Lake Tramway, which isn’t as stony as other tracks over the moor.
Along the way, you pass other landmarks of note, the high hill with cairns atop, known as Three Barrows, and the smaller version of Red Lake Tip at Left Lake, but the feature that intrigues me the most, stands out on the other side of the River Erme, above Piles Copse, close by the magnificent stone row of Stalldown Hill. It’s known as Hillson’s House, and it has a very unusual tale attached to it.
Many years ago, a moor walker stumbled across an apparently abandoned baby boy, near the cairn on Stalldown Hill. With no sign of its parents in the locality, the baby was taken to the village below, and a suitable family sought to give the child an upbringing. An elderly, childless couple came forward, willing to take on the challenge. They called their boy, Hillson, or son of the hill, in honour of where he was found.
As he grew up, he was well-mannered, a quick study, and with a tendency to prefer his own company. Once he was of an age to leave his doting parents, he took himself off to the hill from which he was originally rescued, and built himself a house, using the stones from the cairn situated there.
Growing up, he had shown a keen interest in clocks and clock making, and this was to become his livelihood. Whilst living in the seclusion of Stalldown Hill, his business flourished, as he made some of the most beautiful timepieces ever seen.
He specialised in 8-day clocks, which resembled Grandfather Clocks, that kept time for a week and a day, needing only to be wound once every eight days, to keep them in working order. No one knows what happened to the clockmaker, but it has been suggested that some people living in the local area still possess a clock made by Hillson, ensuring that his legacy lives on, and his house still stands on the cairn on Stalldown Hill.