Tales from the Storyteller: Exploring Ashburton folklore

by David Phillips

Recently I went on an exploration of Ashburton, on the southern edge of Dartmoor, in search of folklore tales to share with the listeners of my friend David Hammond’s radio show on Riviera FM.

Ashburton is full of history, including its status as one of the four Stannary towns that were set up by the tin mining industry, when it was of great importance to the local economy.

The others being Plympton, Tavistock and Chagford. Stannary, comes from Stannum, the Latin word for tin.

The towns were established as centres where the miners could bring their hauls to have them weighed and valued, before selling, and having them shipped away.

We were there on the trail of Cutty Dyer, the legendary water sprite or ogre, depending on how scary you want him to appear, that lurks beneath the waters of the river Yeo, or now Ashburn, that flows through the heart of the town.

After parking up, our first port of call was the information centre, where we met some local volunteers, who couldn’t do enough for us.

When we explained what we were doing there, they plied us with various maps and guidebooks, before pointing us in the right direction to continue our quest.

I was most impressed at how ready for Halloween they were, as in fact many of the shops and buildings throughout the town also appeared to be.

It is said that Cutty Dyer resides in the shelter of one of the many bridges that span the town’s river, so we went for a stroll along it, keeping a wary eye out for him, before settling down on a bench to tell his story, on the opposite side of the road to the Bay Horse Inn, which is reputedly haunted by the sound of children’s laughter coming from an upstairs room.

The name Cutty derives from Christopher, and it just so happens that there used to be a wooden statue of St Christopher positioned next to one of the crossing places over the river, maybe, in the dark, the unwary traveller could quite easily mistake said statue for a huge monster looming over them.

Just to confuse the issue, there used to be a miller who owed a mill on the banks of the Yeo by the name of Christopher Dyer.

Wherever the name came from, it was used to strike fear into the hearts of naughty boys and drunken husbands, females seem to have been exempt from his clutches, maybe they were regarded as too angelic for his tastes back then.

There is an interesting tale that best illustrates the effect a potential sighting of the ogre had on the locals, which involves two men staggering home from the pubs one night, following one of the paths beside the river.

Their drunken conversation was rudely interrupted when one of the men shouted out 'Cutty Dyer'!

Looking in the direction his companion was pointing, they both saw a huge figure looming up at them out of the river, dripping wet and covered in weeds.

They both swore they could see sharp fangs, clawed fingers and coal black eyes in the dark. Afraid for their lives, they ran as fast as their drunken legs could carry them.

The next morning, both men awoke to the consequences of their overindulgence the night before.

One found himself in a cucumber patch, in somebodies garden, while the other came round in a prison cell, having been arrested for kicking a policeman who had come to his aid.

The drunk claimed he thought he was being grabbed by Cutty Dyer...

The ogre also gives his name to one of the bridges crossing the Yeo, as it comes off the moor from the heights of Rippon Tor, its known as Cuddyford Bridge.

Nearby, its namesake cross also used to stand as a memorial to old Cutty Dyer, sadly it stands no more, but an old rhyme does still remain in the memories of the older residents of the town, and they say you would do well to heed it: “Dawn’t ‘ee go down the riverzide: Cutty Dyer du abide. Cutty Dyer ain’t no gude: Cutty Dyer’ll drink yer blood!”