England (south) – Page 18

Lyneham Barrow, Ascot-under-Wychwood, Oxfordshire

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Long Barrow: OS Grid Reference – SP 2975 2107

Lyneham barrow stone01 — Lyneham Barrow stone

Pretty easy really. From Shipton-under-Wychwood take the A361 road north (to Chipping Norton) for just over 2 miles. You’ll pass the TV mast on your right and then a small country lane sign-posted to Ascott-under-Wychwood. Go past this and then stop at the next right-turn a half-mile further up the road. The barrow is about 100 yards before this turning, in the hedgerow, on the left-hand side of the road!

Archaeology & History

This once great and proud neolithic monument is today but a shadow of its former self. Described by various antiquarians and archaeologists over the years, O.G.S. Crawford (1925) included it in his fine survey, telling:

“The barrow is between 160 and 170 feet long and stands in two fields on the west side of the Chipping Norton and Burford main road… In the northern field, at the NE end of the barrow, stands a single upright stone, 6 feet high, 5 feet broad and 1 foot 6 inches thick. This stone is stated to be buried three feet deep in the ground and its height is given by Conder as 10 feet 6 inches. When visited October 18, 1922, a large piece of the top had been broken off, but replaced in position.”

This damage was reported around the same time and described in the early “Notes” of The Antiquaries Journal by a Mr A.D. Passmore (1925), who wrote:

“About 30ft from the north-east end of this long barrow stands a large monolith now nearly 6ft above ground…and roughly 6ft wide and just under 2ft thick, of local stone. At the top is an ancient and natural fissure extending right across the stone and penetrating some way downwards obliquely. Early in 1923, either by foul play or natural decay, another crack appeared spreading towards the first about a right-angle, the result being that a large piece at the top of the monolith became detached. Such an opportunity of mischief was speedily taken advantage of and the piece of stone, weighing over 4 cwt, was pushed off and fell to the ground. In August 1924 the owner of the land, his man, and the writer spread a bed of cement and hoisted up the large broken mass and relaid it in its bed.”

But even in their day, the tomb had already been opened up and checked out, by a Lord Moreton and a Mr Edward Conder, in 1894 no less! Conder’s account (1895) of the inside of this ancient tomb told:

“There were found (1) a chamber at right angles to the long axis of the barrow; on the south-eastern side of the barrow were two uprights, 4 feet 2 inches by 2 feet 1o inches, and 1 foot 9 inches by 2 feet 8 inches. At the north-western end of the chamber were two uprights set with their long faces (edges?) abutting. On the surface-line at the level of the base of the barrow were traces of paving and fragments of bone, pottery and charcoal. (2) Chamber, a little south of the south-east corner of No.1, slightly above the ground level. It was formed of three uprights, on the north, east and west sides respectively, and a paving slab with a perforation 4 inches in diameter. At the north-eastern end of the barrow was a ridge of large ‘rug’ stones up to 8 feet long, 5 feet wide, and 2½ feet thick, terminating in a standing stone…10 feet 6 inches high…buried 3 feet below ground level. At the southwest end was a standing stone, 4½ feet by 3 feet by 11 inches thick, in a horizontal position lying east and west, 2 feet below the surface. At various points were found skulls and human and animal bones and hearths, with no indications of date, and (as secondary interments) two Saxon graves.”

Today, poor old Lyneham Barrow is much overgrown and could do with a bittova face-lift to bring it back to life. But I wouldn’t hold y’ breath…..

Folklore

At the crossroads just above this old tomb, the ghost of a white lady is said to roam. And at the old quarry on the other side of the road a decidedly shamanistic tale speaks of an old lady who lived in a cave and guarded great treasure! Her spirit is sometimes seen wandering about in and around the fields hereby.

References:

Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
Brooks, J.A., Ghosts and Witches of the Cotswolds, Jarrold: Norwich 1992.
Conder, Edward, “An Account of the Exploration of Lyneham Barrow, Oxon,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, volume 15, 1895.
Crawford, O.G.S., Long Barrows of the Cotswolds, John Bellows: Oxford 1925.
Dyer, James, Discovering Regional Archaeology: The Cotswolds and the Upper Thames, Shire: Tring 1970.
L.V. Grinsell’s Ancient Burial Mounds of England, Methuen: London 1936.
James, Dave, “A Brief Foray into Oxfordshire,” in Gloucestershire Earth Mysteries 14, 1992.
Passmore, A.D., “Lyneham Barrow, Oxfordshire,” in Antiquaries Journal, 5:2, April 1925.
Turner, Mark, Folklore and mysteries of the Cotswolds, Hale: London 1993.

St. Alban’s Well, St. Albans, Hertfordshire

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Holy Well: OS Grid Reference – TL 146 066

Also Known as:

Holy Well of St. Albans

Archaeology & History

The ancient and once sacred water source was described in local place-names such as Holywell strete and Holywellbrugge from the 13th Century onwards; yet despite it being at the heart of one of the cradles of the English church, there are only scant accounts of the legendary well down the centuries. The most detailed essay on this site was written by Tony Haynes (1986) in the specialist holy well journal, Source, more than 20 years ago. Haynes tells as much as it known of the site, saying:

“Late in the seventeenth century, when John Churchill, future Duke of Marlborough, pulled down his wife’s house and built a new mansion in the middle of Holywell Hill, thus creating a major diversion, the Holy Well was a feature of his terraced gardens. Maps of the period show the site of the well to be a focal point of his lawns.

“In 1815, Shaw’s guide to the town states, ‘The holy-well is still held in some esteem for its purity and salubrious qualities’. The Duke’s residence later became the property of the Earl Spencers. It eventually fell into ruin and was demolished in 1837, and the original route of Holywell Hill was restored, no doubt much to the relief of contemporary coach and wagon drivers. After this time, the grounds were left to decay. Ten years later little remained of the gardens but a fishpond and the Duke’s ‘canal’ marking the original course of the River Ver.

“Of the Holy Well, in his History of St Albans published in 1893, Charles Ashdowne laments that: “It is now remembered only as a muddy depression, sheltered by the remains of a dilapidated wall and a mournful specimen of blackthorn.” Eventually the land was acquired by the St Albans School for Boys as a playing field. “The exigencies of athleticism necessitated the ground being levelled and turfed over,” Ashdown continues, “and it is much regretted that there is nothing to mark the site of what was essentially one of the most ancient of English Holy Wells.”

“This is confirmed by a Miss Lightfoot of Holywell Hill. In 1960, when she was 85, she wrote in a letter to Hertfordshire Countryside magazine: ‘I remember the well quite well, for as a child I often went round it. It was surrounded by a fence, inside was a tree, water and weeds – not very inviting.’

“The ‘Old boys’ of St Albans School recall, about fifty years ago, there being a concrete slab at one end of their football pitch which they knew as the site of the well. Their playing field fell into disuse in the 1960’s, but the exact site of the well was lost long before this.”

Naff all is visible here nowadays, apart from some concrete square bitta brickwork that betrays any sense whatsoever of a once sacred site. Very disappointing indeed…..

Folklore

As with a great many British holy wells, this all-but-forgotten site was named after one of the early christian martyrs — in this case from as early as the late 3rd century AD. A number of early folklore texts describe St. Albans story, with Vernon Brelsford (1958) telling:

“Tradition states that on his way to execution he walked up a neighbouring hill where he prayed for water to quench his thirst, whereupon a fountain of water sprang up under his feet. Here he was beheaded on June 23, AD 303.”

This date indicates the site probably replaced an earlier, heathen midsummer solstice custom at, or near this spot. Another tale tells that when St. Alban had been executed, the saint’s head rolled down the hill and into the waters of the well below. Mr Haynes (1986) described other early folklore which seems to relate to St. Alban’s Well, telling:

“An early reference to the well can be found in the writings of Brompton who lived in the time of Richard II. He recorded that the father of King Arthur, a British Prince, was severely wounded in the battles with the Saxons:

‘A long time he lay confined to his bed until at length he was cured by resorting to a well or spring not far distant from the city. at that time reputed to be salubrious; and for that reason, and for the cures thereby performed, esteemed holy; and blessed in a peculiar manner with the flavour of Heaven.’

“Two devout sisters built a shelter near the well. They served the weary pilgrims who trudged up the steep hill towards Alban’s shrine in the abbey, by dipping, or ‘sopping’ their bread in the holy water and offering it to the thirsty travellers. Hence was founded Sopwell Priory, nearby.”

References:

Brelsford, Vernon, Superstitious Survivals, Centaur Press: London 1958.
Gover, J.E.B., et al, The Place-Names of Hertfordshire, Cambridge University Press 1938.
Haynes, Tony, “Well-Wishing in St. Albans,” in Source, no.6, 1986.
Hope, R.C., The Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England, Elliot Stock: London 1893.

Market Cross, Glastonbury, Somerset

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Cross: OS Grid Reference – ST 49875 38924

Also Known as:

Glastonbury Cross

Archaeology & History

The present day Market Cross that stands in Glastonbury’s High Street, ornate though it may look, replaced a much earlier and more memorable monument. The one we see today, said Charles Pooley (1877),

“at the junction of the four streets, was erected in 1846, after the design of B. Ferrey, Esq., at the instance and the cost of a private individual. It is a Gothic pinnacled structure of a simple type, with no pretensions to elaborate architectural display.”

Glastonbury X 2 — The ancient Market Cross

A very poor substitute for the cross that stood in its place in earlier centuries, from all accounts. Before the modern spire was erected, an earlier, larger and more ornate structure — that seems to have been first described in John Leland’s classic Itinerary (1744 ) in the middle of the 18th century, simply as “the Market Crosse in the West Ende” — was the meeting point for the tradesmen and villagers of Glastonbury. Although Rahtz & Watts (2003) followed Leland in giving only passing mention to this once ornate structure, thankfully a number of earlier antiquarians gave the old cross a bit more literary attention. Mr Pooley (1877) again informs us:

“Warner, who was in Glastonbury in 1799, says, “In my way to the Abbey, I passed the Market Cross, and old polygonal structure, its apex crowned with a little naked figure, bearing strong marks, in its position and employment of that grossness of taste, in which the sculptors of the 15th century so frequently indulged.”

Other writers weren’t as puritanical in their descriptions. In John Britton’s (1807) tour of the architectural curiosities of the region he remarked:

“Though a large and extremely curious structure…it is scarcely noticed in the topographical annals of the county; its history is, therefore, perhaps entirely lost. Since the drawing was taken in 1802, the Cross had been suffered gradually to fall into ruins, part of the centre column then only standing.” He continued: “There is something peculiarly unique in the shape and ornament of this building. A large column in the centre, running through the roof, and terminating with a naked figure, clustered columns at each angle with odd capitals, bases, etc., and gables with pinnacles of unusual shape, all unite to constitute this one of the eccentricities of ancient building. From the time of the Norman Conquest to the Dissolution of the Engilsh Monasteries, the varied and progressive styles of architecture are satisfactorily defined, and a very general uniformity prevails in all the buildings of particular eras; but the specimen before us differs from anything that we have yet met… In the year 1802 there was a mutilated inscription on it, with the year 1604, but we cannot say that this date refers to the time of its building. There were also some armorial bearings carved on different parts of it. Among these were the arms (a cross between two cups) of Richard Beere, the last Abbot but one of Glastonbury. The presence of the canting device of Richard Beere would probably determine the date of its erection.”

Mr Pooley’s (1877) own description of the old cross told that,

“It was built of hewn stone on an octagonal plan, having clustered pillars ranged round a central column supporting the roof. Three steps, the lower one benched, surrounded the base of the shaft, for the convenience of the market people. The gables were terminated by moulded pinnacles, and the central shaft, which rose above the roof, was surmounted by a statue. Adjoining the cross was an ancient conduit, having a vaulted roof, and supplied with water from a reservoir at the uper part of town. These structures being in want of repair…it was determined to pull them down, which was done accordingly in the year 1808.”

So the next time anyone visits Glastonbury’s tall spired cross in the middle of the town, remember its old and much more ornate predecessor. Perhaps some of you arty-types down there could do a replica of the old thing with its naked figurines and resurrect it from its forgotten past…

References:

Britton, John, The Architectural Antiquities of Great Britain, Longman, Hurse: London 1807.
Leland, John, The Itinerary, James Fletcher: Oxford 1744.
Michell, John, New Light on the Ancient Mystery of Glastonbury, Gothic Image: Glastonbury 1990.
Pooley, Charles, The Old Stone Crosses of Somerset, Longmans, Green & Co.: London 1877.
Rahtz, Philip & Watts, Lorna, Glastonbury: Myth and Archaeology, Tempus: Stroud 2003.

North Hill, Samson, Scilly Isles, Cornwall

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Chambered Cairn: OS Grid Reference – SV 877 131

Archaeology & History

Scilly isles - Samson cist — Early photo of the North Hill tomb (Crawford 1928)

On the north side of Samson island there are several chambered tombs and cairns scattered around the edges of aptly-named North Hill; but the one illustrated here was one of the first to be excavated in 1862-3. Although O.G.S. Crawford (1928) wrote about the site in his essay on Cornish cists — from where this old black-and-white photo of the site has been taken — it was described in much greater detail in Borlase’s (1872) archaeological magnum opus of the day. In his time, this now much-denuded burial site had all the outer hallmarks of being a large tumulus. This was described in some detail in a paper written by one Mr Augustus Smith (read at a Meeting of the Royal Institution of Cornwall in May, 1863) who was fortunate enough to be one of the first people to unearth this great tomb and find the site untouched since it had been laid, thousands of years earlier. Citing extensively from Smith’s notes, Borlase told:

“The Barrow…is situated with four or five others, mostly rifled on the…high ground at the northern end. “The mound, in its outer circumference, measured about 58 feet, giving, therefore, a distance of near upon 30 feet to its centre, from where the excavation was commenced. For about 18 or 20 feet the mound appeared entirely composed of fine earth, when an inner covering, first of smaller and then or large rugged stones, was revealed. These were carefully uncovered before being disturbed, and were then one by one displaced till a large upright stone was reached, covered by another of still more ponderous dimensions, which projected partially over the edges of the other. At length this top covering, of irregular shape, but measuring about 5 feet 6 inches in its largest diameter, was thoroughly cleared of the superincumbent stones and earth, and showed itself evidently to be the lid to some mysterious vault or chamber beneath.” On the lid being removed, there was “disclosed to view an oblong stone chest or sarcophagus beneath” on the floor of which, “in a small patch,” “a little heap of bones, the fragmentary framework of some denizen of earth, perhaps a former proprietor of the Islands—were discovered piled together in one corner.

“”The bones were carefully taken out, and the more prominent fragments, on subsequent examination by a medical gentleman, were found to give the following particulars: – Part of an upper jawbone presented the alveolæ of all the incisors, the canines, two cuspids and three molars, and the roots of two teeth, very white, still remaining in the sockets. Another fragment gave part of the lower jaw with similar remains of teeth in the sockets. All the bones had been under the action of fire and must have been carefully collected together after the burning of the body. They are considered to have belonged to a man about 50 years of age…

“”The bottom of the sarcophagus was neatly fitted with a pavement of three flat but irregular-shaped stones, the joints fitted with clay mortar, as were also the insterstices where the stones forming the upright sides joined together, as also the lid, which was very neatly and closely fitted down with this same plaster.

“”Two long slabs, from seven to nine feet in length, and two feet in depth, form the sides, while the short stones fitted in between them make the ends, being about 3½ feet apart, and to fix which firmly in their places, grooves had been roughly worked in the larger stones.” The paving stones had been “embedded immediately upon the natural surface of the granite of which the hill consists.”

References:

Borlase, William Copeland, Nænia Cornubiæ, Longmans Green: London 1872.
Crawford, O.G.S., “Stone Cists,” in Antiquity Journal, volume 2, no.8, December 1928.

Devil’s Dyke, Poynings, Sussex

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Hillfort: OS Grid Reference – TQ 260 111

Also Known as:

Brighton Dyke
Poor Man’s Wall

Getting Here

Map of Devil's Dyke — Map of Devil’s Dyke

Plenty of ways of approaching this huge fella! Personally, I’d take it from the steep valley immediately east and north where the ramparts drop you down the hill, if only to get a decent idea of the scale of the thing! But those of you into taking it easy can do no better than take the country road south out of Poynings village (towards Brighton), down Saddlescombe Road, for just under a mile, where you should take a right-hand turn along the Summer Down lane for a mile. You’ll then hit the Devil’s Dyke Road. Turn right here and go to the end. You’re right in the middle of it!

Archaeology & History

Devils Dyke (TAJ 1925) — Early plan of Devil’s Dyke ‘camp’

Although most of this huge monument hasn’t been given the investigation it deserves — hence making knowledge of its origins more speculative than factual — as Jacquetta Hawkes (1973) wrote, seemingly all those years ago now, “it is known that a village lying half in and round them was occupied in the Belgic period at the end of the Iron Age.” And it’s certainly big enough! The encircling circuit of dykes themselves stretch all the way round a distance of more than 2150 yards long (that’s 1.22 miles, or 1.97km!), with the longest east-west axis being more than half-a-mile across.

Nowadays it seems, the Devil’s Dyke is the name given to the steep valley below the encampment, but a hundred years back it was the camp itself that was known by this name. Described by the wandering antiquarian R. Hippisley Cox (1927) as “a camp containing forty acres (with) very steep and difficult approaches,” another early account in The Antiquaries Journal — commenting on a ground-plan of the site from the Brighton and Hove Herald of 1925 — told:

“The heavy encircling lines represent ramparts, and the thin line marks the outer margin of the accompanying ditch. A spur renders the earthwork weakest on the south-west, and the rampart is therefore highest between the points 1 and 3, rising 21ft vertically above the ditch, which is nearly filled up at the present time. On the north-west there is steep slope outside the camp, and the ramparts are considerably lower, the iner ditch being nearly obliterated. The outer rampart is now wanting betwen 7 and 8, but this inner one becomes stronger as the outer slope of the ground decreases, only to die away again on the south-east where the camp overlooks the steep Dyke Valley. A double-bank and inner ditch can still be traced from the north-east angle to a point near the old golf-club house.”

I first came here as a young lad and the site was lost on me (in them days, if monuments weren’t stiff and upright, I really didn’t see the point!). These days however, the size of it alone blows you away somewhat.

Folklore

As you’d expect the creation myths of this site and its edges relate to our old heathen friend, the devil! The landscape itself was, in old lore, the work of the devil (though prior to this, the devil was known in peasant-lore to be a legendary giant, though I am unaware of the name/s of the giant in question); and the great valley below the Devil’s Dyke encampment was actually dug out by Old Nick in the old tales. That old folklorist Jacqueline Simpson (1973) takes up the story:

“The Devil…had been infuriated by the conversion of Sussex, one of the last strongholds of paganism in England, and more particularly by the way the men of the Weald were building churches in all their villages. So he swore that he would dig right through the Downs in a single night, to let in the sea and drown them all. He started just near Poynings and dug and dug most furiously, sending great clods of earth flying left and right — one became Chanctonbury, another Cissbury, another Rackham Hill, and yet another Mount Caburn. Towards midnight, the noise he was making disturbed an old woman, who looked out to see what was going on. As soon as she understood what he was up to, she lit a candle and set it on her window-sill, holding up a sieve in front of it to make a dimly glowing globe. The Devil looked round, and thought this was the rising sun. At first he could hardly believe his eyes, but then he heard a cock crowing — for the old woman, just to make quite sure, had knocked her cockerel off his perch. So Satan flew away, leaving his work half done. Some say that as he went out over the Channel, a great dollop of earth fell from his cloven hoof, and that’s how the Isle of Wight was made; others, that he bounded straight over into Surry, where the impact of his landing formed the hollow known as his Punch Bowl.”

That’s the story anyway — take it or leave it! Of importance in this fable is the figure of the “old woman”: a much watered-down version of the cailleach figure of more ancient northern and Irish climes, where tales of her doings are still very much alive. And many are the tales of her battles with other giant figures, just as we evidently once had here.

Ghosts have been reported by local people upon this hill-top site; and there are a number of other folktales to be found here…which I’ll unfold over time as the months pass by…

References:

Anon., “Notes: The Brighton Dyke,” in The Antiquaries Journal, 5:4, October 1925.
Clinch, G., “Ancient Earthworks,” in Victoria County History of Sussex – volume 2 (edited by W. Page), St. Catherine’s Press: London 1905.
Cox, R. Hippisley, The Green Roads of England, Methuen: London 1927.
Hawkes, Jacquetta, A Guide to the Prehistoric and Roman Monuments in England and Wales, Chatto & Windus: London 1973.
Hogg, A.H.A., “Some Aspects of Surface Fieldwork,” in The Iron Age and its Hillforts (edited by M. Jesson & David Hill), Southampton University Archaeology Society 1971.
Simpson, Jacqueline, The Folklore of Sussex, Batsford: London 1973.
Simpson, Jacqueline, “Sussex Local Legends,” in Folklore Journal, volume 84, 1973.

St. Margaret’s Well, Binsey, Oxford, Oxfordshire

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Holy Well: OS Grid Reference – SP 486 080

Archaeology & History

A sacred water source that is thought to have taken its name from the adjacent church of St. Margaret (makes sense!). The site was described at some length in the fine work of Robert Charles Hope (1893), where he quoted extensively from earlier works:

“At the west end of this chappel, about three yards distant, is the well or spring, antiently and to this day called St. Margaret’s Well, being the very same that she by her prayers at the building of the chapple opened. Of which heare a certaine old English poet, who in the life of St. Frideswyde in the legend of English saints, speaking of her various fortunes and of her passage from Bampton to this place, saith thus:

Ther fer with her [fellows.] she be laft ther
And to serve Jhesu Christ . a chapel leet [raise.]
Ther as is yit a fayr cort . and a cherche fayr and swete
Arerid in the honour . of her and Seynte Margrete
As this mayde [lived.] ther . in holy lyf and clene
The maydenes that were with her . gone hem ofte be [bemoan.]
That water was sum del to fer . hem ofte for smale dede
And cride on Seynt Friswid . that she schold hem therof [rid]
This mayde Seynt Friswid . bad our lordis sonde
That he water thorw his gras . hem sente ner honde
So sprong ther up a welle . cler [enough] and clene
That fond hem water inowf . tho dorst hem nought be mene
That beside the cherche is [it] . in the west syde
That mony a mon hath bote do . and that men seggeth wide.

Over St. Margaret’s Well was a covering of stone, and thereon on the front the picture of St. Margaret (or perhaps St. Frideswyde), pulled down by Alderman Sayre, of Oxon, a little before the late war, 1639.

To this well also and her image and certaine reliques in the chapple did the people come on pilgrimage with as great devotion to ease their burdened soules and obtaine resolutions of their doubts, as they would to an oracle.

And here, also, when those maimed and unsound folke had bin cured either by bathing in, or drinking of; this water, hang up their crutches as a speciall memorandum of their cured griefs. For which end and purpose there were severall preists that inhabited here appointed by the Prior of St. Frideswide’s purposely to confess and absolve those pilgrims.

Near to this place it was that the Lady Edyne, of Wynton, the widdow of Sir William Lancelot, knight, had a vision. (See Twyne, xxi., 199.)

The well wee find almost to the last frequented by superstitious people, and especially about a hundred years before the dissolution. Soe much, that they were forced to enclose it–as in old time before, they had defended it–with a little house of stone over it with a lock and a dore to it. But all decaying and going much to ruine, at the suppression of St. Frideswyde’s Priory, was at last –I meane the little house–about twenty-five years agoe, pulled downe and quite taken away. Soe that now being overgrowne with nettles and other weeds, and harbouring frogs, snails, and vermin, scarce owneth the name of a well; noe more than the old and small building joyning to the north side of the chapple doth–as formally it did–a court.

The well is now in better condition. When I visited it on 25th October, 1887, the churchyard was tidily fenced and very neatly kept. At the well a descent of some five steps brought one to an arched vault, beneath which, in the centre of the flooring, was a round basin containing the water of the well, the surface of the water being about six feet below the level of the ground. On the wall above the arch was this inscription:

“S. MARGARET’S WELL.

S. Margaretae fontem, precibus S. Frideswidæ (ut fertur) concessum, nquinatum diu obrutumque in usum revocavit T. J. Prout, Aed. Xti alumnus, Vicarius, A. S. MDCCCLXXIV.

At the time of the restoration of this well, an Oxford wit, having regard to its proximity to the church, suggested for an inscription:

Ariston men hydor
When you open your pew-door,
This may comfort supply
Should the sermon be dry.
(Ibid., pp. 323-328, et seq.)

Denham Tracts, p. 151: The well of St. Margaret or St. Frideswide, in Binsey churchyard, scarce two miles from Oxford, is supposed to have sprung from the prayers of St. Frideswide, and many in olden times consulted it as an oracle on the state of their burdened souls; maimed and sick persons drank and bathed in the waters, and were cured by them. The stone edifice was in the last century destroyed, but has been restored.“

References:

Hope, R.C., The Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England, Elliot Stock: London 1893.

St. Agnes’ Well, Cothelstone, Somerset

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Holy Well: OS Grid Reference – ST 183 318

Folklore

In this lovely little hamlet we find an ancient well, registered as a scheduled monument in its well-house, but with a long history and lots of legends. It was said to have been a wishing well of considerable power, but many local people wouldn’t use it because it was also the place where mischievous pixies lived. It seems that one of its main magical properties was to divine the love of a person. The writer Ruth Tongue (1965) told a long tale she came across in her county folklore book about such a fortune:

“There was a maid servant, see, and she were coming on in years and she do serve a farmer’s wife as were high in station. Proper tackalackey she made of the dear soul, and she having no living kin. Twas pitiful, and her a-longing for a parcel of children underfoot, even if ’twas only to call her Auntie. But there, ‘twadn’t to be, and her with a heart so full a-drip with loving kindness as a honey comb. Oh, she were a proper mannerly maiden, no ways like her mistress who were just a old ewe dressed up lambs fashion and spending her days living two-three steps from nothing. But it didn’t seem like the maiden couldn’t never meet up with a proper man for her. She wadn’t no summer morning to look at, poor soul, and her mistress kept her so thin as a yard of pump water. But there Providence knows best! There were a old fellow over by Aisholt, and he were such a upstanding courageous man he’d a never got round to marrying, let alone finding the bravery to walk arm in crook with a maiden. Well o’ course he were lonely like she. And it come to a St. Agnes Eve when maids creepy over to her well at Cothelstone and whisper their heart’s desire when ’tis dark, and if St. Agnes do fancy the maiden she’ll send a husband that year. Now the poor maid she were coming to the end of her days of womanhood and beginning to blossom about the head, and she were desperate unhappy about it. Her heart was all a-set on children, and she find bravery to slip out after farm’s a-locked up. She didn’t feel ’twere mannerly to worrit St. Agnes over one who was so on in years when there was young maidens as plentiful as blackberries, so what do the dear soul do but go down all in the dimmit to the Wishing Well in Seven Wells Coombe. Proper unket well ’tis, and hard tew find. But St. Agnes must ha’ knowed, for she found’n though there wadn’ but little moon and old fellow he d’hear summat down in coombe and come to look-see. He were a wise old man and nothing hurted he, but he were shy of folks, seems like. Well, whether ’twere St. Agnes I can’t say, but in a year the farm was sold up and the maid was a-wed to the old fellow. So quiet as a sheep the man was, wouldn’ downarg no-one, but he made her a good husband. In a year or two she’d a babe in the cradle and one under her apron, and two clinging to her skirts, and they was all so happy as daisies in the sunshine, as they say.”

References:

Tongue, Ruth, Somerset Folklore,FLS: London 1965.

Hawk Stone, Spelsbury, Oxfordshire

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Standing Stone: OS Grid Reference – SP 33923 23544

Getting Here

Best visited out of season before the corn’s been planted. It makes it easier to find and doesn’t annoy the land-owner here, who tends to be a decent dood. From Chipping Norton go southeast along the B2046 road to Charlbury. After about 1½ miles take the second right turning down the small country lane. Go slowly down here for less than half a mile, watching the fields on your right. You’re damn close!

Archaeology & History

This impressive, weather-worn, eight-foot tall standing stone stands aloft in the middle of a field due west of the road between Chalford Green and Dean. It’s an excellent monolith and one which, I think, has a lot more occult history known of it than described here. Thought by O.G.S. Crawford (1925) and others in the past to have been “formerly part of a chambered structure,” or prehistoric chambered tomb like that of the Hoar Stone at nearby Enstone, no remains of such a structure unfortunately remain today. It is first illustrated and named on a local map of the region in 1743 CE, and the stone at least has fortunately managed to escape the intense agricultural ravages endemic to this part of the country.

The name “Hawk” stone has been fancied by some to relate to some obscure resemblence to a Hawk, or because there very often are hawks hovering over those upland fields – but these are unlikely. It’s thought by place-name authorities more likely to derive from a corruption of ‘Hoar’ meaning a grey or boundary stone; and as it stands just yards east of the present township boundary line, this derivation seems more probable.

To all lovers of megalithic sites, we highly recommend a visit here!

Folklore

In local folklore and in the opinion of some earlier historians, the Hawk Stone formed an integral part of a stone circle here, but there is little known evidence to substantiate this.

A creation legend attached to this site tells that the stone was thrown, or dragged across the land, by a old witch or hag — though we are not told from where. This is a motif found at megalithic sites all across the country (see Bord & Bord 1977; Grinsell 1976, etc). In Corbett’s History of Spelsbury (1962) the author told of the folklore spoken of by one Mr Caleb Lainchbury who

“said the cleft at the top of the Hawk Stone at Dean was supposed to of been made by the chains of the witches who were tied to it and burnt. As witches seem to have been extremely rare in Oxfordshire it cannot have been a very common practise to burn them at Dean; but there may indeed have been some kind of fire ceremonies near the stone.”

Grinsell (1976) also tells how the Hawk Stone has that animistic property, bestowed upon other old monoliths, of coming to life and going “down to the water to drink when it hears the clock strike 12.”

This evidently important and visually impressive monolith also plays an important part in an incredibly precise alignment (ley) running roughly east-west across the landscape. At first, Tom Wilson (1999) thought the alignment had previously gone unnoticed, but later we later found a reference to the same line in an early copy of The Ley Hunter (Cooper 1979). It links up with other important megalithic sites, such as the Hoar Stones at Enstone, Buswell’s thicket, and the ancient Sarsden Cross.

Similarly, when Tom Graves’ (1980) was doing some dowsing experiments at the Rollright stone circle a few miles west, he found what he described as an ‘overground’ (or ley) linking the ring of stones to the Hawk Stone, but no other connecting sites are known along this line.

References:

Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
Bord, Janet & Colin, The Secret Country, BCA: London 1977.
Cooper, Roy, “Some Oxfordshire Leys,” in The Ley Hunter, 86, 1979.
Corbett, Elsie, A History of Spelsbury, Cheney & Sons: Banbury 1962.
Crawford, O.G.S., The Long Barrows of the Cotswolds, John Bellows: Gloucester 1925.
Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire – volume 2, Cambridge University Press 1954.
Graves, Tom, Needles of Stone, Granada: London 1980.
Grinsell, L.V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: Newton Abbot 1976.

Thor Stone, Taston, Oxfordshire

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Standing Stone: OS Grid Reference – SP 3592 2208

Also Known as:

Thunor’s Stone

Getting Here

Thor Stone, Taston01 — Thor Stone, Taston, hiding in shadows on bright sunny day

Very easy! From which ever direction you approach the gorgeous little village of Taston, get to the Cross in the middle of the road and look up the slight hill and at the old walling on the right-hand side. You can’t really miss it!

Archaeology & History

An impressive seven-foot tall standing stone resting up against the walling of Martin and Martha’s Thorstone Cottage, and which appears to have been recorded as far back as the late thirteenth century in the survey of the Chadlington hundred. Indeed, according to the respective place-name authorities, the village of Taston itself appears to get its name from the Thor Stone, as it’s recorded as Thorstan in 1278 CE. (Gelling 1954)

Less than 100 yards away is a large old stone cross, the top of it now fallen, which may once have had some earlier pre-christian relationship with the Thor Stone; perhaps originating from other standing stones close by our now solitary Thor Stone (see Folklore, below). No other monoliths or prehistoric tombs are presently associated with this site, but its folklore tells of earlier companions…

More than a hundred miles north of here we find an etymological sister in the old village of Thurstaston and where, not surprisingly, we have another Thor’s Stone — but in this instance the name applies to a huge rock outcrop with old pagan legends attached.

Folklore

Elsie Corbett (1962) tells that the creation myth for this stone was that it originated after the great god Thor cast a thunderbolt down from the heavens and this stone appeared as a result. But more intriguing from an archaeological perspective is what Mike Howard (he of The Cauldron magazine) told us in a short article for the Gloucester Earth Mysteries magazine in 1994, which said that our grand old Thor Stone was once part of a stone circle. He wrote:

“At Taston…are the rather battered remains of a megalithic circle known locally as the Thor Stones. It seems the original circle was dug up many years ago and the stones now reside in a neat pile at the crossroads in the centre of the village. The whole edifice resembles nothing less than an eccentric market cross, topped by a phallic stone.”

Although he doesn’t cite any sources for this bit of info (where’d you gerrit from Mike?), we need to take a more careful look at the old cross nearby. And we find another piece of folklore relating to the Taston cross which said that it was placed there to abate the evil influences that were supposed to come from the Thor Stone. This piece of folklore is simply one laid down by the Church which portrayed most things it did not understand, or sought to repress, as being the work of their own demonic power, Satan.

Between these two old monuments was once a huge old elm tree which, says Caroline Pumphrey (1990), was a meeting place of the local villagers in times gone by. Whether this implies the Thor Stone to have been a moot spot is difficult to tell, although the erection of the cross would seem to add weight to this.

More recent screwy notions comes from one woman who reckoned, curiously, that the Thorstone got its name from some completely invented made-up goddess, saying:

“I believe its more likely to be a corruption of the name of ‘Hoar’, the great Goddess. Indeed the Hawk Stone, and various Hoar stones stand widely hereabouts and probably derived their names from the same deity.”

Utter drivel of course (there’s no such goddess as Hoar)! But — like the christians and others before them — people believe what they want to believe and this sorta nonsense is increasingly found all over the internet. As is well known, the word hoar derives from ‘har’, being ‘grey’ or ‘a boundary’ (Gelling, 1954; Smith 1956); and numerous studies show this quite clearly.

References:

Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
Corbett, Elsie, A History of Spelsbury, Cheney & Sons: Banbury 1962.
Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire – volume 2, Cambridge University Press 1954.
Grigson, Geoffrey, The Shell Country Book, George Rainbird: London 1962.
Howard, Mike, ‘From Thor to Rollright,’ in Gloucestershire Earth Mysteries 18, 1994.
Pumphrey, Caroline, Charlbury of our Childhood, Sessions Book: York 1984.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.

Lesser Cursus, Larkhill, Wiltshire

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Cursus Monument: OS Grid Reference – SU 1056 4350

Also Known as:

Small Cursus
Stonehenge Smaller Cursus

Archaeology & History

Small Cursus (Fergusson 1872) — James Fergusson’s drawing of both cursus monuments

Just like its much larger companion, the Stonehenge Cursus earthwork a short distance to the south, this Lesser or Small Cursus is generally deemed by archaeologists to “speak of a clear religious or ritual aspect to this patch of downland that…reaches back generations before the first Stonehenge was built.” (Pitts 2001) The monument was aligned roughly east-west, showing possible relationships with the rising and setting of both sun and moon. (though I wouldn’t get too carried away with that misself…)

When Fergusson (1872) described this and its larger cursus companion a few hundred yards away, he thought they may have been dug to mark out lines of battle in prehistoric times, denouncing the horse-racing course hypothesis that was still in vogue at the time. His theory drew evidence from the numerous prehistoric tombs scattering this area of Salisbury Plain, but seemed more influenced by notions of prehistoric barbarism and warfare than ideas relating to a cult of the dead — which was yet to reach it heights in the archaeological minds of Victorian England. But, like other cursus monuments all over the British Isles, this one also seemed to have a distinct relationship with monuments of the dead: for at its western extremity (until being ploughed out of existence) was a large round barrow, catalogued as the “Winterbourne 35” tomb. Tim Darvill (2006) tells its wider tale:

“Levelled by ploughing between 1934 and 1954, the Lesser Cursus was investigated in 1983 as part of the Stonehenge Environs Project… Three trenches were cut into different parts of this large monument, showing that there were at least two main phases to its construction. Phase 1 comprised a slightly trapezoidal enclosure 200m by 60m, whose ditch may have been recut more than once and in part at least deliberately back-filled. In Phase 2 this early enclosure was remodelled by elongating the whole structure eastwards by another 200m. This extension comprised only two parallel side ditches, making the whole thing about 400m long with a rectilinear enclosure at the west end with entrances in its northeast and southeast corners giving access into a second rectilinear space, in this case open to the east.”

Lesser Cursus (richards 1990) — Ground-plan of the Lesser Cursus (after Richards 1990)

The entire structure had finds dating from the periods between 3650-2900 BC; and the aerial imagery showing an oval-shaped structure near the eastern end was confirmed by geophysical surveys — though precisely what this is has yet to be ascertained.

It seems likely that this and other cursus monuments were, to a very great degree, not only related to mortuary practices but — as their development occurred at the same time as the destruction of Britain’s great forests began — to be monuments to the gods themselves. This seems very evident at a couple of cursus monuments where animal deposits were made in some of the great mounds at their terminii, where archaeologists had previously assumed— incorrectly — the mounds to have been human burial mounds. More about this in due course…

References:

Darvill, Tim, Stonehenge: The Biography of a Landscape, Tempus: Stroud 2006.
Devereux, Paul, The Haunted Land, Piatkus: London 2001.
Fergusson, James, Rude Stone Monuments in all Countries, John Murray: London 1872.
Loveday, Roy, Inscribed Across the Landscape, Tempus: Stroud 2006.
North, John, Stonehenge, Harper-Collins: London 1997.
Pitts, Mike, Hengeworld, Arrow: London 2001.
Richards, Julian, The Stonehenge Environs Project, English Heritage: London 1990.