Follow the same directions as if you’re visiting the impressive Fairy Stone carving, then check out the overgrown rock three yards away, to the east. You might have to rummage under the scrubbage to see it, but you’ll find it if you want to!
Archaeology & History
I first found this stone in the 1980s when I’d been shown the Fairy Stone carving which, at the time, was thought to be all alone. But I used the olde adage: “where’s there’s one cup-and-ring, others tend to be“—and found this and several others closed by.
Large messy cup-and-ring
It’s a relatively small, slightly-domed earthfast rock, upon which we find an unusually large cup-and-double-ring design with a carved line running from the large central cup out to the edge of the stone. However, the carved lines that constitute both the inner and outer rings are ‘crude’ in form and style when compared to the vast majority of other British petroglyphs; and for some reason, this aspect of the design has me casting doubts over its prehistoric authenticity. I hope I’m wrong!
References:
Bennett, Paul, ‘Tales of Yorkshire Faeries,’ in Earth 9, 1988.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Coming up from Otley, make your way up to the Askwith Moor road (the only one that goes across the moors) and park up on the rough parking spot on the right-side (east) of the road. You can’t really miss it. From here walk up the road for less than 500 yards until your reach the rickety gate and the path onto the moors. From here I walked 600 yards east, thru the heather until I reached the wall (close to the Tree of Life Stone) and then followed the wall up for 150 yards, then back up (west) onto the moor again and, about 50 yards along at the foot of the slope, keep your eyes peeled for the earthworky undulations beneath your tiny feet!
Archaeology & History
Just below the scattered Snowden Moor settlement we find this curious large structure, first described 75 years ago by the northern antiquarian Eric T. Cowling (1946). Since then, apart from a cursory overview, archaeologists haven’t really paid it much attention.
Eastern ditch, looking NEastern ditch, looking S
It’s a large site – and one which Cowling thought was constructed in the Iron Age. He may have been right, but there’s such a profusion of ancient sites on this small moorland area—dating from Neolithic times onwards—that it could be earlier than he thought. It’s an odd site too! Unlike the prehistoric D-shaped enclosure and settlement on the top of the slope less than 100 yards away, and an equivalent D-shaped enclosure to the south, the area inside Cowling’s enclosure ostensibly is on quite sloping ground, with barely a flat level area anywhere inside it. As a result of this, we can safely conclude that it wasn’t where people lived; and the complete lack of any inner hut circles (which you’d expect in a standard enclosure of this size) encourages this view. It’s a bit of a puzzle! Cowling opted for the idea that it was built to enclose cattle – which may be right; but again, even this must be questioned, as there is ample space on more level ground where this could have been done. His description of the site is as follows:
“The most prominent feature (on these moors) is a D-shaped enclosure which covers the nose of the spur; the area is eighty feet from north to south and seventy feet from east to west. The enclosing bank is of piled boulders, three feet high and eight feet wide. Cuttings across the north side revealed no evidence of dry walling, but rather a bank to carry a heavy stockade. A shallow trench runs inside the bank, which is doubled where it is overlooked by higher ground at the northeast corner. A second outer bank at the eastern side has an outer trench. Along the ridge to the east are circles of varying size, probably a hut group. A larger circle (?) of heavy material, some thirty feet in diameter, is isolated on the shelf above Snowden Crags to the west. Strips of wall and remains of enclosures of circular shape abound.”
Cowling’s plan of the siteNorthern bank, looking E
Cowling’s initial measurements of the site underestimated its real size, as the bank and ditch that runs roughly north-south is close to 52 yards—nearly twice as long! The same was found along its east-west size: being 56 yards, which is more than twice what Cowling measured. Altogether, the enclosure measures approximately 225 yards around its outer edges. In fairness, Cowling’s error was probably due to it being covered in vegetation when he came to do his measurements here. …So, if you’re gonna check this place out, make sure you do it in the winter or early spring months, before the bracken encroaches.
There’s a real abundance of prehistoric sites all over this part of the moor, from more settlement remains, cairns, ring cairns and petroglyphs. Make a day out of it.
References:
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
If you’re coming via Ilkley, cross the bridge to Middleton and turn left, following the long winding road for several miles until you hit Langbar village. If you’re coming via Bolton Bridge, go to Beamsley village and turn left up Lanshaw Bank until you hit Langbar village. Whichever of the two routes you use: on the north side of Langabr village is a distinct small rough car park. From here, cross the road where the footpath sign is and walk straight up the steep hill to Beamsley Beacon at the top. You can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
At the highest point on these hills, 1300 feet up, we come across this ancient prehistoric cairn. Its position in the landscape is impressive to say the least, being visible from nearly every direction on the moorland heights for many miles around, as well as being conspicuous from the riverlands below. A visit to the site nowadays shows it surmounted by a more recent mass of small stones turning it into a large walker’s cairn with only its compact base showing any real sign of antiquity.
Site shown on 1853 mapWestern side of the cairn
Mentioned briefly in parish records from 1658 onwards, it was highlighted on the earliest OS-map as simply a Beacon hill, due to it being used for beacon fires. We’re not certain when its beaconesque function first came about; and, it’s possible, that its beacon element could have replaced a much earlier heathen fiery function, typical of many hilltop sites up and down this and other countries. But we do know that such fires were lit here at the beginning of the 19th century. The great Harry Speight (1900) told that of its
“use as a prospecting-point and beacon there is no doubt. In the Bolton Abbey registers, under date 1803, is this entry:
“Apprehensive of a French invasion, Beamsley Beacon was put in a state of repair, and four people appointed to watch it. About — of the inhabitants of this chapelry inrolled themselves as Volunteers, the whole number of whom in Craven amounted to 1,200 Infantry and 200 Cavalry. A Sergeant was appointed to drill the volunteers of this chapelry at Bolton.”
The beacon at this time received light from Pinhaw on Carlton Moor and sent it forward to Otley Chevin, as appears by an old chart at Wakefield, dated 1803.”
The beacon’s ancient name of Howber Hill is literally the Hill of Tombs, as derived from the Teutonic haugr, and Anglian how, being a burial mound; and berg is a hill, sometimes fortified. Whilst there seems to be no evidence of ancient fortification, compacted cairn material at the base seems to confirms the -how element. Yet despite Speight citing this etymology, he was was somewhat sceptical wondering, instead, if the site was merely a giant boundary marker—which it has been for centuries.
A short distance along the footpath to the east is the denuded old cairn known as The Old Pike. Further east still, along the same boundary line, there was once another old tomb, long since gone…
Folklore
I’m not sure whether this should gone in the folklore section or not. But, well, it’s here nonetheless! In Guy Phillips’s (1976) book on the mythic history of ancient Brigantia, he describes a number of alignments, or leys (not one of those stupid energy lines, which has nowt to do with leys)—one of which crosses Beamsley Beacon. It’s an west-east line that begins at Cockerham and from there goes,
“through Top of Blaze Moss SD 619525, Slaidburn (it is very clear here), Flambers Hill SD 877523, southern edge of Copy Hill 952523, Draughton (extremely clear), Beamsley Gibbeter and Beamsley Beacon, Heligar Pike, Scow Hall 203523, Little Almscliffe Crag, Tockwith church and on to the coast.”
I have to say that I’m sceptical of the veracity of this alignment.
References:
Bogg, Edmund, Higher Wharfeland, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Cobley, Fred, On Foot through Wharfedale, William Walker: Otley 1880.
Phillips, Guy Ragland, Brigantia – A Mysteriography, RKP: London 1976.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 5, Cambridge University Press 1963.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to James Elkington for use of his photo on this site profile. Cheers mate. 😉
Take the A917 road southeast out of St Andrews, heading towards the hamlet of Boarhills about 4 miles away. However, about a half-mile before you get to Boarhills, keep your eyes peeled for a small minor road on your right, signposted to Dunino, 3 miles. Go along here for about 350 yards where you’ll reach a track cutting across the road. Walk up the gently sloping field here on your right and you’ll see, 400 yards from the road whence you’ve parked, a tall thin upright stone standing alone…
Archaeology & History
Highlighted on the 1893 and 1896 OS-maps (as merely a “Stone”), this tall and incredibly skinny standing stone has seen better days. After many-a-millenia, the god of storms cut the stone to the ground not too many years ago, leaving it broken in the middle o’ the field where once it stood. Thankfully however, local folk ensured that it was eventually resurrected and fixed into position once more, albeit in a somewhat ugly cage—or corset as Mr Hornby called it!
The Royal Commission (1933) lads checked the stone out for inclusion in one of their damn good surveys, they told us the following:
“About midway between the farms of Polduff and Peekie, and on the south side of the Anstruther and St Andrews Railway, 200 feet above sea level, there is a fine block of red sandstone, which rises to a height of just over 9 above ground. It averages 4¼ inches in thickness and measures 2 feet 4 inches wide across the broad faces. The stone has been set up with the major axis north-east and south-west and has been well packed round the base with smaller stones.”
Interestingly—to me anyhow—when the monolith was recently stood back in its upright position, the archaeo’s found a spring of water beneath it. Many dowsers (and I don’t mean the ones who fallaciously reckon they’re finding ‘energy lines’ all over the place) have found the crossing of underwater streams and water sources to be a common feature beneath megalithic sites.
Folklore
In Richard Batchelor’s (1997) short work on the ancient sites of this area, he calls attention to what a Mr N. Dow thought was a ley-line passing from the cairn on top of Kellie Hill 4¾ miles (7.64km) away, northeast to the Peekie Stone, and which Mr Batchelor points out is close to the major lunar standstill.
References:
Batchelor, Richard A., Origin of St Andrews, Shieling: St Andrews 1997.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the Counties of Fife, Kinross and Clackmannan, HMSO: Edinburgh 1933.
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to Paul Hornby for use of his photos.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 6071 5187
Archaeology & History
At the beginning of the 19th century, William Hargrove (1818) described the scant remains of some old walling along old Haver Lane (renamed as Green Lane and now known as The Stonebow) which were the remains of a building, long gone, and which,
“tradition informs us (was) a religious house, which formerly stood here, called Holy-Priests; and though the site of it is not known, the report is greatly strengthened by the appearance of the walls just mentioned, and by the circumstance of a deep draw-well which now remains, being still called Holy-Priests Well.”
Some suggest that this water source may still exist beneath one of the buildings hereby, but the landscape here has been so badly mutilated over the last two hundred years that it’s very unlikely.
References:
Hargrove, Willliam, History and Description of the Ancient City of York – volume 2, part 2, W. Alexander: York 1818.
Holy Well (destroyed?): OS Grid Reference – SO 9609 8284
Archaeology & History
The site on the 1904 map
Shown on the 1904 OS-map, beneath the aptly-named St Margaret’s Hill on its northern side, we can see where the holy well of St Margaret used to be, not too long ago. Although it seems to have fallen pray to industrial destruction, there are a number of old references to the site, mainly gathered together in Jeremy Harte’s (2008) magnum opus on the subject. It was also mentioned in a survey by the British Geological Society (Richardson 1930) where we were told that it was,
“in the private grounds of a house recently erected, and is a spring issuing from the Halesowen Sandstone at the junction of two faults (shown west of the ‘H’ of Hasbury on the new series Geological Map, Sheet 168) about 100 yds SW of the point where Blackberry Lane joins Hagley Road. It is referred to, as a well of good cold unmineralised water, by T. Nash in 1781.”
And it was Mr Nash who gave us the earliest description of the place, saying:
“In the hamlet or township of Hasbury is an ancient holy well, called St Margaret’s Well, which formerly had much good stonework about it; but that was wholly removed in the year 1747. One of these stones contained some curious sculpture, the figure of a man in a posture of hasty walking, and in the next compartment that of another man leaning on crutches… This place is called Margaret’s Hill and the water of the well supplies a small brook, which runs below the Grange, and falls into a piece of water at the end of the town, called Cornbow Pool.”
It’s more than probable that the old carvings he described—of one man on crutches and the other of a figure walking speedily—represents one of the main curative allegations that these waters possessed. Cases of people walking on crutches to sacred wells, drinking the waters, then walking away without them (and in many cases leaving their crutches at the well-side as testament to its properties) are commonplace. And, aptly enough, the curative elements of this ancient site has been maintained in modern times with the medical centre of St Margaret’s Well Surgery being built by this very spot!
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SK 589 790
Also Known as:
Prior Well
Archaeology & History
Once to be seen in the ancient landscape immediately northwest of Worksop Priory by the old Mill Pond, this sacred well has sadly been built over, but memory of it is still retained in Priorswell street-name and, previously, the Priorwell Brewery. Not much has been written about it, but thankfully the historian John Holland (1826) gave us a short account, saying:
“There is a spring, now enclosed, called the “Priorwell,” and a meadow, of four acres, denominated from the same; and from which, it might be presumed, that the canons would draw their supplies of water, was it not for the convenient proximity of the river, which they must have had to ford for that purpose. It was “formerly”, says Parkyns, in his Monastic and Baronial Remains, “celebrated for miraculous cures; but since monastic deceptions have unveiled themselves, votaries no longer offer, and consequently cures are no longer performed.” This may have been the case: more recently the well has been resorted to by persons having sore eyes, in the cure of which, it is said to be efficacious, and has probably the common virtue of fresh cool spring-water.”
References:
Holland, John, The History, Antiquities and Description of the Town and Parish of Worksop, J. Blackwell: Sheffield 1826.
Parkyns, George I., Monastic and Baronial Remains – volume 1, Longmans Hurst: London 1816.
From Kilmartin go north on the A816 Oban road, and after 1½ miles watch out for the small B840 road on your right, to Ford and Loch Awe. Less than a mile along the winding road, just after the track to the farmhouse on your left, keep your eyes peeled for the standing stone on your right, whose top is peeking over the old walling. If you’re not careful you’ll miss it!
Archaeology & History
From the roadside this looks like just a reasonably small standing stone, but closer inspection shows it’s been snapped halfway up—apparently in a great storm in December 1879. If you look over the wall, just a couple of yards behind the upright you’ll see the larger section of stone that was attached to the 6-foot upright before its calamitous fall. Originally it was said to have been 16 feet tall!
Broken bit laid flatFrom the roadside
The first description of the stone is thought to be by the great J. Romilly Allen (1880) in his brief visit to Ford, saying simply that the stone “is close to the road on the east side, 1 mile from Ford. It is 14 feet high and 3 feet by 4 feet at the base. The material is slate. It inclines considerably from the perpendicular”—meaning, that he saw it before the stone had been broken. Lucky bugger!
More than twenty years later David Christison (1904) visited the site and wrote his of his finds in an essay for the Society of Antiquaries, although in truth he said little more than anyone before and after has been able to say:
“A mile and a quarter south-south-west of Ford Church, 130 yards east by south of Creagantairbh Beag farmhouse, close to the west side of the highway, stands the base of an obelisk, at the foot of which the shaft lies prostrate. The base is 5 feet 6 inches high,’and has an oblique ledge, half way up on to which the shaft would accurately fit. If restored, the height of the stone would be 16 feet 2 inches above ground, and it must have had a very handsome appearance, tapering in width as it gradually does from 2 feet 6 inches to 2 feet. It is 18 inches thick at the base and 10 inches to 12 inches at the top.”
Christison’s 1904 sketch
The name Creagantairbh derives from the Crag of the Bull, which is the sharp hill immediately in front of you to the north; and its geological consort, the Creag a’ Chapuill (or Crag of the Horse) rises to its immediate northwest. A few hundred yards further along the road towards Ford is the large Auchinellan standing stone.
Folklore
When I lived in Ford many years ago, the olde folk told me how, in bygone centuries, bulls were sacrificed on the Creagantairbh above.
Make your way to the Black Beck tomb and walk west for some 50 yards. If the heather has grown any more than a foot tall, it’s impossible to see.
Archaeology & History
Near the northernmost section of the Hawksworth Shaw prehistoric graveyard, some 50 yards west of the Black Beck cairn, exists the remains of a small prehistoric enclosure whose walling is deeply embedded in the peat. Although I describe the place as an ‘enclosure’, we don’t know for certain whether it is a ruined settlement or large hut circles (although this latter idea is the more improbable).
Walling, looking NArc of walling, looking S
Two large open arcs of walling—like large letter “C’s”—with their open sides to the east, have been constructed next to each other, virtually coming together in the shape of an inverted number “3”. The walling in the southern arc—measuring some 33 yards in length and barely higher than 1 foot above ground level—consists of standard stones and rubble, similar to some of the hut circles that are found in greater abundance on the north-side of Ilkley Moor. The smaller, less visible arc of stones—some 18 yards of it—is lower in the earth. Both lines of walling may have been robbed in part to construct some of the extensive cairns close by, as neither of the two arcs were very high and it was very difficult to work out even what sort of structure they might have been.
Like many other prehistoric sites on Rombalds Moor, only an excavation is going to tell us precisely what was going on here…
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 4007 3046
Also Known as:
Grey Friar’s Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1776 map
This is another one of Dundee’s lost holy wells (see also the Lady Well, the Nine Wells, St Clement’s Well, St Mary’s Well and Sinavey Well), around which the town was first built. Its cold fresh waters were located less than a hundred yards north of the old Houff graveyard in the middle of town, or where Alex Maxwell (1884) described as upon “the sunny slopes of the Gray Friars’ meadows.”
Maxwell told us that this sacred site was the most favoured of the the holy wells in the area, having been dedicated to St Francis of Assisi by the monks who built the medieval Grey Friars monastery, whose ruins lie beneath the Houff graveyard. After the destruction of the priory in the 16th century, the holy well and surrounding meadows came under the ownership of the local council. The well had become ruinous and so was repaired back to its old condition, but a few decades later had become very neglected again and was ordered to be closed. It was mentioned in several early land rental documents, including this from 1630 which told,
“That haugh or meadow lying on the south side of the Tentour Hill, and on the east side of the meadow called Monorgan’s croft, togidder with the lands lying about St. Francis’ well, were set for the yearly penny mail of fifty-ane pounds.”
The most extensive description of it came from Alex Maxwell’s own pen, and I reproduce it here in full. He began by speaking of the other holy wells of Our Lady and St. Clement’s in Dundee, but told us that,
“The most important of them was the Gray Friars’ well, which came out of the rising ground westward from where the High School is built, and had been dedicated to the honour of St. Francis, the founder of the order — a man of exalted character, whom Dean Milman calls “most blameless and gentle.” The water, which ran perennially and was of singular purity, had no doubt been highly venerated in the days of the old Church, and it continued to be much esteemed, and even to maintain somewhat of its traditional sanctity, long after the memory of the good man whose name it bore had become forgotten.
“When the Friars’ house was in ruins, and the gardens laid waste, St. Francis’ well did not escape unharmed. One austere iconoclast—James Patrie was his name—had probably been offended at its sculptural reminiscences of the old faith, and he cast it down. When arraigned to answer for this,
“he confest and grantit that he took down the common well callit the Friar well, quhilk servit the haill town with guid and wholesome water, and referrit him in the Bailies’ and Council’s will thereanent; and they being advisit with his offence, declarit that he sail pay for the reparation of the said well and common warks the soum of ten pounds; always, gif he big and repair the well as Weill as it wes of before with lime mortar, or Pasch next, this pain to be remitted; otherwise, the day past and the well nocht biggit, to pay the said soum but favour.”
James, however, proved contumacious; the day did pass, and the well still lay in ruins. But he got further time, for the Council not yet having possession of the monastic lands, had not chosen to act arbitrarily, and
“James Patrie was ordained to repair the Friar well conform to the last act, under the pain contenit thereintil, betwix the date hereof and Whitsunday;”
and he probably then proceeded to restore it into good condition, as we do not find any other ordinance on the matter. He had not, however, erected it very substantially; for, before thirty years had elapsed, the structure was again ruinous, and the Council resolved
“that St. Francis’ well be of new biggit and made close, so that na common access be had thereto.”
“The meadow land of the Gray Friars which lay around the well, formed a pleasant open space for the use of the old burgh, and it was always held in much regard. Early in last century, the water from the Lady well was impounded and conveyed in pipes for supplying other cisterns throughout the town ; but St. Francis’ spring, which was softer and purer, was left undisturbed to flow down the grassy slope in its natural course ; and when the place became appropriated for homely purposes, and upon
“Its verdant braes,
The lasses used to wash and spread their claes,”
“the gossiping naiads made the meadow very lively as they plashed in the brimming basins of the Friars’ old well, or filled their pitchers at the fresh fountain, or sprinkled the water in crystal showers over their snowy linen. About the time that the ground was sacrificed for the erection of buildings, a dyer in the neighbourhood sank a well which evidently reached the source of the spring and drained it off. Years afterwards, when the place had been overbuilt, he ceased to use his well, and the stream, returning to its old course, found access into the lower part of a church which now covers the site of the fountain, much to the dismay of the deacons. The water was then carried off elsewhere, and will be seen no more ; and the remembrance of those virtues which belonged to the once famous well will soon have passed away.”
In Christian lore, St Francis’ festival day was October 4.
