Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 094 242
Archaeology & History
Shaw Hill urn
The remains here have long since succumbed to that self-righteous advance of industrial civilization. Even when the Halifax historian John Watson (1775) first described what had been here, the burial mound had gone; but thankfully he was fortunate in getting details regarding the whereabouts and contents of the remains. Three burial urns were found next to each other — presumably in the same tumulus — one of which was in a reasonably good state of preservation, as shown from the illustration which I reproduce here. We have no description of the burial mound, only of the urns, of which Mr Watson told us:
“It was found, with two others, at the gates, at the bottom of the walk near Shaw Hill, leading to the house in Skircoat, called Heath. They lay in a line, one yard deep and one yard asunder, with their mouths downwards. This contained calcined bones, and dust; the two others were broken in pieces. It is eight inches deep, stands upon a bottom of four inches diameter and, where there is no moulding, is from twenty-one inches, or thereabouts, to twenty-three inches in circumference.”
It was of similar size and design to burial urns found at Tower Hill a couple of miles west of Halifax. In Prof Watson’s (1952) work on the prehistoric sites of Calderdale, he assigned this burial mound and pottery to have been from the Bronze Age.
References:
Leyland, F.A., The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, by the Reverend John Watson, M.A., R.Leyland: Halifax n.d. (c.1867)
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners, 1767-1783; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F.King: Halifax 1906.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, HSS: Halifax 1952.
Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 088 256
Archaeology & History
The place-name authority A.H. Smith (1961), in searching for the meaning behind the old region in Halifax known as “stannary”, just west of the town centre, was puzzled by its implications and found it wanting, so he took the most likely option as he saw it, writing, “probably it is a stone circle,” from the archaic verbs stan (stone) and hring (ring).
First recorded in the Halifax Court Rolls of 1575 as “Stannerying”, this implied it to be a place where tin-ware was sold in a field, “though that word belongs rather to Cornwall,” he said, and it appeared out of place at the time it was written. So he looked elsewhere. The Halifax Parish Registers of 1578 didn’t help much, describing the place as “Stanerye.” However, the Halifax Rent Records of 1588 named it as “Standeringe”, which is much closer to Smith’s idea. With each written instance we certainly find the old English stan, but the suffix in two instances is difficult to assess with firm conviction.
If we could locate additional folklore or other historical data that might throw further light on this, it would be an important find. The finding of prehistoric burial remains less than a mile south of Stannary on the other side of town shows that ancient man was in Halifax, but it would be good if we could find more…
References:
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire, Cambridge University Press 1961-63.
Cairns (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 053 261
Archaeology & History
F.A. Leyland’s drawing of the urns
There’s really nowt to see around here nowadays (apart from a lovely view of the hills and the Calder valley), but it seems that not-too-long ago there were several burials in evidence upon this hill. F.A. Leyland (1867) gives a quite detailed account of the urns and their discovery, which have been variously thought of as Roman, then Saxon, then prehistoric — with them finally ascribed as Bronze Age in Watson’s (1952) survey of the region. Not too far away could once be found the legendary Robin Hood’s stone circle, which might have had some relationship with the burials here — though we’ll probably never know for sure! Leyland’s (1867) lengthy notes of this site told:
“An interesting discovery was made in…recent times, of a number of cinerary urns in the township of Warley. The site of the interments was at Tower Hill, a position on a line of military defences which extended from the entrenchments of Hunter’s Hill to Camp End in this township. The urns were found in the process of quarrying for stone; but, owing to the nature of the operations, and the unlooked for discovery of such relics as these or the total absence of all knowledge of their value, by the people employed, many similar remains are known to have been demolished as worthless objects.
“On one occasion, however, an urn, bleached by the tempests of an entire winter, was observed to protrude half its own bulk from the stratum of soil in which it had been originally buried.
“The curiosity of the labourers was excited, and the relic was removed. It was found to contain bones and ashes which the people, ever prone to the marvellous, held to be the remains of a child which had been destroyed by foul means and there buried. This opinion was noised abroad, and the true nature of the interment explained. We examined a fragment of this relic: it was rudely constructed of sun-burnt clay, and was grimed in the inside as if by the smouldering embers of the funeral pyre, and the smoking ashes of the dead, on their introduction to their narrow urn.
“This had been filled with these human exuviæ; and appeared to have been lined with moss mixed with fibres of plants which, after the urn had fallen in pieces, adhered firmly to its contents. It was thirteen or fourteen inches high, and was no doubt made by the hand alone. Within a few yards of this, another urn was found, containing bones and ashes, but so far decomposed as to preclude the possibility of its preservation: near the same place the smaller urn in our illustration was discovered buried in the dark soil peculiar to the locality; it was filled with calcined bones and ashes and, like the one found at Upleton—and in the possession of Dr Young of Whitby—had a small clay vessel placed within it, which is represented in our engraving. The urn was, moreover, protected by a lid, resembling the inverted stand of an ordinary flower-pot: the relic measured six inches high.
“During the winter of 1848, a date subsequent to the above discoveries, there was a fall of earth from the same spot, into the quarry at Tower Hill; the soil, thus precipitated from the moor, impeded the operations of the labourers; and, on its removal, the larger urn of our illustration was brought to light. This relic measured nine inches high and was twenty-two in circumference; but, in the rubbish, there were observed numerous fragments of other cinerary urns, and equally numerous relics of cremation.
“These discoveries lead one to one of two conclusions: either that Tower Hill was the field of some formidable engagement, in which numbers fell; or, that it was used as a place of frequent sepulture by the primitive inhabitants of the locality. It is not at all improbable that these urns were the produce of some local pottery, if not made by the same hand, as the one described by Watson (1775), the patterns indented on the two upper compartments of the smaller vessel being of the same kind, and occupying the same positions as the one referred to.
“The larger urn, as will be observed, is divided like the others into three compartments, the upper one standing out in relief, but having a different kind of decoration resembling herring-bone masonry; while the smaller one of our illustration, and that of Watson, are furnished with a zigzag design. But, although there is this slight variation in the upper moulding of the larger vessel, they all possess the lozenge-shaped decoration in their central compartments.”
We haven’t yet explored this site diligently and also know that if we have to await the slow hand of archaeology here we’d be waiting an aeon, but Tower Hill’s position in the landscape would tend to indicate the latter of Leyland’s earlier suggestions regarding the nature of the finds, i.e., the hill was a prehistoric graveyard, though of unknown size.
References:
Leyland, F.A., The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, by the Reverend John Watson, M.A., R.Leyland: Halifax n.d. (c.1867)
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners, 1767-1783; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F.King: Halifax 1906.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, HSS: Halifax 1952.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0095 2748
Archaeology & History
Up behind the old pub that was The Mount Skip, high on the ridge above Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd, overlooking the Calder Valley for many miles, was once — it would seem — a number of fine prehistoric remains, long since destroyed by the industrial advance of quarrying and such likes. Amidst what seems to have been settlement remains and, perhaps, timber circles, an ancient grave was also known here. In Mr Ling Roth’s (1906) essay on the prehistoric remains of the Halifax region, he wrote:
“In May, 1897, a grave was discovered at a quarry above Mount Skip Inn. The first indications were the rolling down of pieces of urns which the delvers called flower pots. Then in digging into a hole to fix the leg of a crane, human bones were discovered, Mr Crossley Ainsworth told me: “The grave was about 6ft (1.8m) long, from 14 to 18in (35-45.7cm) wide and about 2ft (61cm) deep…the head and feet were almost exactly north and south, with the face right towards the midday sun.” The bones were very brittle and crumbled easily in the hand. There was a lot of charcoal in the grave. In the ends of the grave which were undisturbed, “there appeared to be about 6in (15cm) thick of charred wood and bones mixed together at the bottom. Flints were also found. Also the larger half of a small earthenware vessel which had rolled down into the quarry ; this was picked up by a man named Thos. Greenwood, of Shawcroft Hill.”
The site was mentioned again nearly fifty years later in Geoffrey Watson’s (1952) survey, but with no additional details.
References:
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners 1767-183; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F. King and Son: Halifax 1906.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, Halifax Scientific Society 1952.
From the village of Midgley, high above the A646 Halifax-to-Todmorden road, travel west along the moorland road until you reach the sharp-ish bend in the road, with steep wooded waterfall to your left and the track up to the disused quarry of Foster Clough. Go up the Foster Clough track for 100 yards and, when you reach the gate in front of you, go over it but follow the line of the straight walling uphill by the stream-side (instead of following the path up the quarries) all the way to the top. Here you’ll see the boundary stone of Churn Milk Joan.
Archaeology & History
The present large standing stone you see before you isn’t prehistoric. However, the small broken piece on the ground by its side may have been its prehistoric predecessor; and there is certainly something of an archaic nature here — albeit a contentious one — as we find old cup-markings cut into its eastern face.
Two ‘cup-marks’ on eastern face
The upright is roughly squared and faces the cardinal points. It was described in Mr Heginbottom’s (1977) unpublished survey on Calderdale rock art, where he described there being a few cup-markings inscribed on its east- and south-facing edges, some of which may be prehistoric — though they would obviously have had to have been carved upon the upright stone when it still lay earth-fast. However, we must posit the the notion (unless some of you have better ideas) that the tradition of etching cup-marks onto rocks was still occurring in this part of Yorkshire until the late Middle Ages, as this stone was, as we know from boundary records, only placed upright to mark the meeting of the three boundaries of Wadsworth, Hebden Royd and Sowerby.
Churn Milk Joan’s other name, Saville’s Low, originates from the great Saville family who owned great tracts of land across the region in the fourteenth century, possibly when the Churn Milk Joan we see today was created. The word “lowe” may derive from the old word meaning, “moot or gathering place,” which this great stone probably served as due to its siting at the junction of the three townships.*
Folklore
In modern times the stone has become a focus for a number of local pagans and New Agers who visit and ‘use’ the site in their respective ways at certain times of the day, albeit estranged (ego-bound) from the original mythic nature of the site.
The name of the stone comes from an old legend about a milk-maid named Joan who, whilst carrying milk across the moors between Luddenden and Pecket Well, got caught in a blizzard and froze to death. When her body was found many days later, the stone we see here today was erected to commemorate the spot where she died. Although such a scenario is quite likely on these hills, as Andy Roberts (1992) said,
“Considering the sheer amount of sites with similar legends this explanation is unlikely to be true and we should looker deeper for the meaning behind Churn Milk Joan, to be found in its positioning in the landscape and ourindividual feelings about it.” [see profiles for the Two Lads and the Lad o’ Crow Hill sites)
The monolith’s other title, Churnmilk Peg, is the name given to an old hag who is said to be the guardian of nut thickets. How this female sprite came to find her abode upon these high hills is somewhat of an enigma, but it was first stated as such in an article by Andy Roberts (1989) in “Northern Earth Mysteries” magazine. E.M. Wright (1913) noted this supernatural creature in her work on folk dialect, describing it as a West Yorkshire elemental who, along with another one known as Melsh Dick:
“are wood-demons supposed to protect soft, unripe nuts from being gathered by naughty children, the former being wont to beguile her leisure by smoking a pipe.”
Another legend of the stone tells how it is said to spin round three times on New Year’s Eve when it hears the sound of the midnight bells at St. Michael’s church (St. Michael was a dragon-slayer) at Mytholmroyd in the valley below. Another piece of folklore tells that coins used to be left in a small hollow at the very top of the stone which, according to Haslem (1981), was “a gift to the spirit world, to bring luck” – a common folk motif. It may equally originate from the custom of it as a plague stone. This tradition of leaving coins atop of the stone is still perpetuated by some local folk.
Mr Haslem also made some interesting remarks about the nature of Churn Milk Joan standing as a boundary stone, representing something which stands not just as a physical boundary, but as a boundary point between this and the Other- or spirit world. In folklore, streams and rivers commonly carry this theme. But here on Midgley Moor, as a standing stone at the junction of three boundaries, we may be looking at the place as an omphalos: a centre point from which the manifold worlds unfold. (see Almscliffe Crags, the Ashlar Chair and the Hitching Stone)
The other motif here, of milk and snow [both white], have been speculated to represent power of the sun at midwinter, and geomantically we find the position of the stone in the landscape exemplifying this: it stands midway in the moorland scenery facing south, the direction of solar power, yet is bounded as an equinox marker from east and west. The winter tales it has nestled around it are merely complementary occult augurs of its more wholesome elements at this point in the hills.
There is however, another much more potent element that has not been conveyed about the site and its folklore—and one which has more authenticity and primary animistic quality. Regardless of ‘Joan’ or ‘Peg’ being the elemental preserved in the landscape title, the ‘churning’ in its name and the ‘spinning’ of the stone in myth at the end of one year and the start of the next at New Year, are folk memories of traditional creation myths that speak of the cyclical seasons endlessly perpetuated year after year after year, in what Mircea Eliade (1954) called the ‘myth of the eternal return.’ As season follows season in the folk myths of our ancestors, everything related to the natural world: a world inhabited (as it still is) by feelings and intuitions learned from an endless daily encounter, outdoors, with the streams, hills, gales, snow and fires. Their entire cosmology, as with aboriginal people the world over, saw the cycles of the year as integral parts of their daily lives. Here, at Churn Milk Joan with its central landscape position along an ancient boundary, the churning and turning of the year was commemorated and mythologized year after year after year; with maybe even the Milky Way being part of the ‘milk’ in its title, from which, in the shamanistic worlds that were integral to earlier society, the gods themselves emerged and came down to Earth.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Eliade, Mircea, The Myth of the Eternal Return, Bollingen 1954.
Haslem, Michael, “Churn Milk Joan: A Boundary Stone on Midgley Moor,” in Wood and Water, 1:8, 1980.
Heginbottom, J.A., “The Prehistoric Rock Art of Upper Calderdale and the Surrounding Area,” Yorkshire Archaeology Society 1977.
Ogden, J.H., “A Moorland Township: Wadsworth in Ancient Times,” Proceedings of the Halifax Antiquarian Society, 1904.
Robert, Andy, “Our Last Meeting,” in NEM 37, 1989.
Robert, Andy, Ghosts and Legends of Yorkshire, Jarrold: Sheffield 1992.
Wright, Elizabeth Mary, Rustic Speech and Folk-Lore, Oxford University Press 1913.
* The great stone at the cente of the Great Skirtful of Stones, Burley Moor, which previously stood at the centre of the Grubstones Circle, was just such a moot stone. Upon it is carved the words “This is Rumble’s Lawe”.
Along the Brighouse to Mirfield A644 road, a half-mile east of M62’s junction 25 on Wakefield Road, note the woodland on your left-hand side, above the walling. Although on allegedly private land, you can approach by hopping over the wall by the main road into the woods. Wander up the slope until it levels out and, just at the edge of the tree-line, past the brilliant overgrown folly amidst a mass of rhododendrons, you’ll see the denuded edges of this earthwork. Though you might need a bitta patience seeking it out…
Archaeology & History
Very first sketch of this site (John Watson, 1775)
The remains of this low earthwork is found on the private land of Kirklees Hall and appointment is supposed to be made to explore, both this and the more famous Robin Hood’s Grave, a few hundred yards away. But if you can’t be bothered with that and find this little-known earthwork, you’ll see that it’s roughly squared in shape, though pretty overgrown. In Bernard Barnes’ survey (1982) he described it as a “square or five sided enclosure, 2-3 acres in size, with bank and external ditch”, wondering whether it was used to enclosure cattle and stretching its possible origin between the Iron Age to the medieval.
Although the classical Roman archaeologist Ian Richmond (1925) believed the site to be from that period, the archaeologist J.J. Keighley thought that the site was “more likely to be Iron Age than Roman.” He wrote:
“The earthwork in Kirklees Park is a square or five-sided enclosure with bank and external ditch… The site lies on Richmond’s trans-Pennine route. According to Armitage and Montgomerie, the earthwork is 0.5 hectares in area, but it is actually nearer 0.8 to 1.2 hectares. They compare its construction with the fort at Wincobank (South Yorkshire), stating that the bank on the counterscarp when excavated, revealed “a very rudely composed wall of undressed dry stone.”
Earlier local writers such as John Watson (1775) — whose early sketch of the site is reproduced above — and others also opted for the Roman date. But, unless you’re a bit of an earthwork fanatic, this site may not be too much your cuppa tea. If you are gonna check this out though, make sure you check out Robin Hood’s old tomb in the trees not far away. Very odd.
References:
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Merseyside County Council & University of Liverpool 1982.
Keighley, J.J., “The Prehistoric Period,” in West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey to AD 1500 (WYMCC: Wakefield 1981).
Richmond, I.A., Huddersfield in Roman Times, Tolson Memorial Museum: Huddersfield 1925.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of Halifax, J. Lowndes: London 1775.
Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SO 117 544
Also Known as:
Hundred House Standing Stone
Archaeology & History
Position of the old stone (on one of Alf’s leys)
In a field less than 200 yards north of an old medieval mound known as The Mount, the great ley-hunter Alfred Watkins (1925) described a standing stone that used to be here along one of his leys, but which, even then, had been “inexplicably blown into several pieces by a quarrymen’s charge.”
The stone was said to have originally come from an adjacent field and then moved next to yet another monolith, which was also broken up. Can any remnants of these poor fellas still to be seen anywhere nearby? Or is it a case of yet another one bites the dust?
References:
Watkins, Alfred, The Old Straight Track: Its Mounds, Beacons, Moats, Sites and Mark Stones, Methuen: London 1925.
C.F. Forshaw (1908) told us that “this Castlestead…lies on the high ground between Cullingworth and Denholme, about 300 yards east of the point where te Cullingworth Road meets the Halifax-Keighley Road in Manywells Height, and over looks Buck Park Woods and the beck flowing down a deep ravine to enter the head of Hewenden Reservoir. A little to the north lies Moat Hill Farm…and the ancient burial place therewith associated.” Very little remains of the site can be seen.
Archaeology & History
C.F. Forshaw’s 1908 plan of this Castle Stead site
Just over a mile southeast of the site of (virtually) the same name — the Castlestead Ring — this here Castle Stead site had me thinking that both sites were one and the same (poor research on my behalf I’m afraid). At the moment, the archaeological period of when this site was constructed remains unknown. Thought by Forshaw (1908) to be “almost certainly a hitherto unknown Roman entrenchment,” the very slight remains left here could be Iron Age or Romano-British. In his lengthy article on the remains that could be seen here more than 100 years ago, Mr Forshaw told us:
“Several fields hereabouts bear the name Castlestead and one of these contains the entrenchment, which almost coincides within its area… The reason for the selection of this site is clear, for on no side is it commanded by higher ground: whilst one face has a natural fortification of a rock scar impassable at most points and easily accessible at none. Here very little art would make the position impregnable in primitive warfare, and it is noticeable that the most suitable part of the verge has been selected, and almost the whole of the scar has been included. It is, however, only right to state that stone has been quarried here within living memory and this may have altered the ground considerably, and may account for several features mentioned hereafter.
“The accompanying plan (above) will make the outline of the fortification clear, and from it one can readily recognise the usual Roman form. The moat and bank, the quadrangular shape with rounded corners and the entrances on three sides (and possibly on the fourth also) are characteristic. The unusual point is the selection of a natural fortification for one (the south) side.
“The question at once arises: was this a permanent stone fort? Clearly not, for the bank has been cut across at four places (A, D, H & L) and not only was no stone found — beyond such odds and ends as may be seen in any field — but the deeper, undisturbed layers of silt showed no signs of a trench in which foundations might have stood. It is noticeable that there are more stones on the crown of the bank than elsewhere. This I take to be the remains of what was thrown up in the bank. The field has been cultivated many years, so that the bank has been much reduced in height and the moat filled up.
“The original height of the bank is difficult to guess, but the moat was about three feet deeper than at present at the point H, and from the amount of soil removed we may imagine the bank about five feet higher than it is now, and solid at that; this makes a total outside slope of about 10 feet, a very formidable obstacle to surmount in the face of opposition, especially is strengthened by a stockade, such as was possibly present.The remains of the bank are capped with a layer of some six inches of bluish, silty clay. This was evidently placed there deliberately, and is in accordance with Roman work as seen elsewhere (e.g., at Castleshaw, near Oldham). There is also some slight evidence that, as at Castleshaw, the moat was once faced with irregular pieces of flat stone. The moat was some 18 feet across at the top, six feet at the bottom and five feet deep. The east and west sides were probably less strongly entrenched. Certainly the moat was much less, for rock lies only just below the sod, halfway along the western side. When the southern face is examined there are more signs of stonework, however, for where the rock is deficient the gap is filled with the remains of a dry wall which has some peculiar characteristics. In places the lower part of this wall is formed of roughly-shaped oblong blocks of large size (one has a face of 57 x 17 inches), arranged in definite tiers. This is not like an ordinary field fence, and differs even more from the ancient wall marked (probably erroneously) as Denholme Park Wall on the Ordnance map, which it continues: so it is conceivable that it may be Roman work. There is now little or no sign of a bank along the rocks bounding the southern side of the camp, but it is probable that something once existed to give cover to the defenders, and we may well imagine a low dry wall continuous with the fragments just described: and it is rather noticeable that there are more squared stones in the walls of this field than in others in the neighbourhood.
“There are no traces of buildings within the lines so far as the present investigations go, nor signs of prolonged occupation at the site. I have dug at the points indicated (on the map above) and came upon rock or disturbed silt in each case. The circular shallow hollow in the centre seems natural. It is to be remarked that the average depth of surface soil in this field is unusual, more than one foot in fact.”
Mr Forshaw then goes on to ask a series of questions, followed by his own particular answers and theory relating to the nature of these earthworks. Hopefully you won’t mind if I cite his ideas in full, despite him thinking that the remains here are of Roman origin (remains of which I don’t really wanna include on TNA). He continued:
“Was this camp on the course of a Roman road? One can only say that no definite road exists at the entrances now, but there seems some ground for thinking that a surface was prepared…at the western entrance for two reasons:
1. Just to the north the rock is covered with made soil only; but in the entrance itself irregular stones are packed in a level, solid manner, giving a strong impression of artificiality. At the southern verge of the entrance this layer ends abruptly in a line at right angles to the bank, and here it is based not on rock, but on natural silt.
2. A slight hollow runs straight westward from it for some twenty yards through the next field. This may represent a destroyed road.”
Mr Forshaw then makes a few attempts to justify this idea, including notices of footpaths and linear features near the site, aswell as citing earlier historical sources that describe Roman roads — but the ones cited are some considerable distance from this site. In summing up, he notes how no Roman finds were made here — nor indeed any finds from earlier periods — but he opted for the site being a temporary Roman outpost. The more recent opinions of this place are that it was of late Iron Age or Romano-British origin.
References:
Cudworth, William, Round about Bradford, Thomas Brear: Bradford 1876.
Forshaw, C.F., ‘Castlestead, near Cullingworth,’ in Yorkshire Notes and Queries – volume 4, H.C. Derwent: Bradford 1908.
Hindley, Reg, Oxenhope: The Making of a Pennine Community, Amadeus: Cleckheaton 2004.
James, John, The History and Topography of Bradford, Longmans: London 1876.
Keighley, J.J., ‘The Prehistoric Period,’ in Faull & Moorhouse’s, West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey to AD 1500 – volume 1, WYMCC: Wakefield 1981.
Varley, Raymond, “The Excavation of Castle Stead at Manywells Height, near Cullingworth, West Yorkshire,” in Transactions of the Hunter Archaeological Society, volume 19, 1997.
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.”
The ancient Market CrossThe new 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.
Get up to the Twin Towers right at the top of Ilkley Moor (Whetstone Gate), then walk east along the footpath, past the towers for about another 100 yards, looking out on the other side of the wall until it meets with some other walling running downhill onto Morton Moor. Follow this walling into the heather for a few hundred yards. Where it starts dropping down the slope towards the small valley, stop! From here, follow the ridge of moorland along to your left (east) and keep going till you’re looking down into the little valley proper. Along the top of this ridge if you keep your eyes peeled, you’ll find the stone cross base sitting alone, quietly…
Archaeology & History
This old relic, way off any path in the middle of the moor, has little said of it. Whilst its base is still visible — standing on a geological prominence and fault line — and appears to taken the position of an older standing stone, christianised centuries ago, the site is but a shadow of its former self. When standing upright may centuries back, the “cross” was visible from many directions. We discovered this for ourselves about 20 years back, when Graeme Chappell and I sought for and located this all-but-forgotten monument. When we found the stone base, what seemed like the old stone cross lay by its side, so we repositioned it back into position on July 15, 1991. However, in the intervening years some vandal has been up there and knocked it out of position, seemingly pushing it downhill somewhere. When we visited the remains of the cross-base yesterday (i.e., Dave, Michala Potts and I) this could no longer be located. A few feet in front of the base however, was another piece of worked masonry which, it would seem, may have once been part of the same monument.
Cross-base, looking northClose-up of cross-base
Years ago, after Graeme and I had resurrected the “cross” onto its base, I went to visit the Bradup stone circle a few weeks later and found, to my surprise, the upright stone in position right on the skyline a mile to the northeast, standing out like a sore thumb! This obviously explained its curious position, seemingly in the middle of nowhere upon a little hill. This old cross, it would seem, was stuck here to replace the siting of what seems like a chunky 3½-foot long standing stone, lying prostrate in the heather about 10 yards west of the cross base.
Stuart Feather (1960) seems to be the only fella I can find who described this lost relic, thinking it may have had some relationship with a lost road that passed in the valley below here, as evidenced by the old milestone which Gyrus and I resurrected more than 10 years back. Thankfully (amazingly!) it still stands in situ!
If you aint really into old stone crosses, I’d still recommended having a wander over to this spot, if only for the excellent views and quietude; and…if you’re the wandering type, there are some other, previously undiscovered monuments not too far away, awaiting description…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Feather, Stewart, “A Cross Base on Rombald’s Moor,” in Bradford Antiquary, May 1960.
Feather, Stewart, “Crosses near Keighley,” in Cartwright Hall Archaeology Group Bulletin 5:6, 1960.
