To get to the monolith travel along the B1253 road to the west of Bridlington for about 5 miles or from York take the A166 in an easterly direction then onto the B1251 and at Fridaythorpe take the B1253 east again toward Bridlington. The huge stone cannot be missed from the road and from the surrounding area. It stands within the graveyard of All Saints’ church at the north-eastern side of Rudston village.
Archaeology & History
Located in the graveyard of All Saints’ church, this huge and mighty monolith or menhir stands at 25 foot 9 inches high (7.7 metres), and is the tallest prehistoric standing stone in Britain. It is estimated to weigh 40 tons, and it is thought to be the same in height below ground as what it is above the ground, though I don’t know whether anyone has ever checked that theory out. It probably dates from the Bronze-Age about 1,600 BC. Because of vandalism and erosion the top of the stone now has a lead cap, so it is said the stone could have originally been 28 feet high. So where has the top part gone to, I wonder. We are told that the stone was dragged, or rolled on logs, all the way from an outcrop at Cayton Bay some 10 miles as the crow flies to the north.
Rudston monolith stands at the end of at least one cursus monument on an old prehistoric alignment (see the Rudston B Cursus entry). It would appear to have played an important ingredient in a huge ceremonial landscape on the Gypsey Race. Also in the churchyard (north-east corner) there is a large slab-stone cist which was removed from a nearby round barrow and also a gritstone. At Breeze Farm about one mile to the south-west of the village is the site of a Roman villa.
Folklore
The folklore elements tell us that this is, in fact, a phallic stone and in pagan times some form of ritual was held around the monolith, but then the Christian church was built around it in the Dark Ages – it was a case of Christianity adopting the pagan religion and allowing the stone to stay where it was, but what else could they do because the stone was to big to move, so a lot of tolerance was in order here. The present church of All Saints’ dates from the Norman period. In any case the stone had stood here for a good 2,000 years or more before any church was established in the village. According to the legend, the devil hurled the huge stone at the first Christian church on the site, but as usual he just missed – doesn’t he always!
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Ancient Mysteries of Britain, Diamond Books: London 1991.
Anderton, Bill, Guide To Ancient Britain, Foulsham: London 1991.
Darvill, Timothy, AA Glovebox Guide – Ancient Britain, AA Publishing Division: Basingstoke 1988.
Royston, Peter, Rudston: A Sketch of its History and Antiquities, George Furby: Bridlington 1873.
From the scruffy Askwith Moor lay-by car-park, along Askwith Moor road, follow the fence north up along the roadside until you reach the gate on your right. Go thru this and head due west into the moor, towards the small cluster of other carved stones (carvings 581, 582, etc), particularly the Small Rings Stone (carving 579). Around here, you’ll notice a cluster of about 10 mounds in the heather, which seem to be prehistoric cairns, and this particular stone rest against the northwestern side of one of them, about 30 yards west of carving 579. If you’re patient, you’ll find it! (if you fancy a look at all these on the moor, gimme a shout & I’ll take you straight to ’em – but you need to make a booking!)
Archaeology & History
This carving takes a bitta finding amidst the mass of deep heather and open moorland and is probably only gonna be of interest to real cup-and-ring fanatics. But it’s the setting which makes it more intriguing — for me anyhow!
Trying to highlight the internal CnRSolar Stone carving
Like other carvings on this moorland, we find it in direct association with a prehistoric tomb (though it aint been excavated), resting up against the edge of one. However, it seems to have been moved from its original position and may, perhaps, have actually faced the other way at some time in the past. We might never know. However, some student in the recent past saw fit to name this small carving the ‘TV Stone’, thanks to the slightly cronky outline of an old television screen, with its small half-cup-and-ring near the bottom corner of the rock. You can see where they were coming from!
Boughey & Vickerman (2003) made only a brief note of the stone, seeing only the cup-and-half-ring here; but there seems to be a faint cup-marking near the middle of their TV screen, along with faded evidence of an incomplete ring around it. You can just about make it out in the poor photos we took of it. (sadly, we were without water when we visited it, which would have highlighted the additional cup-and-slight ring more clearly)
Close-up of cup-and-half-ring
We gave this stone the title ‘Solar Stone’* as it seems more appropriate and would certainly have more mythic relevance to the people who carved this. The curious natural ring, or TV outline, running round most of the stone (with the faded cup-and-part-ring near its centre) may have been attached with more animistic attributes than us moderns tend to give things — children notwithstanding! Circular forms in Nature have universal tendencies in more traditional cultures with such heavenly bodies as sun or moon, which might have been relevant here with the stones association with a tomb.
…Again, we might never know…
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
* though did debate in somewhat primitive northern lingo: “Ugh – errr…solar? lunar? Ey? — Solar? Lunar?” uttering the same queried mantra numerous times between ourselves till we got tired and stuck with ‘solar’, as seems common these days (though I preferred ‘lunar’, it’s gotta be told!).
From Gilmerton village, take the A822 Dunkeld road north. Go for about 200 yards and take the little road to Monzie; watching carefully another 200 yards on for the dirt-track on the left taking you across the fields. Go along the track, watching out for the small stones in the field on your right less than 200 yards along. You can’t really miss ’em! This small ring of stones is the Monzie Cairn Circle. The carving is just in front of it!
Archaeology & History
Although we know this brilliant carved stone has some relationship with the Monzie cairn circle only five yards away (it was linked via a man-made stone causeway, running between the circle and the carving), the stone itself is very much deserving of its own entry here — and at the same time I can give Andrew Finlayson’s (2010) excellent book a decent plug aswell! (the superb drawings of the stone, top & bottom, are from Andy’s work)
Allen’s 1882 drawingCarving & proximity of circle
First mentioned (I think) in Simpson’s (1867) early survey, the carving was described soon after by J. Romilly Allen (1882), who gave us an early drawing of the stone. Thought by some to have originally stood upright, the carving was described by Aubrey Burl (2000) as being, “decorated with forty-six cupmarks, cup-and-rings, nine double, one triple, there are grooves and a pair of joined cups.” It’s certainly an impressive carving!
Although the carving has been posited by some archaeologists as an outlier to the Monzie circle, it’s probable that the circle emerged from the carving — a concept that some may find difficult to understand. I’m not aware of any modern excavations here (the last, I think, was in 1938), but my guess would be that the stone causeway laid between the cup-and-ring stone and the circle ran towards the circle from the carving, and not the other way round. The carving is probably older than the stone ring — though of course, without excavation, my idea could be utter bullshit! (there are also some cup-marked stones in the circle aswell – though none as impressive as this)
One of my truly favourite megalith fanatics (despite some of his alignments being out), Alexander Thom, came here and thought this old carving “coincided with a rough stellar alignment from the centre-point of the cairn” (Hadingham 1974); though his notes in Megalithic Rings (1980) tell that,
“from the cupmarked stone beside the circle, the midsummer sun sets above an outlier some 800ft distant.”
The “outlier” that Thom mentions is known as the Witches’ Stone of Monzie, which Simpson (1867) appears to have mistakenly thought was the name of this very carving.
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, “Notes on some Undescribed Stones with Cup Markings in Scotland,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries Scotland, volume 16, 1882.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Finlayson, Andrew, The Stones of Strathearn, One Tree Island: Comrie 2010.
Hadingham, Evan, Ancient Carvings in Britain, Garnstone: London 1974.
Simpson, James, Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles, etc., Upon Stones and Rocks in Scotland, England and other Countries, Edmonston & Douglas: Edinburgh 1867.
Thom, Alexander, “Megalithic Astronomy: Indications in Standing Stones,” in Vistas in Astronomy, volume 7, 1966.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, H.A.W., Megalithic Rings, BAR: Oxford 1980.
Cup-and-Ring Stone: OS Grid Reference – NY 0708 2536
Getting Here
Photo & drawing of Dean’s cup-and-ring (after Beckensall 1992)
St Oswald’s church stands at the western edge of the village of Dean beside the road to Branthwaite. The village is located some 5 miles due south-west of Cockermouth and about 6 miles to the south-east of Workington.
Archaeology & History
In the nave of St Oswald’s church there is now housed a small sandstone boulder that has a well-defined central cup-mark around which are two large concentric rings, a third ring being left open – perhaps indicating a portal (gateway), and three other well defined cup-marks at the side of that, one of which has become almost adjoined to the other through erosion.
The boulder was ploughed up in a field at nearby Park Hill to the south-west of the village in 1918. It was then placed in the churchyard but, in recent times it was brought into the church for safety reasons.
References:
Beckensall, Stan, Cumbrian Prehistoric Rock Art, Abbey Press: Hexham 1992.
Beckensall, Stan, British Prehistoric Rock Art,Tempus: Stroud 1999.
Beckensall, Stan, Prehistoric Rock Art in Cumbria, Tempus: Stroud 2002.
To get here, take the same direction as to reach the Bleara Lowe tumulus, stopping a short distance away when you reach the large heap just by the walling where the moorland levels out. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
Bleara Moor tumulus
Found on the top of the slope above the Bleara Moor Cairnfield, this is quite a large burial mound that seems to have been forgotten on the small moorland heights above Earby and Lothersdale. No archaeological excavation has been done here and there seem to be no accounts of any finds in local antiquarian records. When we visited the place it was very overgrown and covered in heather, but it stood out in the open landscape. Slightly larger than its more famous companion to the east, this tomb stands three- to four-feet high on average, with a diameter of around 25 yards on its longest northeast/southwest axis. Consistent in structure with the larger cairns on Burley Moor like the Little Skirtful, this tomb was probably built in the Bronze Age. It also seems that a lot of stone has been robbed from this cairn for use in the local walling. The site was given a minimal description on the Pastscape website, where it was described as:
“Round cairn 230m W of Bleara Howe (sic). Scheduled RSM No 23718. A partly mutilated slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.2m high with max dimensions of 23m NNE-SSW x 21m WNW-ESE.”
The views from here are considerable and this probably had some relevance when it was first built, but I’m not aware if an assessment of this aspect of the site has been made. More information about the Bleara Moor tumulus (and its companions!) would be hugely appreciated!
There’s no footpath to this site, but we came to it via the car park on Coolham Lane on the southeast side of Earby. Walking uphill, we got over the wooden stile on the moorside and walked up the side of the walling, all the way upwards till we reached the top of the moor. You’ll pass the large Bleara Moor tumulus just by the walling, then head towards the rounded hillock on the top of the moor a coupla hundred yards away. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
As with many sites in this area, very little has been said of this usually overgrown Bronze Age burial mound. Although no known recorded excavation of the tomb has ever been done, someone dug into the top of the mound in the 1960s, but we have no record of any finds. The tomb stands on the local boundary line between Earby and Lothersdale to the east and was known as ‘Bleara Haugh’ in the 1819 Enclosure Act. But little else has ever been said of it.
Bleara LoweOS-map of site
When we visited the place a few months ago, we were fortunate in that the heather had been burnt back, so allowing a much better view of the site than normally afforded when it’s covered in heather. The rounded mound was between 4 and 5 feet high and measured approximately 20 yards across. The pit which had been dug into the top of the mound was still visible, though much overgrown. The view from the tomb itself was very impressive — which would have been of some importance in the construction of the place. The Pastscape website describes Bleara Lowe as:
“A slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.4m high with max dimensions of 21m E-W x 19m N-S. There is a rectangular hollow 3m x 1.5m x 0.4m deep on the cairn’s summit.”
Another larger tumulus or overgrown cairn can be found over 200 yards west of here; plus a number of small singular prehistoric cairns have been located further down the western slope of the moor, known as the Bleara Moor Cairnfield. None of these sites have ever been excavated.
If you wanna drive here, be prepared for a long uphill winding haul, with very poor turning, single-track roads and no parking spots. It’s dodgy as hell! But, if y’ must – from the central roundabout in Todmorden, take the road diagonally across as if you’re going to the train station, and barely 50 yards up, take the right turn under the railways arches, bearing sharp left, then up the very steep zigzagging dangerous road for a mile or so. You’ll eventually reach Stones Lane on your left. Go down this, nearly to the end, slowly – and keep your eyes peeled until you see the big one! You can’t miss it! If you want walk up (a much safer, healthier and preferable route), take the Calderdale Way route up past Dobroyd Castle, and where you get to the top of the hill and the fields open up ahead of you, look down the slope into the field for one stone, and up past the shrubs to Centre Hill. You can’t miss them!
Archaeology & History
Three ‘stones’ on 1911 map
This is a quite extraordinary sight to those who visit here for the first time. Moreso because, until very recently, the place was excluded from all text-books and surveys. But if you like your megaliths, this place is well worth the trek up the hill. You’ll be amazed! The tallest and largest of these giant monoliths was recorded when a team from Ordnance Survey mapped the area in 1844, but gave no antiquated note to it. When another Ordnance Survey team re-surveyed the area again in 1911, they noted two other ‘stones’ three fields away to the northeast. More than a decade later, the industrialist historian Abraham Newall (1925) described them at some length in his fine work on the region.
Stone 1, looking NWStone 2, at top of hillock (soz about the crap picture)
The first thing generally noticed is the 12-foot tall standing stone near the bottom of the field (stone 1). Then you’ll see the curiously-worked thin standing stone, nearly as tall, on the hillock at the top of the same field (stone 2). This stone has been surmounted onto an old millstone and the hillock itself was once an old beacon hill. Then on the other side of the road a few hundred yards along, another stone just over 4-feet tall can be seen (stone 3); and in the same field is another one laid down at the side of a well (stone 4). This stone used to stand just where the water appears. It’s seems probable that other standing stones may once have been in close attendance, but have been destroyed over time.
Stone 3, looking southStone 3, looking west
Stone 1 is hemmed in at the base by several stones, giving the impression that it was resurrected at some time in the recent past. Several local stories attest to this. Stone 2 was once further down in the same field but was moved to its present position in the 19th century and was, it is alleged, moved there to commemorate the Battle of Waterloo. Several local historians contest this. Stone 3 has nothing said of it; apart from by the local farmer who said it once had a companion (as illustrated on the early map, above). We were told that this companion (stone 4) was uprooted and a spring of water appeared where it stood, so they laid it down in the position it still occupies, just by the spring 10 yards into the field.
If you’re into megaliths and live in Yorkshire or Lancashire, check these beauties out! Just respect the local farmer – he’s not into ignorant tourists clambering over walls. (don’t say you’ve not been warned!)
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Newell, Abraham, A Hillside View of Industrial History, J. Bentley: Todmorden 1925.
Various ways to get here. Probably the easiest is via the golf course itself, walking up towards the top where the trees reach the hills, but keeping your eyes peeled for the large archetypal tumulus or fairy mound near the top of the slope. Alternatively, come up through the wooded slopes from Bridge of Allan and onto the golf course, keeping your eyes ready for the self same mound sat in the corner by the walls. You can’t really miss it to be honest!
Archaeology & History
This is an impressive-looking burial mound sat, intact, on the edge of those painful golf courses that keep growing over our landscape — and you can see for miles from here! It would seem to have been placed with quite deliberate views across the landscape, reaching for countless miles into the Grampian mountains north and west across the moors of Gargunnock and Flanders towards Lomond and beyond…
Fairy Knowe, facing westSir Armstrong’s old drawing
The Fairy Knowe was first excavated in 1868 by Sir J.E. Alexander and his team, when their measurements found it to be some 80 yards in circumference, 78 feet across and 21 feet high — compared to less than 60 feet across and only 8 feet tall today. The findings were recorded in one of the early PSAS reports, and more recently a synopsis of the account was made of it by the Royal Commission (1963) lads who summarized his early findings and told:
“The excavation revealed a cist in the centre of the cairn, laid on the original surface of the ground and measuring 2ft 6in in length, 1ft 6in in breadth and 3ft in depth. Its walls were formed partly of upright slabs and partly of small stones laid horizontally, while the floor and the roof each consisted of a single slab. Within it there was a deposit, 6in in depth, of black earth, charcoal and fragments of human bone among which pieces of a skull were conspicuous. The cist was covered by a heap of large stones, 8ft in diameter and 13ft in height, and this in turn was covered with earth, in which there were charcoal, blackened stones, fragments of human and animal bones and unctuous black earth. Among these remains were found six flint arrowheads, a fragment of what was once thought to be a stone spear-head, and a piece of pine which, it was suggested, might have formed part of a spear-shaft.”
Also, near the top of the cairn in the fairy mound, Sir Alexander’s team located a prehistoric beaker vessel and fragments of what they thought were other beakers pots. Archaeologist Richard Feachem (1977) also mentioned this site in his gazetteer, simply copying the words of previous researchers.
Other prehistoric cairns can be found nearby: one in Cuparlaw Woods less a mile north; plus the Pendreich cairns on the edge of the moors just over 1 mile to the northeast.
Folklore
Obviously an abode of the faerie folk in bygone times, the tales of the place are sadly fading from local memory… Mr Alexander (1868) thought this place may have been an important site for the Pictish folk, and he may well have been correct, as the legendary hill of Dumyat (correctly known as Dun Myat) 2 miles east of here has long been regarded as an outpost of one Pictish tribe.
The main piece of folklore attached to this place relates to its very name and how it came about. In R.M. Menzies (1912) rare work on the folklore of the Ochils, he narrates the local tale that used to be spoken, which describes a procession here from the Fairy Well, just over a mile to the east. Whether this folktale relates to some long lost actual procession between the two sites, we don’t know for sure. Mr Menzies told:
“Once upon a time, when people took life more leisurely, and when the wee folk frequented the glens and hills of Scotland, there was one little fairy whose duty it was to look after certain wells renowned for their curative properties. This fairy was called Blue Jacket, and his favourite haunt was the Fairy Well on the Sheriffmuir Road, where the water was so pure and cool that nobody could pass along without taking a drink of the magic spring. A draught of this water would have such a refreshing effect that the drinker could go on his journey without feeling either thirsty or hungry. Many travellers who had refreshed themselves at the Fairy Well would bless the good little man who kept guard over its purity, and proceed upon their way dreaming of pleasant things all the day long.
“One warm day in June, a Highland drover from the Braes of Rannoch came along with a drove of Highland cattle, which he was taking to Falkirk Tryst, and feeling tired and thirsty he stopped at the Fairy Well, took a good drink of its limpid water, and sat down beside it to rest, while his cattle browsed nearby. The heat was very overpowering, and he fell into a dreamy sleep.
“As he lay enjoying his noonday siesta, Blue Jacket stepped out from among the brackens and approaching the wearied drover, asked him whence he came. The drover said:
“‘I come from the Highland hills beside the Moor of Rannoch; but I have never seen such a wee man as you before. Wha’ may you be?’
“‘Oh,’ said the fairy, ‘I am Blue Jacket, one of the wee folk!’
“‘Ay, ay man, ye have got a blue jacket, right enough; but I’ve never met ony o’ your kind before. Do ye bide here?’
“‘Sometimes; but I am the guardian of the spring from which you have just been drinking.’
“‘Weel, a’ I can say is that it is grand water; there is no’ the likes o’t frae this to Rannoch.’
“‘What’s your name?’ asked the fairy.
“‘They ca’ me Sandy Sinclair, the Piper o’ Rannoch,’ was the reply.
“‘Have you got your pipes?’ asked Blue Jacket.
“‘Aye, my mannie, here they are. Wad ye like a tune? Ye see there’s no’ a piper like me in a’ Perthshire.’
“‘Play away then,’ said Blue Jacket.
“Sandy Sinclair took up his pipes and, blowing up the bag, played a merry Highland reel. When he finished, he was greatly surprised to see above the well a crowd of little folk, like Blue Jacket, dancing to the music he had been playing. As he stopped they clapped their little hands and exclaimed, ‘Well done Sandy! You’re the piper we need.’
“Thereupon Blue Jacket blew a silver whistle, which he took from his belt, and all the wee folk formed themselves into a double row. Blue Jacket then took the Highland piper by the hand, led him to the front of the procession, and told him to play a march. Sandy felt himself unable to resist the command of the fairy, and, putting the chanter into his mouth, blew his hardest and played his best, marching at the head of the long line of little people, who tripped along, keeping time to the strains of the bagpipes. Blue Jacket walked in front of the piper, leading the way in the direction of the Fairy Knowe.
“Sandy Sinclair never marched so proudly as he did that day, and the road, though fairly long, seemed to be no distance at all; the music of the pibroch fired his blood and made him feel as if he was leading his clansmen to battle. When the Fairy Knowe was reached, the wee folk formed themselves into a circle round the little hill, and sang a song the sweetest that ever fell upon the ears of the Highlandman. Blue Jacket once more took his whistle and, blowing three times upon it, held up his hand, and immediately the side of the knoll opened. Bidding the piper to play on, Blue Jacket led the procession into the interior; and when all were inside, the fairies formed themselves into sets, and the piper playing a strathspey, they began dancing with might and main.
“One dance succeeded another, and still Sandy played on, the wee folk tripping it as merrily as ever. All thoughts of Sandy’s drove had gone quite out of his head, and all he thought of now was how best to keep the fairies dancing: he had never seen such nimble dancers, and every motion was so graceful and becoming as made him play his very best to keep the fun going. Sandy Sinclair was in Fairyland, and every other consideration was forgotten.
“Meanwhile his cattle and sheep were following their own sweet will, the only guardian left to take care of them being his collie dog. This faithful animal kept watch as well as he could, and wondered what had become of his master. Towards evening another drover came along with his cattle for the same tryst. He knew the dog at once, and began to pet the animal, saying at the same time, ‘Where’s your master, Oscar? What’s become o’ Sandy?’
“All the dog would do was to wag his bushy tail, and look up with a pleading air, as if to say, ‘I don’t know; will you not find him?’
“‘My puir wee doggie, I wonder what’s come over Sandy? It’s no like him to leave his cattle stravaiging by the roadside. Ay ay man; and at the Fairy Well too! Indeed, this looks unco bad.’
“The newcomer, who was also a Highlander, made up his mind to spend the night with his own drove and that of Sandy Sinclair, thinking that the missing man would turn up in the morning. But when the morning came there was no sign of Sandy.
“Taking Sandy’s collie and leaving his own dog in charge of the combined droves, he said, ‘Find master, Oscar!’ The wise beast sniffed around for a little and then trotted off in the direction taken the day before by Sandy Sinclair and the fairies. By and by they reached the Fairy Knowe; but there was nobody there as far as the drover could see. The dog ran round and round the knoll, barking vigorously all the time, and looking up into the face of the drover as if to say, ‘This is where he is; this is where he is.’ The drover examined every bit of the Fairy Knowe, but there was no trace of Sandy Sinclair. As the drover sat upon the top of the Fairy Knowe, wondering what he should do next, he seemed to hear the sound of distant music. Telling the faithful dog to keep quiet, he listened attentively, and by-and-by made out the sound of the pibroch; but whether it was at a long distance or not, he could not be certain. In the meantime, the dog began to scrape at the side of the mound and whimper in a plaintive manner. Noticing this, the drover put his ear to the ground and listened. There could be no mistake this time: the music of the pibroch came from the centre of the Fairy Knowe.
“‘Bless my soul!’ exclaimed Sandy’s friend. ‘He’s been enticed by the fairies to pipe at their dances. We’ll ne’er see Sandy Sinclair again.’
“It was as true as he said. The Piper of Rannoch never returned to the friends he knew, and the lads and lasses had to get another piper to play their dance music when they wished to spend a happy evening by the shore of the loch. Long, long afterwards, the passers-by often heard the sound of pipe music, muffled and far away, coming from the Fairy Knowe; but the hidden piper was never seen. When long absent friends returned to Rannoch and enquired about Sandy Sinclair, they were told that he had gone to be piper to the wee folk and had never come home again.”
There is some confusion as to whether this mound of earth, barely four feet high but some 50 feet across, is actually prehistoric. But the folklore has that common ring to it, found at olde sites from Cornwall to northern Scotland, speaking of old tombs and ancient ways…
Folklore
In modern times apparently, earthlights have been reported flitting about around this earthen ridge, but the old mound has older, more familiar tales spoken of it. In Rev. Williams’ (1901) article on the folklore of Stirlingshire, he made a considerable detour to tell of some old faerie-lore he’d heard when he was younger, from the prehistoric tomb on the northern side of Elphillock, a few miles south of Kildrummy. In talking with some of the local people about old beliefs, one local man told him:
“The fairies of my native parish made their abode in a round knoll, known as Elfhillock. My friend, James Smith, now no more, was ploughman at Cairncoullie, in the neighbourhood. Passing the hillock one evening, he heard the sound of music and dancing. James drew near to the spot and saw the revels. He waited and enjoyed himself for a short space and then returned to Cairncoullie and went to bed. He found to his amazement that he had been away a year and a day! Every field on the farm and the new ploughmen bore evidence to the fact; and Jamie believed till his dying day that he was a year older than he was aware of, and all because he had given heed to matters he had no business with.”
Not only were the little people said to live within this small tomb, but the hillock must also be cared for and never damaged. Rev. Williams also narrated that the grandfather of the same local man told him that he had,
“pulled some heather from this elf hillock. He was compelled by the women to replace it, otherwise he would have to encounter the wrath of the fairies.”
Thankfully the old hillock is still here, just off the roadside. Not far from here are a number of other prehistoric sites with faerie and ghost-lore and mythological place-names, long since fallen into memories old…soon to be lost perhaps…
References:
Williams, George, “Local Superstitions,” in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society, 1901.
Settlement (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NS 086 635
Archaeology & History
Pottery remnants
Somewhere beneath the modern cemetery and adjacent factory close to St. Mary’s church on the southern outskirts of Rothesay, right by the roadside, was once an important prehistoric settlement. All remains of the site however, have long since been destroyed. An axe that was found here was held in the local museum. There are several scattered accounts of the place, one of which was written by J.G. Scott (1968), who reported that,
“between 1914 and 1929, a series of finds — pottery, a polished stone axehead, a saddle quern, hearths and remains of shallow trenches — was made at Townhead…at a now disused gravel pit. Excavations in 1929 revealed several slots in the original gravel surface, which suggested the remains of sleeper beams for wooden buildings. All the pottery recovered was neolithic… Amongst it were sherds of two vessels of Rinyo-Clacton ware. Most of the rest of the pottery…showed well-developed rims, often thickened and bevelled externally and sometimes everted. This pottery recalls the Abingdon style of southern Britain, and has been termed Rothesay ware by the writer.
“Sherd from one of these Rothesay vessels were associated with charcoal, possibly from a hearth, with hazel-nut shells and small fragments of bone.”
Scott told that radiocarbon analysis dated the finds at around 2120 BC. A couple of hundred yards away are the enclosed remains of St. Mary’s Holy Well, whose waters may well have been of magickal repute all those centuries ago…
References:
Scott, J.G., “A Radiocarbon Date for a West Scottish Neolithic Settlement,” in Antiquity journal, volume 42, no.168, December 1968.
