This was one site amongst a good cluster of prehistoric burials in this area, although most of this particular tomb has been destroyed. It was first located and described as a result of aerial surveying in the 1940s and described soon after the war in a short article by Mr G.C. Dunning (1946), who told us:
“An unrecorded long barrow is situated at South Wonston, immediately north of Worthy Down, in the parish of Wonston, 4 miles due north of Winchester (6-in OS Hampshire sheet 33 SW), Lat. 51° 7′ 15″ N, Long. 1° 19′ 30” W. The site was first noticed from the air in 1944 and has been visited several times. The barrow is enclosed in a loop of the 350ft contour, and the subsoil is chalk.
Map of siteAerial view of site
“The axis of the barrow is north-east to south-west; at about one-third from the west end it is crossed by a road. West of the road about 90ft of the mound is preserved in good condition and grass-grown; it is 60ft wide and 5ft high. On the south side the flanking ditch can be traced; a hedge runs along the north side and the ditch is obscured by a garden. A flint end-scraper, 3in long, with thick white patination, was picked out of the section of the mound on the west side of the road. East of the road the mound extends into a cultivated field and it has been much reduced by constant ploughing; it is now about 1ft high and the soil contains more chalk than elsewhere in the field. The ditches are parallel and show up as dark lines on the air-photograph (see b&w image), taken in April 1946. The ditches are continued round the east end of the barrow, an unusual feature proved in the long barrow at Holdenhurst, near Christchurch, Hants… No indications of structures or burial-pits can be detected within the east end of the mound, which is therefore of the unchambered type and built of chalk rubble… The total length of the barrow is about 340ft; it is thus probably the longest barrow in Hampshire.”
Mr Dunning goes onto mention the existence of another round barrow in the same field, a little to the east, “about 80ft in diameter and 3ft high.” Since his day, several other monuments have been found in the locale.
References:
Dunning, G.C., “A New Long Barrow in Hampshire,” in Antiquaries Journal, volume 26, 1946.
Royal Commission on Historical Monuments, England, Long Barrows in Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, HMSO: London 1979.
When Pete Glastonbury brought us here, we walked east out of the Avebury stone circle and up the Wessex Ridgeway track. When you hit the “crossroads” at the top of the rise a mile along, go across the stile into the grasslands for a few hundred yards till you hit the obviously-named “Gallops” racecourse-looking stretch. Walk down for a few hundred yards till you hit a footpath on your left that takes you across and down grasslands that takes you slowly into the valley bottom. You’re damn close!
Otherwise (and I aint done this route!), walk up the footpath straight north from Clatford village, up the small valley for about 1km. You’ll eventually see this great stone heap in the field on your left!
Archaeology & History
I was brought here one fine day last year in the company of PeteG (our guide for the day), Geoff, June and Mikki Potts. Twas a fine foray exploring the various prehistoric sites on the lands east of Avebury — but it was my very first venture to this site, the Devil’s Den — and a grand one it was indeed! Standing close to the small valley bottom a couple of miles east of the great stone circle, this megalithic monument is thought to be neolithic in origin.
When H.J. Massingham (1926) came here, the day and spirit of the place must have felt fine, as he described,
“its three uprights and capstone stand forlornly in the midst of an alien sea of ploughland swinging its umber ripples to the foot of a stone isle, drifted nearly four thousand years from the happy potencies of its past.”
And, on many good times here no doubt, for many people, such feelings still hold…
A.C. Smith’s Devil’s DenColt Hoare’s Devil’s Den
It was described by the President for the Council of British Archaeology, Paul Thomas (1976), “as a setting of four sarsen uprights with a capstone”, whereby four uprights have not been noticed here since very early times. Not sure how old he was though! Today the very large capstone weighing upwards of 20 tons rests gently upon just two very bulky upright monoliths. A third is laid amidst the great tomb , overgrown and sleepy, touching one of the two uprights….
The cromlech itself seems to have once been part of a lengthy mound that was covered in earth, “about 230ft long and 120ft broad, now virtually removed by ploughing.” On top of the great capstone are at least two cup-markings: one of them with a possible oval-shaped line carved out onto the edge of the rock (similar to the C-shaped carving on the nearby Fyfield Down cup-marked stone), but this needs looking at in various lights so we can ascertain whether it has a geological or artificial origin.
Stukeley’s Devil’s Den
Suggested by Edwin Kempson (1953) and also by Aubrey Burl (2002) and other dialect and place-name students to have originally been called Dillion Dene — “the boundary marker in the valley” — this collapsed chambered tomb has had many literary visitors, from William Stukeley onwards. When the reverend Smith wrote his great tome in 1885, he gave an assessment of those who came before him, saying:
“This is a noble specimen of the Kistvaen: it stands erect in its original position, only denuded of the mound of earth which, I venture to say (on the authority of the Rev. W.C. Lukis and others best acquainted with these remains) at one time invariably covered them: and this massive erection of ponderous stones is known as the ‘Devil’s Den’, and offers an exceedingly fine specimen of the kistvaen to those who have not made the acquaintance of these ancient sepulchres in other counties. It is not only perfect in condition, but of very grand dimensions; moreover, it is well known to everybody who takes the slightest interest in Wiltshire antiquities… Stukeley says very little of this kistvaen, though he gives several plates of it (in Abury Described), his only remark being: “An eminent work of this sort in Clatford Bottom, between Abury and Marlborough.” Sir R. Hoare (in Ancient Wiltshire, North) is more enthusiastic, he says: “From Marlborough I proceed along the turnpike road as far as the Swan public house in the parish of Clatford, and then diverge into the fields on the right, where, in a retired valley amongst the hills, is a most beautiful and well-preserved kistvaen, vulgarly call’d the ‘Devil’s Den.’ It has been erroneously described as a cromlech. From the elevated ground on which this stone monument is placed, it is evident that it was intended as a aprt annexed to the sepulchral mound, and erected probably at the east end of it, according to the usual custom of primitive times.””
In more recent years, Terence Meaden (1999) has suggested that the Devil’s Den may actually have been a simple cromlech and never had any covering mound of earth. In his Secrets of the Avebury Stones he described how,
“The vertical megaliths must have been set up firmly first and then, quite possibly, a mound was raised outside and between them. A very long ramp could have been built next, along which the capstone was dragged until it lay on top of the vertical monoliths, after which both mound and ramp would be removed as far as possible. Such an operation, if correct, would explain why the stones of Devil’s Den now stand on an obviously artificial eminence; and why the much-spread remains of a long mound oriented NW-SE, about 70 metres (230 feet) long and 40 metres (130 feet) broad, were seen and described by Passmore in 1922. One should not necessarily assume that the stones are the remains of a chambered long barrow, although they might be.”
And you’ve gotta say that unless we have hardcore evidence to the contrary, his summary is quite possible. However, it seems here that Meaden has simply utilised this logic to enable him to posit another reason — a “good one” he calls it — for this suggestion, i.e.,
“its capstone seems to have profiles of heads carved upon two, perhaps three of its sides; suggesting that, if the art was meant to be seen, the capstone was never covered with earth.”
Devils Den on 1889 map
Unfortunately however, these possible “carved heads” on the sides of the capstone more typify Rorscharch responses to natural geological shapes scattering rocks all over the planet. Up North, if we were to attempt this sorta suggestion, we’d have millions of such carved heads popping up all over the place. It’s a nice idea, but somewhat unlikely.
Folklore
The old dowser Guy Underwood (1977) was renowned for locating water lines* in and around many of England’s prehistoric sites, and the same pattern was recorded here. He told that the Devil’s Den marked the site of a blind spring “of exceptional importance.” He continued:
“The Devil’s Den dolmen marks the source of a multiple water line which forms a maze, marked by stones, about 200 yards to the northwest. It terminates at a well, where two tracks cross about a mile further west. This site is likely to have had special sanctity and would be interesting to excavate.”
Whilst the importance of water was understandable in ancient days, some other folklore attributes derive from quite different ingredients. The common theme of “immovability” is found here, as described by reverend Smith (1885) again who, amidst other peculiarities, told the following:
“There are various traditions connected with it. I was told some years since, by an old man hoeing turnips near, that if anybody mounted to the top of it, he might shake it in one particular part. I do not know whether this is the case or not, though it is not unusual where the capstone is upheld by only three supporters. But another labourer whom I once interrogated informed me that nobody could ever pull off the capstone; that many had tried to do so without success; and that on one occasion twelve white oxen were provided with new harness, and set to pull it off, but the harness all fell to pieces immediately! As my informant evidently thought very seriously of this, and considered it the work of enchantment, I found it was not a matter for trifling to his honest but superstitious mind; and he remained perfectly unconvinced by all the arguments with which I tried to shake his credulity.”
References:
Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
Goddard, E., “The Devil’s Den, Manton, Wiltshire,” in The Antiquaries Journal, volume 2, no.1, January 1922.
Gomme, Alice B., ‘Folklore Scraps from Several Localities’, in Folklore, 20:1, 1909.
Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976.
Kempson, E.G.H., “The Devil’s Den,” in Wiltshire Archaeology & Natural History Magazine, 55, 1953.
Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathan Cape: London 1926.
Meaden, Terence, The Secrets of the Avebury Stones, Souvenir Press: London 1999.
Smith, A.C., A Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, Wiltshire Archaeological & Natural History Society 1885.
Thomas, Nicholas, Guide to Prehistoric England, Batsford: London 1976.
Underwood, Guy, The Pattern of the Past, Abacus: London 1977.
Wright, Joseph, English Dialect Dictionary – volume 2, Henry Frowde: London 1898.
* Those people who allege they can dowse will always find water in their first few months, if not years, of sensitivity. There is a pattern nowadays of people using dowsing tools and, when the rods cross (or whichever accessory they get their reactions from), they allege they are connecting with unknown energies, ley lines and other such items; but this is simply incorrect. The primary dowsing response is water (life-blood) and it takes much practice over long periods of time to even begin isolating leys or other occult phenomena.
Pretty simple. Get to the chapel in front of Marlborough College, and look at the stepped hill in the grounds thereof (with a big hole cut into the top where a water tower once stood). That’s it! Please be aware that this monument is on college ground, so it might be worthwhile telephoning them if you wanna wander upon the hill.
Archaeology & History
Merlin’s Mount (from Colt-Hoare’s Ancient Wiltshire)
This curious rounded, pyramidal hill is thought by some to have given the town of Marlborough its very name. Described in Domesday as ‘Merleberge’, which is reckoned to derive from “the hill or barrow of Maerla”: Maerla in this case being a lost olde English name, said in local folklore and tradition to have been our old heathen magickian, Merlin, of Arthurian fame and legend. Long ago his bones were laid to rest here and this great ‘tomb’ built over him. We might never know…
The exact nature and date of this mound has yet to be satisfactorily explained. Commonly ascribed as Norman in origin (based mainly on the notion that it wasn’t mentioned before Domesday and there being motte and bailey ruins here), the finding of Roman remains near its base then led some to think they had built the hill; but when “antler picks used by its prehistoric builders were unearthed in the late nineteenth century and again in 1912 when a trench was cut for the flue of a new engine-house chimney” (Burl 2002), the dates for its origin went a lot further back!
One of the earlier commentators on this archaeological curiosity was Sir Richard Colt-Hoare (1812) in the days when much more of this and other sites were visible in the landscape, saying:
“The Mount within the gardens of the Castle Inn is a remarkable earthwork: it is a huge pile of earth, and inferior in proportions only to Silbury Hill. Each is situated on the River Kennet; the one near its source, the other near its margin; and I have no doubt but that in ancient times each had some corresponding connection with each other.”
A sentiment echoed by our modern megalithic scholar, Aubrey Burl. (2002) But as Burl points out, the distance between Silbury and Merlin’s Mount would have been measured not in distance by those who constructed these giant mounds, but in time. And the focus of our ancestors here in relation to these two great artificial mounds, would not be esteemed as much by engineering or measurement — for both mounds are gigantic — but a wholly mythic one. Colt-Hoare continued:
“This mound has been so mutilated, as well as lowered in its height, that it is impossible to calculate an exact measurement of either its circumference or height; but as nearly as we could guess with our chains, we found the base to be about 1000 feet in circumference, and the diameter of the summit 100 feet.”
A piece of Merlin’s Mount!
When the reverend A.C. Smith (1885) described Merlin’s Mount — or ‘Marlborough Hill’ as he preferred it named — more than seventy years later as, “an artificial tumulus which deserves careful examination”, it seems little further investigation had been done. And despite Smith’s wish for such care and attention, even today no detailed archaeological investigation has been undertaken. Astonishing! This fascinating-looking pyramidal “barrow” was thought by several early writers to have been constructed along similar architectural designs as that of Silbury Hill. In Massingham’s (1926) fascinating Egyptian-origin hypothesis, he tells us the following:
“Merlin’s Mount encompasses only an acre-and-a-half of ground in comparison with Silbury’s five-and-a-half, and reaches a trifle more than half its height (60 feet). In every other respect the twain are alike. Both were raised at the foot of a gentle slope, both were made of chalk resting on a thin layer of clay, both were trenched around the bases, and in both were buried the antlered picks of the builders. Both were built near the banks of the (River) Kennet within five miles of one and other.”
It certainly is impressive! When Michala Potts and I came here last year in the fine company of Pete Glastonbury and others, we were somewhat in awe of the fact that so little has been said of this site in modern archaeological terms. Indeed, the fact that the jury is still out as to the age of its construction we found quite surprising at the time. Though another quick reading of Mr Burl’s Avebury work, combining the Roman finds and the antler picks here, makes him think that “a prehistoric origin for the mound likely.”
The name of Marlborough itself has been given a number of interpretations, most notably the attempt to derive it from the great shaman-poet Merlin. But on a down-to-earth peasant level we find, in John Aubrey’s Monumenta Britannica there’s a note in the margin concerning the ‘marl’ element in the place-name that was told to him by a local man called Edward Leigh, which said,
“Marga, marle, we use instead of dung to manure our ground. It (Marlborough) lieth near a chalky hill, which our ancestors knew. They borrowed this name ‘chaulk’ of the Latin, calx, named marle.”
More recently Margaret Gelling (1984) thought that the name of this hill or mound “is variously interpreted as a plant-name or a personal name.” Which for some brings us back to Merlin! We might never know…
References:
Best, J., “The Marlborough Mound,” in A. Whittle’s Sacred Mound, Holy Rings (Oxford 1997).
Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
Field, David, Brown, Graham & Crockett, Andrew, “The Marlborough Mound Revisited,” in Wiltshire Archaeologial & Natural History Magazine, 94, 2001.
Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape, Phoenix: London 1984.
Hoare, Richard Colt, The Ancient History of South Wiltshireand the Ancient History of North Wiltshire, London 1812.
Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathon Cape: London 1926.
Smith, A.C., Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, WANHS 1885.
Dead easy this! (though a bittova cheat) Get to the Bristol City Museum and look inside. This Google map should help those of you who don’t know Bristol too well.
Archaeology & History
Grinsell’s drawing of the carved slab (PPS 1957)
Found amidst a large cluster of other neolithic and Bronze Age remains—with the amazing line of the Priddy henges just a few hundred yards to the southeast—this is one helluva rare relic this thing: a carved stone, with seeming cup-marks and engraved “feet” no less, which was found when dug out of a prehistoric tomb way down South. Obviously a buncha northern lads and lasses must’ve been on one helluva piss-up! (y’ never know…) Although the tomb — a round barrow by all accounts — was well-known and excavated in 1930, the carving was somehow not noticed by the archaeologists when they dug here! But it has to be said, at that period many archaeologists thought rock art to be insignificant and unworthy of study, so perhaps their ignorance stemmed from the academic myopia of the time.
But at least they gave a reasonable description of the tomb itself. It was due to be destroyed and the considerable mass of material from it was used for widening the nearby road!!! Thankfully, for some reason, “the chamber or cist was left in situ” under the ground. Leslie V. Grinsell (1957) takes up the tale:
“The barrow appeared to be about 100 feet in diameter and 3¾ feet high, but it had been spread and its height reduced by many ploughings. Excavation showed that the barrow, which was of the bowl type, was composed of fine mould throughout, and had never been enclosed by a ditch. In the centre of the barrow, there was a stone chamber or cist, the external dimensions of which were 5½ feet long, 4½ feet wide, and 2½ feet high. The floor, which was ‘crazy-paved’, was approximately on the ground-level. The cist was placed with its long axis SE-NW. The late Father Ethelbert Horne, who wrote the excavation report, stated that the south-eastern slab, which was inserted 6 inches deep into the floor, had the character of a ‘closing-slab’, and outside it were several packing stones. There was a large cover slab of Dolomitic Conglomerate. The small northwestern slab is of Carboniferous Limestone, and the south-eastern slab is of Liassic Chert, but the large south-western and north-eastern slabs are of sandstone derived from the vicinity. The essential characteristics of this structure are therefore that is was abnormally large for a stone cist, had a strong suspicion of a ‘closing slab’ (implying some kind of entrance?) at the south-eastern end, and was above ground level, with its floor on that level.
“On the floor of this chamber or cist, at the foot of the approximate centre of the south-western slab, was a heap of burnt human bones, free from any admixture of charcoal. As these bones had been broken small after being cremated, their determination was by no means easy. Prof E. Fawcett…expressed the belief that they may have comprised the remains of an adult and a young person.”
But it was in 1956 that the carvings were noticed on the cist remains — by Mr Grinsell and his friend, C.S. Taylor. At first they thought that some of the etchings were of human hands, but they later realised they were of human feet. Grinsell wrote:
“The Foot carvings: The feet shown are all single feet, no two forming a left-and-right pair of the same individual. Nos. 1,2 and 3, in a row, are large, medium and small; no.4 is oblique in form; no.5 is on a slightly recessed portion of the slab; and no.6 represents the foot of a child between about 3 and 4 years old. No.3 represents the foot of a child about 10-12 years of age. Nos. 1,2,4 and 5 appear to represent the feet of adults. No.7 is the symbol of uncertain meaning. All these foot carvings show rounded heels and toes, in contrast to those on the Calderstones which are nearly all rectangular. The toes are all splayed, and this carving is likely to be due partly to the nature of the stone and the tools with which they are carved, and partly to the fact that the feet represented are probably those of a people who did not wear shoes, or wore footwear that did not constrict the toes.
“The Cup-marks: There are nine (possibly ten) cup-marks; their diameter ranges between 0.9 inches and 1.9 inches, and their depth between 0.1 inch and 0.3 inches… They are on the average about twice as deep as the foot-carvings. The smallest cup-mark (no.17) is beside the smallest foot-carving; but there is no noticeable relationship between the other cup-marks and foot-carvings…”
Earliest known photo of the carving by R.A. Whiteford
An intriguing carved slab at the very least! We can say with some certainty that this old tomb was of considerable importance to the people who built and lived around it in the centuries that followed (ancestral spirits and all that). It may have been a tomb of an important tribal elder, shaman or queen — though we may never truly know. But one thing which local archaeologists and antiquarians need to keep their eyes open for when opening any more burial sites in and around this region, are other examples of rock art, for the rule tends to be: where there’s one carving, others are close by! So wherefore art the others…?
References:
Coles, J., Gestsdottir, H. & Minnitt, S., “A Bronze Age Decorated Cist from Pool Farm, West Harptree: New Analyses,” in Proceedings of the Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society, 144, 2000.
Grinsell, Leslie V., “A Decorated Cist-Slab from Mendip,” in Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, volume 23, 1957.
To get here, follow the same directions to reach the ornate Lunar Stone. Once here, walk about 20 yards west towards where the brow of the hill begins to slope down. Amble about and you’ll easily find it.
Archaeology & History
This is a fascinating carving. Fascinating, inasmuch as it seemingly keeps changing appearance when Nature moves her daylight hues and whimsical unpredictability betwixt the hills, surrounding landscape and human observer. Depending very much where you stand and when you look at this small rock — dappled with unacknowledged veils of sunlights, grey winds and other natural forces — determines what the stone shows you. This carving as much as any upon this hill shows once again the hugely neglected dynamic between human purveyor and Nature’s powerful subtlety: an organic exchange of moods from stone to man and back again; very much how our ancestors saw things to be…
Pecked lines clearly visible on the far end of the rockCarving from above
For if we were to merely pay attention to what the reference books tell us about this carving (good reference books though they are!), we’d simply be seeing a rock possessing a “cup and partial ring and two other possible cups”, as Boughey & Vickerman (2003) and other students might do. But then, if conditions change, only subtly, and we gaze instead of study, other things can emerge. And just such a thing happened when we came here yesterday…
On my first visit here I could only see a single cup-marking, with another ‘debatable’ close by. The light of day wasn’t quite right it seemed. But when we visited here yesterday, the sun, the light, the land and our ambling minds saw much more unveiled from this old grey surface. Whilst two cups-and-rings seem to link with another cup on the lower end of the stone, amidst the natural cracks and fissures, on the higher end are very distinct carved pecked lines, one of which has been blatantly cut onto, or upon, the long curving crack which runs from one end of the stone to the other. As this carved line emerges out of the natural crack, it heads upwards. As it does so, another line has been pecked running off it to the left and then curves back down the sloping rock-face once again. But in this previously unrecognised carved section, these lines may extend even further up the rock…..it’s hard to say for sure. We could do with greater analysis of its surface, with further observations under yet more lighting conditions.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Early photo of the North Hill tomb (Crawford 1928)
On the north side of Samson island there are several chambered tombs and cairns scattered around the edges of aptly-named North Hill; but the one illustrated here was one of the first to be excavated in 1862-3. Although O.G.S. Crawford (1928) wrote about the site in his essay on Cornish cists — from where this old black-and-white photo of the site has been taken — it was described in much greater detail in Borlase’s (1872) archaeological magnum opus of the day. In his time, this now much-denuded burial site had all the outer hallmarks of being a large tumulus. This was described in some detail in a paper written by one Mr Augustus Smith (read at a Meeting of the Royal Institution of Cornwall in May, 1863) who was fortunate enough to be one of the first people to unearth this great tomb and find the site untouched since it had been laid, thousands of years earlier. Citing extensively from Smith’s notes, Borlase told:
“The Barrow…is situated with four or five others, mostly rifled on the…high ground at the northern end. “The mound, in its outer circumference, measured about 58 feet, giving, therefore, a distance of near upon 30 feet to its centre, from where the excavation was commenced. For about 18 or 20 feet the mound appeared entirely composed of fine earth, when an inner covering, first of smaller and then or large rugged stones, was revealed. These were carefully uncovered before being disturbed, and were then one by one displaced till a large upright stone was reached, covered by another of still more ponderous dimensions, which projected partially over the edges of the other. At length this top covering, of irregular shape, but measuring about 5 feet 6 inches in its largest diameter, was thoroughly cleared of the superincumbent stones and earth, and showed itself evidently to be the lid to some mysterious vault or chamber beneath.” On the lid being removed, there was “disclosed to view an oblong stone chest or sarcophagus beneath” on the floor of which, “in a small patch,” “a little heap of bones, the fragmentary framework of some denizen of earth, perhaps a former proprietor of the Islands—were discovered piled together in one corner.
“”The bones were carefully taken out, and the more prominent fragments, on subsequent examination by a medical gentleman, were found to give the following particulars: – Part of an upper jawbone presented the alveolæ of all the incisors, the canines, two cuspids and three molars, and the roots of two teeth, very white, still remaining in the sockets. Another fragment gave part of the lower jaw with similar remains of teeth in the sockets. All the bones had been under the action of fire and must have been carefully collected together after the burning of the body. They are considered to have belonged to a man about 50 years of age…
“”The bottom of the sarcophagus was neatly fitted with a pavement of three flat but irregular-shaped stones, the joints fitted with clay mortar, as were also the insterstices where the stones forming the upright sides joined together, as also the lid, which was very neatly and closely fitted down with this same plaster.
“”Two long slabs, from seven to nine feet in length, and two feet in depth, form the sides, while the short stones fitted in between them make the ends, being about 3½ feet apart, and to fix which firmly in their places, grooves had been roughly worked in the larger stones.” The paving stones had been “embedded immediately upon the natural surface of the granite of which the hill consists.”
References:
Borlase, William Copeland, Nænia Cornubiæ, Longmans Green: London 1872.
Crawford, O.G.S., “Stone Cists,” in Antiquity Journal, volume 2, no.8, December 1928.
An unexcavated ring cairn in a very good state of preservation can be seen in the field immediately west of the River Halladale. Measuring more than 14 yards across east-west and 15 yards north-south, the site stands in association with several other unexcavated cairns.
Folklore
Although some of the cairns here have been found with prehistoric burials in them, tradition tells that the cairns here were the result of “a great battle between the native Pictish inhabitants and the invading Norsemen.” So wrote George Sutherland, many moons ago. He continued:
“The Norsemen were defeated in that battle, and Halladha, their leader, was slain. It is from him that the river and the dale take their name. The battle was fought on a hillside, on the east side of the river and that hillside is covered with cairns which are supposed to mark the graves of those slain in this battle, but the body of Halladha, the norse leader, was interred on the west side of the river, and his sword was laid in the grave beside his body. Near the circular trench where he is said to have been buried there are several heaps of stones which are supposed to mark the graves of other Norsemen of note who fell in the battle.”
References:
Sutherland, G., Folklore Gleanings and Character Sketches from the Far North, John o’ Groats Journal: Wick 1937.
I’m presuming that this burial site is the right one, described in the fine Mr MacGregor’s Peat Fire Flame (1937) as being “by the roadside up near Scallasaig.” There certainly doesn’t appear to be another alternative site close by (though if I’ve got it wrong, someone please lemme know!). This place was, said MacGregor, a site “where the people in olden times used to worship the serpent.”
MacGregor spoke with a local man about the myths here and asked how long it had been associated with serpents.
“Och, about two thousand years,” said Mr John MacRae. “The mound was in the shape of a serpent, and when the chief of the people would die, he would be buried in the head of the serpent..”
He continued, saying, “One from London, that was going about searching things like that, opened the mound, and they found in the mound a big stone coffin with a big stone slab on the top. And there the bowl was found with the ashes of the chief of the people at that time. The bowl was taken to the Manse. That’s about fifty years ago. It was there for a few months; and they took it to Edinburgh, to some museum or something. They were saying that there was a funny noise in the Manse when the bowl was lying there. If there was any treasure in the bowl, or in the grave along with the bowl, it was taken out before. You see, had he any treasure – the chief like – guns and money and the like – I’m sure they wouldn’t be putting much money in the grave. It would be going into the grave with the dead man, so, when he would rise in the next world, he would be ready to start at the same game as he was carrying on here on Earth.”
This sounds a little like the folk-memory of an idea of a heathen afterlife – and of course it’d make sense finding such lore here at a tomb.
I’ve come across references to several other serpent mounds scattering the western side of Scotland, but their exact locations have proven hard to pin down. It makes y’ wonder how many more there once were before the christian paradigm became entangled in the myths of the country people.
References:
MacGregor, Alisdair Alpin, The Peat-Fire Flame: Folk-Tales and Traditions of the Highlands and Islands, Ettrick Press: Edinburgh 1937.
Dead easy this. From Otley, take the north road over the River Wharfe and turn left following the signs to Askwith, where you’ll hit Weston village first. Once here, take the small left turn down to Weston Hall and the accompanying church. Go into the churchyard and check the graves!
Archaeology & History
This is a real curiosity. It’s found in the graveyard of All Saints church, Weston, where one of the graves has several small stones on it, with this small stone with the following cup-and-ring designs upon it. A plaque has been attached to it as a memorial to one ‘Susan Mary Dawson’. Strange…
Sid Jackson’s 1958 sketchCup-marked stone deliberately placed on a christian grave
It was first written about by Sidney Jackson (1957), but where it first came from and why it has been placed here in a christian setting is something of a mystery. It’s also odd inasmuch as although we know that there was some form of ritual or geomantic use of cup-and-rings in relation to neolithic and Bronze Age burials — that such a tradition has been performed by this particular family on this grave. It is obviously highly unlikely that this family had any knowledge whatsoever of burial traditions in relation to cup-and-ring art (please, shoot me down in flames if you know otherwise), so this re-use of this prehistoric stone is likely to be little other than fortuitous. But then, the occult history of some of the influential families in and around this region in relation to witchcraft, ancient kingship and esoteric practices, might indicate otherwise…
Does anyone know anything about the Dawson family history which might throw light on this modern use of a prehistoric tomb marker? It has all the hallmarks of once coming from a prehistoric cairn, but we know little of its history prior to 1957.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS 2003.
Jackson, Sidney, ‘Cup-and-Ring Boulder, Weston Churchyard,’ in Cartwright Hall Archaeology Group Bulletin, 2:16, 1957.
Go up through Baildon centre and head onto the moors. Crossing the cattle-grid, a coupla hundred yards further up, turn left. Past the small reservoirs on your left, another 100 yards or so and you reach the brow of the hill. As you begin going down the road, there’s a small car-park right by the roadside. The curious remains of the earthworks at the side of the old circle are discernible in the grassland right to its side.
Archaeology & History
Illustrated on the 6-inch OS-map of 1852 as “Site of a Barrow” (similar to how it appears in the image drawn here by Mr. C.N.M. Colls) a short distance below Pennythorn Hill top, there are still considerable traces of the earthworks surrounding the east and southern sides of what was once some form of ring cairn or tumulus that was once at this prominent place in the landscape.
Aerial view of siteThe site was first explored by Mr Colls in 1843 (his results were reported a few years later), who found a loose double-ring of stones, fifty feet across, surrounded by a shallow trench which was most notable on the south and east sides. Two urns were also uncovered near the centre of the ring, nearly two feet down, containing the cremated remains of people. A few years later, the Leeds historian James Wardell (1869) told a most fascinating note about what happened during their excavation, saying:
“This…examination was attended by a circumstance not soon to be forgotten by the persons engaged therein (on the excavation). They had almost reached the place where the broken urn and bones were deposited when, at once, such a fearful storm of thunder, lightning and rain came on, that they were not only considerably alarmed, but driven from the Common to seek shelter in the village.”
Colls’ 1846 sketch
We hear this sorta thing at many of our ancient places!
Colls 1846 plan
One anonymous writer in 1955 described the site as a ‘stone circle’, and a number of subsequent archaeologists copied this without question; but in all probability this site was more typical of an old cairn circle or ring-cairn, similar in size and design to the Roms Law circle two miles north of here. However, the earthworks at its side give the impression of some sort of exaggerated hengiform enclosure.
The place-name element howe strongly indicates a burial site and is a suffix found at many prehistoric tombs across northern England. The prefix ‘acre’ may relate to “a plot of arable or cultivated land, a measure of land (an acre) which a yoke of oxen could plough in a day” (Smith 1956), or may be a corrupted form of the Old English word, ‘acen’, relating to oak trees. Early literary examples of the place-name would enable a clearer understanding of the prefix element here.
References:
Anonymous, Colls’ Burial Mound Stone Circle, Baildon Moor, Museum Leaflets: Bradford 1955.
Baildon, W. Paley, Baildon and the Baildons (parts 1-15), St. Catherines: Adelphi 1913-26.
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Eaton: Merseyside 1982.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Colls, J.N.M., ‘Letter upon some Early Remains Discovered in Yorkshire,’ in Archaeologia, 31, 1846.
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J.H., Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Wardell, James, Historical Notes of Ilkley, Rombald’s Moor, Baildon Common, and other Matters of the British and Roman Periods, Joseph Dodgson: Leeds 1869. (2nd edition 1881)
