William Borlase (1769), in his revised classic on the megaliths & antiquities of Cornwall, wrote:
“Since we are now considering these Stone-monuments, there is a very singular Monument in the Parish of Madern (Cornwall) which in this place, will naturally offer itself to our enquiry. In the Tenement of Lanyon stand three Stones-erect on a triangular Plan. The shape, size, distance and bearing, will best be discerned from the plan and elevation of them…
“The length of the area described by the supporters of Lanyon Quoit is seven feet; but it does not ſtand East and West, as at Molfra, but North and South… There is no Kist-vaen, that is, no area marked out by Side Stones, under this Quoit, which is more than 47 feet in girt, nineteen feet long; its thickness in the middle, on the Eastern edge, is sixteen inches, at each end not so much, but at the Western edge this Quoit is two feet thick. The two chief supporters…do not stand at right angles with the front line, as in other Cromlehs, but obliquely, being forced from their original position, as I imagine, by the weight of this Quoit, which is also so high that a man can fit on horseback under it. Under this Quoit I caused to be sunk a pit of four feet and half deep, and found it all black earth that had been moved, and should have sunk still deeper, but that the Gentleman in whose ground it is, told me, that a few years before, the whole cavity had been opened (on account of some dream) to the full depth of six feet, and then the faster appeared, and they dug no deeper; that the cavity was in the shape of a grave, and had been rifled more than once, but that nothing was found more than ordinary. This Cromleh stands on a low bank of earth, not two feet higher than the adjacent soil, about 20 feet wide, and 70 long, running North and South: at the South end has many rough Stones, some pitched on end, in no order; yet not the natural furniture of the surface, but designedly put there; though, by the remains, it is difficult to say what their original poſition was. Wet N. W. there is a high stone about 80 yards distance. By the black earth thrown up in digging here, nothing is to be absolutely concluded, there having happened so many disturbances. By the pit being in the shape of a grave, and six feet deep, it is not improbable that a human body was interred here, and by the length of the bank, and the many disorderly stones at the South end, this should seem to have been a burial place for more than one person.”
William Borlase 1769 ground-planWilliam Borlase 1769 sketch
Antiquarian Notes
William Cotton, in 1827, told that:
“About a mile and a half north of the church, in the parish of Maddern, and close to the road side, is Lanyon Cromleh, so called from the name of the estate on which it stands. The covering stone, which is nearly flat, and of a triangular figure, measures 44 feet 10 inches in circumference, 18 feet 2 inches in its greatest length, and 9 feet in width, and weighs 15 tons. This Quoit, as it is usually called, was originally supported on four upright stones, describing an open area 7 feet in length, north and south, but not forming an enclosed Kistvaen, like Molfra and Chun Cromlehs. During a very violent storm in the year 1815, when the Delhi East Indiaman was wrecked in Mount’s Bay, it fell to the ground, and one of the supporting stones was then broken. It is probable that the earth beneath it, having been frequently loosened by excavations, was washed away by the heavy rains, and caused its downfal. In the year 1824 it was again set up, by subscription among the inhabitants, with the machinery used in replacing the Logging Rock, under the superintendence of Captain Giddy, R.N., whose zealous exertions overcame every difficulty, and merit the thanks of all topographical antiquaries. The Cromleh now stands as firm as ever: in putting it up, a piece was broken off the top stone, at A, (see the plan). It is supported on three upright stones, each 4 feet 10 inches in height, the tops having been made level, and their positions a little altered.
“This view represents Lanyon Cromleh as it now stands, and differs from all the prints I have seen of it, — which have been uniformly copied from Dr. Borlase’s book, and do not, by any means, give a correct representation. The doctor says, in his time a man on horseback could ride under the incumbent stone — now, its height from the ground is only 4 feet 10 inches. The figures 1824, to mark the year when it was re-erected, have been rudely inscribed on one of the supporting stones.
“Dr. Borlase caused an excavation to be made under this Cromleh, as well as under the last mentioned, but without discovering any human bones ; he was led, however, to conclude, by the appearance of the earth, that a body had been interred there.”
Cotton’s 1827 sketch
Antiquarian Notes
James Orchard Halliwell wrote, in 1861:
“At a distance of some five miles from Penzance, on the road from Madron to Morvah, near the road, on the right-hand side, is the Lanyon Quoit or Cromlech, a fine specimen, and perfect in all essential particulars. The best way of reaching it, if walking, is to take the path to the left in the fields after passing the Madron Union, and keep as nearly in a straight line as possible until the cromlech appears. It is situated in a conspicuous situation in the midst of a wild moor, and is interesting in its Titanic grandeur and vast antiquity. The top covering consists of an enormous flab of granite, supported by three upright unhewn blocks of stone, but near there are three fallen stones, one of which at least was certainly at one time one of the supporters. The dimensions of the cap-stone are thus given by Borlase: —
“This quoit is more than forty-seven feet in girt, and nineteen feet long ; its thickness in the middle on the eastern edge is sixteen inches, at each end not so much, but at the western edge it is two feet thick.”
This cromlech is sometimes called by the country people the Giant’s Quoit, and occasionally the Giant’s Table. My measurement made the covering-stone forty-fix feet in circumference, with a thickness varying from ten to eighteen inches. It is not improbable that the stone has been chipped off at one or two of the corners since the time of Borlase. Between the cromlech and the road are the remains of a stone and earth circular barrow about eighteen feet in diameter. There is an odd tradition that the first battle fought in England was decided in the locality of Lanyon Quoit.”
Blight, J.T., A Week at the Land’s End, Longmans Green: London 1861.
Borlase, William, Antiquities, Historical and Monumental, of the County of Cornwall, Bowyer & Nichols: London 1769.
Borlase, William Copeland, Nænia Cornubiæ, Longmans Green Reader: Truro 1872.
Colquhoun, Ithell, The Living Stones, Cornwall, Peter Owen: London 1957.
Cooke, Ian, Antiquities of West Cornwall – Guide 1, Cornwall Litho: Reduth 2002.
Halliwell, J.O., Rambles in Western Cornwall in the Footsteps of Giants, John Russel Smith: London 1861.
Jewitt, Llewellynn, Grave Mounds and their Contents, Groombridge: London 1870.
Redding, Cyrus, An Illustrated Itinerary of the County of Cornwall, How & Parsons: London 1842.
Russell, Vivien, West Penwith Survey, Cornwall Archaeological Society: Truro 1971.
Straffon, Cheryl, Megalithic Mysteries of Cornwall, Meyn Mamvro: Penzance 2004.
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Along the A83 road, 2.6 miles (4.2km) south of Minard and/or 2.7 miles (4.4km) north of Lochgair village, an all-but-hidden parking area is on the east side of the road at the edge of the trees. Go in here and park up. Roughly halfway along where the track bends and set back against the fencing, you’ll see this obvious standing stone hiding away. If you visit this place in the summer months, it will be very hard to see. (in the event that you have the time and cutting ingredients, it’d be good to clear the stone from the undergrowth so it can be seen clearly)
Archaeology & History
Kilmichael Beg, looking E
Set back into the undergrowth of brambles and other spiney vegetation is this little-known standing stone, some four feet tall, that was converted for use as a gatepost at the end of the 19th century. It is said to have once been on the other side of the road before it was used in the line of fencing, when the metal rod coming out of the crown of the stone was inserted. The monolith is very worn and eroded on all sides, showing great age—seeming to affirm the local tradition of its antiquity. If anyone has any further information about this stone, please let us know.
Standing Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – NN 795 168
Archaeology & History
When Fred Coles (1911) visited the giant impressive Dunruchan standing stones, he told that “some distance to the east” of the Dunruchan E stone, “near the unnamed stream…my friend Mr James Simpson has seen another great Stone, but lying prostrate.” When he visited the area the weather beat him back (easily done up here!) and prevented him “from wandering far over the moor, and therefore this Stone was not observed.” It remains lost. (the grid-reference given for this site is an approximation)
Along the A85 road between Comrie and St Fillans, just over a mile out of Comrie, on the right-hand side (north) of the road is the small farm-track into the fields where the ruined stone circle of Tullybannocher lives. Walk up this track (known as Maam Road), past the stones, and keep going uphill for more than a mile (literally 1 mile up, another track turns sheer right, but ignore it) where the track eventually levels-out; keep walking for another 600 yards, slightly downhill, until you reach a distinct fork in the track where you need to veer right, uphill, and keep walking up the track for ⅔-mile (1km) where you’ll see a cottage ahead of you. About 50 yards before the house, down the slope on your left, a large rounded mass covered in bracken is the site you’re after.
Archaeology & History
This is an odd site, in more ways than one. In the 18th and 19th century, local people told that it was “a very ancient churchyard, so old, indeed, that the grave-stones among the rank grass are scarcely discernible.” (Carment 1882) This lore was reinforced by the fact that, as James Gow (1888) put it,
“within living memory that a burial took place here, and the tradition is that people came to bury the “wee unchristened bairns” from long distances, such as Loch Tayside, Glendochart, Balquhidder, and Strathyre.”
Looking W, at the circle
The old mound, looking SE
That’s a lot of effort and a considerable distance for some people to travel! But the age and nature of this site is curious. It very name, Drum-na-kill derives from either “ridge of the burial ground” or the “hill of the chapel” (and variants thereof)—yet there are no records of any such early church or religious cell here. That doesn’t mean, of course, that there never was one. A wandering Culdee priest may have set up camp here more than a thousand years ago after doing his service with the fading druids of Dull, less than 20 miles to the north. Such things, never written down, will obviously have happened in these mountains and cannot be discounted merely due to a lack of scripts. But we simply don’t know. When Mr Gow described the place—as “a raised enclosure 25 to 30 feet in diameter, with, a turf-covered wall or rampart 3 or 4 feet high surrounding it”—he emphasized that “in former times (it) was used as a burying ground for unbaptised infants.” (large numbers of Highlanders weren’t in the slightest bit interested in the ways of the Church) So how far back in time did this tradition go…?
Well, Gow thought the place to be an early christian site. But when Fred Coles came here more than thirty years later, during his massive survey of the Perthshire stone circles, he deemed it to be a much earlier construction. A “cairn circle” no less—which would give it a more Bronze Age footprint. And this definition has stuck. Coles (1911) told that,
Coles’ 1911 diagram
Raised ‘walling’ highlighted
“This Cairn-circle is about seventy yards east of the shepherd’s cottage, and it slightly resembles others already noticed in Perthshire. It measures from crest to crest of its circular ridge 44 feet 3 inches east and west by 37 feet 10 inches north and south. Several large blocks of stone lie exposed on the crest, and many others can be felt as one walks along it. The ridge is completely oval-circular, having no break or passage-way, and encloses a flattish, rather uneven space measuring about 34 feet in diameter. The height above the outside ground at the best-preserved portions is fully 4 feet.”
More than a century later, its not changed much—although if you were to believe the updated Trove website, “the cairn has been destroyed in the process of land improvement.” Which is untrue. As the albeit darkened photos here show (we visited it on a truly dark grey day), the raised cairn, despite being covered in a mass of deep bracken, is clearly in a condition similar to what Coles described. It looks like a typical example of this type of monument, of considerable size, with reasonably well-defined edges and comprising the usual scattered mass of stones in and around it. The large boulders that Coles described don’t seem to be in evidence, but these were apparently shifted a few decades back and added to the enclosure walling to the east. To honest, only the untrained eye would miss the place! Check it out when you’re looking at the cup-marked stone, less than a hundred yards to the east…
References:
Carment, Samuel, Scenes and Legends of Comrie, James P. Mathew: Dundee 1882.
Along the B8079 road in Blair Atholl village, take the minor road signposted to the Bridge of Tilt. After half-a-mile, where the road splits, keep to the right and head further uphill and, where the almost-track-like road splits again another quarter mile up, bear to the right again and just keep going uphill for nearly two miles until your reach the large car-park on the left. Park here and then take the dirt-track to the farm (truly friendly helpful folk) where, in the field to the rear of the buildings, a large unmissable mound rises up!
Archaeology & History
This is a bit of a beauty! Hiding away on the southern edges of the Cairngorms we find this huge archetypal burial mound, 35 yards across and all but covered nowadays in deep layers of soil. But it looks good. When you walk onto its crown, about twelve feet up, you see and feel beneath you the scattered mass of small rocks and stones that comprise the monument as a whole, from top to bottom. On its south-western side, the cairn is lower and elongated: this is due, on the whole, to where field clearance stones were pushed up against the monument many decades ago, making that side of it look bigger than it originally was.
Naomi on top for size!
Monzie cairn, looking W
Curiously perhaps, no archaeological attention of any worth has been give to the site apart from the usual estimates of its size and a guesstimate of it being neolithic or Bronze Age in nature (an easy thing to suggest). On top, just beneath the grasses, is what may be the section of a small cist, but this may just be a fortuituous formation. Excavation is required! It’s one of a small number of old cairns and tombs in this locale, but this seems to be the biggest — unless, of course, the lost but legendary Carn Deshal, less than a mile to the south, stood larger…
Acknowledgements: To my awesome Naomi – for getting us up here.
First described in the Object Name Book* of 1867 as being “the remains of a cairn in which D MacMillan of Glenbarr says a cist was found”, this prehistoric tomb was subsequently going to be destroyed in the 1950s by the farmer when local researchers Mr & Mrs J.G. Scott (1958) took to checking the place out before its demise. And it was a damn good job they did! The cairn still remains to this day—albeit in a very dilapidated state. The assistant editor of The Prehistoric Society journal, Ian Longworth (1959), wrote an account of the findings, telling:
“A small mound, apparently the remains of a cairn, was excavated on the farm of Glencreggan by Mr and Mrs J.G. Scott. The mound was roughly oval in shape, about 20 feet by 14 feet in size, and about 2 feet in height, with its longer axis lying almost E-W. A large stone slab, about 8 by 3 feet in size, lay against its N corner.
“The cairn was found to consist of a small and fairly compact core of stones intermixed with sand and clay, surrounded by a rather ill-defined outer ring of boulders, the intervening space being largely filled with earth. Remains of a cremated burial were found beneath the centre core, but there was no trace of a cist, and the bones seemed to be scattered, giving the impression that the cairn might mark the spot where the cremation took place. Apart from a flint flake, the only finds were two small boulders, each bearing a single cup-mark, which were incorporated in the material of the centre core.”
Of the two cup-marked stones found beneath the cairn, they’re presently living in some box somewhere in the Kelvingrove Museum, Glasgow, who are very approachable when it comes to viewing them if you make an appointment. I have to say though, one of them may be natural, as it has the distinct look of being the creation of molluscs, who live in profuse numbers just off the coast hereby. Nonetheless, they were left in the tomb as offerings to the ancestral spirits here.
References:
Bede, Cuthbert, Glencreggan – 2 volumes, Longman Green: London 1861.
Longworth, Ian, “Notes on Excavations in the British Isles, 1958,” in Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, volume 25, 1959.
Royal Commission Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – volume 1: Kintyre, HMSO: Edinburgh 1971.
* The Object Name Book website recently got “upgraded”, to make it better, smilier, user-friendly, and the usual buzzwords we all hear when things are just gonna get worse. The website is now a real pain-in-the-arse to use since those halfwit management-types upgraded the site, making it much more hard work to find anything. Fucking idiots! Who pays these morons?!
The King Stone of Rollright (photo by Sir Wilson III)
If you’ve reached the impressive Rollright Stone circle, simply cross the road, go through the gate and into the field, then up the gentle slope to your right. Y’ can’t miss it! If though, by any chance, you can’t find the Rollright Stones, get to Chipping Norton and ask a local!
Archaeology & History
An integral part of the Rollright Stones complex, this gnarled almost moth-eaten-looking standing stone, whose edges were cut away for medicinal properties in earlier centuries, still awakes each morning beside the small rise in the field, long thought to have been the remains of an ancient tomb — much to the archaeologist’s opinionated disdain in bygone years. Yet they had to swallow their pride…
This is an eight-foot-tall standing stone made from the same local oolitic limestone as the King’s Men and overlooks the village of Long Compton on the northern side of the ridge. It actually stands besides an artificial mound which has been identified as a Bronze Age cairn—known in times past as the ‘Archdruid’s Barrow’— and suggested by Lambrick to date from around 1800 BCE. More recently however, the world’s leading authority on stone circles, Professor Aubrey Burl, has given the King Stone a more probable construction date of 3000 BCE. The date is consistent with other Neolithic finds in the adjacent fields. This old standing stone has suffered much down the centuries, with bits of it being chipped away to such an extent that it has been reduced to the novel shape we see today.
Looking up at the King (photo by Sir Wilson III)
The King in dance
A little-known but important piece of megalithic history took place here in the 1970s and ’80s. It centred around an idea to investigation so-called “mysterious events” that are commonly reported at standing stones—and the King Stone has its own CV when it comes to such things. Curious stories have been described by people from all walks of life. Down the years, a number of people have told me of feeling some strange and powerful ‘energy’ at these places and stories of such things have filled many volumes, along with being the subject of many a folktale. So one evening in November, 1977, the then editor of The Ley Hunter, Paul Devereux, convened a meeting where twenty people from differing backgrounds gathered. At this first meeting were people from a variety of professional backgrounds: archaeologists, dowsers, chemists, biochemists, biologists, electronic engineers, geochemists, geophysicists, zoologists—and ley hunters of course. It was time, they thought, to address this issue of anomalous energies at stone circles and other ritual sites.
After some discussion about what they should call their investigations, “the long association of the dragon with some kind of earth force made it a fitting symbol.” And so, the Dragon Project (DP) was born…
On the misty morning of Saturday, 24 October, 1978, research scientist Don Robins—in the company of his dog and young son—drove the hundred miles from London to the Rollright Stones armed with a simple ultrasound detector. He didn’t know what he would find there, and his scientific training told him there shouldn’t really be anything untoward.
King Stone, looking W (photo by Sir Wilson III)
Stukeley’s 1743 sketch showing the King Stone
Arriving around dawn, Robins took several background readings along some of the lanes a mile or so away and found the usual expected background levels (on a scale of 1-10, the background flickers between 0 and 1). When he eventually walked into the Rollright stone circle with his ultrasound monitor, no undue perturbations were found. He spent thirty minutes here, but at no time did he record anything other than background readings. So he crossed the road and tried the same at the King Stone—where a big surprise awaited him.
Switching on the detector he found an anomalously high reading, beating every minute or so, not unlike a heartbeat, more than five times above the background ultrasound!
“This was really peculiar,” he wrote, “in that the pattern was spread over about a minute and then commenced again after about 10 seconds, endlessly repeated.” Robins spent some time here and found that the strange ‘pulse’ wasn’t solely confined to the King Stone, but spread some distance around the old standing stone and onto the road itself.
Investigation of potential radiation anomalies was another avenue of enquiry explored by the Dragon Project, and although thousands of hours of monitoring were done at the three focal sites, there were few anomalies to write home about. Two however, were recorded in March and August, 1981, when radiation levels were twice the normal background rate for short periods of just a few minutes each. More puzzling was the finding—which can still be verified today—of radiation levels three and four times above background on the road between the circle and the King Stone.
Next on the list was an attempt to monitor the Rollright stones with infrared devices. This proved to be a potential goldmine, as there was the chance of photographic imagery. So early one morning in April, 1979, Paul Devereux readied himself at the King Stone. He took a number of photos at five minute intervals either side of sunrise. This time of day was chosen because of the repeated anomalous ultrasound emissions from the King and it was thought that this, if any, would be the best time to capture something on film.
“When the first roll of black-and-white IR film was professionally developed,” he wrote, “I was astonished to see a curious ‘glow’ effect around the King stone on the frame taken at sunrise.” His first account of it appeared in The Ley Hunter, where he described how “a hazy glow can be seen clinging to the sides and upper parts of the megalith. This glow becomes much stronger at the top of the stone where it looks like a cap of light.” Although the sun had risen, it was off to the left of picture and apparently no satisfactory explanation can be given to the effect on the plate. Research physicist Simon Hasler—who worked for Kodak—closely studied the negatives of this image and found the evidence for a simple explanation “weak.” A possible explanation of the mysterious glow was propounded by Don Robins, who suggested that an emission of microwaves from the stone may have been responsible, and although this sounds promising it has yet to be proven.
Folklore
(photo by Sir Wilson III)
Amidst the mass of modern lore, dowsed energy lines exceed here — although to be honest, most of them are little more than bullshit. Old school alignments in the form of leys that can be walked along are more credible, and one or two have been noted here. Dowser Laurence Main found a ley running between Broughton Church, “the old White Cross, the Victorian Cross and the old Bread Cross in Banbury. In the other direction the line led straight to the King Stone.” Although this line accurately links up these sites, other ‘ley points’ are utterly necessary between Broughton Church and the King Stone to give the alignment any real credibility. In a concise survey of the megalithic remains of this region made by Tom Wilson and myself, no other ley-points were found along the line.
In more traditional animist-based folklore, the creation myth here is well known. The famous, oft-repeated tale recites how a King and his men were marching across the land intent on conquering it when he came across an old hag, or witch near Rollright who offered the regal figure a magickal challenge. Some accounts name the witch as Mother Shipton—not the famous Yorkshire seer of the same name, but her less powerful (obviously!) southern counterpart. The old witch said to the King:
“Seven long strides thou shalt take, and
If Long Compton thou can’st see,
King of England thou shalt be.”
His majesty took this as a simple task and, with contempt, said to the old witch:
“Stick, stock, stone,
As King of England I shall be known.”
From where he was standing (which is never told, but presumed by most as the stone circle) the King then took seven long strides in the direction of Long Compton. As he was taking his seventh step the witch made the ground in front of him rise up, hence blocking his view of the village in the valley below. The old hag then said:
“As Long Compton thou canst not see,
King of England thou shalt not be.
Rise up, stick, and stand still, stone,
For King of England thou shalt be none;
Thou and thy men hoar stones shall be
And I myself an eldern tree.”
Thereupon, the King’s men who were waiting behind their master, the five knights in the field who were said to be conspiring against his majesty, and the King himself, were all turned into stone where they stood. The elder tree that the old witch turned herself into, was said to have grown along the old boundary close to the roadside, but this can no longer be verified. The folklorist Arthur Evans described several spots where the famed elder tree was said to have grown: one in the field close to the Whispering Knights, and another in the same field as the King Stone, close by another large stone that has long since gone.
When William Stukeley visited the area in the 18th century and heard about the legendary origin of these great monoliths, he told how “the country people for some miles round are very fond of, and take it very ill if anyone doubts it,” telling later, “The people who live at Chipping Norton and all the country round our first described temple of Rowldrich affirm most constantly, and as surely believe it, that the stones composing this work are a king, his nobles, and Commons turned into stones.
Another piece of animistic lore tells how the King Stone and the Whispering Knights venture, at midnight, less than half a mile south to drink from a spring in the small woodland at Little Rollright Spinney—although it is difficult to ascertain precisely which of the two springs the stones are supposed to visit. In some accounts, the stones reputedly drink from the well every night, but others tell that they only go there at certain times of the year, or on saint’s days. When Arthur Evans wrote of these tales he described there being a “gap in the bushes… through which they go down to the water,” but the terrain has altered since his day.
A variation of the same tale was told by T.H. Ravenhill, who wrote:
The old King c.1945
King Stone, c.1920
“The Lord of the Manor of Little Rollright desired to possess the King’s Stone in order to bridge Little Rollright brook. So he dug it up and tried to cart it away, but found that he had not enough horses. He hitched on more, and yet more, and still he found that he could not move the stone. Finally he succeeded and hauled the stone away to the Manor House. The same night he was alarmed by strange sounds about the house, which he attributed to the presence of the King’s Stone, and decided, therefore, to replace it on its mound. No sooner had he harnessed the first horse to the cart than it galloped away up hill with ease, taking with it the stone, which leapt to position on reaching its resting place.”
Evans also wrote about an eighty-year-old local woman who told that her mother visited the King Stone on Midsummer’s Eve, along with many other locals, when the elder was in full bloom and they would stand in a full circle around the tall monolith. Ritual of a sort was performed then the elder tree was cut and, as it bled, “the King moved his head.” This annual rite was said to partially disempower the witch of her magickal hold over the King when her blood trickled from the tree. Some locals believed that if but a pin-prick of the witch’s blood was drawn, she would lose her power for all eternity.
Beneath both the Rollright stone circle and the King Stone, legend reputes there to be such a cavern where the little people live. In some accounts they are said to dance around the old King.
Arthur Evans told how one local man, Will Hughes, actually saw the faerie dancing round the King.
“They were little folk like girls to look at,” he said.
Old postcard, c.1910
Sketch from 1904
Will’s widow, Betsy Hughes, told Evans that “when she was a girl and used to work in the hedgerows, she remembered a hole in the bank by the King Stone, from which it is said the fairies came out to dance at night. Many a time she and her playmates had placed a flat stone over the hole of an evening to keep the fairies in, but they always found it turned over next morning.” This curious entrance was a neolithic burial mound. Mark Turner described how the little people were “supposed to come out and dance around the stones by moonlight.”
As we have already seen, people used to take chippings off some of the old stones here—primarily the King—supposedly for luck, protection and good fortune. Local people used to blame Welsh workers more than anyone, but they wouldn’t be the only ones! Although those who took such chippings believed the pieces brought them luck, more often than not it was the opposite that happened. One local woman told Evans about her son who went to India as a soldier in the 19th century with a piece of the King Stone in his possession, but it did him no good whatsoever. He died of typhus! The Oxford archaeologist George Lambrick (1988) highlights in his book on the Rollright stones the extent of damage that has been done to the King Stone since 1607.
References:
Anonymous, The Rollright Stones: Theories and Legends, privately printed, n.d.
Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
Bloxham, Christine, Folklore of Oxfordshire, Tempus 2005.
Cowper, B.H., ‘Oxfordshire Legend in Stone,’ Notes & Queries (1st series), 7, January 15, 1853.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Is This the Image of the Earth Force?’ in The Ley Hunter 87, 1979.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Operation Merlin,’ in The Ley Hunter 88, 1980.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Operation Merlin 2,’ in The Ley Hunter 89, 1980.
Devereux, Paul, ‘The Third Merlin,’ in The Ley Hunter 92, 1981.
Devereux, Paul, Places of Power, Blandford: London 1990.
Devereux, Paul, The Sacred Place, Cassell: London 2000.
Evans, Arthur J., ‘The Rollright Stones,’ in Trans. Bristol & Glouc. Arch. Soc., 40, 1892.
Evans, Arthur J., ‘The Rollright Stones and their Folklore (3 parts),’ in Folklore Journal, 1895.
Lambrick, George, The Rollright Stones: The Archaeology and Folklore of the Stones and their Surroundings, Oxford Archaeology Review 1983. (Reprinted and updated in 1988.)
Michell, John, Megalithomania, Thames & Hudson: London 1982.
Pennick, Nigel & Devereux, Paul, Lines on the Landscape, Hale: London 1989.
Ravenhill, T.H., The Rollright Stones and the Men Who Erected Them, Little Rollright 1926.
You can walk up from Menston, up Moor Lane north-west towards the moor, then turning left when you hit the moorland road of Hillings Lane. Nearly 350 yards along, turn right up the track known as Occupation lane onto the moor. More than half-a-mile up, past the gate at the Bee Stone, where the track splits, keep to the left and head further uphill, roughly parallel with the fence on your left. Literally ¼-mile (0.4 km) up from the split, you’re looking almost straight down at the reservoir; but to your left, walk towards the fence. Zigzag about! You can also approach it from the Grubstones and Great Skirtful area, by following the Occupation Lane track eastwards down the slope until you’re roughly level with the same reservoir.
Archaeology & History
On this somewhat isolated stone on the northern sloping edge of Craven Hall Hill we find a small cluster of shallow cup-marks, first noted in the 1980s and eventually mentioned in a survey by Boughey & Vickerman (2003) where they described it as a,
“Low, medium striated rock lying in slope of hill. SE end carries possibly up to eleven cups, possibly two sets grouped in arcs running into natural striations of rock, one of which may have been artificially enhanced by pecking.”
Shallow cup-marks
The view from here is quite something: gazing east to the heathen hilltop of Otley Chevin (Beltane rites and rock art — albeit not much), north-east to the far uplands of the White Horse of Kilburn, then across the northern panoramas of Askwith and Denton Moors, and beyond. Some archaeologists have started to believe that such vistas may have had relevance with such carvings, sometimes. They’ve caught up at last! 🙂 Anyhow, the carving itself is pretty simplistic and probably only of interest to the real petroglyph nuts amongst you – although it’s mebbe worth checking out if you’re visiting the Great Skirtful giant cairn and its very impressive hengi-form neighbour.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding – Supplement, YAS 2018.
Acknowledgements: With thanks to Tom Cleland for help in relocating the site on a recent visit.
Numerous ways to get here: probably the easiest (direction wise) is if you’re coming from Dick Hudson’s public house on the southern road surrounding Rombalds Moor. From the pub, head left (east) along Otley Road (passing Weecher reservoir) for 1.9 miles (3.1km) until you reach Reva reservoir where a track leads you to the waters. A small parking spot is on the left-side of the road. From here, go through the gate and along the footpath across the field for nearly 300 yards to the next gate. Go through here and immediately follow the walling down to your left for about 135 yards to the edge of the rushes. It’s there!
Archaeology & History
Single cupmark nr the top
On a recent visit to the Fraggle Rock carving, Tom Cleland foraged about at the edge of what was, in centuries gone by, a good flowing stream below the west slope of Reva Hill. An old pathway cut across one section of it near where the walling now runs, covered these days in the mass of Juncus reeds, typical of mashy grounds. And here, just where folk would cross the waters, Tom found a good sized stone with a single deep cup-mark on its crown, calling through a feast of lichens to be seen once more. There may be a second cup-mark by its side, but the light wasn’t good when we were here, so that’ll be worked out some other day. Anyhow, this one’s probably only for the crazy petroglyph hunters out there. It’s the Fraggle Rock and its companios that you’re gonna be looking for, nearby….
Your best starting point is from the Great Skirtful of Stones giant cairn. From here follow the fencing that runs down the slope to your left (south-east) for roughly 160 yards (148m) – past the Great Skirtful Ring – until you reach the gate. Go through it and keep walking down the same fence-line for 300 yards then walk south onto the moorland proper (there are no paths here). You’ll pass over several undulations in the heather (some of these are the edges of ancient trackways) and 55-60 yards south from the fencing you’ll walk over and into this overgrown prehistoric ring. It’s very difficult to see when the vegetation is deep, so persevere!
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1851 map
This is an interesting site. Marked on the 1851 Ordnance Survey map as a “barrow” (right), it is shown with trackways on either side of it to the north and south, and with an opening or entrance on its northwestern side. Yet since that date, very little archaeological attention has been given to it and the site remains unexcavated, despite its location being repeated on all subsequent maps since then. The designation of the site as a barrow or burial site, without being excavated, was educated guesswork at the time as the place seems to be what we today define as a ring cairn. And whilst this seems likely, there are some oddities here.
Measuring roughly 25 yards (SE – NW) by 21 yards (NE – SW), this overgrown oval ‘ring’ is a similar architectural structure to the more famous Roms Law circle more than half-a-mile northwest of here—but bigger! And, unlilke Roms Law, this overgrown circle seems to have been untouched for many centuries. The oval surrounding ‘ring’ itself is composed of thousands of small packing stones between, seemingly, a number of much larger upright stones, reaching a maximum height of more than three feet high at the northernmost edge. The ‘ring’ ostensibly looks like a wide surrounding wall which measures two yards across all round the structure.
Track running into the ring
Raised line into the ring
Internally, there seems little evidence of a burial — although our recent visits here, as the photos indicate, took place when the moorland vegetation was deep and covered almost the entire site. The outline of the site is obviously visible, even in deep heather, but the smaller details remain hidden. But in addition to the main ring, another very distinct ingredient here is the existence of an extended length of man-made parallel walling, probably a trackway, that runs into the circle from the southeast all the way through the circle and out the other side and then continuing northwest heading roughly towards the Great Skirtful giant cairn on the horizon 500 yards to the northwest.
Stone at NE arc of walling
Due to the landscape being so overgrown, it’s difficult to ascertain where this ‘trackway’ begins and ends. Added to this, we find that there are additional ‘trackways’ that run roughly parallel to the one that runs through the circle—and these ‘trackways’ are very old indeed, some of them likely have their origins way back in prehistory. The one that runs through the middle of this ring cairn may be a ceremonial pathway along which, perhaps, our ancestors carried their dead. If we follow it out from here and keep walking along the track 300 yards to the southeast, we eventually run right to the edge of the Craven Hall (3) circle. Parallel to this is another ancient trackway that runs northwest to the edge of the Roms Law circle. It seems very much as if we have ceremonial trackways linking sites to each other: ancestral pathways, so to speak.
Have a gander at this when you’re next in the area. There are many other sites nearby that are off the archaeological radar. In recent years, a number of northern antiquarians wandering over this landscape are finding more and more ancient remains: walling, circles, cairns, trackways. It’s a superb arena—but sadly, most of it is hidden beneath deep moorland vegetation.
References:
Faull, M.L. & Moorhouse, S.A. (eds.), West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Guide to AD 1500– volume 1, WYMCC: Wakefield 1981.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
