Go through the village of Stanbury, past the last of the two reservoirs until you’re on the western edge of Ponden. Stop and look up the slopes to your south. This spot was recently found and photographed by Richard Stroud: a curious-looking mound with all the hallmarks of being a forgotten tumulus. We’ve gotta check it out properly though!
Folklore
Although not in the archaeological records (not too unusual in Yorkshire it seems), the site does have some literary references and some all-too-common folklore motifs. Perusing my library for info about another nearby site (the Cuckoo Stones), I found the following said of this place in a rare book by James Whalley called The Wild Moor (1869, pp.103):
“It appears that some hills, as well as dales…have silvery names. There is a hill which is on the right hand on the way from Ponden House to Crow Hill Moor, which is distinguished by the beautiful designation of ‘Silver Hill.’ The hill is surrounded by a wall (I suppose to guard the treasure) and its surface is adorned with trees. Grey-headed men living on the borders of Crow Hill and Lancashire Moors affirm that during the Scotch rebellion here was deposited a large chest of silver, which was hid in the hill. It would appear as if the chest of silver is still there!”
This tradition was echoed a decade later by J. Horsfall Turner, and then again by Halliwell Sutcliffe in 1899, who reckoned the “vast treasure was said to have been buried during the ’45 rebellion,” adding how “the fields which climb this hill were well tilled aforetime through being constantly turned over in search of the treasure” – but nowt was ever found.
An additional bit of folklore tells of two spirits nearby: one of a man; another of a fiery barrel — either a remnant of earlier solar folk traditions hereby, or perhaps just an earthlight. One of these (the fiery barrel) rolled down the hill nearby; whereby the ghost of the man walked by the hillock along the track from Ponden House a little further east.
References:
Horsfall-Turner, J., Haworth Past and Present, J.S. Jowett: Brighouse 1879.
Sutcliffe, Halliwell, By Moor and Fell in West Yorkshire, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1899.
Stuck in the middle of the moor, at the bottom (southern) side of the Lippersley Ridge promontory. Head towards it from the Askwith Moor Road, along the track past Sourby Farm and onto the end. Then walk along the easy footpath which that takes you below the southern side of the ridge and, about 100 yards before getting to the end of the rise, look around in the heather. You’ll find it.
Archaeology & History
Graeme Chappell’s early photo of the carving
Graeme Chappell rediscovered this seemingly isolated cup-marked stone during one of our many exploratory ambles upon these moors in the early 1990s. The carving is a pretty simple one, consisting of between 10 and 12 cupmarks on the upper surface of a reasonably large elongated stone. No discernible rings or other lines seem to be visible. There are no other cup-and-ring stones close by; but two small prehistoric cairns can be found along the same sloping ridge east and west of here when the heather is low, and the larger Lippersley Pike Cairn stands out on the western end of the ridge 450 yards away. A more detailed exploration of this part of the moor may bring other previously unknown findings to light.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
Follow the same directions to get to the Dumpit Hill A stone circle; but instead when you get to the point where you need to walk off-track and into the heather to get to the circle, keep walking up the dirt-track for about another 200 yards, watching diligently thereby for a reasonable sized, fallen, “standing-stone”-like character just yards into the heather on your right (on your left, there’s a U-shaped dip where the wall is). This is the northern edge of the walled enclosure. From this fallen ‘standing stone’ follow the overgrown walling along carefully into the heather along and down the slight slope. You’re now either on the very edge, or perhaps going into the middle of the enclosure. Look around!
Archaeology & History
East section of walling
There’s no previous written history of this site, discovered for the first time last week on our sojourn to the Dumpit Hill stone circles, by Michala Potts. She didn’t seem too excited by it at the time, but an amble back to what she’d found got me going! (easily done) With the help of the heather being burned away, open and exposed was a distinct line of prehistoric walling — perhaps Bronze Age, perhaps later. It’s hard to tell.
Structurally similar to the enclosure walling at Horse Close and Rough Haw, either side of Skipton, a few miles to the south, here we have about 100 yards of walling seeming to enclose the eastern side of the small hilltop, but running into the heather on its southern edge and the moorland track on its northern side, where it disappears again, leaving no trace of what one would assume would be a consistent western section.
From the grid reference for the site, the line of walling runs northwards for about 20 yards before taking a very slight shift in direction for another 20 yards. Here the walling goes to the left (west) for another 20 yards, before edging slightly northwest and back into the heather. A section of the walling is visible at each end, though we lose any accurate trace of it after a short distance in the long heather. However, at the northwestern point in the enclosure walling, a very distinct long stone about 4 feet high leans at an angle in the ling. It seems apparent that this stone at one point in the not-too-distant past stood upright, making it the tallest stone here.
Northern section of wallingFallen monolith?
What may be other features can be seen inside this enclosure section: a possible hut circle and other portions of walling were noted. However, we didn’t spend much time exploring the site in detail, so there is a high probability of other prehistoric remains in and around this enclosure awaiting discovery. The site’s proximity to the stone circles of Dumpit Hill A and Dumpit Hill B should be noted; along with what the North Yorkshire’s Historic Environment Officer, Robert White, said were “three, possibly four small circular enclosures (about 9m in diameter)” a short distance away. A further survey of the site is necessary to enable us a better picture of what we’re looking at here.
The huge Pendreich Muir monolith, with Dumyat in the background
Nearly 600 yards west of the old Sheriffmuir Road (between Bridge of Allan to Greenloaning), you’re best approaching it up the zigzaggy lane from above Stirling Uni until it levels out beyond the main wooded area where the hills open up on either side of you. There’s a little touristy parking spot further along the road, just below a small wooded bit. Go past this and look out for the small peaked hill nearly a half-mile NW on your left. Take whichever footpath you fancy (if you see one) and get to the top of that hill!
Archaeology & History
This is a wonderful spot, located at the highest point on this small moorland region on the western edge of the Ochil Hills. I haven’t found too much written about this once proud, but now fallen monolith — which seems unusual considering its size, cos it’s huge! It would have stood out and been visible for miles around. Quite when it was felled, I cannot find. The only info I’ve got here (Royal Commission 1963) tells:
“Lying recumbent on a grassy patch among the heather, it is a four-sided pillar measuring 13ft in length, a maximum of 4ft 6in across the wider side, and a maximum of 1ft 6in across the narrower side.”
In enquiring about the nature of this stone a few years ago, a local chap who called himself ‘Wharryburn’ wrote to say, “I believe the laid-out stone is a fallen standing stone. My grandfather was gamekeeper at Airthrey Estate and responsible for the shooting on the moor there he passed it to my father etc… It’s the local volcanic stone, not an ice-dropped erratic. There are also a few biggish stones at points around that I tried to make some sense out of a few years ago, but no luck.”
The great hill of Dumyat rises to its east; a short distance north is a megalithic stone row with its upright Wallace Stone; whilst the overgrown prehistoric cairns of Pendreich 1, 2 and 3 live on the small hillocks a few hundred yards to the south.
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Stirlingshire – volume 1, HMSO: Edinburgh 1963.
This was another example of the many giant cairns that scatter the upland moors on the Pennines, but much of it has been destroyed, with some halfwits in recent years cutting a track right through whatever remains there might have been! It was first described in John Watson’s (1776) essay on the local antiquities of Bradfield and district where, in relative conjunction with the curious Bar Dike, he told that “this is not the only curiosity on this common.” He continued: “there is on one part of it a large carnedde, called by the country people the Apron-full of Stones”, where he conjectured there laid a British tribal chief after he’d been slaughtered by the Romans. This might have been the folklore of the place, but we know such places were thousands of years earlier than the Romans.
It was later described in Joseph Hunter’s Hallamshire (1819) as a giant barrow, or ‘vast carnedde’, even then in the past tense; but some recent investigation here found “a few small stones and some lumpy turf which looked to be covering a few clumped stones.” The site requires further investigation by local people to assess the state of damage inflicted on this once great tomb.
Folklore
Said to have been the site of a local battle in ancient times; this is also another site which, as A.H. Smith (1961) tells, “is explained in folklore by tales of the devil undertaking some major building project and tripping up, only to deposit his apronful of stones” here. Does anyone out there have any more info on this place?
References:
Hunter, Joseph, Hallamshire: The History and Topography of the Parish of Sheffield in the County of York, Lackington: London 1819.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire, Cambridge University Press 1961-63.
Watson, John, “An Account of some Hitherto Undescribed Remains of Antiquity”, in Archaeologia, volume 5, 1776.
Takes a bitta getting to this spot, but it’s worth the effort! Make a day of it and walk up here via the little-known Cuckoo Stones monoliths. From here the walk gets steeper! Follow the footpath from the standing stones, uphill, to the legendary Wuthering Heights building of Bronte-fame a half-mile ahead of you. Then walk immediately up the slope at the side of the derelict house higher onto the moor (there’s no real footpath to follow) until the moorland levels out. From here, look west and walk that way for a few hundred yards where you’ll be seeing a large rock outcrop ahead of you. That’s where you’re heading! (if you reach the triangulation pillar, take the small path from there along the top of the moor towards this large rock outcrop)
Archaeology & History
Alcomden’s Altar Stone
To those of you who like a bitta wilderness, or healthy normal people I suppose, this is a stunning place! Even though there’s little by way of archaeology here — save the usual expectations of a few flints and arrowheads — its geomancy, its position in the landscape, makes it excel as a once important ritual site for our ancestors in not-so-distant centuries. Although local tradition gave these great rocks a prehistoric pedigree, the archaeological record doesn’t say as much — but that doesn’t really mean much up here. We’ve found a singular Bronze Age cairn on the level at Middle Moor Flat 400 yards northwest (not in the record books), some prehistoric walling on the flat east of here (not in the record books), so a lot more attention is needed hereby to see what more may be hiding in this rocky heathland area.
The main feature amidst this extensive scattering of rocks is the large rocking stone, said to weigh six- or seven-tons, resting upon other glacial deposits. The rock itself can be made to rock very slightly. It was described in Lewis’ Topographical Dictionary as a
“cromlech, an evident druidical remain, (which) consists of one flat stone, weight about six tons, placed horizontally upon two huge upright blocks.”
But the placement here was done by Nature and not humans — making it much more important to our ancestors. This was a site for solace, for ritual and to commune with the gods themselves. A few visits to this place show this quite clearly — unless you’re unable to relax that is! It’s a place I wanna spend more time working with, as the mythic history around these stones feels strong, despite their absence from written records.
The ‘altar’ resting on rocksAlcomden’s “altar”
The druidic sentiments espoused by Lewis were all but echoed by our otherwise sober historian, J. Horsfall Turner, in his history of Haworth (1879), where he describes the Alcomden Stones as “the remains of a Druid’s Altar.” On top of the main ‘altar stone’ are what could be ascribed as worn cup-markings, but it seems they’re Nature’s handiwork once again; though this wouldn’t deny them as having some significance to our ancestors. A number of other boulders amidst this mass of rocks also have what seem like cup-markings, but none of them can be said with any certainty to have been carved by people. Indeed, the entirety of this legendary rock outcrop seems to have been created solely by the spirits of Nature.
View of Earth, from Alcomden
It was first described as ‘Alconley’ in 1371, then in the 1379 Poll Tax returns as ‘Halcom’, the etymology of which is difficult. Al- is a cliff or rock, many of which occur here; den is certainly a valley, over which we look to the northeast (to Ponden Kirk, 500 yards away); but the central element of ‘com‘ is the greatest puzzle. Blakeborough (1911) tells of the old Yorkshire word ‘con’ — found in the 1371 spelling — meaning “to scan, or observe critically,” which one can certainly apply here in a topographical sense, i.e., “observation stones above a valley.” It’s simple, succinct, and makes sense!
Folklore
As Elizabeth Southwart (1923) rightly said,
“Our forefathers, instinct and imagination more highly developed than knowledge, peopled their woods with fairies and their valleys with ghosts. On the high, wind-swept spaces they built their altars to Unknown Gods.”
Turner’s 1913 drawing
And such she thought was done at this “heap of rocks called Oakenden Stones.” It seems likely, as this place is superb for ritual magick and meditative systems. But all we have are the repeats of numerous old historians, from Whiteley Turner (1913) and his namesake J. Horsfall, to James Whalley, J.W. Parker and more, who recorded what the old locals said: that is was a place of the druids. There may be a grain of truth in it somewhere…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Blakeborough, Richard, Wit, Character, Folklore and Customs of the North Riding of Yorkshire, W. Rapp: Saltburn 1911.
Parker, J.W., Guide to the Bronte Country, J.W. Parker: Haworth n.d. (c.1971)
Southwart, Elizabeth, Bronte Moors and Villages: From Thornton to Haworth, John Lane Bodley Head: London 1923.
Turner, J. Horsfall, Haworth, Past and Present, Hendon Mill: Nelson 1879.
Turner, Whiteley, A Spring-Time Saunter round and about Bronte Lane, Halifax Courier 1913.
It seems there’s not been a lot of archaeohistory written about this ruined site — nor its companion that was once visible 50 yards to the west. In Richard Feachem’s (1977) gazetteer he described it simply as:
“a turf-covered stony mound some 10ft in height, standing in the middle of an enclosure formed by a ditch with a wall on its inner lip, which is best preserved on the west.”
Folklore
A common aspect of faerie-lore are incidences of apparent time-lapses — beloved in modern times in certain UFO encounters (Vallee 1969; Keel 1970). Such was the case here, in the story described at this ruinous old site by George Sutherland (1937). He wrote:
“Two men carrying a small keg of whiskey for the New Year festivities were passing the church of Bruan. They heard stirring bagpipe music and a few hundred yards further on they came to the Bruan Broch and found it open, and saw a number of the little folk in green dancing merrily to the music. One of the men was eager to join them in the dance and went in. The other man was more cautious and remained outside, and waited patiently until his friend would have his dance. A long weary time passed and his friend was not appearing. He went to the open door of the broch and called to his friend to come out. His friend said, “I have not got a dance yet!” After another long wait he shouldered the keg of whiskey and set out for home, never doubting but that his friend would return home before morning. Next day he called at his friend’s house to see if he had come home, and to his consternation found that he had not. Then he went to the broch in the hope of finding him there, but the broch showed no trace of a door, and no trace or soil or stones having been disturbed since the days of King Brude MacBile, and there was no appearance of man or fairy. It was an old belief that in such a case the same scene would be enacted in the same place in a year after, and accordingly on the anniversary of that day he went to the Bruan Broch. It was open, the music and dancing were going on as before, and his friend was there. He put some iron article in the door to prevent the fairies from closing it… He went to the open door and said to his friend, “Are you not coming home now?” His friend replied, “I have not got a dance yet.” He told his friend that he had been a year in the broch, and that it was surely time for him to come home now, but his friend did not believe that he was more than an hour or so there. The man then made a rush at his friend, seized him, and dragged him out by sheer force, and they set out for home together. It was difficult for him to realise that his sojourn with the fairies was such a prolonged one, but the fact that his own child did not recognise him, together with other changes that had taken place, convinced him.”
References:
Feachem, Richard, Guide to Prehistoric Scotland, Batsford: London 1977.
Keel, John A., UFOs: Operation Trojan Horse, Souvenir Press: London 1970.
Sutherland, George, Folklore Gleanings and Character Sketches from the Far North, John-o-Groats Journal: Wick 1937.
Vallee, Jacques, Passport to Magonia: From Folklore to Flying Saucers, H.Regnery: Chicago 1969.
Along the Brighouse to Mirfield A644 road, a half-mile east of M62’s junction 25 on Wakefield Road, note the woodland on your left-hand side, above the walling. Although on allegedly private land, you can approach by hopping over the wall by the main road into the woods. Wander up the slope until it levels out and, just at the edge of the tree-line, past the brilliant overgrown folly amidst a mass of rhododendrons, you’ll see the denuded edges of this earthwork. Though you might need a bitta patience seeking it out…
Archaeology & History
Very first sketch of this site (John Watson, 1775)
The remains of this low earthwork is found on the private land of Kirklees Hall and appointment is supposed to be made to explore, both this and the more famous Robin Hood’s Grave, a few hundred yards away. But if you can’t be bothered with that and find this little-known earthwork, you’ll see that it’s roughly squared in shape, though pretty overgrown. In Bernard Barnes’ survey (1982) he described it as a “square or five sided enclosure, 2-3 acres in size, with bank and external ditch”, wondering whether it was used to enclosure cattle and stretching its possible origin between the Iron Age to the medieval.
Although the classical Roman archaeologist Ian Richmond (1925) believed the site to be from that period, the archaeologist J.J. Keighley thought that the site was “more likely to be Iron Age than Roman.” He wrote:
“The earthwork in Kirklees Park is a square or five-sided enclosure with bank and external ditch… The site lies on Richmond’s trans-Pennine route. According to Armitage and Montgomerie, the earthwork is 0.5 hectares in area, but it is actually nearer 0.8 to 1.2 hectares. They compare its construction with the fort at Wincobank (South Yorkshire), stating that the bank on the counterscarp when excavated, revealed “a very rudely composed wall of undressed dry stone.”
Earlier local writers such as John Watson (1775) — whose early sketch of the site is reproduced above — and others also opted for the Roman date. But, unless you’re a bit of an earthwork fanatic, this site may not be too much your cuppa tea. If you are gonna check this out though, make sure you check out Robin Hood’s old tomb in the trees not far away. Very odd.
References:
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Merseyside County Council & University of Liverpool 1982.
Keighley, J.J., “The Prehistoric Period,” in West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey to AD 1500 (WYMCC: Wakefield 1981).
Richmond, I.A., Huddersfield in Roman Times, Tolson Memorial Museum: Huddersfield 1925.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of Halifax, J. Lowndes: London 1775.
Cup-and-Ring Stone: OS Grid Reference – NC 635 384
Archaeology & History
This small cup-marked stone came to light following the work of Mr Angus MacKay of Sutherland, more than 100 years ago. In his essay in the Scottish Antiquaries journal (1905), he wrote the following:
Grumbeg carving
“A cup-marked stone was found by me in the burial place of Grumbeg, Strathnaver, September 1905, standing upright at the head of a grave, and showing about 6 inches above the ground. It is evidently a fragment of a larger slab: its extreme length is 20 inches, and it is about 15 inches at its broadest part. The upper three circles are 2.5 inches in diameter and 1.5 inches deep, very symmetrically hollowed out, but the fourth and lower circle is shallow and indistinct. As the stones covering the other graves are for the most part what is called rough mountain slabs, it seems to me that this cup-marked fragment was found in its present condition elsewhere, and placed here to conveniently show a lair.”
If such was the case, a good contender might be the denuded chambered cairn close by.
Prehistoric petroglyphs are rare things indeed in Leicestershire! But the example that was found here — at the now destroyed prehistoric tomb which archaeologists catalogued as ‘Lockington Barrow VI’ in this small graveyard — shows that such ritual art spreads further afield than previously reported by archaeologists. Yet as with countless other cup-marked stones, it should come as no surprise to be found associated with a tumulus. Death and petroglyphs are common bedfellows – even in this part of Britain!
Lockington cup-marking (courtesy Gwilym Hughes)Lockington cup-marked stone
Found on the northern edge of a ring ditch surrounding this once-fine tomb, the carving was found on a small, triangular-shaped, broken piece of rock , less than 12 inches across along its longest side. The small stone has what seems to be eight cup-marks (5 seem certain) pecked onto the stone: simple, without additional ingredients, akin to the basic forms found at Baildon and other more northern climes. The stone itself didn’t seem to be local and was thought by Hughes (2000) “to be from one of the outcrops of millstone grit to the north of the site in southern Derbyshire.”
Less than 7 feet from this petroglyph, inside the barrow, was a pit containing a hoard of ancient gold and copper ware — though any likely relationship between the carving and the treasure hoard is doubtful. The carving was probably a “portable” relic, carried some distance and put here for some reason or other: perhaps as an offering; perhaps a magickal artifact — we’ll probably never know…
