St. Michael’s Well, Well, North Yorkshire

Holy Well:  OS Grid Reference – SE 2633 8176

Also Known as:

  1. Mickel Well
  2. Mickey Well

Getting Here

Found near the bottom of Holly Hill, as Graeme Chappell tells us, this old site “is located by the side of a narrow lane on the west side of the village of Well (aptly named). The OS map places the well on the north side of the lane, but this is only the outflow from a pipe that carries the water under the road.  The spring actually rises at the foot of a small rock outcrop, on the opposite side of the road.”

Archaeology & History

St. Michael's Well, Well (Bogg 1895)
St. Michael’s Well, Well (Bogg 1895)

Although the village of Well is mentioned in Domesday in 1086 and the origin of the place-name derives from “certain springs in the township now known as The Springs, St. Michael’s Well and Whitwell,” very little appears to have been written about this place.  Edmund Bogg (c.1895) wrote that an old iron cup — still there in the 19th century — was attached next to this spring for weary travellers or locals to partake of the fine fresh water.  Nearby there was once an old Roman bath-house and, at the local church, one writer thinks that the appearance of “a fish-bodied female figure…carved into one of the external window lintels” is representative of the goddess of these waters.  Not so sure misself — but I’m willing to be shown otherwise.

Folklore

Around 1895, that old traveller Edmund Bogg once again wrote how the villagers at Well village called this site the Mickey or Mickel Well,* explaining: “the Saxons dwelling at this spot reverently dedicated this spring of water to St. Michael.” A dragon-slayer no less!

Although not realising the Michael/dragon connection, the same writer later goes on to write:

“There is a dim tradition still existing in this village of an enormous dragon having once had its lair in the vicinity of Well, and was a source of terror to the inhabitants, until a champion was found in an ancestor of the Latimers, who went boldly forth like a true knight of olden times, and after a long and terrible fight he slew the monster, hence a dragon on the coat of arms of this family. The scene of the conflict is still pointed out, and is midway between Tanfield and Well.”

This fable occurred very close to the gigantic Thornborough Henges!  It would be sensible to look more closely at the mythic nature of this complex with this legend in mind.  A few miles away in the village of Kirklington, the cult of St. Michael could also be found.

References:

  1. Bogg, Edmund, From Eden Vale to the Plains of York, James Miles: Leeds n.d. (c.1895)
  2. Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the North Riding of Yorkshire, Cambridge University Press 1928.

* In old english the word ‘micel‘ (which usually accounts for this word) means big or great. On the same issue, the ‘Holly Hill’ in the case here at Well actually derives from the holly tree and NOT a ‘holy’ well. However, check the folklore of this tree in Britain and you find a whole host of heathen stuff.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Elm Crag Well, Bingley, West Yorkshire

Healing Well:  OS Grid Reference – SE 1028 3907

Getting Here

From Bingley, take the B6429 road up to Harden.  After going up the wooded winding road for a few hundred yards, stop where it levels out.  Cross onto the right-hand side of the road and walk up the slope a little, veering to your right.  You’ll notice a small disused building just off the roadside, in overgrowth, with a pool of water.  You need to be about 100 yards up the slope above it!

Archaeology & History

Elm Crag Well, Bell Bank Wood, Bingley
Elm Crag Well, Bell Bank Wood, Bingley

This is a beautiful old place.  If you walk straight up to it from the roadside, past the derelict building, you have to struggle through the brambles and prickly slope like we did – but it’s worth it if you like your wells!  However, if you try getting here in the summertime, expect to be attacked on all sides by the indigenous flora!  The waters here emerge from a low dark cave, in which, a century of three ago, someone placed a large stone trough.  When I first came here about 25 years ago, some halfwits had built an ugly red-brick wall into the cave which, thankfully, someone has had the sense to destroy and rip-out.

Shown on the 1852 Ordnance Survey map and highlighted as a ‘spring,’ Harry Speight (1898) gives a brief mention to this site, though refers us to an even earlier literary source when it was first mentioned. In John Richardson’s 18th century survey of the Craven area, he makes reference to an exceedingly rare fern, Trichomanes radicans, which was later included in Bolton’s classic monograph on British ferns of 1785.  In it, Bolton wrote that the very first specimen of this plant was “first discovered by Dr. Richardson in a little dark cavern, under a dripping rock, below the spring of Elm Crag Well, in Bell Bank.”

Elm Crag Well
Elm Crag Well

The waters from here come from two sides inside the small cave and no longer run into the lichen-encrusted trough, seemingly just dropping down to Earth and re-emerging halfway down the hillside.  But the waters here taste absolutely gorgeous and are very refreshing indeed!  And the old elms which gave this old well its name can still be seen, only just hanging on to the rocks above and to the side, with not much time left for the dear things.

References:

  1. Bolton, James, Filices Britannicae: An History of the British Proper Ferns, Thomas Wright 1785.
  2. Speight, Harry, Chronicles and Stories of Old Bingley, Elliott Stock: London 1898.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Little Skirtful of Stones, Burley Moor, West Yorkshire

Cairn:  OS Grid Reference – SE 13829 45186

Also Known as:

  1. Little Apronful of Stones

Getting Here

Little Skirtful of Stones, looking north
Little Skirtful of Stones, looking north

Probably the easiest way to get here is by starting on the Moor Road above Burley Woodhead, where the road crosses the Rushy Beck stream.  Looking upstream, follow the footpath up the right-hand side of the waters, nearly all the way to the top.  Where it crosses a footpath near where the moor begins to level out, look up to your right and you’ll see the raised crown of stones a coupla hundred yards off path, NNW.  That’s it!

Archaeology & History

This very large Bronze Age cairn was reported by Faull & Moorhouse (1981) to have been surrounded by a multiple stone circle, citing it to have been shown as such on an estate map of Hawksworth Common in 1734. When I contacted the Yorkshire Archaeology Society to enquire about this map, it could not be located. (This needs to be found!) No evidence of such a stone circle presently remains, though there were at least two standing stones once to be seen at the edge of this tomb, though only one of them — now laid more than five-feet long in the heather — is still evident on the western side of this giant tomb.  But anyone who might know anything about the 1734 Estate Map – pleeeeez gerrit copied or take a photo of it! Then stick it on TNA so everyone can see whether the circle surrounded this, or the Great Skirtful of Stones, 500 yards to the south.

Single cup-marked stone on outer edge of Little Skirtful

The Little Skirtful is in better condition than its big brother on the hill to the south and — unlike the Great Skirtful — there are said to be at least five cup-marked stones amidst the great mass or rocks constituting this site.  There could be more.  The carvings are just single cup-markings etched onto small portable stones, typical of sites like this.  They are found near the centre above a small cist and outwardly towards the northern edges of the cairn (for more info about them, see the main entry for the Little Skirtful Carvings).

It’s been said by Stan Beckensall (1999, 2002) that no cup-marked rocks “are known near…the really large cairns” on the moor—meaning the Little Skirtful and her allies—but this isn’t true as there are at least 4 definite carvings (a possible fifth seems likely) on the moorland immediately around the Little Skirtful.  Though to give Beckensall his due, if he got his data from the Ilkley archaeologists, his information isn’t gonna be too accurate, as they’re quite unaware of many sites on these moors!  A good number of local people have a much greater knowledge-base on such matters than those in paid offices, as this and other websites clearly shows.  The times they are a-changin’, as one dood said, not so long ago…!

Folklore

Paul Bowers & Mikki on top for scale!

The creation myth of this place tells that the giant Rombald (who gives his name to the moor) was in trouble with his wife and when he stepped over to Almscliffe Crags from here, his giant wife – who is never named – dropped a small bundle of stones she was carrying in her apron. (In traditional societies elsewhere in the world where this motif is also found, it tends to relate to the site being created by women.) Harry Speight (1900) tells us of a variation of the tale,

“which tradition says was let fall by the aforementioned giant Rumbalds, while hastening to build a bridge over the Wharfe.”

Variations on this story have said it was the devil who made the site, but this is a denigrated christian variant on the earlier, and probably healthier, creation tale. Similar tales are told of the Great Skirtful of Stones, 500 yards south.

References:

  1. Beckensall, Stan, British Prehistoric Rock Art, Tempus: Stroud 1999.
  2. Beckensall, Stan, “British Prehistoric Rock Art in the Landscape,” in G. Nash & C. Chippindale’s European Landscapes of Rock Art, Routledge: London 2002.
  3. Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
  4. Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAA 2003.
  5. Collyer, Robert & Turner, J. Horsfall, Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
  6. Colls, J.N.M., ‘Letter upon some Early Remains Discovered in Yorkshire,’ in Archaeologia 31, 1846.
  7. Cowling, E.T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
  8. Faull & Moorhouse, West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey – volume 3, WYMCC: Wakefield 1981.
  9. Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
  10. Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
  11. Wood, Butler, ‘Prehistoric Antiquities of the Bradford District,’ in Bradford Antiquary, volume 2, 1901.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Fairy Loch, Arrochar, Argyll

Sacred Loch:  OS Grid Reference – NS 3384 9937

Also Known as:

  1. Lochan Uiane

Getting Here

Fairy Loch on 1865 map

To get here, go down the A82 about four-and-a-half miles south of Tarbet (along the Loch Lomond road). Near a burn coming down the hill is an old house, long in ruin, and near the side of this is an old path – more for deer than city-folk. Go up through the wooded hillside for about a half-mile (amble the trek and make it a nice hour’s walk to get into the place). I’d take the stream itself, as you get more into the nature of the place once you get up the slope: there’s more to see, feel and a healthy water supply en route.

Folklore

This is more of a ‘holy loch’ than a holy well — for obvious reasons.  Although it’s not much bigger than a large pond, it is little-known, but has long had the tradition of being an abode of the sith, or faerie-folk. There is, of course, a tendency to find prehistoric remains where the sith have their repute, but there seems little on official records nearby.

Tradition tells that the loch was actually formed in ancient times by locals damming the burn for water supply. Another tells the same in order that a mill could be fed with constant water – though no mill can be found. If this latter tradition is true however, the fairy creature here could have been a brownie – though they are generally more a lowland elemental. One of the reasons the place has been named after the little people is that when certain light falls on it, at the right time of day and year, green triangular shapes emerge from the water formed by deposits hidden beneath the surface (hence the original Gaelic name, Lochan Uaine, or the Green Loch).

Local historian Norman Douglas echoed the folktale described many years earlier by the great John Gregorson Campbell (1900), telling that,

“another story is that the local people would deposit their sheeps’ fleeces in the Fairy Loch overnight, wish for them to be dyed a certain colour, and overnight the fairies would carry out their wish.”

References:

  1. Campbell, John G., Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, James MacLehose: Glasgow 1900.
  2. Douglas, Norman, Arrochar, Reiver Press: Galashiels n.d. (c.1971)

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Lidstone, Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire

Standing Stones:  OS Grid Reference – SP 35487 24627

Also Known as:

  1. King Lud’s Stone
  2. Leodwine’s stone

Getting Here

Just get to the top of the hill thru the village and where the sharp bend turns, you’ll find one of the monoliths up against the wall above the roadside (hard to find in the undergrowth sometimes!).  The other stone is on the eastern side of the road through Lidstone from the A44, halfway into the village itself.

Archaeology & History

Lidstone monolith
Lidstone monolith

There are two small stones to be found in the lovely little hamlet of Lidstone.  The main one—Leodwin’s Stone—is at coordinate SP 35517 24656; and the smaller stone further up the hill is at SP 35487 24627.  First described in a treatise from 1235 AD as Lidenstan, the great place-name writer Ekwall (1940) thought this derived from ‘Leodwine’s Stone.” A few years later Gelling (1954) told us that “there is a monolith at Lidstone”, which she thought gave rise to the place-name, and not some chap named Leodwine.  Whichever it may be, we certainly have two small upright stones here — both worth having a look at if such things take your interest. (Tom Wilson and I included them in our short survey of the standing stones of the region in 1999) Further up at the top of the hill from here are the remains of an old tumulus.

Folklore

Said by Caroline Pumphrey (1990) to be the resting place of old King Lud, one of England’s last great pagan kings; another local writer Elsie Corbett (1962) also told a tale well-known to folklore students about this little monolith.  She related how a local man they knew as Mr Hitchcock told them,

“that they used to kid the boys there by telling them that when the stone hears the clock strike twelve it goes down to the stream to drink, and that it was just a ‘catch’ because there was no striking clock in the first place; but it is a ‘catch’ tacked onto some tale that must have been told in the hamlet long ages before there were clocks at all.”

The said stream is a short distance due north of here, down the little valley.  The tale may come from it once acting as a shadow-marker, highlighting midday when the sun was high in the sky due south.  Makes sense of the folktale anyway!

References:

  1. Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
  2. Corbett, Elsie, A History of Spelsbury, Cheney & Sons: Banbury 1962.
  3. Ekwall, Eilert, Oxford Dictionary of Place-Names, OUP: Oxford 1940.
  4. Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire – volume 2, Cambridge University Press 1954.
  5. Pumphrey, Caroline, Charlbury of our Childhood, Sessions Books: York 1990.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian 


Robin Hood’s Well, Stanbury Moor, West Yorkshire

Sacred Well:  OS Grid Reference – SD 9795 3629

Robin Hoods Well on 1851 map

Getting Here

Follow the same directions to get to the nearby Ponden Kirk and, once on top of the rocks, overlooking the valley, walk on the footpath to your right.  It bends round and follows the stream up onto the moors.  About 100 yards along, walk up the heathery slope to the right and you’ll find several boggy watering holes on the top of the ridge.  In looking at the first OS-map of the area in 1853, it seems that the northernmost of six boggy springs is the Robin Hood’s Well – although we don’t know this for certain.  It’s one of them though!

Archaeology & History

Robin Hood’s Spring, above Ponden Kirk

There’s little to see here really: it’s little more than a small boggy spring of water emerging from the edge of the ridge, as the photo shows.  Curiously, descriptions of the site (and its neighbouring compatriots, Will Scarlett’s Well and Little John’s Well) are sparse aswell.  It was noted by the Ordnance Survey lads in 1848 and subsequently posted on the first OS-map of the area in 1851.  Both Horsfall Turner (1879) and Johnnie Gray (1891) mention the site passing, saying nothing of the place. However, several years after Gray’s work, Halliwell Sutcliffe (1899) ventured here and gave us the first real description of the place, telling:

“Half-hidden underground, and fringed with fern and bog-weed, lie the three wells which go by the names of Robin Hood, Little John and Will Scarlett.  One may stop to ask how they came by their birth-names, to wonder why a man should have troubled to fashion them in this out-of-the-way spot; but neither speculation nor questioning of the moor folk brings one nearer to an answer.”

Folklore

Halliwell Sutcliffe's scruffy quick sketch, circa 1898
Halliwell Sutcliffe’s scruffy quick sketch, circa 1898

Apart from this site being a spot where the legendary outlaw stopped and drank in ages past, the healing attributes of these waters have long since been forgotten.  Considering the proximity of the Ponden Kirk and its legendary association with fertility and marriage rites, I’d guess that such lore wold have centred around Beltane, or Mayday; and Robin Hood is very well known in folklore to have close associations with the same period.  So — and I’m guessing here — it’s likely that whatever might have occurred at this well, would have taken place around Beltane aswell.

References:

  1. Gray, Johnnie, Through Airedale from Goole to Malham, Walker & Laycock: Leeds 1891.
  2. Sutcliffe, Halliwell, By Moor and Fell in West Yorkshire, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1899.
  3. Turner, J. Horsfall, Haworth, Past and Present, Hendon Mill: Nelson 1879.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


St. Helen’s Wells, Whittle-le-Woods, Lancashire

Holy Wells:  OS Grid Reference – SD 5856 2242

Getting Here

St Helen's Well on 1848 map
St Helen’s Well on 1848 map

Destroyed when the M6 motorway was built – but if you’re a really fanatic and wanna see the setting, simply get to the bridge that crosses the M61 north of the town, leading to Birchin Lane and Denham Lane. (To be honest though, if I lived nearby, I’d have to make 100% certain, and have a look in the trees between the west-side of the M6 and the trees at the end of the Wells Close Fold cul-de-sac, just in case its waters are there. If you find anything, let us know!)

Archaeology & History

St. Helen's Well (after Taylor 1906)
St Helen’s Well (Taylor 1906)

Highlighted on the very first OS-map of the region in 1848, this was one of many examples of a site dedicated to an important pre-christian deity which was eventually morphed into the character of Saint Helen.   Several sites nearby were all named after the saint, including the quarries, a cottage, house and the wells themselves.

When Henry Taylor (1906) came here, he wrote the following about this once important site:

“This celebrated well is situated in a wild, rugged and hilly part of the hundred, in the south of the parish of Brindle… The water, brilliantly clear and sparkling, bubbles up through white sand at the bottom of a stone-lined pit, about seven feet square and four feet deep.  On the southerly side of this pit, a few feet from it, is another similar stone-lined pit of about the same size.  An old inhabitant tells me that formerly both pits — now nearly empty — were filled to the brim; and this was clearly the case, as an open stone channel is in situ, provided to carry the overflow water from the southernmost pit, the water dropping from it down into the valley.  These structures are clearly of considerable antiquity, but the stones are somewhat displaced through neglect.  The water now comes underground, through a pipe, into a farmyard about one hundred yards south of the well in a splendid crystal stream.  Drinking water appears to be scarce in this district, for we met carts full of barrels which were apparently being taken to the neighbouring villages for sale from this spring.”

Folklore

Local folk visited here and dropped crooked pins into the well in the hope of wishes and future blessings one report saying such practices were done by local catholics!

References:

  1. Taylor, Henry, The Ancient Crosses and Holy Wells of Lancashire, Sherratt & Hughes: Manchester 1906.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Fair Haia, Carlton, North Yorkshire

Legendary Tree (destroyed?):  OS Grid Reference – SE 614 270

Getting Here

From Carlton, take the western Hirst Road to Temple Hirst village, then turn right once you’re in the village and go up Common Lane up for about a mile.  There’s a footpath on your left leading you to the Fair Oaks farmhouse. This was the spot!

Archaeology & History

This is fascinating sounding place which marked the central point of three old township boundaries nearly 1000 years ago.   I first found it mentioned in Morrell’s History and Antiquities of Selby (1867: 36-7), where this once famous tree is described in land sale transactions.  Morrell told:

“At Carlton the (Selby) abbey had considerable property, which was sold to the neighbouring priory of Drax.  The boundary of the property sold was a certain oak tree, called Fair-haia, in Burn Wood, which Adam de Bellaqua gave for this purpose, binding himself and his heirs never to cut it down or root it up, sub poena anathematis.”

But we found a more detailed outline in Dugdale’s Selby Abbey in Yorkshire, where the premises and townships given to Selby Abbey in the 12th and 13th centuries are listed.  In the township of ‘Carleton’ (as it was then spelt) Dugdale wrote:

“Peter de Brus gave the grange here, which the monks had held of Agnes, late wife of Ranulph FitzSwain.  Richard abbat of Selby granted to Robert prior of Drax all the tithe from the north part of the oak called Fair-haia, in the wood of Birne, or Berlay, through the middle of the marsh to Hundolfsweith; and from thence by the strait ditch directly to Espholm, and all the tithe from Espholme to Appletreholme, as the ditch goes to the new fosse or ditch of Carleton: and the prior granted to the abbat all the tithes on the south to the new ditch, and from thence to the river Ayre.  And Adam de Bellaqua gave this oak tree, called Fair-haia, as a boundary, never to be cut down (ad standum in perpetuum et non rescindendum), binding himself and his successors never to cut it down or root it up.”

One wonders: are there any remains left of this once great tree?  Has anyone actually transgressed and uprooted it in times past?  Is any other lore known of it?  And who was Adam de Bellaqua?

One of the most intriguing elements to this site is its name, for the word ‘haia’ literally means ‘god of the land’ — but whether we can take this meaning seriously is questionable, as it’s of Sumerian origin.  However, no local dialect words throw any light on the word and it may aswell be the name of the spirit of the tree as anything else.  Does anyone know owt more about this place?

References:

  1. Dugdale, William, Monasticon Anglicanum – volume 3, Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Brown: London 1817.
  2. Morrell, W.W., The History and Antiquities of Selby, W.B. Bellerby: Selby 1867.
  3. Philpot, J.H., The Sacred Tree, MacMillan: London 1897.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Market Cross, Keighley, West Yorkshire

Cross: OS Grid Reference – SE 06042 41002

Getting Here

Dead easy this one!  Go along North Street in Keighley, towards the main church in the middle of town (a St. Andrew’s church, previously St. Pete), by the once-infamous Lord Rodney pub, and the old stone edifice stands outside by the Green.  The much better Red Pig public house is across the road from here.

Archaeology & History

Keighley's Town Cross, 1847 - illustrated on a painting by Edwin Riby
Keighley’s Town Cross, 1847 – on a painting by Edwin Riby

For a relatively trivial archaeological site, it’s got a bittova history.  Not that this is an old site either!  We’re not sure just when this cross was made, but it’s certainly no more than 300 years old.  Before standing in its present position outside St. Andrew’s Church, sometime before 1840 it was said to have been a few hundred yards away above the present roundabout on Oakworth Road; and one record tells that it originally came from nearby Utley, a mile to the north.  Due to lack of decent records, we’re not sure about its early status as a market cross, nor when it was first erected.  Indeed, even the steps on which the cross presently stands are clearly more recent than the ones illustrated on Edwin Riby’s 1847 portrait, reproduced here.

Keighley Cross, on a grey wet day!
Keighley Cross, on a grey wet day!

It would be good to get a complete history of this archaeological relic but it’s difficult with artifacts such as these; and although gaining access to the church now takes less time and effort than it used to (the vicar here used to be quite unhelpful, but has recently changed his ways – which is good!), it’s only open at certain times of the week.*  Friday afternoons seem OK to have a look round.  Please – if folk begin having trouble gaining access to the Church once more, let us know on here so we can make complaints about it.  The Church is paid for by local tax-payer’s cash, and so needs to be open to all of us.  Let’s hope this humble ingredient can be maintained for the good of all in this otherwise regressive social community (Keighley, that is…).

There’s also some very curious folklore to be added here in relation to the market and its cross, but its tale is gonna have to wait…

References:

  1. Gray, Johnnie, Through Airedale, from Goole to Malham, Elliott Stock: London 1891.
  2. Keighley, William, Keighley, Past and Present, R. Aked: Keighley 1858.

* There isn’t even a notice giving information, email or phone numbers, telling you who you can contact if you want to know anything about the history of the church, or visit it — which is quite dreadful considering how much money they get paid by tax-payers for their supposed socio-spiritual duties.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Doubler Stones, Ilkley Moor, West Yorkshire

Cup-and-Ring Stones:  OS Grid Reference – SE 0723 4652

Also Known as:

  1. Carving Nos. 41 & 42 (Boughey & Vickerman)
  2. Carving Nos. 6 & 7 (Hedges survey)
  3. Doublestones
  4. The Fire Stones

Getting Here

The great Doubler Stones (photo, James Elkington)

Various ways to get here, but the 2 most common are: (1) from Brunthwaite village, above Silsden, following the road uphill for a mile, then turning right (west) onto the moorland dirt-track to Doubler Stones Farm.  Just before here there’s a footpath uphill (north) for 200 yards to the stones.  (2) follow the Millenium Way footpath south up Addingham Moorside, onto Addingham High Moor.  Keep going on the same path another 500 yards and they’ll appear ahead of you.

Archaeology & History

First described as the ‘Doublestones’ in the local Addingham parish records of 1786, these great mushroom-shaped rocks were later brought to the attention of archaeologists by J. Romilly Allen in 1879 and they greatly intrigued numerous Victorian antiquarians, who puzzled as much about their exotic forms as the cup-marks on their tops!  Allen wrote of them:

Cowling’s old drawing
Hedges (1986) sketch of the design

“These rocks are by far the most remarkable freaks of Nature to be seen in the district. They occupy a prominent position, perched on the extremity of a rocky knoll which juts out into the valley; and as seen from below, with their weird forms standing out clear and sharp against the background of blue sky, they present so extraordinary an appearance that they would at once attract the attention of even the most unobservant.  In general outline they resemble gigantic toadstools; and I presume that they are called Doubler Stones from the fact of their shapes being almost identical.  They may be appropriately described as Nature’s Twins.  The upper surface of the cap of one of these stones has three large basin-shaped cavities in it.  Two of these lie along the central axis of the stone, and measure respectively 1ft 3in by 2ft 9in deep, and 1ft 9in by 1ft 3in by 9in deep.  They are united by a deep groove, a continuation of which runs out over the edge of the stone at each end.  There is another basin lying to the west side of the two central ones, with one of which it is connected by grooves.  It measures 2ft by 1ft 9in and is 9in deep.  There is no direct evidence that these basins are artificial; but it is quite possible that they may have been so originally, and have been enlarged by natural agencies.  But in addition to the basins, are twenty-six cup-markings of distinctly artificial origin.  They vary in diameter from 2 to 4 in.  One group of cups appears to be arranged in parallel rows.”

Doubler Stones, c.1890

Although the writer thought there were no artificial cup-markings on the other Doubler Stone (the one on the left in the photo), John Hedges (1986) and Boughey & Vickerman (2003) cite there to be at least two cup-markings on this rock.  Other writers have given different numbers for the respective cup-marks thought to be on these rocks down the years.

If you’re into prehistoric rock-art, check this place out.  If you’re a geologist and aint been here, you’ll be even more impressed!

Folklore

Approaching the Doublers (photo – James Elkington)

In Nicholas Size’s Haunted Moor (1934) he described the Doubler Stones as being the abode of ghosts and a place of sacrificial rites in ancient days. While in Guy Ragland Phillips’ Brigantia, we find that the word ‘doubler’ itself “is a large shallow dish, bowl or plate” – which we find on top of the greater one of these two well-worn-weirdoes.  As well as being haunted, there is some other little-known, though not unexpected folklore here, which told these old stones to be the meeting place of witches in previous centuries.

In addition to this, we are told that the witches of Fewston valley to the west used to meet up with the more famous Pendle witches at these stones.  One historian proclaimed that this notion was spurious, as it would be too far for the Pendle witches to walk – which says more about the historian in question than the people of previous centuries.  The distance from Pendle to the Doublers can be traversed in a day and is an ideal meeting spot, away from the prying eyes of a wrathful Church, that sought war against the animistic practices of our ancestors.

References:

  1. Allen, J. Romilly, ‘The Prehistoric Rock Sculptures of Ilkley,’ in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, volume 35, 1879.
  2. Allen, J. Romilly, ‘Notice of Sculptured Rocks near Ilkley,’ ibid, volume 38, 1882.
  3. Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
  4. Boughey & Vickerman, Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, West Yorkshire Archaeology Service 2003.
  5. Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
  6. Hedges, John, The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
  7. Jennings, Hargrave, Archaic Rock Inscriptions, A. Reader: London 1891.
  8. Phillips, Guy Ragland, Brigantia: A Mysteriography, RKP: London 1976.
  9. Size, Nicholas, The Haunted Moor, William Walker: Otley 1934.

Acknowledgements:  Massive thanks to landscape photographer, James Elkington, for use of his images in this site profile.  Thanks mate! 

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian