Until we’ve isolated this site, it’s difficult to suggest an age for it. It’s an all-but forgotten grave of some sort, last mentioned by John Clough (1886) in his rare work on Steeton township. Although the folklore indicates some medieval date here, the site may have been a prehistoric tomb, as it was located in the same valley a mile east of another little-known prehistoric burial at Crosshills. Mr Clough wrote the following of the site:
“Until AD 1790 the road to Kildwick would be down Pot Lane and past ‘The Lion’. Near a field, now called Nanny Grave Hill; there were four land ends; there are three lane ends yet; there was what i’s called Devil’s Lane, the lanes towards Eastburn and Steeton, and Wood Street… The junction of these four lane ends is the scene of one of Steeton’s tragedies. At this place is buried a suicide called Nanny, with “a stake in her inside.” Some people point out the mound under which she’s buried. When the suicide took place isn’t known, but it would certainly not occur later than the 17th century.”
But there are no records telling of the said ‘nanny’ and her death, nor archaeological accounts of any excavations hereby. The epithet nanny is sometimes used in northern counties to mean a witch, and although we have no remaining lore telling of such a character, the old name Devil’s Lane certainly infers some pre-christian or supernatural history hereby, common to many ancient burial mounds throughout Britain and across the world. Also a burial at an old crossroads is another heathen indicator; and the legend of the body having “a stake in her inside” is highly suggestive of further archaic death rituals, fixing the spirit of the dead at the site to prevent transmigration of any form, effectively ending the lineage of shaman or other heathen priestess. Any further information about this site would be most welcome.
References:
Clough, John, History of Steeton, S. Billows: Keighley 1886.
The well is all dried up today, but its remains are about 200 yards north of the river Wharfe. Sam Brewster (1980) told the easiest way to find it: “To get there from Thorp Arch you take the trackway that goes to the south of the church and follow this until you are walking alongside the river; eventually you will come to a barrier of barbed wire near some old disused water-works; get under or over this barrier and turn 90 degrees to your left, following the barbed wire until you come to a wood, the other side of the barbed wire; go into the wood and turn right; keep exploring near the edge of the wood until you find a tree under which is a hollow which used to be St. Helen’s Well.” Once here you can see where the water used to flow down a narrow channel and under a little bridge.
Archaeology & History
Carved cross remains found near St Helen’s Well
This ancient and well-known healing spring is shown on early OS-maps emerging a short distance north of the River Wharfe besides St. Helen’s Beck in Chapel Wood, adjacent to the Kirkstall Ing or field. In the western fields close by was once an ancient chapel and, closer to the holy well, once “stood St. Helen’s (or St. Helena’s) Cross, which is somewhat crudely represented in Dr. Whitaker’s History of Craven“, (Speight 1902), illustrated here.
This well possesses a prodigious occult history yet is curiously absent from most studies on the subject. The place is said to have been a respected holy site that was venerated long before the Romans arrived here. Found at a place called the Rudgate — but known locally as St. Helen’s Ford — it is also said to be haunted. Angela Smith (n.d.) considers the traditions surrounding the well to be pre-Roman, and the curative waters would certainly have been known of at the time of their occupation here,
“because it lies at the side of Roman road No.280, just north of where it crosses the River Wharfe at St. Helen’s Ford, leading to the Roman fort at Newton Kyme.”
St Helens Well in 1900
Several species of psychoactive plants grow adjacent to the well, which are thought by Phillips, (1976) Devereux (1992) and I as serving ritual shamanic purposes. The likelihood is more so than not. The oracular nature of the site which R.C. Hope (1893) and others have described here is particularly interesting: in traditions the world over, oracles were often consulted after the ingestion or use of sacred plants, such as are found here.
Due to the sacred nature of this spring and its importance in local folklore and history, it should be recovered from its present state. The fact that this place was highly important as a ritual and sacred site to christians, pagans, Romans and peasants alike, and now hides all-but-lost and forgotten is a disgrace.
Folklore
A fascinating tale hangs over this still-revered holy well which legend tells had a chapel standing adjacent, dedicated to Helen in the 7th century – although no trace of it is visible today. Local historian Edmund Bogg (1904) recounted how a local sexton told of “padfoots and barguests and ‘that grim foul beast with clanking chain’ which on dark nights kept its vigil” near St.Helen’s Well. Padfoots and barguests are Yorkshire names for spectral black dogs, said to be bringers of death and misfortune (they are one of several remaining folk-ingredients from the Underworld myths in British shamanism).
St Helen’s Well, c.1935St Helens Well in 1934
Folklorist Guy Ragland Phillips (1976), referring to an article in The Dalesman in 1971, told how a Mrs Dorothy Tate as a young girl used to visit the site and would tie pieces of rag on the bushes aside the place as grateful offerings to the spirit of the well. She said however, that she had gone about doing this in the wrong way, as according to tradition such offerings are to be done secretly. The article showed a photograph of Mrs Tate (from 1908) tying one of the memaws to the wych-elm tree overhanging the old spring.
People visited the well – probably on August 18 – to divine the future with the oracle which Hope (1893) described as being here, always in the dead of night without being seen, leaving before sunrise. It has been visited by thousands of people over the centuries, with gifts of rag-hangings, pins and other memaws. Such offerings continue even to this day. When Harry Speight (1902) visited St. Helen’s Well at the turn of the century, he related how as many as forty or fifty hangings would be left at any one time on the branches of the trees. He wrote:
“The water is beautifully soft and clear, and in former times was much resorted to as a specific for sore or weak eyes. There are two other springs close by, which were also held to be sacred, but they do not bear any particular dedications. An old plantation a little north of the well is known as Chapel Wood, which commemorates St. Helen’s chapel and the ancient church at Bilton, three miles further north, and about a mile to the east of the Roman Rudgate, is also dedicated to St. Helen.”
A few years before Speight’s visit here, Dr Fred Lees and the botanist, Robert Baines, visited St. Helen’s Well, and wrote similarly of the lore and memaws they found there:
“There are veritably hundreds of these bedizenings affixed and removed surreptitiously (probably before sunrise), according to an unwritten law, for none are ever caught in the act. And yet during the summer months a careful observer may detect almost weekly evidence of a shy communicant with the ghostly genius of someone¾country maid or her dumb shy swain. What murmured litany (if any) had to be said is lost; most likely nothing more was necessary than the unspoken wish…Pieced together and codified, fact and heresay testify as follows: ‘The visitor to the grove, before rise of sun, has to face the tree [a wych-elm overhanging the well] to detach from his or her own person some garment, to dip it in the well, and having knotted or whilst hanging the fragment to any convenient twig…is to breathe a ‘wish’ telling no-one what that wish may be; these conditions strictly observed, what is desired shall come to pass.'” (in Phillips, 1976)
When the archaeologist C.N. Bromehead (1935) and geologist J.V. Stephens came to the site in the 1930s, despite the fall of the well, he was surprised to find local peasants still respecting the spirits of the site, reporting:
“There is now no well or visible spring, but from the position at the lower margin of a gravel terrace it is obvious that water would be obtained by digging a few feet; a small stream flows just east of the site… It is curious that the hanging of rags should survive when the actual well has vanished, but the writer has visited the spot many times in the last seven years and there are always plenty of obviously recent additions. The custom is to stand facing the well (i.e., due west), preferably after sunset, wish, and then attach something torn from one’s clothing either to the big tree — wych elm — or to any of the bushes. Probably the custom is largely maintained by vagrants who frequently camp in the wood, but it also has its attraction for courting couples from the neighbouring villages!”
Such offerings at the site of St. Helen’s Well are still left by locals and some of the plastic pagans, who tie pieces of artificial material to the remnants of the wych-elm and other trees, which actually pollutes the Earth and kills the spirit here. Whilst the intent may be good, please, if you’re gonna leave offerings here, make sure that the rags you leave are totally biodegradable. The magical effectiveness of your intent is almost worthless if the material left is toxic to the environment and will certainly have a wholly negative effect on the spirit of the placehere. Please consider this to ensure the sacred nature of the site.
…to be continued…
References:
Bogg, Edmund, Lower Wharfeland, the Old City of York and the Ainsty, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Brewster, Sam, ‘St. Helen’s Well,’ in Wind & Water 1:4, 1980.
Bromehead, C.N., ‘Rag Wells,’ in Antiquity IX, March 1935.
On Thurstaston Common a 298 foot high hill has a large red sandstone outcrop, on the landward side, known as Thor’s Stone. One large rectangular block of stone that is 50 feet in length, 30 feet wide by 25 foot high has been eroded over thousands of years. Described by J.A. Picton in 1877 as “the Great Stone of Thor,” the village itself seemed to have gained its name from this prominent mass of rocks. It was described first of all in the Domesday book, as Turstanetone, and both village and rocks have been written as variants on the original ever since. The place-names writers Mills & Room (1998) ascribe the name to being a “farmstead or village of a man called Thorstein”; but it’s just as likely to derive from “a farmstead of/at Thor’s Stone.” (Harrison 1898) As early landscape features were traditionally equated with animistic and mythic lore, the Viking god Thor is more probable than some unlikely chap called Thorstein.
Local folklore tells that the rock is named after the Norse god Thor – he who causes thunder and lightning. Viking settlers from Thingwell apparently settled here in the 10th century AD and, according to legend, these settlers used the stone as a pagan altar with blood sacrifices taking place here. A creation myth of the site tells that Thor tossed the large stone here in anger; and yet another says that the stone was raised here to commemorate the battle of Brunanburh in 937 AD. In modern more times, Morris dancers meet here and enact their rites on Mayday mornings.
The outcrop has been eroded away over thousands of years by the weather, post glacial erosion and even quarrying, leaving strange shapes, features and projections in the soft sandstone. There is much recent graffiti to be seen all over the rock, especially on the summit and sides including one set of graffiti carved by Professor Taylor in 1879. There used to be a “fairy well” near the stone but this disappeared long ago. Children took flowers to the well to decorate it, while adults visited it to receive a cure for various ailments of the body. At nearby Thurstaston Hall, Christina Hole (1937) reported there lived the ghost of a troubled woman.
References:
Harrison, Henry, The Place-Names of Liverpool, Elliot Stock: London 1898.
Hole, Christina, Traditions and Customs of Cheshire, Williams & Norgate: 1937.
Mills, A.D. & Room, Adrian, A Dictionary of English Place-Names, Oxford University Press 1998.
From the bottom of Pateley Bridge, just out of town take the left turn to Bewerley and go through the village; or from Glasshouses follow the road over the River Nidd and round. Both ways take you to meet the steep and winding Nought Bank Road, which you should follow all the way to the top of the moorland hill. You can just park up by the footpath taking you east. Then cross the road and walk west on the dirt-track to Rowan Tree Crags. 100 yards along, the gentle sloping moor on your left is the Old Wife’s Ridge.
Archaeology & History
The academic history of this moorland is poor, save occasional notes about lead mining and quarrying (Jennings 1967). Speight (1894) describes the finding of large pieces of lead-worked Roman inscriptions nearby that were found in January 1735 — one of which had the letters ‘BRIG’ cut into it, thought to be a referral to the land or deity, Brigantia. Examples of prehistoric rock art occur at nearby Guisecliff Woods, due east, but there are no specific notices about the archaeology of this hillside.
Long overgrown stone at Old Wife Ridge
When we visited the place yesterday, much of the heather had been burned (the previous year) and we found two stones which looked suspiciously as if they had stood upright in the past, and may have had played some part in the naming and myth of the Old Wife on this part of the moors. I can find no other records of any remains here.
Folklore
References to the Old Wife scatter our northern lands and invariably refer to an aspect of the heathen Earth Mother of our peasant ancestors, particularly in Her aspects of winter and early spring. In Scotland and Ireland She was commonly known as the cailleach. Sadly I can find no extant lore relating to Her mythic aspects in the landscape on these hills. A field-name to the south, Nanny Black Hill, may have related to the Old Wife.
References:
Jennings, Bernard (ed.), A History of Nidderdale, Advertiser Press: Huddersfield 1967.
o’ Crualaoich, Gearoid, The Book of the Cailleach, Cork University Press 2003.
Speight, Harry, Nidderdale, Elliot Stock: London 1894.
Park at Stump Cross Caverns on the B6265 road, then walk down the road for 200 yards till you reach the track on your left running over the fields in the direction towards Simon’s Seat. Walk on the track for about 600 yards until there’s a change of direction in the adjacent walling and then watch out for the dirt-track on your right, curving towards the small valley (if you hit the Skyreholme Wall carving (413), you’ve gone 100 yards past the turn-off). Go on here until you see the overgrown track on your left into a small disused quarry, and head right, down the grassy slope, checking out the few stones ion front of you 20 yards down. You’re damn close!
Archaeology & History
Carving no.404 (after Boughey & Vickerman)
A simplistic carving that was first described by fellow antiquarian Stuart Feather (1964), this is one of at least four cup-marked stones in a small group here, above the valley of Skyreholme Beck — better known at this part of the valley as the Troller’s Ghyll, haunt of various heathen lore. Although some of the carving has now been covered by the growing Earth, you can still see the majority of the design.
It is a flat, roughly triangular stone described by rock art students Boughey & Vickerman (2003) and having 13 cup-markings on it. To get a full look at the entire carving, you may have to roll a bit of the turf away from one side of the rock.
Folklore
Although we have no lore relating to this specific carving, the small valley over which this carving looks was long known as the abode of the legendary bharguests, or black dogs: underworld creatures of earlier heathen myths. Faerie lore can also be found a short distance further up the same stream.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
From the Chester ring road head into north Wales along the coast road (A548) from Connah’s Quay for about 13 miles taking you through Flint. After 12 miles turn left into Holywell town (Treffynnon). At the western end of the town go down the Greenfield-Mostyn road back towards the A584 taking you down a hill. After 500 hundred yards you arrive at the holy well/shrine and pilgrimage centre on the right-hand side; there is parking on the opposite side of the road. There is a small entrance fee, but as well as the famous healing well and bathing pool, they have a gift shop, toilet facilities and a late medieval/Gothic two-storey structure that is built over the polygonal, vaulted well chamber, whilst at the side (at the corner of the hill) stands another Gothic chapel from 1500.
History and Legend
According to the well known legend, a young Welsh girl called Winefride or Gwenfrewi, was the daughter of patrician parents, Thenith (Thewyth) and Gwenlo, who lived at Bryn-y-Castell (Treffynnon) at the beginning of the 7th century AD. She was a very religious girl who was known for her kindness and charities to people in the area that was then called Tegeingl (after the Decengle tribe). Winefride grew up to be a very beautiful young woman which troubled her because she had no wish to marry, only to live a life of chastity and serve God as only she knew how.
St. Winefrides Well 1742
One day a local chieftain from Hawarden (Penarlag) called Caradoc ap Alyn came hunting in the area. He became very thirsty so stopped off at the house where Winefride lived with her parents. However, on this particular day her parents were attending the local church where St Beuno, her uncle, was conducting a service. Prince Caradoc soon began to seduce her so she ran to the church but with the prince in hot pursuit. When he caught up with poor Winefride, she again resisted him so he took his sword and beheaded her. Her severed head fell to the ground and rolled down a hill and where it came to rest a spring of water gushed forth from the ground. Her parents and uncle came rushing out of the church at which point St Beuno cursed the evil prince, who was calmly wiping blood from his sword, causing him to sink into the ground — never to be seen again. St. Beuno then placed the severed head back into place, restoring Winifred to life again but leaving her with a thin scar round her neck.
Later, Winifred was entrusted for her education to St Beuno whom sent her to various holy men including St. Elerius at Gwytherin near Llanwrst. Here she became abbess of a convent that had been founded by Elerius, with his mother St. Theonia as first abbess; and it was here for the next 40 years that Winifred lived out her life. She was said to have died at Gwytherin in either 65o or 670 AD. Her body was first interred in the churchyard there, however in 1138 her relics were transferred to Shrewsbury Abbey. Sadly however, her shrine there was destroyed in the 16th century and now only a few relics remain with a finger-bone being housed at a convent in Holywell.
Mythology and Folklore
St. Winefrides Well 1750
The holy well and shrine of St. Winifred at Holywell became a place of pilgrimage during the middle-ages and many miracles of healing were wrought there. The sick were cured of infirmities of the legs and body; crutches were left at the well and many were cured of leprosy, eye complaints, loss of hearing, being not able to bear a child, mental illness, palsy and lung disorders etc. During the Reformation the holy well suffered much, but from the 17th century onwards pilgrims were returning to the holy place and, more recently it has become the Welsh Lourdes and still pilgrims come in droves from all over Wales and beyond. The vaulted Gothic structure covering the well shrine is richly carved with bosses depicting various characters including St Beuno, Earl Stanley, Lady Margaret Beaufort, biblical characters, animals and an abbot of Basingwerk abbey, but there is also much recent graffiti too. A tall statue of St Winefride looks down over the well while candles burn all around. In the larger bathing pool outside, a stone lies at one side — this is claimed to be where St. Beuno sat whilst teaching his young niece. Red stains on stones at the front of the well-basin were long taken to be the martyr’s bloodstains, but now these are thought to be iron oxide pigmentation on the lichens. Today the people still come either to bathe in the special pool, throw coins in the well, or fill bottles with holy water from a tap on the wall. Faith in miracles of healing is still much in evidence here and may it continue to be for many years to come. Everyone is welcome here, you don’t have to be a Roman Catholic!
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Sacred Waters, Paladin: London 1986.
David, Christopher, Saint Winefride’s Well – A History and Guide, Gomer Press: Llandysul 2002.
Edwards-Charles, Thomas, Saint Winefride and Her Well – The Historical Background, Holywell 1962.
Heath, Sidney, In the Steps of the Pilgrims, Rich & Cowan: London 1950.
Jones, Francis, The Holy Wells of Wales, University of Wales Press: Cardiff 1992.
From Llangollen, take the A542 north for about three miles up along the famous Vale of Llangollen. At the ruined abbey of Valley Crucis continue along the same road for another ½-mile whence, at the side of the road in a field and upon a small mound, stands the ancient monument: the Pillar of Eliseg.
Archaeology & History
The sandstone pillar or pillar-shaft stands upon a large square-shaped base stone which sits atop a tumulus — a Bronze Age burial mound (cairn) inside which were found, during excavations in 1803, the remains of a body, perhaps that of a Romano-British or Dark-Ages chieftain (possibly Eliseg?), with what were described as “blue stones” both beneath and on top; the cremated body lying within a stone-slab chamber along with a silver coin. But the ancient pillar monument itself is much later in date — probably mid-9th century AD, though there has been speculation by some historians that the pillar was actually a tall cross, alas without its head, dating from a couple of centuries earlier, with the inscription being carved onto it sometime between 840-845 AD. It was erected by Prince Cyngen fab Cadell (Concenn) about the year 844 in memory of his great-grandfather Eliseg or Elise. Cyngen died in Rome in 854 AD.
Over the centuries the pillar has suffered from the ravages of time. Its long Latin inscription was originally 31 lines divided into readable paragraphs running horizontally but now only 7 or 8 of these lines are visible. But fortunately the writer and historian Edward Lhuyd made a drawing of the monument and its inscription back in 1696. The inscription when translated reads as follows:
1. Concenn son of Cadell, Cadell son of Brochmail, Brochmail son of Eliseg, Eliseg son of Guoillauc
2. Concenn therefore being great-grandfather of Eliseg erected this stone to his great-grandfather Eliseg
3. It is Eliseg who annexed the inheritance of Powys…throughout nine (years) from the power of the English which he made into a sword-land by fire
4. Whosoever shall read this hand-inscribed inscription stone, let him give a blessing on the soul of Eliseg
5. It is Concenn Who…with his hand…to his own kingdom of Powys…and which…the mountain…the monarchy Maximus…of Britain…Concenn, Pascent…Maun, Annan.
6. Britu, moreover, (was) the son of Guorthigirn (Vortigern) Whom (St) Germanus blessed and whom Severa bore to him, the daughter of Maximus the king who slew the king of the Romans and
7. Convarch painted this writing at the command of his king Concenn
8. The blessing of the Lord (be) upon Concenn and all members of his family and upon all the land of Powys Until the day of judgement or doom. Amen.
The upper section of the pillar, which is broken at the top, was re-erected on top of the burial mound in 1779 which probably means that the monument is not in its original place. The lower section was sadly broken away from the shaft during the English Civil war and has long since disappeared. However, this monument is still quite an impressive site and can be seen from a great distance around.
References:
Bartrum, P.C., Early Welsh Genealogical Tracts, Cardiff: UWP, 1966.
Barber, Chris, More Mysterious Wales, Paladin 1987.
Houlder, Christopher, Wales: An Archaeological Guide – the prehistoric, Roman and early medieval field monuments, Faber and Faber, London 1974.
Tyack, George S., The Cross in Ritual, Architecture and Art, William Andrews: London 1900.
Westwood, J.O., Lapidarium Walliæ – The Early Incised and Sculptured Stones of Wales, Oxford University Press 1879.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SD 696 208
Also Known as:
Whitehall Tumulus
Ashleigh Barrow urns (after John Dixon)
Archaeology & History
Early accounts of this site tell of its destruction in the 19th century, but a modern reconstruction of the site has been made close to where it once stood. And this tomb sounded quite impressive! Within the ‘tomb’ were found a large number of urns, one of which was curiously empty. In John Dixon’s excellent Journeys through Brigantia (2003) work he told that,
“Contemporary reports about its excavation state that it was of circular form about 30 yards in diameter, being formed on a naze or promontory of an undulating plateau overlooking the Darwen valley. Its height was said to vary between 10 to 12 feet on the east side and between 2 or 3 feet on the west, the centre being about 6 feet in diameter and consisting of a slight hollow.
“Ten interments appear to have been made, one being just a heap of burnt bones, the others, having been enclosed in urns, the majority of which are badly broken, consisted of ashes and fragments of bone together with unrecognizable pieces of bronze. Two urns also contained ‘incense cups’ and another a 7½-inch bronze knife or dagger.
“The design of the urns is similar to those from the Middle Bronze Age… All but two of the urns were found within an area 21 feet by 14 feet, whilst one was 40 feet away. They were, with one exception, placed in the Earth with the orifice pointing upwards and were covered with slabs, the depth at which they were found varying from 1 to 2 feet.”
Remains of the urns can be seen on display in the Darwen Library.
Folklore
Once again in John Dixon’s (2003) fine Journey’s through Brigantia volume, we read of folklore relating to the respect of the dead which local people used to give this old tomb, telling:
“Many superstitions were attached to the barrow and its destruction in the 1860s, with the country people speaking of the place being haunted by ‘boggarts’ and children having been known to take off their clogs or shoes and walk past it barefoot in the night time.”
References:
Dixon, John, Journeys through Brigantia – volume 11: East Lancashire Pennines, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 2003.
Chambered Cairn (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SJ 266 223
Also Known as:
Llanymynych Hill
Llech y Wydhon
Scruffy 1835 ground plan of the lost tomb
Archaeology & History
An exact grid-reference for this once-impressive chambered tomb is difficult as “nothing remains of this site at the present day” (Daniel 1950) and the majority of the hilltop itself (a prehistoric hillfort no less), has been turned into one of those awful golf courses which are still spreading like cancer over our ancient hills. It was obviously very close to the Shropshire border, as the folklorist Charlotte Burne (1853) said the grave was “on the Shropshire side of Llanymynech Hill,” perhaps placing it in the township of Pant. But traditionally it remains within Llanymynech, within and near the top of the huge hillfort and east of Offa’s Dyke.
The old tomb was mentioned in an early letter of the great druid revivalist, Edward Lhwyd, who left us with the old ground-plan, reproduced above; and based on Lhwyd’s drawing and early narratives, Glyn Daniel (1950) thought the site “was perhaps a gallery grave”. The best description we have of Bedd y Cawy was penned by John Fewtrell (1878) in his essay on the local parish in which he told:
“This interesting relic of antiquity stood on the north-eastern end of the hill. It was formed of four upright stones, on the top of which was placed a flat slab measuring 7ft by 6ft, and 18 in thickness. It is known by the name “Bedd-y-Cawr” (the Giant’s grave). The British name appears to support the theory that the cromlech is a burying place, and not an altar devoted to religious purposes. The word is derived probably from the Welsh cromen, a roof, or vault, and lech, a stone, meaning a vault formed by a slab supported upon uprights ; or, according to some, ” the inclining flat stone”. Rowlands derives it from the Hebrew cærem-luach, “a devoted stone”, but this is far-fetched for a word or name in common use among our British forefathers. Many regard the cromlech as a distinct species of monument, differing from either a dolmen or a cairn.
“When the covering of stones or earth has been removed by the improving agriculturist, the great blocks which form the monolithic skeleton of the mound and its chamber usually defy the resources at his command. As the skeleton implies the previous existence of the organised body of which it formed the framework, so, upon this theory, the existence of a ‘ cromlech ‘ implies the previous existence of the chambered tumulus of which it had formed the internal framework. Sepulchral tumuli were formerly classified according to their external configuration or internal construction; but more extended and critical observation has shown that mere variations of form afford no clue to the relative antiquity of the structures. But as it has always been the custom of the prehistoric races to bury with their dead objects in common use at the time of their interment, such as implements, weapons, and personal ornaments, we have in these the means of assigning the period of the deposit relatively to the Stone, Bronze, or Iron age.” Sometimes no traces whatever of human remains are found in the chamber. Search was made to some depth in this cromlech, but nothing was found.”
In Fewtrell’s same essay he also described another megalithic site (also destroyed) on the southwestern part of the Llanymynech Hill, where,
“stood two rows of flat stones, parallel, 6 feet asunder, and 36 in length. A tradition exists which states that in digging near this place a Druid’s cell was discovered, but of what shape or size it does not relate. There were a number of human bones and teeth in a state of good preservation also discovered. In digging between the parallel rows a stratum of red earth was found, about an inch thick.”
Folklore
As the name of this old tomb tells, it was once reputed as “the Grave of the Giant”, but in Charlotte Burne’s huge work on the folklore of Shropshire (volume 1), she told it to be the tomb of his lady:
‘The Giant’s Grave’ is the name given to a mound on the Shropshire side of Llanymynech Hill, where once was a cromlech, now destroyed. The story goes that a giant buried his wife there, with a golden circlet round her neck, and many a vain attempt has been made by covetous persons to find it, undeterred by the fate which tradition says overtook three brothers, who overturned the capstone of the cromlech, and were visited by sudden death immediately afterwards.”
There is also a legendary cave beneath Llanymynech Hill which have long been regarded as the above of goblins and faerie folk. More of this will be told in the profile for the hillfort itself.
References:
Burne, Charlotte Sophia (ed.), Shropshire Folk-lore, Trubner: London 1853.
Daniel, Glyn E., The Prehistoric Chamber Tombs of England and Wales, Cambridge University Press 1950.
Fewtrell, John, “Parochial History of Llanymynech,” in Collections Historical & Archaeological Relating to Montgomeryshire, volume 11, 1878.
Wynne, W.W.E., “Letters of E. Lhwyd,” in Archaeologia Cambrensis, vol.3, 1848.
Maypole (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0458 9121
Redmire’s ancient Oak
Archaeology & History
As with many of Britain’s old maypoles, the one at Redmire has long since disappeared and no local in the 20th century appears to have had any memory of it. However, it was mentioned in Victorian times and described in McGregor’s (1989) fine history work on the village:
“At one time, somewhere on the Green, stood a maypole which was destroyed by lightning. I never heard the memory of it recalled during my early life, but it is mentioned in their books by both Barker and Bogg. The remnants of it appear to have been there in 1850 or 1852, as Barker, writing at that time says, ‘A maypole, rare in Yorkshire, stands on the Green. It was shivered to pieces by the electric fluid, during a thunderstorm, in the summer of 1849. This poor maypoles catastrophe would have been regarded by the old Puritans as a direct and visible manifestation of the wrath of heaven at such a heathenish practice.’ Redmire, as we know, took pleasure in dancing in the 19th century, and continued to do so, especially after the building of the Town Hall…”
When Edmund Bogg came here at the end of th 19th century, he saw “the base of the ancient maypole…near to, a twisted and ancient oak” whose ancient branches were being held upright by large wooden posts. This sacred oak itself was said to “still cast its shade over a small spring of water.” Unfortunately I ‘ve found no more about this lost pagan relic…
References:
Barker, W.G.M.J., The Three Days of Wensleydale, Charles Dolman: London 1854.
Bogg, Edmund, Wensleydale and the Lower Vale of Yore, E. Bogg: Leeds n.d. (c.1900)
McGregor, Isabelle, Redmire – A Patchwork of its History, privately printed: Redmire 1989.
