From Bainbridge, take the A684 road east to Aysgarth. Just out of the town, 200 yards over the bridge, take the right turn down Blean Lane. Nearly ½-mile along, take the minor road on your left and go along here for 1½ miles where, a few hundred yards before the solitary farm of Carpley Green (lucky buggers!), you can park up. (keep plenty of room for a tractor to get in the fields) Walk down the track past the farm and 250 yards along, where the first field ends, a gate leads you into the hills on your left. Go through here and then the next gate 120 yards on, then walk straight along th elong geological ridge ahead of you, veering to the top-side until it meets the walling. You’ll see the giant Stoney Raise cairn on the other side.
Archaeology & History
Stony Raise from above
The remains we find here are nigh-on immense! If giant cairns get you going (like the Great Skirtful of Stones or the denuded Devil’s Apronful near Pendle, etc), this one will blow you away! Along its widest axis, to this day it’s nearly 40 yards across and nearly 7 feet high! But in earlier times it was even bigger—much bigger! The first known description of the site was made by one Charles Fothergill, a Yorkshire-born politician and ornithologist, who wrote a diary of his walking excursions to various places in North Yorkshire at the beginning of the 19th century. (Romney 1984) His account of it was a good one for that period and thankfully he recorded information that would otherwise have been forgotten. After his visit here in September 1805, he told about this,
“wonderful tumulus called Stone raise which is a great curiosity: it is formed entirely of large stones piled up without earth or gravel, differing in that respect from any I have seen. Notwithstanding that upwards of a thousand, nay ’tis said several thousand, loads of stones have been led away from it to build walls with, it yet remains a stupendous monument of this species of antiquity: we measured the base of it as well as we could by our strides and made it 369 feet in circumference and of such an height as to be seen for a considerable distance. It has been most completely rifled…and it now presents a number of small craters formed by the investigations of the money searchers. It is situated upon a hill about half a mile south of Addlebrough. In addition to the particulars I formerly mentioned, I may say the men who first opened it about 50 years ago worked incessantly for 33 days. It stands on Thornton moor, and tho’ the Thornton men would not assist in the labour, they intended to share in the profit if there was any; but the adventurers who had all the work resolved they should not and they carried a large sword with them every day to defend the treasure in case they found any; the wise man who read ’till the stones shook and rattled was a schoolmaster at Bainbridge: the teeth they found were deposited in a hollow place in the bottom of the tumuli formed long and narrow like a coffin by a walling of stones. Tho’ the tumulus has apparantly been compleatly rifled, I do not believe the whole base has been sufficiently searched, but if it was to commemorate one great individual, which appears to have been the case, perhaps nothing more may be found.”
Fothergill’s description of “upwards of a thousand” cartloads of stone being removed from Stony Raise has been doubted by some archaeologists, but this claim should not be dismissed so lightly without evidence. There are immense tombs from northern Scotland to the unholy South that have remained untouched by the hand of industrialists that easily enter the category of such giants and this may have had equal stature.
A few years after Fothergill’s visit, Thomas Whitaker (1823) briefly described the site in his magnum opus, but added very little, simply telling that on the hills behind Addlebrough,
“there is still on that elevated spot a cairn, called Stone Raise, about 120 yards in circumference at the base, to which the usual tradition of its containing a treasure of gold having been attached, two persons were several years ago induced to make the experiment; but having penetrated to the centre, found, to their great disappointment, what an antiquary would have prepared them to expect, namely, a kist vaen of flag stones, with the remains of a human skeleton, the teeth of which were still pretty perfect.”
To this day the site remains unexcavated, so we don’t know too much about the place. It’s likely to have been constructed in neolithic times and its ancestral nature quite obviously venerated. It may have been re-used during the Bronze Age, but without excavations we may never know. A decent dig into this site is long overdue!
Folklore
This gigantic tomb is, not surprisingly, said to be haunted. Strange sounds and visions have been encountered here in bygone times. But the most well-known tale is that it was the site of a great treasure—perhaps hinted at by Fothergill. There are variations on the theme, but this is overall story:
Structured stonework
The tomb was said to be where a local giant had fallen and with him was buried a great chest of gold which he had dropped before he died. Some say that the ‘giant’ was a Brigantian chief – others a great warrior. The great treasure chest beneath the cairn is said to looked over by a fairy who lived by the giant’s tomb. It was this tale which gave the site its local name, the ‘Golden Chest on Greenber’. Several attempts made to find the treasure have all failed to uncover it.
However, by the time Edmund Bogg came to write of the place in 1908, the giant had by all accounts been found within! He told that,
The giant’s cist cover?
“this Kist-vaen was opened, many years back, and the skeleton of a chieftain of great stature was unearthed; the treasure chest of that or some other primal savage was not, and has not yet been discovered – for, take heed ye matter-of-fact money hunters, it is said the lucky one must first see the wraith of the ancient warrior to whom it belonged, who will then shew under which part of the immense Raise it is hidden! May this help any reader who is imaginative enough to find it – having seen the wraith he must keep silence – he has then but to stretch out his hand, and draw it forth.”
There are variations on this tale that have subsequently been penned by a number of Yorkshire folklorists, but this is the general lore. There was also a short rhyme told of toney Raise, that speaks of its apparent use through history by various races:
Druid, Roman, Scandinavia,
Stone Raise in Addlebro’.
References:
Bogg, Edmund, Wensleydale and the Lower Vale of the Yore, E. Bogg: Leeds 1906.
Bogg, Edmund, Richmondshire, James Miles: Leeds 1908.
Elgee, F. & H.W., The Archaeology of Yorkshire, Methuen: London 1933.
Gutch, Mrs E., Examples of Printed Folklore Concerning the North Riding of Yorkshire, David Nutt: London 1899.
Lofthouse, Jessica, Countrygoer in the Dales, Hale: London 1964.
Parkinson, Thomas, Yorkshire Legends and Traditions – volume 2, Elliot Stock: London 1889.
Pontefract, Ella, Wensleysdale, J.M. Dent: London 1936.
Romney, Paul (ed.), The Diary of Charles Fothergill, 1805, Yorkshire Archaeological Society: Leeds 1984.
Whitaker, Thomas Dunham, An History of Richmondshire – volume 1, Longman Hurst: London 1823.
White, Robert, A Landscape through Time, Great Northern: Ilkley 2002.
On the A816 road, a mile-and-a-bit north of Kilmartin, take the small road (east) to Ford—passing the Creagantairbh stone on your right, then a bit further on the Auchinellan stone on your left. Go through Ford village, making sure to stick to the road that goes along the north side of Loch Awe — as if you’re heading to Dalavich. Just fractionally over a mile out of Ford village, just where the road begins to swerve into a large bend, there’s a small left-turn that takes you to some houses. Just 60-70 yards along this little road, take the trivial little path on your right that takes you straight to a piece of manicured scrubland. If you walk into it, and bear left, you’ll see what you’re looking for. It’s unmissable!
Archaeology & History
When I first visited here in the 1990s, a farm building stood by this huge standing stone and there were no other houses nearby. How things change—but thankfully our old sentinel stone is still living here.
Site shown on 1875 mapRomilly Allen’s 1880 sketch
It was highlighted by the Ordnance Survey lads on their early map of the area, and visited a few years later by the great petroglyphic pioneer J. Romilly Allen. (1880) Standing eleven feet tall and more than four feet across at the base, Allen noticed that, about four feet above ground-level, someone had carved an old cross onto the northeast face of the stone (you can just make it out in the attached photos). It had obviously been carved many centuries ago, by a wandering christian no doubt—although it was incomplete and never finished. Perhaps the person who carved it was chased away by local folk, who would have obviously and rightly seen such an act as outright vandalism. The cross was deemed by Ian Fisher (2001) and the Royal Commission (1992) to be medieval in nature. Apparently there’s another, much fainter cross that was first mentioned by Marion Campbell etched on the other side of the stone, but in all the times I came here I was never able to make it out.
Old faint cross carvingSmall person, big stone!
But even further back in time someone had carved a cup-marking on the stone—and the cross was etched onto the same spot, enclosing the cup-mark. When I lived nearby, I made a sketch (long since lost) of what seemed to be two other faint cup-marks at one end of the extended arms of the cross, but on our recent visit here these were very hard to make out. When Ron Morris (1981) mentioned the stone in his survey, he mentioned its proximity to other cup-and-ring carvings immediately to the southeast and a hillock thereby, wondering whether there was “an astronomical complex” going on here. I doubt it—but I like the idea!
But it’s the size of the stone that’s most impressive here and keeps up with the tradition of similar megaliths in and around the Kilmartin area. Check the place out when you’re hunting the other stones nearby. You won’t be disappointed!
Folklore
Local tradition ascribed this great stone as marking the grave of an ancient warrior. The full folk tale seems to have been lost.
Fisher, Ian, Early Medieval Sculpture in the West Highlands and Islands, RCAHMS: Edinburgh 2001.
Morris, Ronald W.B., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Southern Scotland, BAR: Oxford 1981.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – Volume 6: Mid-Argyll and Cowal, HMSO: Edinburgh 1988.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – Volume 7: Mid-Argyll and Cowal: Medieval and Later Monuments, HMSO: Edinburgh 1992.
Ruggles, Clive, Megalithic Astronomy, BAR: Oxford 1984.
Swarbrick, Olaf, A Gazetteer of Prehistoric Standing Stones in Great Britain, BAR: Oxford 2012.
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.
St. Maughold’s Well—also called Chibbyr Vaghal—is found on the northeast side of the headland on the cliff face about a hundred feet above the sea, a quarter mile from the St. Maughold’s church. It was a pilgrimage site which people visited on the dates of November 15 and July 31.
“…Beneath the head, under some moss clad rocks, is a deep spring, formerly much celebrated for its supposed medicinal virtues.” – George Jefferson, 1840
St Maughold’s on 1870 map‘Well’ on the 1836 map
Its medicinal properties are of great repute and was resorted to by many on account of its sanctity by crowds of pilgrims. The well was traditionally visited on the first Sunday in August, being the first Sunday after the Saint ‘s principal feast day, July 31 (significant in the Celtic calendar), but the devotions here have their origins in pre-christian times. The principal benefit at the well was a cure for sore eyes. After bathing the eyes or drinking the water it was/is customary to drop a coin, pin or button into it. Alternatively, a piece of cloth which had been used for bathing the eyes would be left by the well or on a nearby bush. As the cloth rotted, the ailment would be cured; while anyone who picked up the rags would himself receive the complaint associated with the offering; and to receive the full benefit of the well’s curative powers it should be visited on that first Sunday in August, and “while books were open in the church” — or in pre-reformation days, whilst Mass was being offered.
“…Where the spring gushes forth the rock has been hollowed into a small basin, and over it has been erected a simple shed of rough unhewn blocks of the rock immediately at hand. Hither the Saint is said to have resorted; nor is it altogether improbable that nearly fourteen hundred years ago at this very font he administered the baptismal rite. Certainly it was for many ages in great repute for its medicinal properties, and was resorted to on account of its sanctity by crowds of pilgrims from all parts. Nor is it yet forgotten.” – J.G. Cumming, 1848
“…A drink of its water, taken after resting in the saint’s chair close by, is supposed to be an unfailing cure for barrenness in women.” – A.W. Moore, 1890
Folklore
At Maughold churchyard above the well, ghostly whispers are said to be heard by the steps in the churchyard. This is interesting as when excavations were done here, the labourers found bones buried beneath the same steps. They were dug and exposed during the day and one worker who stayed in the church heard distant sounds, whispers and murmuring all around the church. When the bones were reinterred, the haunting stopped. (Bord & Bord 1985)
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Sacred Waters: Holy Wells and Water Lore in Britain and Ireland, Granada: London 1985.
Cumming, J.G., The Isle of Man: Its History, Physical and Ecclesiastical, J. van Voorst: London 1848.
Hall, John, “Earth Mysteries of the Isle of Man,” in Earth, no.17, 1990.
Moore, A.W., The Surnames and Place-Names of the Isle of Man, Elliot Stock: London 1890.
Jefferson, George, Jefferson’s Isle of Man, G. Jefferson: Douglas 1840.
Radcliffe, William & Constance, A History of Kirk Maughold, Manx Museum: Douglas 1979.
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.
Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SK 5779 0644
Also Known as:
Little John’s Stone
Archaeology & History
Nichols 1804 drawing
This once impressive megalithic site was first mentioned in 1381, giving its name to the field Johnstone Close. Shown on the early Ordnance Survey maps standing on a raised portion of land in an area north of the modern town centre, not far from the Abbey, its destruction had been a slow one until it finally disappeared about a hundred years ago. One of the early descriptions of it was by John Nichols (1804) in his immense series of works on the county. He called it ‘Little John’s Stone’* and gave us the first known illustration of the monolith (right), telling it to be “7 feet 2 inches high, and 11 feet 3 inches wide”—although he obviously meant circumference and not ‘wide’, as his illustration clearly shows. Although this slight error was perhaps the reason that Historic England proclaimed the stone to have been little more than “a natural feature”—which it clearly wasn’t.
Stone shown on 1885 mapJohn Flower’s 1815 sketch
The stone stood in what Nichols called “a kind of amphitheatre”, and what James Hollings (1855) subsequently called a sloping hollow which, he thought, had “been excavated by the hand of man.” It was located “in a meadow, a little to the west of the Fosse-way,” he said, “not far from the ancient boundary wall of the Abbey of St. Mary de Pratis.” There’s little doubt it was a prehistoric standing stone. Hollings described it as standing erect and told it to be one of those “monolithic erections, or hoar stones, anciently sanctified by the rites of Druidic worship,” comparing it to “similar rude columns” in Cornwall, Scotland and just about everywhere! He also told that it was a place of summer solstice gatherings, being
“in the memory of many living, annually visited about the time of Midsummer by numerous parties from the town in pursuance of a custom of unknown antiquity.”
When James Kelly (1884) wrote about the stone, little was left of it save at ground level. He repeated much of what Hollings had previously written, but had a few notes of his own. One related to the local mayor and MP for Leicester, Mr Richard Harris, dated January 1853, who told him:
“When a boy, he had frequently played on the spot where it was customary for the children to resort to dance round the stone (which he thought was about eight feet high), to climb upon it and to roll down the hill by which the stone is in part, encircled. The children were careful to leave before dark, as it was believed that at midnight the fairies assembled and danced round the stone.”
More than fifty years later when Mrs Johnson (1906) wrote about the place she said that only a small section of the stone still remained, just “a few inches above the earth.” It had been incrementally “broken to pieces down to the surface of the ground and used to mend the road.” (Kelly 1884) Alice Dryden (1911) lamented its gradual demise in size, summarizing:
“At the beginning of the nineteenth century it was about 7 feet high, but by the year 1835 it had become reduced to about 3 feet. In 1874, according to the British Association’s Report, it was about 2 feet high, and it has now completely disappeared.”
Local tradition tells that some small pieces of St John’s Stone were moved to the nearby St. Luke’s church, where bits of it can still be seen. Has anyone found them?
More recent lore has attributed St John’s Stone to have been aligned with the Humber Stone (SK 62416 07095) nearly 3 miles to the east, in a summer solstice line—but it’s nowhere near it! A similar astronomical attempt said that the two stones lined up with the Beltane sunrise: this is a little closer, but it still doesn’t work. The equinox sunrise is closer still, but whether these two stones were even intervisible is questionable.
* this was probably the name it was known by local people who frequented the nearby Robin Hood public house (long gone); its saintly dedication being less important in the minds of Leicester’s indigenous folk.
References:
Cox, Barrie, The Place-Names of Leicestershire – volume 1, EPNS: Nottingham 1998.
Devereux, Paul, “The Forgotten Heart of Albion,” in The Ley Hunter, no.66, 1975.
Dryden, Alice, Memorials of Old Leicestershire, George Allen & Sons: London 1911.
Hollings, James Francis, Roman Leicester, LLPS: Leicester 1855.
Kelly, William, Royal Progresses and Visits to Leicester, Samuel Clarke: Leicester 1884.
Nichols, John, The History and Antiquities of Leicestershire – volume 3: part 2, J. Nichols: London 1804.
Trubshaw, Bob, Standing Stones and Markstones of Leicestershire, Heart of Albion Press 1991.
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.
OK—I’m cheating here, as I’ve not visited this site (bad of me!). The directions given here are from Harper’s 1876 Rambles in this area. He told that the stone “stands about 100 yards to the north of the march dyke betwixt Upper Ervie, now Ken-Ervie and Nether Ervie. There is little to indicate its whereabouts, but the visitor coming from Kenmure Bridge, and leaving the road on the left, opposite Ringour and Bennan farms, on the opposite side of Loch Ken, would come upon it without much trouble by following the march dyke half a mile up.” Basically, along the A713 just over 2 miles north of the bridge at Parton (½ mile before reaching the Galloway Activity Centre), 60 yards from the “Farm Access No Parking” spot, in the trees a long straight line of walling runs uphill. That’d be my route—straight up!
Archaeology & History
This is a curious entry that I’ve added without visiting the site; but as I might never get to see it I thought it should be displayed in the hope that others might check it out. The earliest literary reference to it is from Crosbie’s (1845) entry in the New Statistical Account, where he implies that the markings on the stone are not of Nature’s handiwork. In Malcolm Harper’s (1876) fine work exploring the history and folklore of this region, he gave us the first illustration of the stone, which looks suspiciously like elements that we find on cup-and-ring stones. Many years later when the Royal Commission (1914) lads followed up on Crosbie’s entry, they thought the markings were probably Nature’s handiwork. They told that:
“It is an irregular mass of outcropping rock about 3 feet in diameter, and bears on its surface certain depressed markings supposed to represent a cow’s foot, a horse-shoe, and impressions which might be made by a man’s foot and knee in the act of kneeling. The markings appear to be natural.”
But it’s the animistic elements and traditions here which are important and which gave the stone its very name…
Folklore
When Rev. W.G. Crosbie (1845) first wrote about this stone, he was narrating the tale told of it by local people, whose traditions were greatly neglected by the majority of writers at that time. Such stories should be preserved at all times, as they tell us more about the psychocosms of pre-industrial cultures. Here,
“On the farm of Arvie, there is a flat stone about three feet in diameter, on which are the marks of what might be supposed a cow’s foot, a horse shoe, the four nails on each side being very distinct, and the impression which might be made by a man’s foot and knee while he was in the act of kneeling, the knot of the garter being quite evident. The tradition connected with this remarkable stone, commonly called the ‘Cow Clout,’ is, that the proprietor, in order to get up arrears of rent, “drave the pun,” or in other words, carried off the hypothecated stock, while a fierce resistance was made by the people, and that over this stone, on which a man had just been praying for relief against his enemies, the cattle passed followed by an officer on horseback, and that it remains as a memorial to posterity of the cruel deed.”
If someone in that neck o’ the woods can find out if the stone’s still there and perhaps send us a photo, or stick it on our Facebook group, that’d be great! 🙂
References:
Coles, Fred, “The Recent Cup and Ring Mark Discoveries in Kirkcudbrightshire”, in Proceedings Dumfriesshire & Galloway Natural History and Antiquarian Society, volume 5, 1888.
Crosbie, W.G., “Parish of Parton,” in New Statistical Account of Scotland – volume 4, William Blackwood: Edinburgh 1845.
Harper, Malcolm M., Rambles in Galloway, Edmonston & Douglas: Edinburgh 1876.
Royal Commission Ancient & Historical Monuments & Constructions of Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in Galloway – volume 2: County of the Stewatry of Kirkcudbrightshire , HMSO: Edinburgh 1914.
In Hawksworth village, less than 100 yards past the primary school, take the footpath on your left into the open fields. 200 yards down the fields, go over the stile on your right, into the next field and walk diagonally across it (SW) for 250 yards until you reach the wall; then walk alongside it, west, for another 150 yards where the walling goes due south and walk down here for 135 yards, going through the gate at the bottom into the next field and, at the bottom of this one go through the gate and bear right. OK, now walk along the wall-side for 55 yards and you’re just about standing on it! Alternatively you can reach it via the Hawksworth Spring (1) and (4) carvings, following the wall along for roughly 150 yards till you reach the gate. Go through here and walk diagonally NNW across the field for nearly 150 yards where you’ll see the stone stuck out in front of the wall.
Archaeology & History
My first sight of this came about as I walked alongside the walling. Approaching the stone, I noticed what looked like a recent cup-like marking with a curved line emerging from it on its eastern surface; but it didn’t look too old and was more like the scratch-marks you see sometimes when farmers have been dragging rocks along to be used in walling. So I shrugged in slight disappointment—until the far-side, the western-side of the stone came into view.
Line of cupsMain scatter of cups
Sloping ever-so-slightly down into the ground, the surface of the stone had a cluster of quite worn, shallow, but distinct cup-markings between one and two inches across, four of which ran in a line from the top to the edge of the stone in a slight curve. As I walked round it, looking from different angles, it became obvious that two or three other cups existed—mainly from the top to the western side of the rock. One seemed to exist near the edge, whilst two other faint ones sat to the side of the line-of-four—almost creating a square formation. From some angles it looked as if there may be faint lines running between some of the cups but (as usual) the sunlight didn’t really help highlight them and they could just be faded erosion lines.
Looking down at the cupsWater & sunlight & cups
It was obvious that a section of the stone on its southern edge had been broken off in the not-too-distant past, raising the idea that the design may originally have been larger than its present form. This thought returned when I walked another 60 yards west along the wall and came across a broken section of stone that had been placed into it, pretty recently, and on its vertical face noticed a single cup-mark in a good state of preservation, indicating that it had either been cut recently or instead been dug out of the ground not too long ago and shown intself to the world after a sleep of several millenia. Look at it when you have a gander at the main carving here and make up your own mind….
Take the same directions as if you’re going to visit the Hawksworth Spring (1) carving. From here, the small footpath at its side keeps going uphill, curving to the right and following the line of walling. After about 20 yards where the land begins to level out, keep your eyes peeled for a small elongated earthfast rock, less than three feet long, just to the left of the path and only three or four yards away from the wall. If the leaves have covered the stone, get on your hands and knees and scrub around a bit. You’ll find it!
Archaeology & History
Primary cup-marking
This was a frustrating find as there are several elements on the stone, only one of which I could be 100% certain about – and that’s the singular cup-marking on the top-left of the stone. Just next to this is what looks to be another one, unfinished, cut into a natural fissure in the rock—but the daylight was frustrating, allowing only glimpses of visual clarity on the stone. At the other end of the stone, as the photo shows, are what stand out as two or three more cup-marks, but these seem geophysical in nature—although examples such as these scatter the works of Boughey & Vickerman (2003; 2018) as authentic, which shows the problem we all have as rock art students. Anyhow, at least one of these cups is the real deal. I’ll let the computer-tech lads sort the rest of it out for us…
Once you’ve located the carvings of Hawksworth Spring (1) and (2), walk up the slope towards the topmost section of the walling where the land begins to level out. Hereby you’ll see the Hawksworth Spring (4) carving (if it’s not covered in leaves) several yards below the wall. Turn around and look diagonally to your left, into the trees, where you need to walk into and beneath the overhanging holly branches. Here you’ll reach the large earthfast rock whose edge rests up against the trunk of a larger tree. You can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
Notable curious “cups”
I’m not 100% convinced that this a prehistoric design, despite it being listed as such in Boughey & Vickerman’s (2003) survey—although, to be fair, they do suggest it as being “doubtful.” The two most notable so-called “cups” have more of a recent hallmark to them and the other elements are troublesome to see with any certainty, but they may be geophysical in nature. Their description of it told us this was a “fairly large fine-grained rock with some included pebbles. Two pairs of cups, one pair connected by groove”. Make of it what you will….
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
First mentioned in place-name records from 1409, this seemingly lost sacred well could be found in the south-side of St. Leodegarius’s churchyard. It was filled-in sometime in the 19th century when the ground around it collapsed to some considerable depth, so the hole was covered. Despite this, water kept re-appearing on and off over the decades and, in Bob Morrell’s (1988) holy wells survey, he told that following constant heavy rains in 1987, it was filled in for the last time.
References:
Bailey, Thomas, Annals of Nottinghamshire, Simpkin Marshall: London 1853.
Gover, J.E.B., Mawer, Allen & Stenton, F.M., The Place-Names of Nottinghamshire, Cambridge University Press 1940.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – 3 volumes, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Morrell, Robert, Nottinghamshire Holy Wells and Springs, Nottingham 1988.
Robin Hood wells are numerous in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, but finding them in this neck o’ the woods is unusual (a Robin Hood’s Farm can be found nearly 14 miles south). The waters here would have had obvious importance for local peasant folk in bygone centuries, perhaps with scatterings of Beltane and Midsummer rites hereby; but it seems that records are silent on such matters. The only reference I can find of this place is in Bracken’s (1860) fascinating work on Sutton Coldfield, where he told that,
“At the extremity of the parish, near Pype, a little field is still called the Bowbearer’s Croft. Tradition says two officers of the chase, bowbearers, had a lodge there; and that their duty was to guide the travellers across the wild country. A very old cottage, that had been well built, was removed from the croft in 1828. In that neighbourhood was a fountain, called Robin Hood’s well, now enclosed within the grounds of Penns, where the natural beauties of the situation have been judiciously displayed and improved by the taste of the late proprietor, Joseph Webster.”
Marshy ground to the east of Pype Hall fed the large pond, which is one contender for the site of this lost well. What has become of it? A search in the local library archives for any old manorial maps, or the field-name maps showing Bowbearer’s would prove truly helpful in relocating this site.
References:
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.