The original stone monolith that stood here has long since been destroyed (by christians arguing amongst themselves) and the ornate edifice that we see today was erected in 1859 to commemorate the marriage of Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter, Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa, to Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia. Standing more than 52 feet tall, it is of a neo-Gothic design and is one of the tallest crosses in the country. Originally there were going to be six carved statues cut into the niches of the cross, but this was later reduced to three.
First mentioned in place-name records from 1478, the original stone cross was itself very prominent, rising some 20 feet tall and sitting upon a square base of eight steps. It was described by John Leland in his Itinerary when he visited the town sometime between 1535 and 1545, who said:
“At the west part of the street…is a large area, having a goodly cross with many degrees (steps) about it. In this area is kept every Thursday a very celebrated market.”
The old cross was also a site where public notices and proclamations were dispensed to local people and seems to have been an old meeting place. Whether it had a prehistoric predecessor isn’t known.
Folklore
The nursery rhyme we’ve all recited when we were kids and growing-up, has much of its origins around this ornate edifice and in the 20th century was thought to have its origins in pre-christian practices hereby, but this is questionable. The rhyme, to those who don’t know it, goes:
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse,
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes.
As Kirsten Ayles (1973) told:
“This rhyme was first recorded in 1784, but it probably originated much earlier. The Banbury Cross mentioned was destroyed at the turn of the 16th century by the Puritan inhabitants of Banbury. It has been suggested that “bells on her toes” points to the fifteenth century, when a bell was worn on the long tapering shoe of each shoe. It has (also) been thought that the “fine lady” was Queen Elizabeth I, or Lady Godiva.”
Another option identifying the “fine lady” in the rhyme is perhaps a member of the Fiennes family, ancestors of Lord Saye and Sele who owns nearby Broughton Castle.
References:
Ayles, Kirsten, “A Short History of Nursery Rhymes,” in This England, 6:3, Autumn 1973.
Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire (2 volumes), Cambridge University Press 1954.
Vallance, Aymer, Old Crosses and Lychgates, Batsford: London 1920.
Acknowledgements:
To Ronald Goodearl, for use of his 1973 photograph of the Banbury Cross.
The isle of Boreray is four miles northeast of Hirta and here once lived, according to legend, a christian hermit. However in the reverend Kenneth Macaulay History of St. Kilda (1764), he told us that the character was actually a druid. Take your pick! The druid lived at Stallir House, adjacent to which, said Macaulay, was
“a large circle of huge stones fixed perpendicularly in the ground, at equal distances from one and other, with one more remarkable regular in the centre which is flat in the top and one would think sacred in a more eminent degree.”
In a later article by F.L.W. Thomas (1867) he also mentioned this ‘stone circle’, though indicated its decline. Additional information on this little known stone is sparse due to its somewhat remote position on one of the uninhabited isles of St. Kilda. I wouldn’t mind spending a month or two there, roughing it, to see what’s what!
References:
Macaulay, Kenneth, The History of St. Kilda. Containing a Description of This Remarkable Island; the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants; the Religious and Pagan Antiquities There Found, T. Becket: London 1764.
From the north side of Killin, take the minor road next to the Bridge of Lochay Hotel at Killin, past the hydroelectric station, through the wooded section until the fields open out again. The first gorgeous old house you come to is on the right-hand side of the road. Stop here! (I could really do with living here misself – tis a truly superb place!) You can ask the lady at the house where the carvings are and she’s very happy to point them out – they’re on the rocky crag near the bottom-end of the field on the other side of the road.
Archaeology & History
R.W.B. Morris sketch of the main carvings
What a brilliant setting and clump of carvings we have here! As you get to the rocky hillock in the field, you see that there are numerous rocks visible along the ridge, a number of which have carvings on them – some with just cups, but most possess a number of cup-and-rings. It’s an excellent spot! Depending on the time of year when you come here will determine whether or not you get a better look at the carvings or not. I’d recommended April and May as the best time, as the vegetation is at its lowest then. Visiting the site near the end of summer doesn’t give you as good a view — but even then, if you like your rock art, you’ll still love it! The rocks here are mainly quartzite schist, with a number of the surfaces being almost pure quartz. Intriguingly, none of the pure quartz sections appear to have been carved on.
The carvings here were first mentioned in an article by D. Haggart (1895), who described them as “a very remarkable set of incised rock sculptures…discovered lately in this neighbourhood by Mr John McNaughton.” And remarkable they are indeed! In Ronald Morris’ (1981) survey of this site — which he labelled Duncroisk 1 — he counted eight separate rock surfaces that had been carved, marking them as carvings a-h, but there are at least eleven of them here; and in all honesty, if we could strip the surface of the hill of its vegetation, we’d probably find a few more hidden away!
Cup-marked stone
As you’ve walked across the field from the road, past the first unrecorded cup-marked stone near the start of the rocky rise, we reach Mr Morris’s ‘stone A’ near the easternmost end of the ridge, which is just a small slab of stone with “at least 6 cup-marks” on its surface. It’s easily missed in poor light, so watch out. However, if you reach ‘stone b’ (described below), just walk back ten steps and you’ll see it.
Carved Stone B
Ten yards west is ‘Stone B’, seemingly split into two sections, whereupon we find “a cup-and-two-rings and at least 12 cups-and-one-ring, up to 19cm in diameter – some rings gapped, others not, some with and some without a radial groove from the cup, and some with a “runner” or cup in a ring. There are also at least 58 cups” on this section of rock. ‘Stone C’ can also be missed, this time due to its size and the fact that the larger cup-marked surfaces are ahead of you. But assuming you don’t miss it, this carving consists of “a well-preserved cup-and-two-complete-rings 25cm in diameter, and a cup.”
Carved Stone D
‘Stone D’ is just next to ‘stone C’, but with rather more ornate designs etched upon it. This is one of the more archetypal petroglyph designs that are found in the photo-guides and textbooks. Morris (1981) told that it consisted “of a cup-and-two-complete-rings and 2 cups-and-one-complete-ring up to 20cm in diameter, also a cup-and-one-complete-ring and 2 cups.” The photo here shows it pretty clearly.
Carved Stone ECurious ‘bowl’, top-centre
‘Stone E’ is the next one along, just a foot or two away and Mr Morris (1981) told that the carving consists of “2 cups-and-one-ring up to 13cm in diameters, 1 complete, the others gapped, joined by groove to a cup, and at least 33 cups (C.G. Cash counted 42 in 1911).” Most of the carved elements on this rock are around the edges of the stone. A very large faded circular depression, man-made, is also visible on this section of the petroglyph (above left), suggestive of lunar symbolism.
Carved Stone F
‘Stone F’ is less than 10 yards further west and has the greatest number of cup-markings of the entire group here, as Morris described: “3 cups-and-one-complete-ring up to 9cm in diameter, and at least 80 cups, a few of which are widely scattered over a big area sloping steeply further south, beyond the attached diagram.” It’s perhaps the most notable of the carved rocks along the ridge here — not by virtue of its design, more its geological physique than anything else.
Carved stone G
‘Stone G’ is next along and has a curious look about it, suggestive of more modern times. At first sight it doesn’t seem to have quite the magnitude that Morris’ description affords it, but on closer inspection by rolling some of the covering turf back away from the rock, you can see what he meant. This stone has “10 cups-and-one-complete-ring, up to 10cm diameter…and also 15 cups.” One of the cup-and-rings on this section was found by Morris to have been “the smallest so far recorded by the author in Scotland.”
Then we reach ‘stone H’ at the eastern end of the carved ridge, consisting of simply 3 cup-markings. One of them has a faint arc pecked around it. Further along the rock, a complete cup-and-ring is visible close to the edge.
This entire line of petroglyphs is a fine place in a fine setting, perfect for meditative practices! Other carvings can be found close by: Duncroisk 3 is a coupla hundred yards east across the field just over the fence by the riverside; and Duncroisk 2 is on the other side of the fence down towards the River Lochay on the same side of the adjacent burn less than 100 yards away (though this is trickier to reach). Other prehistoric sites can be found not too far away…
Folklore
Local people tell of having seen curious lights flitting along the edges of the field, river Lochay and roadside close to the carved rocks hereby.
Cross (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – c. SD 881 353
Archaeology & History
Not included in the magnum opus of Henry Taylor (1906), the exact position of this long lost site remains unknown, as even the investigative abilities of Clifford Byrne couldn’t track it down! It was erected in a region full of pre-christian remains and (at the time) living remnants of heathen folklore and practices between Worsthorne and Nelson. Mr Byrne (1974) described his search for the place, saying:
“This cross is of ancient origin and no part of it now remains as far as can be ascertained by investigation, although the memory of it certainly remains, for an elderly gentleman living in the cottages of Holt Hill, Briercliffe, said instantly on being asked about he cross that he had often heard it referred to by older people when he was a boy, although he could not say exactly where in the hamlet the monolith had stood. We are told that the cross is mentioned in a document in the year 1313 when Robert Briercliffe granted away the Sene intacks in the Holt Hill as it lay by Annot Cross on the south side. This implies that it stood on the south side of the road (between) Thursden and Haggate, which is an old road from Burnley to Halifax…”
This would give a rough grid reference for its position around SD 881 353, but nothing appears to be there. However, Byrne told of another intriguing bitta folklore a short distance away which may have had some relevance to the positioning of the cross.
“Down the road to Lane Bottoms, behind some bungalows, is a stone shaft in a depression in a meadow which we are told is an ancient standing stone. Whether this is so is not easy to ascertain for the stone has apparently been used as a gatepost at some time, and further gives indication of having been utilised as a cattle rubbing post.”
Below here we find the old place-name ‘Burwains,’ which clearly indicate a site of a prehistoric burial, though nothing remains of such a place — officially at least. Perhaps a couple of ventures in and around this area need to be done! One final note that Byrne made related to the title of this lost cross, saying:
“The name “Annot” may be of Saxon origin, for the Saxon word annet means solitude, and this would have certainly fitted the area in ages past.”
References:
Byrne, Clifford, A Survey of the Ancient Wayside Crosses in North-East Lancashire, unpublished report 1974.
Taylor, Henry, The Ancient Crosses and Holy Wells of Lancashire, Sherratt & Hughes: Manchester 1906.
From the village of Midgley, high above the A646 Halifax-to-Todmorden road, travel west along the moorland road until you reach the sharp-ish bend in the road, with steep wooded waterfall to your left and the track up to the disused quarry of Foster Clough. Go up the Foster Clough track for 100 yards and, when you reach the gate in front of you, go over it but follow the line of the straight walling uphill by the stream-side (instead of following the path up the quarries) all the way to the top. Here you’ll see the boundary stone of Churn Milk Joan.
Archaeology & History
The present large standing stone you see before you isn’t prehistoric. However, the small broken piece on the ground by its side may have been its prehistoric predecessor; and there is certainly something of an archaic nature here — albeit a contentious one — as we find old cup-markings cut into its eastern face.
Two ‘cup-marks’ on eastern face
The upright is roughly squared and faces the cardinal points. It was described in Mr Heginbottom’s (1977) unpublished survey on Calderdale rock art, where he described there being a few cup-markings inscribed on its east- and south-facing edges, some of which may be prehistoric — though they would obviously have had to have been carved upon the upright stone when it still lay earth-fast. However, we must posit the the notion (unless some of you have better ideas) that the tradition of etching cup-marks onto rocks was still occurring in this part of Yorkshire until the late Middle Ages, as this stone was, as we know from boundary records, only placed upright to mark the meeting of the three boundaries of Wadsworth, Hebden Royd and Sowerby.
Churn Milk Joan’s other name, Saville’s Low, originates from the great Saville family who owned great tracts of land across the region in the fourteenth century, possibly when the Churn Milk Joan we see today was created. The word “lowe” may derive from the old word meaning, “moot or gathering place,” which this great stone probably served as due to its siting at the junction of the three townships.*
Folklore
In modern times the stone has become a focus for a number of local pagans and New Agers who visit and ‘use’ the site in their respective ways at certain times of the day, albeit estranged (ego-bound) from the original mythic nature of the site.
The name of the stone comes from an old legend about a milk-maid named Joan who, whilst carrying milk across the moors between Luddenden and Pecket Well, got caught in a blizzard and froze to death. When her body was found many days later, the stone we see here today was erected to commemorate the spot where she died. Although such a scenario is quite likely on these hills, as Andy Roberts (1992) said,
“Considering the sheer amount of sites with similar legends this explanation is unlikely to be true and we should looker deeper for the meaning behind Churn Milk Joan, to be found in its positioning in the landscape and ourindividual feelings about it.” [see profiles for the Two Lads and the Lad o’ Crow Hill sites)
The monolith’s other title, Churnmilk Peg, is the name given to an old hag who is said to be the guardian of nut thickets. How this female sprite came to find her abode upon these high hills is somewhat of an enigma, but it was first stated as such in an article by Andy Roberts (1989) in “Northern Earth Mysteries” magazine. E.M. Wright (1913) noted this supernatural creature in her work on folk dialect, describing it as a West Yorkshire elemental who, along with another one known as Melsh Dick:
“are wood-demons supposed to protect soft, unripe nuts from being gathered by naughty children, the former being wont to beguile her leisure by smoking a pipe.”
Another legend of the stone tells how it is said to spin round three times on New Year’s Eve when it hears the sound of the midnight bells at St. Michael’s church (St. Michael was a dragon-slayer) at Mytholmroyd in the valley below. Another piece of folklore tells that coins used to be left in a small hollow at the very top of the stone which, according to Haslem (1981), was “a gift to the spirit world, to bring luck” – a common folk motif. It may equally originate from the custom of it as a plague stone. This tradition of leaving coins atop of the stone is still perpetuated by some local folk.
Mr Haslem also made some interesting remarks about the nature of Churn Milk Joan standing as a boundary stone, representing something which stands not just as a physical boundary, but as a boundary point between this and the Other- or spirit world. In folklore, streams and rivers commonly carry this theme. But here on Midgley Moor, as a standing stone at the junction of three boundaries, we may be looking at the place as an omphalos: a centre point from which the manifold worlds unfold. (see Almscliffe Crags, the Ashlar Chair and the Hitching Stone)
The other motif here, of milk and snow [both white], have been speculated to represent power of the sun at midwinter, and geomantically we find the position of the stone in the landscape exemplifying this: it stands midway in the moorland scenery facing south, the direction of solar power, yet is bounded as an equinox marker from east and west. The winter tales it has nestled around it are merely complementary occult augurs of its more wholesome elements at this point in the hills.
There is however, another much more potent element that has not been conveyed about the site and its folklore—and one which has more authenticity and primary animistic quality. Regardless of ‘Joan’ or ‘Peg’ being the elemental preserved in the landscape title, the ‘churning’ in its name and the ‘spinning’ of the stone in myth at the end of one year and the start of the next at New Year, are folk memories of traditional creation myths that speak of the cyclical seasons endlessly perpetuated year after year after year, in what Mircea Eliade (1954) called the ‘myth of the eternal return.’ As season follows season in the folk myths of our ancestors, everything related to the natural world: a world inhabited (as it still is) by feelings and intuitions learned from an endless daily encounter, outdoors, with the streams, hills, gales, snow and fires. Their entire cosmology, as with aboriginal people the world over, saw the cycles of the year as integral parts of their daily lives. Here, at Churn Milk Joan with its central landscape position along an ancient boundary, the churning and turning of the year was commemorated and mythologized year after year after year; with maybe even the Milky Way being part of the ‘milk’ in its title, from which, in the shamanistic worlds that were integral to earlier society, the gods themselves emerged and came down to Earth.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Eliade, Mircea, The Myth of the Eternal Return, Bollingen 1954.
Haslem, Michael, “Churn Milk Joan: A Boundary Stone on Midgley Moor,” in Wood and Water, 1:8, 1980.
Heginbottom, J.A., “The Prehistoric Rock Art of Upper Calderdale and the Surrounding Area,” Yorkshire Archaeology Society 1977.
Ogden, J.H., “A Moorland Township: Wadsworth in Ancient Times,” Proceedings of the Halifax Antiquarian Society, 1904.
Robert, Andy, “Our Last Meeting,” in NEM 37, 1989.
Robert, Andy, Ghosts and Legends of Yorkshire, Jarrold: Sheffield 1992.
Wright, Elizabeth Mary, Rustic Speech and Folk-Lore, Oxford University Press 1913.
* The great stone at the cente of the Great Skirtful of Stones, Burley Moor, which previously stood at the centre of the Grubstones Circle, was just such a moot stone. Upon it is carved the words “This is Rumble’s Lawe”.
Go through the village of Stanbury, past the last of the two reservoirs until you’re on the western edge of Ponden. Stop and look up the slopes to your south. This spot was recently found and photographed by Richard Stroud: a curious-looking mound with all the hallmarks of being a forgotten tumulus. We’ve gotta check it out properly though!
Folklore
Although not in the archaeological records (not too unusual in Yorkshire it seems), the site does have some literary references and some all-too-common folklore motifs. Perusing my library for info about another nearby site (the Cuckoo Stones), I found the following said of this place in a rare book by James Whalley called The Wild Moor (1869, pp.103):
“It appears that some hills, as well as dales…have silvery names. There is a hill which is on the right hand on the way from Ponden House to Crow Hill Moor, which is distinguished by the beautiful designation of ‘Silver Hill.’ The hill is surrounded by a wall (I suppose to guard the treasure) and its surface is adorned with trees. Grey-headed men living on the borders of Crow Hill and Lancashire Moors affirm that during the Scotch rebellion here was deposited a large chest of silver, which was hid in the hill. It would appear as if the chest of silver is still there!”
This tradition was echoed a decade later by J. Horsfall Turner, and then again by Halliwell Sutcliffe in 1899, who reckoned the “vast treasure was said to have been buried during the ’45 rebellion,” adding how “the fields which climb this hill were well tilled aforetime through being constantly turned over in search of the treasure” – but nowt was ever found.
An additional bit of folklore tells of two spirits nearby: one of a man; another of a fiery barrel — either a remnant of earlier solar folk traditions hereby, or perhaps just an earthlight. One of these (the fiery barrel) rolled down the hill nearby; whereby the ghost of the man walked by the hillock along the track from Ponden House a little further east.
References:
Horsfall-Turner, J., Haworth Past and Present, J.S. Jowett: Brighouse 1879.
Sutcliffe, Halliwell, By Moor and Fell in West Yorkshire, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1899.
Cup-and-Ring Stone: OS Grid Reference – NM 027 487
Also Known as:
Kettle Stone
Ringing Stone
Singing Stone
Archaeology & History
This is a fascinating large coastal boulder with around 53 cup-markings on it — but whether these are all man-made is a matter of debate. Some of them may be natural. However some of the cups have lines and faint rings around them, showing that at least they’re man-made; and also in one of the large cups are placed small pebbles, similar in form to the well-known Butter Rolls, or bullaun stone at Feaghna, Ireland.
Folklore
This large boulder (suggested to have been dragged and dropped here from the Isle of Rhum in an earlier Ice Age) is known in the modern tongue as the ‘Ringing Stone’ because, allegedly, if you knock the surface hard with another stone it supposedly chimes with a metallic noise. As one of the links below shows, however, it doesn’t necessarily do the trick! Local folklore tells that if the stone is ever destroyed, or falls off its present platform of smaller stones, Tiree itself will sink beneath the waves. Other lore tells that this great rock is hollow; and another that it contains a great treasure. According to Otta Swire (1964),
“Some believe this to be a treasure of gold, others claim it to be the resting place of the Feinn who there await the call to rescue Scotland.”
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – volume 3: Mull, Tiree, Coll and Northern Argyll, HMSO: Edinburgh 1980.
Swire, Otta F., Inner Hebrides and their Legends, Collins: London 1964.
This was another example of the many giant cairns that scatter the upland moors on the Pennines, but much of it has been destroyed, with some halfwits in recent years cutting a track right through whatever remains there might have been! It was first described in John Watson’s (1776) essay on the local antiquities of Bradfield and district where, in relative conjunction with the curious Bar Dike, he told that “this is not the only curiosity on this common.” He continued: “there is on one part of it a large carnedde, called by the country people the Apron-full of Stones”, where he conjectured there laid a British tribal chief after he’d been slaughtered by the Romans. This might have been the folklore of the place, but we know such places were thousands of years earlier than the Romans.
It was later described in Joseph Hunter’s Hallamshire (1819) as a giant barrow, or ‘vast carnedde’, even then in the past tense; but some recent investigation here found “a few small stones and some lumpy turf which looked to be covering a few clumped stones.” The site requires further investigation by local people to assess the state of damage inflicted on this once great tomb.
Folklore
Said to have been the site of a local battle in ancient times; this is also another site which, as A.H. Smith (1961) tells, “is explained in folklore by tales of the devil undertaking some major building project and tripping up, only to deposit his apronful of stones” here. Does anyone out there have any more info on this place?
References:
Hunter, Joseph, Hallamshire: The History and Topography of the Parish of Sheffield in the County of York, Lackington: London 1819.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire, Cambridge University Press 1961-63.
Watson, John, “An Account of some Hitherto Undescribed Remains of Antiquity”, in Archaeologia, volume 5, 1776.
This is an awesome beast! You can either approach it from Nettlehole Ridge ‘stone circle’ as I did, or take the more sensible approach and begin from Embsay village, walking up the path towards Embsay reservoir and onto the moorland heights of Crookrise Crag, 1350 feet above sea level. Worra view! But keep walking a little more, downhill, and it’ll hit you right in the face!
Archaeology & History
Fairy’s Chest, Embsay Moor
Known as an abode of the little people in the 19th century and shown on the earliest Ordnance Survey map of the region, I know of no previous accounts of this giant elongated boulder, forty feet long and nearly the same size as our legendary Hitching Stone that’s nestled below the small cliffs. The boulder is surrounded by what seems like cairn-material on all sides (though it doesn’t look prehistoric). You’re looking straight west from here, right at the three small paps of Sharp Haw, Rough Haw and Flasby Fell. If you like huge rocky outcrops, this (and others nearby) will make your day!
Folklore
Said to have been the abode of the little people in ages gone by; though even an old chap we met on our wander here told us how the legends it once held “have died with the old folk it seems.”
Takes a bitta getting to this spot, but it’s worth the effort! Make a day of it and walk up here via the little-known Cuckoo Stones monoliths. From here the walk gets steeper! Follow the footpath from the standing stones, uphill, to the legendary Wuthering Heights building of Bronte-fame a half-mile ahead of you. Then walk immediately up the slope at the side of the derelict house higher onto the moor (there’s no real footpath to follow) until the moorland levels out. From here, look west and walk that way for a few hundred yards where you’ll be seeing a large rock outcrop ahead of you. That’s where you’re heading! (if you reach the triangulation pillar, take the small path from there along the top of the moor towards this large rock outcrop)
Archaeology & History
Alcomden’s Altar Stone
To those of you who like a bitta wilderness, or healthy normal people I suppose, this is a stunning place! Even though there’s little by way of archaeology here — save the usual expectations of a few flints and arrowheads — its geomancy, its position in the landscape, makes it excel as a once important ritual site for our ancestors in not-so-distant centuries. Although local tradition gave these great rocks a prehistoric pedigree, the archaeological record doesn’t say as much — but that doesn’t really mean much up here. We’ve found a singular Bronze Age cairn on the level at Middle Moor Flat 400 yards northwest (not in the record books), some prehistoric walling on the flat east of here (not in the record books), so a lot more attention is needed hereby to see what more may be hiding in this rocky heathland area.
The main feature amidst this extensive scattering of rocks is the large rocking stone, said to weigh six- or seven-tons, resting upon other glacial deposits. The rock itself can be made to rock very slightly. It was described in Lewis’ Topographical Dictionary as a
“cromlech, an evident druidical remain, (which) consists of one flat stone, weight about six tons, placed horizontally upon two huge upright blocks.”
But the placement here was done by Nature and not humans — making it much more important to our ancestors. This was a site for solace, for ritual and to commune with the gods themselves. A few visits to this place show this quite clearly — unless you’re unable to relax that is! It’s a place I wanna spend more time working with, as the mythic history around these stones feels strong, despite their absence from written records.
The ‘altar’ resting on rocksAlcomden’s “altar”
The druidic sentiments espoused by Lewis were all but echoed by our otherwise sober historian, J. Horsfall Turner, in his history of Haworth (1879), where he describes the Alcomden Stones as “the remains of a Druid’s Altar.” On top of the main ‘altar stone’ are what could be ascribed as worn cup-markings, but it seems they’re Nature’s handiwork once again; though this wouldn’t deny them as having some significance to our ancestors. A number of other boulders amidst this mass of rocks also have what seem like cup-markings, but none of them can be said with any certainty to have been carved by people. Indeed, the entirety of this legendary rock outcrop seems to have been created solely by the spirits of Nature.
View of Earth, from Alcomden
It was first described as ‘Alconley’ in 1371, then in the 1379 Poll Tax returns as ‘Halcom’, the etymology of which is difficult. Al- is a cliff or rock, many of which occur here; den is certainly a valley, over which we look to the northeast (to Ponden Kirk, 500 yards away); but the central element of ‘com‘ is the greatest puzzle. Blakeborough (1911) tells of the old Yorkshire word ‘con’ — found in the 1371 spelling — meaning “to scan, or observe critically,” which one can certainly apply here in a topographical sense, i.e., “observation stones above a valley.” It’s simple, succinct, and makes sense!
Folklore
As Elizabeth Southwart (1923) rightly said,
“Our forefathers, instinct and imagination more highly developed than knowledge, peopled their woods with fairies and their valleys with ghosts. On the high, wind-swept spaces they built their altars to Unknown Gods.”
Turner’s 1913 drawing
And such she thought was done at this “heap of rocks called Oakenden Stones.” It seems likely, as this place is superb for ritual magick and meditative systems. But all we have are the repeats of numerous old historians, from Whiteley Turner (1913) and his namesake J. Horsfall, to James Whalley, J.W. Parker and more, who recorded what the old locals said: that is was a place of the druids. There may be a grain of truth in it somewhere…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Blakeborough, Richard, Wit, Character, Folklore and Customs of the North Riding of Yorkshire, W. Rapp: Saltburn 1911.
Parker, J.W., Guide to the Bronte Country, J.W. Parker: Haworth n.d. (c.1971)
Southwart, Elizabeth, Bronte Moors and Villages: From Thornton to Haworth, John Lane Bodley Head: London 1923.
Turner, J. Horsfall, Haworth, Past and Present, Hendon Mill: Nelson 1879.
Turner, Whiteley, A Spring-Time Saunter round and about Bronte Lane, Halifax Courier 1913.
