Devil’s Den, Clatford, Wiltshire

Cromlech:  OS Grid Reference – SU 15209 69651

Also Known as:

  1. Devils Den
  2. Dillion Dene

Getting Here

Devil’s Den, Wiltshire

When Pete Glastonbury brought us here, we walked east out of the Avebury stone circle and up the Wessex Ridgeway track.  When you hit the “crossroads” at the top of the rise a mile along, go across the stile into the grasslands for a few hundred yards till you hit the obviously-named “Gallops” racecourse-looking stretch.  Walk down for a few hundred yards till you hit a footpath on your left that takes you across and down grasslands that takes you slowly into the valley bottom.  You’re damn close!

Otherwise (and I aint done this route!), walk up the footpath straight north from Clatford village, up the small valley for about 1km.  You’ll eventually see this great stone heap in the field on your left!

Archaeology & History

I was brought here one fine day last year in the company of PeteG (our guide for the day), Geoff, June and Mikki Potts.  Twas a fine foray exploring the various prehistoric sites on the lands east of Avebury — but it was my very first venture to this site, the Devil’s Den — and a grand one it was indeed!  Standing close to the small valley bottom a couple of miles east of the great stone circle, this megalithic monument is thought to be neolithic in origin.

When H.J. Massingham (1926) came here, the day and spirit of the place must have felt fine, as he described,

“its three uprights and capstone stand forlornly in the midst of an alien sea of ploughland swinging its umber ripples to the foot of a stone isle, drifted nearly four thousand years from the happy potencies of its past.”

And, on many good times here no doubt, for many people, such feelings still hold…

A.C. Smith’s Devil’s Den
Colt Hoare’s Devil’s Den

It was described by the President for the Council of British Archaeology, Paul Thomas (1976), “as a setting of four sarsen uprights with a capstone”, whereby four uprights have not been noticed here since very early times.  Not sure how old he was though!  Today the very large capstone weighing upwards of 20 tons rests gently upon just two very bulky upright monoliths.  A third is laid amidst the great tomb , overgrown and sleepy, touching one of the two uprights….

The cromlech itself seems to have once been part of a lengthy mound that was covered in earth, “about 230ft long and 120ft broad, now virtually removed by ploughing.”  On top of the great capstone are at least two cup-markings: one of them with a possible oval-shaped line carved out onto the edge of the rock (similar to the C-shaped carving on the nearby Fyfield Down cup-marked stone), but this needs looking at in various lights so we can ascertain whether it has a geological or artificial origin.

Stukeley’s Devil’s Den

Suggested by Edwin Kempson (1953) and also by Aubrey Burl (2002) and other dialect and place-name students to have originally been called Dillion Dene — “the boundary marker in the valley” — this collapsed chambered tomb has had many literary visitors, from William Stukeley onwards.  When the reverend Smith wrote his great tome in 1885, he gave an assessment of those who came before him, saying:

“This is a noble specimen of the Kistvaen: it stands erect in its original position, only denuded of the mound of earth which, I venture to say (on the authority of the Rev. W.C. Lukis and others best acquainted with these remains) at one time invariably covered them: and this massive erection of ponderous stones is known as the ‘Devil’s Den’, and offers an exceedingly fine specimen of the kistvaen to those who have not made the acquaintance of these ancient sepulchres in other counties.  It is not only perfect in condition, but of very grand dimensions; moreover, it is well known to everybody who takes the slightest interest in Wiltshire antiquities… Stukeley says very little of this kistvaen, though he gives several plates of it (in Abury Described), his only remark being: “An eminent work of this sort in Clatford Bottom, between Abury and Marlborough.”  Sir R. Hoare (in Ancient Wiltshire, North) is more enthusiastic, he says: “From Marlborough I proceed along the turnpike road  as far as the Swan public house in the parish of Clatford, and then diverge into the fields on the right, where, in a retired valley amongst the hills, is a most beautiful and well-preserved kistvaen, vulgarly call’d the ‘Devil’s Den.’  It has been erroneously described as a cromlech.  From the elevated ground on which this stone monument is placed, it is evident that it was intended as a aprt annexed to the sepulchral mound, and erected probably at the east end of it, according to the usual custom of primitive times.””

In more recent years, Terence Meaden (1999) has suggested that the Devil’s Den may actually have been a simple cromlech and never had any covering mound of earth.  In his Secrets of the Avebury Stones he described how,

“The vertical megaliths must have been set up firmly first and then, quite possibly, a mound was raised outside and between them.  A very long ramp could have been built next, along which the capstone was dragged until it lay on top of the vertical monoliths, after which both mound and ramp would be removed as far as possible.  Such an operation, if correct, would explain why the stones of Devil’s Den now stand on an obviously artificial eminence; and why the much-spread remains of a long mound oriented NW-SE, about 70 metres (230 feet) long and 40 metres (130 feet) broad, were seen and described by Passmore in 1922.  One should not necessarily assume that the stones are the remains of a chambered long barrow, although they might be.”

And you’ve gotta say that unless we have hardcore evidence to the contrary, his summary is quite possible.  However, it seems here that Meaden has simply utilised this logic to enable him to posit another reason — a “good one” he calls it — for this suggestion, i.e.,

“its capstone seems to have profiles of heads carved upon two, perhaps three of its sides; suggesting that, if the art was meant to be seen, the capstone was never covered with earth.”

Devils Den on 1889 map
Devils Den on 1889 map

Unfortunately however, these possible “carved heads” on the sides of the capstone more typify Rorscharch responses to natural geological shapes scattering rocks all over the planet.  Up North, if we were to attempt this sorta suggestion, we’d have millions of such carved heads popping up all over the place.  It’s a nice idea, but somewhat unlikely.

Folklore

The old dowser Guy Underwood (1977) was renowned for locating water lines* in and around many of England’s prehistoric sites, and the same pattern was recorded here.  He told that the Devil’s Den marked the site of a blind spring “of exceptional importance.”  He continued:

“The Devil’s Den dolmen marks the source of a multiple water line which forms a maze, marked by stones, about 200 yards to the northwest.  It terminates at a well, where two tracks cross about a mile further west.  This site is likely to have had special sanctity and would be interesting to excavate.”

Whilst the importance of water was understandable in ancient days, some other folklore attributes derive from quite different ingredients.  The common theme of “immovability” is found here, as described by reverend Smith (1885) again who, amidst other peculiarities, told the following:

“There are various traditions connected with it. I was told some years since, by an old man hoeing turnips near, that if anybody mounted to the top of it, he might shake it in one particular part. I do not know whether this is the case or not, though it is not unusual where the capstone is upheld by only three supporters. But another labourer whom I once interrogated informed me that nobody could ever pull off the capstone; that many had tried to do so without success; and that on one occasion twelve white oxen were provided with new harness, and set to pull it off, but the harness all fell to pieces immediately! As my informant evidently thought very seriously of this, and considered it the work of enchantment, I found it was not a matter for trifling to his honest but superstitious mind; and he remained perfectly unconvinced by all the arguments with which I tried to shake his credulity.”

References:

  1. Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
  2. Goddard, E., “The Devil’s Den, Manton, Wiltshire,” in The Antiquaries Journal, volume 2, no.1, January 1922.
  3. Gomme, Alice B., ‘Folklore Scraps from Several Localities’, in Folklore, 20:1, 1909.
  4. Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976.
  5. Kempson, E.G.H., “The Devil’s Den,” in Wiltshire Archaeology & Natural History Magazine, 55, 1953.
  6. Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathan Cape: London 1926.
  7. Meaden, Terence, The Secrets of the Avebury Stones, Souvenir Press: London 1999.
  8. Smith, A.C., A Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, Wiltshire Archaeological & Natural History Society 1885.
  9. Thomas, Nicholas, Guide to Prehistoric England, Batsford: London 1976.
  10. Underwood, Guy, The Pattern of the Past, Abacus: London 1977.
  11. Wright, Joseph, English Dialect Dictionary – volume 2, Henry Frowde: London 1898.

* Those people who allege they can dowse will always find water in their first few months, if not years, of sensitivity.  There is a pattern nowadays of people using dowsing tools and, when the rods cross (or whichever accessory they get their reactions from), they allege they are connecting with unknown energies, ley lines and other such items; but this is simply incorrect. The primary dowsing response is water (life-blood) and it takes much practice over long periods of time to even begin isolating leys or other occult phenomena.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Jeppe Knave Grave, Wiswell, Lancashire

Cairn:  OS Grid Reference – SD 7599 3782

Getting Here

Jeppe Knave Grave on 1848 map
Jeppe Knave Grave on 1848 map

From Sabden, head up the steep Clitheroe Road towards the Nick o’ Pendle, turning left 100 yards before the hilltop and along the dirt-track for a few yards, before veering up the winding footpath to the hilltop.  When you’re at the peak of this little bit o’ moorland, go to your left (west), following the small path into the grasses and heather all the way on for a few hundred yards till you hit the triangulation pillar.  Go past this, over one stile (north) and then immediately at right-angles (west) over another stile and downhill for about 100 yards until you’re on the rough grassland level.  Keep your eyes peeled as you’re walking until you see what looks like a denuded stone-lined pit, much overgrown — with the main feature (showing that you’ve hit the target) being the engraving on one of the larger rocks: “Jeppe Knave Grave”.

Archaeology & History

The Jeppe Knave Grave

First described in early perambulation records of 1326 CE, this is a small but intriguing site found on the far southwestern slopes of Pendle Hill, on the ridge beneath the triangulation pillar of Wiswell Moor.  It’s a small and overgrown cairn with a general archaeological association of prehistory attached—though no detailed excavation has ever been done here, despite local archaeologists having access to a large grant to explore this region a short while ago.¹  But up North, as many of us know, archaeology is given little priority and those who do decent exploratory work under the umbrella of such academic quarters tend to be few and far between.  Thankfully we had the northern antiquarian and local writer John Dixon (1993) nearby who gave us the best overview of the site.  He wrote:

“This landscape feature, known as Jeppe Knave Grave, stands at a place called The Lows high on Wiswell Moor and takes the form of a low grass-covered mound 16M in diameter with a stone filled depression in the centre 5 x 3 M.  This feature appears to be a mutilated cairn and has been tentatively ascribed to the Bronze Age.  The outer ring of stones can be discerned in the rough pasture at the perimeter – yellow in dry conditions, showing the circular shape. Given the large size of the stones here, the cairn may have been of a chambered type/passage tomb of the Neolithic period, and if this was the case the burial (or burials?) was one of great importance.

“Upon the largest stone are inscribed the words ‘JEPPE KNAVE GRAVE and a cross (inscribed by the Scouting Association in the 1960’s). The stone marks the final resting place of Jeppe Curteys (Geoffrey Curtis), a local robber who was decapitated for his crimes in the first year of Edward III, 1327.  The name first occurs in a record of the boundaries between Wiswall and Pendleton dated 1342.

“…In those times the punishment of decapitation was unusual, being reserved for those of noble birth.  So who was this Jeppe Curteys, punished by decapitation and later buried on the high ridge of Wiswell Moor in a pre-Christian burial mound on the then boundary of parishes?  That intriguing story we may never know.  But to be buried in such a manner and place was indeed a great indignity – interment in what might be considered in those times to be a ‘pagan’ or ‘devilish’ spot.  It may be that to bury a man in such a place was to literally ‘send him to the devil’. Alternatively one could ask: ‘Was the site thought then to be the burial spot of some noble ancestor, and Jeppe being of possible noble birth interred with great dignity?  Again we may never know, yet it is significant that this lonely spot is still identified with a man who was executed 700 years ago.

In 1608 it was stated that one Robert Lowe had taken a stone from the grave and used it as a cover of his lime kiln.”

Old codgers from the local Senile Society, inspecting York Minster!
Agatha Lyons’ 1871 sketch

The design of the cairn here is unlike the ones you usually come across on the Lancashire and Yorkshire moorlands.  The edges of the Jeppe Knave Grave are walled and much more well-defined than the large rock piles that we find scattering our uplands.  A similar though larger cairn with features similar to these can be seen in the large Low Hill tumulus on Elslack Moor near Earby, about ten miles northeast of here…

Other prehistoric remains scatter the many rolling hills that you can see from here: mainly prehistoric tombs sat upon hilltops as far as the eye can see.  John pointed out what may be the remains of another tumulus that can be seen on the nearby horizon a few hundred yards NNW from here, overlooking the gorgeous village of Pendleton and the landscape beyond…

References:

  1. Dixon, John, Journeys through Brigantia – volume 9: The Ribble Valley, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 1993.
  2. Dixon, John, Pendle – A Mythic Landscape, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 2010.
  3. Whitaker, Thomas Dunham, An History of the Original Parish of Whalley – volume 2, George Routledge: London 1876.

¹ John Dixon informed us how the people in question spent the grant — somewhere in the region of £50,000 — on exploring some modern architectural features, instead of exploring some of the little-known sites and seeking out others on these hills.

* John is the author of many fine historical travel guides, including the Journeys through Brigantia series. See the titles in the Lancashire Bibliography and Yorkshire Bibliography for a more complete listing of all his books to date.  If you wanna buy any of his works, or make enquiries regarding them, email John at: lancashirebooks@fsmail.net – or write to him direct, at: John Dixon, Aussteiger Publications, 21 Lowergate, Clitheroe, Lancashire BB7 1AD.

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian 


Coffin Stone, Sabden, Lancashire

Standing Stone:  OS Grid Reference – SD 7717 3830

Getting Here

From Sabden village, walk up the Clitheroe Road towards the hairpin Nick o’ Pendle, but take the turning left 100 yards before the Nick.  Walk along the dirt-track for less than 100 yards, watching for the small upright on the right-hand side of the track. You can’t really miss it!

Archaeology & History

The Coffin Stone

To be found on the far southern flanks of Pendle Hill, the Lancashire writer and historian, John Dixon,* brought us to this little-known stone a few days back — and gave us the history of the place. (Dixon 1993)  He pointed out how it’s situated right alongside the legendary cross-Pennine prehistoric route that was labelled ‘Rombald’s Way’ by Eric Cowling. (1946): an important trackway which ran from coast to coast, allowing for the passage and transmission of flints, salt and early metals carried for barter and other uses.  What may be another standing stone is on the nearby skyline a couple of hundred yards east; and on the slopes either side of here are the prehistoric tombs of Jeppe Knave Grave and the Devil’s Apronful (amongst others).  A fine little standing stone!

Folklore

The name derives from it being a place where, in bygone days, when coffins were carried along the ancient routeway hereby, it was rested by this stone.  As John Dixon (1993) told:

“It was used to mark a resting point for coffins en route from Pendle Forest to Whalley, allowing the mourners to refresh and pray by the curative Marion well, in a time before the ‘Newchurch’ of St. Mary was established at Goldshaw Booth in 1544.”

…and from another angle

The Marion Well he mentions is more popularly known as Our Lady’s Well and can be found a hundred yards up the hillside above our Coffin Stone.  If you walk up the slope you’ll see the site emerging where a small boggy pool appears on the hillside, and the course of the small stream marked by the reeds growing down the grassy slopes.  Although it became very much a Roman Catholic practice to venerate the Virgin Mary by this old well, the ritual was of course a much older heathen one.

John has also reminded me to mention “the fossil markings on the side of the stone – some plant from a former age” which you can see curving up from the bottom of the upright.

References:

  1. Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way: A Prehistory of Mid-Wharfedale, William Walker: Otley 1946.
  2. Dixon, John, Journeys through Brigantia – volume 9: The Ribble Valley, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 1993.
  3. Dixon, John, Pendle – A Mythic Landscape, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 2010.

* John is the author of many fine historical travel guides, including the Journeys through Brigantia series. See the titles in the Lancashire Bibliography and Yorkshire Bibliography for a more complete listing of all his books to date.  If you wanna buy any of his works, or make enquiries regarding them, email John at: lancashirebooks@fsmail.net – or write to him direct, at: John Dixon, Aussteiger Publications, 21 Lowergate, Clitheroe, Lancashire BB7 1AD.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Innesmill, Urquhart, Moray

Stone Circle: OS Grid Reference – NJ 289 640

Also known as: 

  1. B5/1 (Thom)
  2. Deil’s Stanes
  3. Devil’s Stones 
  4. Lochhill 
  5. Moray 6 (Burl)
  6. Nine Stanes Stones of Urquhart

Archaeology & History

Alexander Thom’s Innesmill plan

Described in early local history journals, this stone circle of many names is composed of mainly small upright stones — though one of them stands nearly six feet tall — yet it has quite a large diameter of 110 feet (or 40.4 megalithic yards).  Alexander Thom (1980) measured its circumference as being precisely 127 megalithic yards.  It is thought to have originally consisted of twelve stones, but today only five remain.  And in a landscape where recumbent stone circles reign supreme, Aubrey Burl (in Thom, Thom & Burl 1980) thought the lay-out of the site suggestive of just such a monument, saying:

“The apparent grading of the stones towards the S-SSW and the 19th century reference by the Minister of Urquhart to “nine tall stones in a circle, two of them at the entrance to the altar” suggest that this may have been a recumbent stone circle, from which the recumbent and its flankers have subsequently been removed.  It is noteworthy that the westernmost stone has several small cupmarks on it, a pillar which would have been close to the recumbent in that restricted area where cupmarks are to be found in recumbent stone circles.”

A singular TNA profile entry of the said cup-marked stone will be added in due course.  The middle of the circle was dug sometime prior to 1870, but no human or other remains were found.

Folklore

Described by two local ministers as ‘Nine Stanes’ back in Victorian days, with at least one of the stones being recumbent, it was the great Fred Coles (1906) in one of his many articles on the megalithic remains of Scotland who narrated the following tale, told to him first-hand by a local man called Mr T. Geddie, after some of the standing stones from this circle were removed in the nineteenth century.

“One of the stones,” wrote Mr Geddie, “was to be taken away to be built into a new steading at Viewfield. Mr Brown thinks this was prior to the building of the Innesmill steading, which dates from 1843. No sooner had the Stone been deposited in the toon, however, than uncanny signs and omens began to manifest themselves, and it was resolved to get rid of it. While it was being taken back to its original position, the horse stuck or fell when taking a somewhat steep little brae, and the Stone was taken no further, but buried where it was. The spot it about 80 or 100 yards from the circle.”

Grinsell (1976) also tells the tale that if you visit the circle at midnight and walk round the circle three times, the devil can appear.

References:

  1. Coles, F.R., ‘Report on Stone Circles Surveyed in the North-East of Scotland, Chiefly in Banffshire’, in PSAS 40, 1906. 
  2. Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976. 
  3. Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Megalithic Rings, BAR 81: Oxford 1980.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Culliford Tree Barrow, Upwey, Dorset

Tumulus:  OS Grid Reference – SY 6691 8548

Also Known as:

  1. Music Barrow
  2. Warne’s Barrow 22
  3. Whitcombe 1 (Grinsell)

Archaeology & History

Crowned by a clump of trees (planted in 1740), this hilltop site is one of the more impressive of a number of tombs hereby, with its nearest other neighbour being 70 yards southeast of here.  One of Dorset’s early tribal meeting places (Anderson 1934), the tomb was illustrated on Isaac Taylor’s 1765 map of the region and was dug into in 1858 “on the orders of a local magnate” (Marsden 1999), damaging some substantial portion of the tomb.  Of this, craniologist and antiquarian John Thurnam was most displeased; for in his description of the opening of Culliford Tree he wrote:

“A wide trench had been dug through it one side, from the summit and the rubble which had been thrown out had not been replaced… Another subject of regret was the fact that though, as we were told by the neighbouring rustics, human remains, with pottery and certain other relics, were found in the barrow, no authentic account of the exploration had, so far as we could learn, been put to print.”

Leslie Grinsell (1959) found the same trouble in his assessment of this site; and the Royal Commission (1970) lads could only describe the site thus:

“Large trench on south and top almost certainly dug in 1858 when four secondary extended inhumations, one with necklace of amber and two gold-plated beads, and cremation with incense cup in collared urn, were found.”

However, it seems that the necklace and gold-plated beads have been “lost” — i.e., someone has them in their own private collection somewhere!

Folklore

This is one of very few tombs in this part of the country where we find the tradition of fairy music.  Grinsell (1959) told that:

“The Culliford Tree barrow, formerly the meeting place of the Hundred of Culllingford Tree, is also known as the Music Barrow from the belief that music could be heard beneath the mound by those who listened at the apex at midday.”

References:

  1. Anderson, O.S., The English Hundred-Names, Lunds Universitets Arsskrift 1934.
  2. Grinsell, Leslie V., Dorset Barrows, Dorset Natural History & Archaeological Society: Dorchester 1959.
  3. Marsden, Barry M., The Early Barrow Diggers, Tempus: Stroud 1999.
  4. Royal Commission on Historical Monuments, An Inventory of Historical Monuments in the County of Dorset – Volume 2: South-East, Part 3, HMSO: London 1970.
  5. Warne, Charles, Celtic Tumuli of Dorset: An Account of Personal and other Researches in the Sepulchral Mounds of the Durotriges, Smith: London 1866.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Elf Howe, Folkton, East Yorkshire

Tumulus (destroyed):  OS Grid Reference – TA 0422 7726

Archaeology & History

A once-impressive haunted burial mound on the southern edge of Folkton parish, all that remains of the place now are aerial images showing the ghostly ring of its former site.  Commenting on the destruction of this burial mound  before he had chance to give it his full attention, in William Greenwell’s (1877) magnum opus he wrote the following:

“Elf Howe had been removed to a great extent, and the grave had been dug out before I had an opportunity of examining it.  I however got an account of what was discovered from the foreman on the farm, and I was able personally to inspect a small portion which had not been disturbed.  The barrow had been 60ft in diameter and 6ft high, and was made of earth and chalk.  Near the centre a deposit of burnt bones was met with, over which some large flints were placed; this was at a depth of 4ft, and as a great quantity of burnt earth was observed immediately round the bones, it is probable that the body had been burnt on the spot where the bones were placed.  Two unburnt bodies were found on the south side of the mound, with one of which a vessel of pottery was associated.  At a distance of 17ft south-south-east of the centre I found the body of a strongly-made man, laid on the right side, with the head to the south and the hands to the knees; he body was placed about 6in above the natural surface.  Immediately below the head was the body of a very young child, the bones of which were too much decayed to admit of anything being made out beyond the fact that it was a child’s body which was laid there.  Still lower, and on the natural surface, was a patella, a radius, and some other bones of a body, which had been disturbed, probably in the interring of the person who was found buried above.  At the centre was a grave, lying northwest and southeast, 7ft by 6½ft and 2½ft deep.  On the bottom at the north side was the body of a strongly-made man in the middle period of life, whose head…was to the south, but my informant could not remember on which side the body was laid; at the head was a ‘food vessel’, which, from the fragments that have been preserved, must have been a rudely-made one with unusually thick walls.”

Folklore

Although antiquarians and archaeologists such as Elgee, Grinsell, Gutch, Johnson and others each tell (in their own respective ways) that Elf Howe “testifies to a widespread belief in goblin-haunted barrows” — albeit in the linguistic ‘elven’ of the Scandinavian invaders — we appear to have lost the original tale behind this fairy-haunted site.

References:

  1. Greenwell, William, British Barrows, Clarendon Press: Oxford 1877.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Badger Stone, Ilkley Moor, West Yorkshire

Cup-and-Ring Stone:  OS Grid Reference – SE 11074 46049

Also Known as:

  1. Carving no.88 (Hedges)
  2. Carving no.250 (Boughey & Vickerman)
  3. Grainings Head Stone

Getting Here

Allen's 1879 drawing
Allen’s 1879 drawing

Although there are several routes to this site, for those who are not used to walking or find maps difficult to read [get a life!], it is best approached from the Ilkley side of the moor.  Follow the old track that cuts the moor in half past the remains of Graining Head quarry where the moor begins to level out.  Once here cut straight east until you find the footpath which, after a while, you will see leads to a wooden seat right in the middle of nowhere.  Here is our Badger Stone.

Archaeology & History

An eroded but quite excellent cup-and-ring stone — one of the very best on Ilkley Moor — comprising nearly a hundred cups, ten rings, what seems to be a half-swastika design, plus a variety of other odd motifs.  It’s one of the best carvings on the entire moor and has been written about by many folk over the years.  First described in an early essay on cup-and-ring stones by J. Romilly Allen (1879) — who must have visited it in poor light, as some elements of the carving weren’t noticed — he described it as a “sculptured stone near Grainings Head”, saying:

“This stone…is a block of gritstone 12ft long by 7ft 6in broad, by 4ft high.  The largest face slopes at an angle of about 40° to the horizon, and on it are carved nearly fifty cups, sixteen of which are surrounded with single concentric rings.  At the west end of the stone are a group, three cups with double rings and radial grooves.  At the other end, near the top, is a curious pattern formed of double grooves, and somewhat resembling the “swastika” emblem… At the highest part of the stone is a rock basin 8in deep and 9in wide.  On the vertical end of the stone are five cut cups, three of which have single rings.  This is one of the few instances of cup and ring marks occurring on a vertical face of rock.”

Badger Stone on 1910 map

The title “badger” dates back to at least medieval times when, as the Yorkshire historian Arthur Raistrick (1962) explained, the word represented “a corn dealer, corn miller or miller’s man.”  It is likely that this traditional title goes much further back, probably into prehistory, as grain was one of the earliest forms of trade.  Very close to this sacred old stone are place-names verifying this, like Grainings Head and Green Gates.  A little higher upon the moor is the twelfth century Cowper’s Cross (which used to have cup-markings etched upon it) where, tradition tells, a market was held that replaced an older one close by.

The Badger Stone carving
Close-up of cup-and-rings

Our Badger Stone rests beside the prehistoric track which Eric Cowling termed “Rombald’s Way” (after the legendary giant, Rombald, who lived with his old wife upon these hills): an important prehistoric route running across the mid-Pennines.  This ancient route runs east-west, traditionally the time of year when agricultural needs are greatest at the equinoxes.  This may have been the time when any ancient grain traders met here. (In modern times a number of archaeologists have emphasized such routes as “trade routes”: a notion that derives from the modern religion of Free Market Economics in tandem with the rise of Industrialism and social Darwinism, much more than the actuality of them as simple pathways or means of accessible movement).

There are accounts from other places in Yorkshire about these badger men.  We find a number of other “badger” stones, gates, ways, stoops and crosses on our Yorkshire hills.  One of them in North Yorkshire, wrote Raistrick (1962), “is an ancient trade way.”  In Richmond, North Yorkshire, around the time of the autumn equinox, Badger men from across the Dales followed the old routes over the hills into town, held annual festivities and sold their grain. (see Smith 1989; Speight 1897)  It is perhaps possible that our old Badger Stone would have been a site where some form of indigenous British Demeter was revered.

Sketch of Badger Stone carving

Some elements of the Badger Stone carving have what could be deemed as primitive human images (anthropomorphic) mainly on the northwestern side of the rock, emerging from the Earth Herself.  And certainly amidst the same portion we have a very distinct ‘solar’ symbol, very much like the ones found at Newgrange and, for that matter, many other parts of the world.

Some New Age folk have given the fertility element to the Badger Stone a deeper status, using imagination as an aid to decode these old carvings.  When feminist New-Age writer Monica Sjoo visited Badger Stone she described it as “erotic”, with the carvings giving her a distinct impression of “vulvas” and she also thought orgies of sorts had been enacted here. (Billingsley & Sjoo, 1993)  The vulva imagery is a well-known idea to explain cup-and-rings and in some cases this will be valid; but when I passed an illustration of this rock-art to a number of people (all women), there was not a vulva to be mentioned — merely the OM symbol, sperm entering the egg, a snail, a bicycle, a willy, a paw-print, eyes, a face, a tadpole, cartoon breasts, the rear end of a dog, grapes, letters, numbers, ears and a snake!  Awesome stuff!  Take a look at the design yourself and see what you can see in it.  Answers on a postcard please! (The dilemma of making specific interpretations of these carvings is that we tend to approach them with dominant ego perspectives, many of them reflecting little more than our own beliefs or search for identity, imposing unresolved journeys and conflicts on that which we encounter, as with the above case.)

As with prehistoric rock-art in general, they are a number of things: functional, ritual, history, spirit; different at each and every site.  As if to exemplify this at Badger Stone, note how the detailed carvings have been executed mainly on the southern face of the stone.  The northern face has little if anything to show on it.  It would suggest therefore, that this stone had some mythic relationship with events during daylight hours.  But we have to be careful here…

At sunrise on a good morning, we note how the eastern edges of this stone show up very clearly indeed.  If Nature’s conditions are damp and wet (as they tend to be each morning on the hills), the visible outline of these cup-and-rings show up very clearly indeed.  Oddly, as the sun then passes through the daytime sky each and every day on its cyclical movement, the petroglyphic content becomes a little less visible unless the stone is wet.  Indeed at sun-high (midday period) the carving doesn’t show up as well as it did in the morning light.  And we find the same characteristic as the sun goes to set in the west: where that part of the carved stone shows up very clearly again — much clearer than during full daytime hours.  If rain has fallen, the glyphs stand out very clearly indeed.

As all cultures imbued the natural world with animistic, living qualities, it seems probable that these periods of the day (sunrise and sunset) were significant at this particular carving.  It may be, very simply, that the Badger Stone “came to life” with the sunrise and its mythic nature was alive during this period; whereas with many other carvings (both on these moors and elsewhere in Britain) their strong mythic associations related to the northern Land of the Dead.  But then, I could be talking bullshit!

The Badger Stone is also a strong contender for it being a painted stone.  Many petroglyphs like this in other cultures were ceremonially coloured-in using lichens and other plants dyes at certain times of the day or year, relating specifically to important mythic relationships between the people and the spirit of the rock at such places.  This probably occurred here.

References:

  1. Allen, J. Romilly, “The Prehistoric Rock Sculptures of Ilkley,” in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, volume 35, 1879.
  2. Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
  3. Billingsley, John & Sjoo, Monica, “Monica Sjoo in West Yorkshire,” in Northern Earth Mysteries, no.53, 1993.
  4. Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
  5. Hedges, John, The Carved Rocks on Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
  6. Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
  7. Raistrick, Arthur, Green Tracks on the Pennines, Dalesman: Clapham 1962.
  8. Smith, Julia, Fairs, Feasts and Frolics: Customs and Traditions in Yorkshire, Smith Settle: Otley 1989.
  9. Speight, Harry, Romantic Richmondshire, Elliot Stock: London 1897.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Merlin’s Mount, Marlborough, Wiltshire

Tumulus:  OS Grid Reference – SU 1836 6867

Also Known as:

  1. Marlborough Mount
  2. Merlin’s Barrow
  3. Merlin’s Mound

Getting Here

Pretty simple.  Get to the chapel in front of Marlborough College, and look at the stepped hill in the grounds thereof (with a big hole cut into the top where a water tower once stood).  That’s it!  Please be aware that this monument is on college ground, so it might be worthwhile telephoning them if you wanna wander upon the hill.

Archaeology & History

Merlin’s Mount (from Colt-Hoare’s Ancient Wiltshire)

This curious rounded, pyramidal hill is thought by some to have given the town of Marlborough its very name.  Described in Domesday as ‘Merleberge’, which is reckoned to derive from “the hill or barrow of Maerla”: Maerla in this case being a lost olde English name, said in local folklore and tradition to have been our old heathen magickian, Merlin, of Arthurian fame and legend.  Long ago his bones were laid to rest here and this great ‘tomb’ built over him.  We might never know…

The exact nature and date of this mound has yet to be satisfactorily explained.  Commonly ascribed as Norman in origin (based mainly on the notion that it wasn’t mentioned before Domesday and there being motte and bailey ruins here), the finding of Roman remains near its base then led some to think they had built the hill; but when “antler picks used by its prehistoric builders were unearthed in the late nineteenth century and again in 1912 when a trench was cut for the flue of a new engine-house chimney” (Burl 2002), the dates for its origin went a lot further back!

One of the earlier commentators on this archaeological curiosity was Sir Richard Colt-Hoare (1812) in the days when much more of this and other sites were visible in the landscape, saying:

“The Mount within the gardens of the Castle Inn is a remarkable earthwork: it is a huge pile of earth, and inferior in proportions only to Silbury Hill.  Each is situated on the River Kennet; the one near its source, the other near its margin; and I have no doubt but that in ancient times each had some corresponding connection with each other.”

A sentiment echoed by our modern megalithic scholar, Aubrey Burl. (2002)  But as Burl points out, the distance between Silbury and Merlin’s Mount would have been measured not in distance by those who constructed these giant mounds, but in time.  And the focus of our ancestors here in relation to these two great artificial mounds, would not be esteemed as much by engineering or measurement — for both mounds are gigantic — but a wholly mythic one.  Colt-Hoare continued:

“This mound has been so mutilated, as well as lowered in its height, that it is impossible to calculate an exact measurement of either its circumference or height; but as nearly as we could guess with our chains, we found the base to be about 1000 feet in circumference, and the diameter of the summit 100 feet.”

A piece of Merlin’s Mount!

When the reverend A.C. Smith (1885) described Merlin’s Mount — or ‘Marlborough Hill’ as he preferred it named — more than seventy years later as, “an artificial tumulus which deserves careful examination”, it seems little further investigation had been done.  And despite Smith’s wish for such care and attention, even today no detailed archaeological investigation has been undertaken.  Astonishing!  This fascinating-looking pyramidal “barrow” was thought by several early writers to have been constructed along similar architectural designs as that of Silbury Hill.  In Massingham’s (1926) fascinating Egyptian-origin hypothesis, he tells us the following:

“Merlin’s Mount encompasses only an acre-and-a-half of ground in comparison with Silbury’s five-and-a-half, and reaches a trifle more than half its height (60 feet).  In every other respect the twain are alike.  Both were raised at the foot of a gentle slope, both were made of chalk resting on a thin layer of clay, both were trenched around the bases, and in both were buried the antlered picks of the builders.  Both were built near the banks of the (River) Kennet within five miles of one and other.”

It certainly is impressive!  When Michala Potts and I came here last year in the fine company of Pete Glastonbury and others, we were somewhat in awe of the fact that so little has been said of this site in modern archaeological terms.  Indeed, the fact that the jury is still out as to the age of its construction we found quite surprising at the time.  Though another quick reading of Mr Burl’s Avebury work, combining the Roman finds and the antler picks here, makes him think that “a prehistoric origin for the mound likely.”

The name of Marlborough itself has been given a number of interpretations, most notably the attempt to derive it from the great shaman-poet Merlin.  But on a down-to-earth peasant level we find, in John Aubrey’s Monumenta Britannica there’s a note in the margin concerning the ‘marl’ element in the place-name that was told to him by a local man called Edward Leigh, which said,

“Marga, marle, we use instead of dung to manure our ground. It (Marlborough) lieth near a chalky hill, which our ancestors knew.  They borrowed this name ‘chaulk’ of the Latin, calx, named marle.”

More recently Margaret Gelling (1984) thought that the name of this hill or mound “is variously interpreted as a plant-name or a personal name.”  Which for some brings us back to Merlin!  We might never know…

References:

  1. Best, J., “The Marlborough Mound,” in A. Whittle’s Sacred Mound, Holy Rings (Oxford 1997).
  2. Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
  3. Field, David, Brown, Graham & Crockett, Andrew, “The Marlborough Mound Revisited,” in Wiltshire Archaeologial & Natural History Magazine, 94, 2001.
  4. Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape, Phoenix: London 1984.
  5. Hoare, Richard Colt, The Ancient History of South Wiltshire and the Ancient History of North Wiltshire, London 1812.
  6. Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathon Cape: London 1926.
  7. Smith, A.C., Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, WANHS 1885.

Links:

  1. Merlin’s Mount on Press TV

Acknowledgements:

With many thanks to Pete Glastonbury and Brian Edwards for their hints and corrections.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Butt Well, Stirling, Stirlingshire

Healing Well:  OS Grid Reference – NS 7894 9389

Also Known as:

  1. Spout Well

Getting Here

Butt Well in 1898
Butt Well in 1898

Said by John Allan (1907) to be “at the base of the Brandy Hill, about 210 yards west from the parish church,” to get to it from the town centre Stirling Arcade, go across and along the Corn Exchange Road and as it goes down the slope, take the path that leads into the trees on your right-hand side.  Follow this path along to the bottom of the woods.  Once on the level at the bottom, walk on the path in the direction of Stirling Castle and eventually you’ll reach the fancy walling with the dried-up well right in front of you!

Archaeology & History

This much-neglected site got its name from there being a number of archery shooting targets, or butts, which used to be erected in the fields immediately below this once popular drinking spot.  Although the Stirling historian J.S. Fleming (1898) could find no definitive records of the place as a holy or healing well, he told how,

“The copious spring arising in the centre of the rock on which Stirling Town and Castle are built, must have been extensively used during the Royal occupation of the Castle for watering the horses engaged in hunting in the Park…and it must also have been the source from whence the canal or ornamental waters and fountains in the ancient pleasure-grounds of the King’s Knot were supplied, the fall being amply sufficient  for the rise to a considerable height of the latter… The Well had at one time a railing surroundings its then open trough, the marks of the lead used in grouting the rails remaining visible until the last alteration.”

The waters emerging in the field below
The Butt Well

Early accounts of the Butt Well are few and far between.  Ronald James (1899) found it to have been known in earlier centuries as the Spout Well in 1582, but additional descriptions of the place are scant.  The well is not included in the surveys of either MacKinlay (1893) nor the Morris’ (1981), though John Allan (1907) thinks that this site was a “congenial retreat” where “the bard of the chief” would gain insight.  The remains of walling behind the old well he thought may have been the ancient remains of an old hermitage of sorts, but there’s little evidence to prove this.   Today, although dried-up, the site appears much it as did when Fleming described it:

“The Well has had the old wall — formed of granite boulders — rebuilt and cemented, and a rustic ornamental freestone front put on where the spout is inserted, but its stone seat for invalids and other surroundings remains as they were forty years ago.  The Well formed the termination of the early morning walk of the town’s folk for a draught of its cold water, and was at a late period used by the wives and washerwomen of Stirling for washing their clothes, which were then bleached on the green sward lying below the Well, the tenant of the park making a charge according to the extent of the washing.”

If you go behind the walling here you’ll notice a small flow of water which emerges into the field below.  The waters from here, although only a trickle, are still cold, fine and refreshing.

References:

  1. Allan, John, The Days of the Monasteries and Latter Days of Stirling, Stirling 1907.
  2. Fleming, J.S., Old Nooks of Stirling, Delineated and Described, Munro & Jamieson: Stirling 1898.
  3. Ronald, James, Landmarks of Old Stirling, Eneas MacKay: Stirling 1899.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian 


Wallace’s Stone, Dunblane, Stirlingshire

Standing Stones / Stone Row:  OS Grid Reference – NN 83259 02293

Also Known as:

  1. Lairhill Stones

Getting Here

Follow the same directions as to reach the cup-marked Sheriffmuir Carving, which is just a coupla hundred yards away to the southwest.  On a clear day you can see this standing stone from the pub by the roadside, a few hundred yards away!

Archaeology & History

Wallace Stone (photo credit – James Elkington)

This is alleged to be just one standing stone in a straight line of five once-upright monoliths.  Starting at the southwestern end of this row we have the 7ft-long cup-marked Sheriffmuir Carved stone — which certainly looks as if it stood upright in the not-too-distant past — and as we move up the line we pass another that’s been split in half.  Another earthfast-looking rock is the next contender, before we reach our famous Wallace Stone, standing upright and proud on this moorland ridge.  It’s about 6ft tall and 3ft across at its widest and certainly acts as a marker for the line of stones that allegedly stood upright here.  And if we walk just a bit further up we have another big stone laid on the ground which is alleged to be a part of the same alignment.

The split stone (photo credit – James Elkington)

If it is an authentic megalithic row, it’s not included in either the Thoms’ (1990) two-volume work on the subject, nor Aubrey Burl’s (1996) compendium a few years later.  And though the alignment looks good, I’ve found ones just like this in the Pennines where we have just one upright left and then a line of other seemingly prostrate stones running dead straight either side of the singular upright (and have kept mi gob shut about ’em for sensible reasons), so I’m not too sure what to think.

But, alignment aside, the Wallace Stone itself is a damn good standing stone and well worth checking out.  It’s highly probable that other prehistoric remains still lurk, undiscovered, amidst these heaths…like the lost stone circle to be found nearby…

Folklore

A slight variation on a theme about this spot:  in both accounts the stone was named after the legendary Scottish independence fighter, Sir William Wallace.  The folklore tells that he and his fighting clans gathered here in 1297 preceeding the Battle of Stirling Bridge; whilst the variation tells that the stone here was actually erected around that time to commemorate the event.  This tale was first narrated by a local story-teller called Blind Harry and was found by local historian A.F. Hutchinson (1893) to be a case of mistaken identity!

References:

  1. Burl, Aubrey, From Carnac to Callanish: The Prehistoric Stone Rows and Avenues of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 1993.
  2. Heggie, Douglas C., Megalithic science: ancient mathematics and astronomy in north-west Europe, Thames & Hudson: London 1981.
  3. Hutchinson, A.F., “The Standing Stones and other Rude Monuments of Stirling District,” in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Antiquarian Society, 1893.
  4. Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Stirling District, Central Region, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 1979.
  5. Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Stone Rows and Standing Stones – 2 volumes, B.A.R.: Oxford 1990.

Acknowledgements:  Big thanks as always to James Elkington for use of his photos in this site profile – prints of which are available from the man himself!

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian