Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NG 552 172
Also Known as:
Cille Mhaire
Folklore
Omitted from Burl’s (2000) magnum opus, the great Scottish folklorists Otta Swire (1961) is the singular reference to the forgotten stone circle that once existed here. She wrote:
“The site of the old church of Kilmarie and of the stone circle whose proximity no doubt originally called it into being are now no longer to be seen. The ruins of the old church, I am told, were swept away by the sea during that great storm in the 1920s which also blew down the Dunvegan woods. The storm followed not long after the burial near the old church of an unknown sailor taken from the sea, and there were those who believed this to be the cause of the church’s disappearance, for, as the old Gaelic rhyme says: “The sea will search the four russet divisions of the universe to find her children,” and Kenneth MacLeod advises that a body taken from the sea should always be buried near the water’s edge, or the sea, desiring to recover her own, will flood much land in search of it.
“This church is said to have stood on the site of an older church of St. Maelrhuba (Servant of Peace) who was the patron saint of south-eastern Skye.”
References:
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Swire, Otta F., Skye: The Island and its Legends, Blackie & Son: Glasgow 1961.
Simple. The church in the centre of the village across from the T-junction with the A5 is where it’s at!
Archaeology & History
Cross-base with cup-marks (from Owen, 1886)
At Corwen churchyard we find a number of curious old stone relics — not least of which is this seemingly 12th century christian cross, more than seven-feet tall, on the west side of the church. Not only does this have a curious history in itself, but the base on which the cross stands has what may be at least seven cup-markings etched on it. These were first mentioned – I think – by Elias Owen in his Old Stone Crosses of the Vale of Clwyd, (1886) who wrote:
“The stone basement in which the (cross) shaft is placed is elliptical in form, with transverse and conjugate diameters measuring respectively 64 and 60 inches; it is 12 inches or so thick, is of a slaty nature and might have been procured in the neighbourhood… There are seven peculiar artificial depressions along the surface of the pedestal, strongly resembling the cup-markings which are found occasionally on the capstones of cromlechs, etc. They are irregularly arranged: on the north side there are three, almost in a line; and on other parts of the stone there are four of these marks. They differ somewhat from each other in size and shape, but they are for the most part circular, though one is more of an oblong than a circle. They vary also in depth, one being two-and-half inches deep, while the others are shallow. The largest is three inches in diameter; the others are not so broad.”
Owen makes note of a previous description of the Corwen “cross” by Thomas Pennant in 1784, where sounds as if this stone had a decidedly megalithic precursor. He told us:
“A most singular cross in the churchyard merits attention: the shaft is let into a flat stone, and that again is supported by four or five rude stones, as if the whole had been formed in imitation of, and in veneration of, the sacred Cromlech of very early times.”
Two other crosses are found at Corwen church – one of which has a decidely heathen legend attached to it. The Carreg y Big yn y Fach Rhewllyd monolith is also found here, in the porch wall. A few miles east of here we also find another cup-marked stone, shown on The Old-Fashioned Antiquarian website. Looks a good n’!
References:
Owen, Elias, Old Stone Crosses of the Vale of Clwyd and Neighbouring Parishes, Bernard Quaritch: London & Oswestry 1886.
An unexcavated ring cairn in a very good state of preservation can be seen in the field immediately west of the River Halladale. Measuring more than 14 yards across east-west and 15 yards north-south, the site stands in association with several other unexcavated cairns.
Folklore
Although some of the cairns here have been found with prehistoric burials in them, tradition tells that the cairns here were the result of “a great battle between the native Pictish inhabitants and the invading Norsemen.” So wrote George Sutherland, many moons ago. He continued:
“The Norsemen were defeated in that battle, and Halladha, their leader, was slain. It is from him that the river and the dale take their name. The battle was fought on a hillside, on the east side of the river and that hillside is covered with cairns which are supposed to mark the graves of those slain in this battle, but the body of Halladha, the norse leader, was interred on the west side of the river, and his sword was laid in the grave beside his body. Near the circular trench where he is said to have been buried there are several heaps of stones which are supposed to mark the graves of other Norsemen of note who fell in the battle.”
References:
Sutherland, G., Folklore Gleanings and Character Sketches from the Far North, John o’ Groats Journal: Wick 1937.
I’m presuming that this burial site is the right one, described in the fine Mr MacGregor’s Peat Fire Flame (1937) as being “by the roadside up near Scallasaig.” There certainly doesn’t appear to be another alternative site close by (though if I’ve got it wrong, someone please lemme know!). This place was, said MacGregor, a site “where the people in olden times used to worship the serpent.”
MacGregor spoke with a local man about the myths here and asked how long it had been associated with serpents.
“Och, about two thousand years,” said Mr John MacRae. “The mound was in the shape of a serpent, and when the chief of the people would die, he would be buried in the head of the serpent..”
He continued, saying, “One from London, that was going about searching things like that, opened the mound, and they found in the mound a big stone coffin with a big stone slab on the top. And there the bowl was found with the ashes of the chief of the people at that time. The bowl was taken to the Manse. That’s about fifty years ago. It was there for a few months; and they took it to Edinburgh, to some museum or something. They were saying that there was a funny noise in the Manse when the bowl was lying there. If there was any treasure in the bowl, or in the grave along with the bowl, it was taken out before. You see, had he any treasure – the chief like – guns and money and the like – I’m sure they wouldn’t be putting much money in the grave. It would be going into the grave with the dead man, so, when he would rise in the next world, he would be ready to start at the same game as he was carrying on here on Earth.”
This sounds a little like the folk-memory of an idea of a heathen afterlife – and of course it’d make sense finding such lore here at a tomb.
I’ve come across references to several other serpent mounds scattering the western side of Scotland, but their exact locations have proven hard to pin down. It makes y’ wonder how many more there once were before the christian paradigm became entangled in the myths of the country people.
References:
MacGregor, Alisdair Alpin, The Peat-Fire Flame: Folk-Tales and Traditions of the Highlands and Islands, Ettrick Press: Edinburgh 1937.
Very little is known about this forgotten heathen water source. It was described in some notes attached on a piece of paper accompanying John Warburton’s description of Lee Hall and its surroundings. The notes were first printed in an early edition of Archaeologia Aeliana and subsquently included in Binnall & Dodds’ (1942) fine survey on the holy wells of the region. It’s exact whereabouts appears to be lost, but it may be either the small pool across from the present Hall, or a small spring found in the edge of the small copse of trees just east of Lee Hall Farm. Does anyone know?
Folklore
Written verbatim in that dyslexic olde english beloved of antiquarians like misself, the only piece of folklore said of this spring of water told:
“At the Lee hall an exclent spring, the vertue is such that if the lady of the Hall dip aney children that have the rickets or any other groone destemper, it is either a speedy cure of death. The maner and form is as followeth: The days of dipping are on Whitsunday Even, on Midsumer Even, on Saint Peeter’s Even. They must bee dipt in the well before the sun rise and in the River Tine after the sun bee sett: then the shift taken from the child and thrown into the river and if it swim…child liveth, but if it sink dyeth.”
The latter sentence echoing the crazy folklore of the christians to identify witches in bygone days!
References:
Binnall, P.B.G. & Dodds, M. Hope, ‘Holy Wells in Northumberland and Durham,’ in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Newcastle-upon-Tyne (4th Series), 10:1, July 1942.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 15942 34208
Also Known as:
Ash Well
Holy Well Ash Well
Pin Well
Archaeology & History
Holy Well Ash on 1852 map
Either right next to, or perhaps now beneath Bradford City’s Valley Parade football ground, was once a very important sacred well site. Known as the Holy Ash Well and variants thereof, this healing spring was of considerable renown to people all around Bradford district in bygone days. The site was illustrated on the 1852 OS map, and there was also a sacred stone adjacent to the well known as the Wart or Pin Stone, which had some animistic healing properties related the waters.
The old well was described by local historian Abraham Holroyd (1873) who said that:
“In Manningham Lane there is a fine well, in old deeds called Hellywell, i.e., holy well, in a field now called Halliwell Ash, now a stone quarry… Near this is the ancient Pin Stone.”
A few years later, in Robert Charles Hope’s (1893) monumental study, he described how,
“This holy well, not far from Manningham Lane, probably derived its name from having at some time been dedicated to some saint. The inhabitants of Bradford were wont in ancient times to resort on Sundays to these wells as a common place of meeting, to drink of the waters and partake of their preternatural virtues.”
Which was another was of saying that he didn’t really know too much about the place!
The Bradford historian William Preston (1933) described this site in one of his early essays, where he informed us that local people knew the accompanying rock hereby as the Ash Stone, due to its proximity and ritual relationship to a great old ash tree (Fraxinus excelsior) that grew next to the well. The mythic history of this particular tree should not be understated: it was a Creation deity par excellence in northern and Viking myths, but whatever old tales and power might once have been had here, in Bradford, they’ve long since been forgotten. But it was the industrial historian William Cudworth (1896) who told the most of this all-but forgotten site, saying:
“On the sloping ground between Belle Vue and the Midland Railway there once existed a spring of water, supposed to have preternatural virtues. The name it bore within present recollection is probably a corruption of Holy-well. The holy wells of England as elsewhere had not all the same virtues attached to them. Some were blessed if used for baptisms, to others were attributed curative properties, especially for sore or weak eyes, while others were supposed to possess mystical powers, insomuch as any article dipped in them became charms or safeguards against witchery. Any traditions associated with the spring at Halliwell (or Holywell) Ash are lost, but certainly in the early part of the present century the place was a favourite resort of the townspeople on Sundays.
“The derivation of the name is doubtful. In the survey of 1638 a close called ” Helliwell Ash” is mentioned as containing 2a. 3r. 26p., but without any indication as to its locality. The spelling of the name is of little moment. Mr. James, in his “History of Bradford,” states that he had seen the place referred to in old deeds as “Helly-well.” By his will, dated May, 1685, Thomas Lister, of Manningham, devised to his two daughters, Juliana Lambrecht and Elizabeth Stapleton, equal shares in two closes of land called “Holywell Ash” and ” Delf Close,” besides other lands in Manningham. In the will disposing of the possessions of Juliana Lambrecht, her moiety of “Holywell Esh” was bequeathed to Francis Stapleton, her nephew. In due course the lands in question were inherited by Francis Sharp Bridges, and have latterly belonged to Sir Francis Sharp Powell, M.P., in whose writings the form of spelling is given as ” Halliwell Ash.”
“Upon the ground in question there used to be a fine well of water issuing out of the higher ground, to which tradition assigned healing virtues. Might not the name of “holy” come from this circumstance? Sufficient importance attaches to the tradition, however, to have led the farmers of the recent ordnance plan of Manningham to preserve the name, although the widening of the Midland Railway below Thorncliffe Terrace has almost obliterated the site.”
A more recent updated overview of the site was written by one of my old school-mates, Dave Pendleton (1997), who said of the place:
“Prior to 1886 the only feature of any real note in the Valley Parade environs was a holy well that emerged near the corner of the football grounds Midland Road and Bradford End stands; hence the road Holywell Ash Lane. Today the site of the well is covered by the football pitch.
Only the road name survives as a reminder of what was apparently one of the district’s foremost attractions. On Sundays and holidays people would gather to take the waters and leave pins, coins, rags and food as offerings to the spirit that resided in the waters.
Accounts suggest that the well was covered and had a great ash tree standing over it (hence ‘holy ash’). There was also a standing stone called the wart stone of unknown antiquity. The stone had a carved depression that collected water. It was believed that the water was a miraculous cure for warts. Indeed, as early as 1638 the Holy Well had been credited with healing powers.
The well suffered a decline in popularity during the late nineteenth century and its keepers resorted to importing sulphur water from Harrogate, which they sold for a half penny per cup. The well disappeared under the Valley Parade pitch during the summer of 1886 and the wart stone was moved to the top of Holywell Ash Lane – which then ran straight up to Manningham Lane. The stone was still there as late as 1911 but thereafter it seems to have disappeared into the mists of time.”
A night-club adjacent to the Valley Parade football ground—called Bibby’s—was said to have had an old well in its cellar, which the owner of the place, Mr Pearl Gladstone Minott, said was ‘haunted’.
Unfortunately I’ve not been able to find any old photos or drawings of this lost holy well – though I imagine that some local, somewhere must be able to help us out with this one. Surely there’s more of this site hidden away somewhere….?
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Cudworth, William, Manningham, Heaton and Allerton, W. Cudworth: Bradford 1896.
‘Standing Stone’: OS Grid Reference – SS 8896 3355
Getting Here
You can’t really miss this. Take the road south from Winsford, up the steep hill onto the moors and before you reach the crossroads, look up across the slope on your left where you’ll see a small building on its own. Go there!
Archaeology & History
A curious upright monolith more than five feet long (though some of this is embedded in the ground) with the words ‘CARAACI NEPVS’ carved on one side, is strangely closetted in a silly ‘house’ of its own on the moortops! But the origins and history of the stone are contentious. Some proclaim it as prehistoric, others Romano-British, and others as being from the Dark Ages. In the 1960s and ’70s, archaeological tradition had its origins in the Romano-British period, and certainly the carved lettering on the sides of the stone seem to indicate a Roman provenance; but as the great Exmoor historian S.H. Burton (1974) told,
“It is possible that the stone was erected hundreds of years before it was inscribed, and the existence of an ancient trackway alongside, leading to the Barle, strengthens this possibility. But, like most things about the Caratacus Stone, this is guesswork.”
We know it stood here in the 13th century as it was described in perambulation records of 1219 and 1279 AD; but it’s more than likely to be a monolith erected in the Dark Ages. Grinsell (1970) however is a little more cautious, telling:
“The likelihood of the person in whose memeory this stone was raised claiming kinship with the Caratacus who was the arch-enemy of Rome, c. AD 45-50, has on more than one occasion been questioned. It is, however, too tempting to be abandoned by the present writer.”
The carving on the stone was deciphered by the legendary Prof. John Rhys at the end of the 1800s, telling it to have been Carataci Nepos, the Kinsman of Caratacus (and variants thereof), who held out against the Romans in south Wales until AD 50. The old Celtic writer, R.A.S. Macalister, thought the stone to have been dedicated to a local christian hero, St. Carantoc, but this notion has been generally dismissed.
Folklore
The old stone is said to be a site where buried treasure exists — though none has ever been found. There is also an old tradition that “ghostly horses and waggons rumble towards the stone at midnight” — but this as likely relates to its proximity with the old crossroads a short distance away.
References:
Burton, S.H., Exmoor, Hale: London 1974.
Grinsell, L.V., The Archaeology of Exmoor, David & Charles: Newton Abbot 1970.
Page, John Lloyd Warden, An Exploration of Exmoor and the Hill Country of West Somerset, Seeley 1890.
Vowles, Alfred, History of the Caratacus Stone, privately printed 1939.
Legendary Tree (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SK 49751 83799
Folklore
This was one of the many sacred trees beneath or next to which, in pre-christian days, tribal councils met. Thanks to the local historians Paul Rowland and Lis Tigi Maguire Coyle (see ‘Comments’, below), the whereabouts of the tree has been located (contrary to my earlier idea that it had sadly died). The local writer Harry Garbutt wrote of it in the 1940s, saying:
“The importance of Harthill in Saxon days may be adduced also from the fact that of the Three Hundreds of the Wapentake, Harthill was one. The Hundred was the Court of local justice and government, and at Harthill would meet under the old Trysting Tree.”
The very word trysting relates to any species of tree that has importance, be it by its appearance or position, and relates to those that were used as traditional or popular meeting sites.
References:
Garbett, Harry, The History of Harthill-with-Woodall and its HamletKivetonPark, Arthur H. Stockwell: Ilfracombe n.d. (c.1948)
Acknowledgements: Massive thanks to Paul Rowland (‘Comments’, below), for information pointing us to the exact spot where our Trysting Tree lived; and to Lis Tigi Maguire Coyle for the additional folklore ‘Comment’, below. Huge thanks to you both!
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 295 329
Archaeology & History
In the Holbeck area of Leeds, one of the three spa wells was previously patronised to this mythical saint, whose wells profuse in this part of the world. St. Helen’s Well (later becoming the Holbeck Spa Well) was found at the appropriately named St. Helens Bridge. Ralph Thoresby (1715) wrote of the place: a supposed medicinal holy well, it previously had a chapel by it, of which no trace is seen today. John Mayhall (1860) also mentioned this “medicinal well,” but told little more. It was Andrea Smith (1982), more than a century later, who wrote the most about the place:
“In connection with the well by St.Helen’s Bridge, Holbeck, (Thoresby) refers to “another ancient fabrik called St. Helen’s,” but there is a difficulty in deciding exactly what he means by ancient; it is taken here as meaning more than two hundred years old. This suggests, then, that by St. Helen’s Bridge there was once a well and chapel which gave rise to the dedication and which was probably a Medieval foundation, considering the popularity of St. Helen at that time.”
Both of these sites have long since disappeared. The well eventually became known as a local Spa Well, and was found to possess a high sulphur content.
References:
Mayhall, John, The Annals of Yorkshire, Joseph Johnson: Leeds 1860.
Smith, Andrea, ‘Holy Wells Around Leeds, Bradford & Pontefract,’ in Wakefield Historical Journal 9, 1982.
Thoresby, Ralph, Ducatus Leodiensis: or the Topography of the Ancient and Populous Town and Parish of Leedes, Robinson & Holdsworth: Leeds 1816.
Follow the same directions as if you’re visiting the Polisher Stone at the top-end of Overton Down where it meets Fyfield Down. From here, walk down the slope for a hundred yards or so where you’ll notice, just above the long grassy level, a line of ancient walling running nearly east to west. It’s very close to the yellow marker in the attached aerial image shot to the right. If you walk along this line of walling you’ll find what you’re looking for.
Archaeology & History
Overton’s Holed Stone
As I’ve only been here once, and briefly — under the guidance of the Avebury expert Pete Glastonbury — my bearings on this site may need revising. There are two distinct sections of walling here: one has been excavated by Peter Fowler and his team; the other hasn’t. (correct me if I’m wrong Pete) And in Fowler’s (2000) fine survey of this area he does not describe this very distinct holed-stone in the line of walling, or adjacent “linear ditch F4”, as it was called. But then, many archaeologists don’t tend to find items such as these of any interest (unless their education stretches to other arenas, which isn’t usually the case). But the stone seems to be in a section of walling that isn’t in their survey; standing out in aerial imagery as a less well-defined, but still obvious line of walling that is closer to the fence, 70-80 yards north, with a decidedly Iron-Age look about it!
But, precision aside! — as you can see in the photos, the holed stone here isn’t very tall — less than 2 feet high; though we don’t know how deep the stone is set into the ground. This spot is on my “must visit again” list for the next time we’re down here!
There’s nowt specific to this stone, nor line of walling, nor settlement (as far as I know), but it seems right to mention the fact that in British and European folklore and peasant traditions, that holed stones just like the one found here have always been imbued with aspects of fertility — for obvious reasons. Others like this have also acquired portentous abilities; whilst others have become places where deeds and bonds were struck, with the stone playing ‘witness’ to promises made.
References:
Fowler, Peter, Landscape Plotted and Pierced: Landscape History and Local Archaeology in Fyfield and Overton, Wiltshire, Society of Antiquaries: London 2000.
