Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NY 37 50
Archaeology & History
Listed in Burl’s (2000) magnum opus, this is another long-lost megalithic ring, whose exact location seems to have been forgotten. An early description of the site by William Whellan (1860) told us that,
“There was formerly a circle of rude stones, ten yards in diameter, near the village, supposed to have been the remains of a Druidical temple; and a little distance from it, was a tumulus, three yards high and eight in diameter.”
More than a hundred years later in Waterhouse’s (1985) fine survey, he described the circle, saying:
“It lay near the village of Dalton…near the River Caldew… An 18th century account describes it as consisting of ‘rude’ stones…set in a circle of diameter about 27m. East of the the centre of the circle were four large stones lying on top of each other. They may have been the remains of a cist, or possibly a tumbled cove, like that inside the circle-henge of Arbor Low in Derbyshire. A tumulus may have stood nearby.”
There are however some discrepancies in the descriptions between Whellan and Waterhouse. In the former, the site of Chapel Flat is talked of separately as being the abode of a hermit in the lost chapel of St. Wynemius, “in a deep and romantic part of the vale of Caldew.” The description of the stone circle immediately follows this, but is spoken of as merely being “near the village.”
Does anyone know anything further about this once important site? Did the lost hermitage on Chapel Flat actually have anything to do with the stone circle?
References:
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Waterhouse, John, The Stone Circles of Cumbria, Phillimore: Chichester 1985.
Whellan, William, The History and Topography of the Counties of Cumberland and Westmoreland, Comprising their Ancient and Modern History, W.Whellan: Pontefract 1860.
Take the road that cuts across the island, west, until you reach the stupid golf-course. Walk across it, heading for the coast (not the building at Culbuirg), then follow the little footpath up until you reach the large rocky rise about 500 hundred yards north. That’s it!
Folklore
Dun Bhuirg on 1881 map
Shown on the 1881 OS map of the region, the small remains of this Iron Age hillfort was said to be the place where St. Columba saw a rain-cloud which he predicted would bring a plague of ulcers to the people of Ireland. To prevent such a plague, Columba thence dispatched a monk called Silnan to Ireland, armed with some bread which he’d blessed. This bread was then dipped in consecrated water and given to those afflicted with the plague, who were thereafter cured.
Wee-ird……
Another tradition told that this old fort was once an important meeting place for the druids, though Geoff Holder (2007) writes that this is little more than a “spurious nineteenth century tradition” which he dismisses as without foundation. Though a short distance from here, he also told how one “Fiona MacLeod” (real name, William Sharp) one night watched the ghost of the Culdee, Oran, a couple of hundred yards away, “and so he never went that way again at night.” In truth, traditions of druidism tend to be animistic traits: legends remembered from pre-christian days, and blanket dismissals of such folklore are themselves untrustworthy—especially on this Isle of the Druids.
References:
Holder, Geoff,The Guide to Mysterious Iona and Staffa, Tempus: Stroud 2007.
This rather delapidated spring of water (there are actually two springs here) marks the western edge of the parish boundary, just on the south-side of the A368 road towards Ubley, on what Phil Quinn (1999) described as “a neglected triangle of shrubby ground.” Its name derives from once being associated with a prehistoric tomb, or barrow, as the associated field-names of Barrows Orchard and Barrow Cross here indicates. Sadly however, all remains of whatever tomb there once was appears to have gone. Aerial imagery shows what may have been two or three barrows in the said field.
Folklore
A haunted site: the folklore here is akin to banshee-lore and similar mythic figures. The fact that it marked the old boundary line between here and Ubley may have something to do with it. Quinn (1999) says how,
“Local folklore states that the well was haunted by the ghost of a woman washing cabbages”!
But this vegetative lore is likely a mistranslation of a local dialect word. Precisely what the spirit was supposedly ‘washing’ seems to have been lost in translation.
References:
Quinn, Phil, The Holy Wells of Bath and Bristol Region, Logaston: Almeley 1999.
Worth checking this if you aint seen it before! Head up to the back (south-side) of Otley Chevin (where the cup-and-ring Knotties Stone lies sleeping), following the road there and park up near/at the Royalty pub. Take the footpath behind the pub which crosses the fields and once into the second field, head diagonally down to the far-left corner. From here, look over the wall — you can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
An intriguing site for various reasons. All we have left to see of any value nowadays is this nigh-on 6-foot tall thick monolith, standing alone in the field halfway between West Carlton and Otley Chevin. Completely missed in local archaeological surveys, the place was mentioned briefly by Slater (1880); though it appears to have been first described in detail by Eric Cowling (1946), who suspected the stone may have Roman origins (though didn’t seem too convinced!), saying that:
“near the ground the section is almost oblong, with sides three-feet six-inches by one-foot ten-inches; two feet from top, the section is almost circular.”
The fact that the stone stands very close to the line of an all-but forgotten Roman road that runs right past it added weight to this thought (the road runs towards a Roman settlement a mile east of here near Yeadon). But this standing stone is unlikely to be Roman. More recent evidence seems to indicate a relationship with a now-lost giant cairn about 100 yards to the south. The only remains we have of this place are scatterings of many small loose stones nearby. And it seems a very distinct possibility that the extra standing stones that were once hereby, stood in a line.
The very first reference I’ve found about this site also indicates that there was more than one stone here in the past! In 1720 this site was known as the ‘Boon Stones’; and the plural was still being used by the time the 1840 Tithe Awards called them the ‘Boul Stones.’ Initially it was thought that both words were plural for “bulls” — as A.H. Smith (1962) propounds in his otherwise superb survey — but this is questionable. (see Folklore)
Folklore
A piece of folklore that seems to have been described first by Philemon Slater (1880) relates to the pastime of bull-baiting here, that is –
“fastening bulls to it when they were baited by dogs, a custom…still known to the Carlton farmers” (North Yorkshire).
Cowling (1946) told that he heard the stone was said to be lucky as well as being a source of fertility. This ‘fertility’ motif may relate to the meaning of the stone’s early name, the Boon Stones. Both boon and boul are all-but obsolete northern dialect words. ‘Boul’ is interesting in its association with a prominent folklore character, as it was used as a contemptuous term “for an old man.” Now whether we can relate this boul to the notion of the ‘Old Man’ in British folklore, i.e., the devil, or satan — as with the lost standing stone of The Old Man of Snowden, north of Otley — is difficult to say.
More interestingly perhaps is the word ‘boon’, as it is an old dialect word for “a band of reapers, shearers, or turf-cutters.” This band of reapers ordinarily consisted of five or six people and would collect the harvest at old harvest times. And as the early description talks of Boon Stones, this plurality would make sense. One curious, though not unsurprising folklore relic relating to these boons was described at another megalithic site (now gone) by John Brand (1908), where in the parish of Mousewald in Dumfries,
“The inhabitants can now laugh at the superstition and credulity of their ancestors, who, it is said, could swallow down the absurd nonsense of ‘a boon of shearers,’ i.e., reapers being turned into large grey stones on account of their kemping, i.e., striving.”
Standing stones with the folklore of them being men or women turned to stone is common all over the world. If we accept the dialect word ‘boon’ as the first name of this old stone, there may once have been some harvest-time events occurred here long ago (and this is quite likely). Equally however, we must also take on the possibility that this Bull Stone has always been a loner and that its name came from the now obsolete Yorkshire word, a bull-steann, meaning a stone used for sharpening tools, or a whetstone.
Take your pick!
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Brand, John, Observations on the Popular Antiquities of Great Britain – volume 2, George Bell: London 1908.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Jackson, Sidney, ‘The Bull Stone,’ in Cartwright Hall Archaeology Group Bulletin, 2:5, 1956.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – 2 volumes, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 7, Cambridge University Press 1962.
Slater, Philemon, The History of the Ancient Parish of Guiseley, William Walker: Otley 1880.
Go up through Baildon centre and head onto the moors. Crossing the cattle-grid, a coupla hundred yards further up, turn left. Past the small reservoirs on your left, another 100 yards or so and you reach the brow of the hill. As you begin going down the road, there’s a small car-park right by the roadside. The curious remains of the earthworks at the side of the old circle are discernible in the grassland right to its side.
Archaeology & History
Illustrated on the 6-inch OS-map of 1852 as “Site of a Barrow” (similar to how it appears in the image drawn here by Mr. C.N.M. Colls) a short distance below Pennythorn Hill top, there are still considerable traces of the earthworks surrounding the east and southern sides of what was once some form of ring cairn or tumulus that was once at this prominent place in the landscape.
Aerial view of siteThe site was first explored by Mr Colls in 1843 (his results were reported a few years later), who found a loose double-ring of stones, fifty feet across, surrounded by a shallow trench which was most notable on the south and east sides. Two urns were also uncovered near the centre of the ring, nearly two feet down, containing the cremated remains of people. A few years later, the Leeds historian James Wardell (1869) told a most fascinating note about what happened during their excavation, saying:
“This…examination was attended by a circumstance not soon to be forgotten by the persons engaged therein (on the excavation). They had almost reached the place where the broken urn and bones were deposited when, at once, such a fearful storm of thunder, lightning and rain came on, that they were not only considerably alarmed, but driven from the Common to seek shelter in the village.”
Colls’ 1846 sketch
We hear this sorta thing at many of our ancient places!
Colls 1846 plan
One anonymous writer in 1955 described the site as a ‘stone circle’, and a number of subsequent archaeologists copied this without question; but in all probability this site was more typical of an old cairn circle or ring-cairn, similar in size and design to the Roms Law circle two miles north of here. However, the earthworks at its side give the impression of some sort of exaggerated hengiform enclosure.
The place-name element howe strongly indicates a burial site and is a suffix found at many prehistoric tombs across northern England. The prefix ‘acre’ may relate to “a plot of arable or cultivated land, a measure of land (an acre) which a yoke of oxen could plough in a day” (Smith 1956), or may be a corrupted form of the Old English word, ‘acen’, relating to oak trees. Early literary examples of the place-name would enable a clearer understanding of the prefix element here.
References:
Anonymous, Colls’ Burial Mound Stone Circle, Baildon Moor, Museum Leaflets: Bradford 1955.
Baildon, W. Paley, Baildon and the Baildons (parts 1-15), St. Catherines: Adelphi 1913-26.
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Eaton: Merseyside 1982.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Colls, J.N.M., ‘Letter upon some Early Remains Discovered in Yorkshire,’ in Archaeologia, 31, 1846.
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J.H., Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Wardell, James, Historical Notes of Ilkley, Rombald’s Moor, Baildon Common, and other Matters of the British and Roman Periods, Joseph Dodgson: Leeds 1869. (2nd edition 1881)
From Bakewell take the A6 Matlock road, follow this till just past the signs for Haddon Hall where you take a right (the first major junction) for Youlgreave the B5056. After about 1km take the first left over the bridge. You then take the first right turn: a steep lane with restriction signs (don’t worry there’s access for cars but no wide vehicles). Take the first left you come to by the barn and then just follow the road, up through the woodland where the lane narrows then shortly after you’ll see Robin Hood’s Stride to your left. Park a little way after the field gateway and look across the field to your left. The stones are visible from the road.
Archaeology & History
This is a fine-looking ring of stones — though perhaps the word ‘ring’ is slightly misleading here, as only four of (apparently) nine originals still remain and they are, by definition, more in a square-shape than a circle! But it’s a lovely site. When Geoff brought us here for the first time only last weekend, despite the dark clouds and cold grey day, along with the fact that we’d been sleeping rough the night before and got soaking wet through, there was a subtle feel to this place which my shivering senses still touched. Only just though…!
Two southernmost stones
Mebbe it was the rising crags of Robin Hood’s Stride to its immediate south? Or the quietly hidden companionship with other stones and sites in the locale? I don’t really think so. There was something a little more about its own genius loci that tingled very slightly on the rise in the field upon which the circle sits. Some people would, perhaps, acquaint my sense of a subtle genius loci here to the various leys or ley-lines that have been drawn through here by other writers— but it wasn’t that.
When earlier writers came here, they too had various inspirations of differing forms. John Barnatt’s (1978) early impressions of the place had him signing astronomical events in and around the remaining stones here, despite knowing that the site had been damaged. In later years he revised his early notions — as most of us do as our perspectives are enriched — but the astronomy is still assumed here. As Clive Ruggles (1999) told:
“Other rings are located where natural features coincide with astronomical events, such as Nine Stone Close in Derbyshire…from which the Moon at the southern major standstill limit, sets behind the gritstone crag of Robin Hood’s Stride to the SSW, between ‘two stubbly piles of boulders jutting up at either end of its flat top.'”
Major Rooke’s drawing of the Nine Stones Circle, c.1780
The stones that remain here are quite tall, between 6½ and 8 feet tall. One of them seems to have originally been taken from a stream or river-bed. They stand upon the small rise in the field and has diameters of 40 and 45 feet respectively. Aubrey Burl described there being seven uprights still here in 1847, and the early drawing of the site near the end of the 18th century by Major Hayman Rooke highlights 6 stones around the spot where the circle now stands. In J.P. Heathcote’s (1947) summary, he wrote that,
“Bateman, in his Vestiges, says an excavation in 1847 yielded some indications of interments in the form of ‘several fragments of imperfectly-baked pottery, accompanied by flint both in a natural and calcined state.’ In 1877, Llewellyn Jewitt and Canon Greenwell…turned their attention…to the Nine Stones. They dug at the foot of the second highest stone and the Canon directed a good deal of digging within the circle, but nothing special turned up. The area in the circle is now quite level, but it is probable that there was, as Bateman says, a tumulus in the centre.”
This latter remark is the impression I got of the place. Tis a really good little site. All around here are a number of other sites: cup-marked stones, enclosures or settlements, prehistoric trackways, and more.
Folklore
One of the old names of this site was The Grey Ladies. This came from the well known tale found at other sites across the world, that some ladies were dancing here at some late hour and were turned into stone. A variation on this theme told how Robin Hood stood on the nearby rock outcrop to the south and pissed over the landscape here, “where seven maidens upon seeing it turned to stone.” In this case, Robin Hood replaced an older, forgotten account of a giant, who forged the landscape and the sites around Harthill Moor.
Another tale — whose origins and nature are allied to that of the petrification of the Grey Ladies — narrated with considerable sincerity by local people, was that the circle was a place where the little people gathered and where, at certain times of the year, “fairy music and the sight of hundreds of dancing shapes around the stones” would happen.
Said by Rickman and Nown (1977) to be “Derbyshire’s most magical ancient site,” they thought the site was on a ley that linked up with Arbor Lowe, less than 5 miles west, crossing a couple of tumuli on its way.
References:
Barnatt, John, Stone Circles of the Peak, Turnstone: London 1978.
Burl, Aubrey, A Guide to the Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 1995.
Clarke, David, Ghosts and Legends of the Peak, Jarrold: Norwich 1991.
Heathcote, J. Percy, Birchover – Its Prehistoric and Druidical Remains, Wilfrid Edwards: Chesterfield 1947.
Rickman, Philip & Nown, Graham, Mysterious Derbyshire, Dalesman: Clapham 1977.
Ruggles, Clive, Astronomy in Prehistoric Britain and Ireland, Yale University Press 1999.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Megalithic Rings, BAR: Oxford 1980.
Taking the roughly north-south road betwixt the village of Elton and the town of Youlgrave, rising up to see the great rock outcrop of Robin Hood’s Stride, park-up by the roadside and walk down the path across the fields to the Nine Stone Close stone circle. Once at the circle, look at the wall immediately south of here (looking towards the great Robin Hood’s Stride rock towers) about 100 yards away and you’ll see a large, nicely-worn ‘standing stone’ in the walling, with another a few yards to its side.
Archaeology & History
Nine Stones monolith, with stone circle behind
It seems like there’s been quite a lot written of this particular stone — much of it deeming, or speculating, that it once had summat to do with the stone circle of Nine Stones Close (which you can see in the background on one of the photos). The local archaeologist and writer, J. Percy Heathcote (1947) told us that around 1819, a Mr Glover said that this stone and a companion stood next to each other, but Mr Heathcote thought that,
“Judging from its size alone, only one of these is large enough to be compared to the stones in the circle.”
Standing Stone and Robin Hood’s Stride in background
Heathcote continued:
“Dr Phillips apparently assumes this stone to be connected with the circle in the same way as the similarly placed King Stone was connected with the Nine Ladies (Stanton Moor). However, it seems more reasonable to suppose that the stone was brought by a farmer into the wall and not that he built the wall up to the standing stone.”
In more modern times however, John Barnatt (1978) thought that this stone was originally in the circle, but “has been moved across the field to the south to act as a gatepost.”
It’d be hugely improbable that it didn’t have summat to do with the stone circle, but exactly what, we can only speculate.
References:
Barnatt, John, Stone Circles of the Peak, Turnstone: London 1978.
Heathcote, J. Percy, Birchover – Its Prehistoric and Druidical Remains, Wilfrid Edwards: Chesterfield 1947.
Park up at Cut Throat bridge on the A57 or alternatively at the huge parking area that’s signposted a little further uphill. Either way, the easiest access point is at Cut Throat Bridge – though be aware the route between the two areas is the narrow grassy verge of the road: take care, kids and dogs on a very short rein! There are many ways to access the circle but I’ll deal with only two here: one, a scramble up the steep bank of the edge; and the other, a longer route which takes in a quite a steep path, but is much easier than the first option if you’re not up for a scramble!
Route 1: The shorter scrambly route – Climb the stile into the wooded area & follow the path till your out of the wood, carry on for another 100 metres then head to your left & up the banking. The circle is thereabouts 40 metres onto the moor in the grassland, not the heather.
Route 2: The longer way but following a relatively easy path – Access the moor via the stile and just follow the path for around ½-mile till it veers to the left at Jarvis Clough & takes a steep route uphill. You then need to head left along the edge for around ¼-mile till you see the circle off to your right in the grassland.
Archaeology and History
Don’t let the bastardization of this site’s name fool you! The seven stones actually number between 9 and 24, depending on the season and the growth around them. They’re laid out in a rough free standing circle around 15.5 metres in diameter.
Hordron Edge looking across to Lose Hill
One of the largest stones to the SW is said to mimic the profile of Lose Hill — which it does sort of if you have a vivid imagination. But it’s not half as close as the top of the stone matches the profile of Lose hill off to your right. It is a complete coincidence of course. The stone has suffered much weathering over the millennia and I’m in no doubt it wasn’t an intended original feature. (see pic, right)
Previously, and at some time preceding the 1992 excavations at the site by John Barnatt, the circle was “tampered” with, leading to a thorough investigation that unearthed several more buried stones, one of which was re-erected.
All in all a fantastically preserved circle and one of the best examples in Derbyshire that’s well worth the effort of a visit. Watch the weather though; as on all but one of my visits I’ve been drenched!. The “wow” factor of this site however, makes that a small price to pay for such an awe-inspiring excursion. With Win Hill and Lose hill looming large to the southwest, Stanage Edge off to the southeast and the great outcrop of Ladybower Tor with it’s rock art to the west, this circle has some of the best scenery of any the circles in Derbyshire.
Folklore
The stone that alleges to line-up with Lose Hill is also known by some of the more imaginitive as the Fairy Stone and there have been reports of strange lights and other phenomena reported around it. I’ve been up here on probably a dozen occasions and never witnessed anything strange — but then I’m often accused of being closed-minded. Another way of saying “non gullible” in my book!
References:
Armitage, Harold, Early Man in Hallamshire, Sampson Low: London 1939.
Barnatt, John, Stone Circles of the Peak, Turnstone: London 1978.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Megalithic Rings, BAR 81: Oxford 1980.
Take the road from Masham into this lovely hamlet and, as you reach the staggered crossroads, you’ll see a small village green with a single tree at where the four roads meet. In the grass below the tree is this forgotten monument!
Archaeology & History
Fearby Cross remains
Found at the meeting point of five old lanes, little has been written about the old cross remnants here, which is barely a foot high and rests on its roughly circular stone base. It sits where five old tracks meet and is thought to be medieval in origin. Speculation alone pronounces the site to have been a place where local council proclamations occurred, and where funerals stopped and the dead were rested.
One intriguing piece of information narrated by Edmund Bogg (1906) that may have had some relevance to the siting of this old cross, told that between here and the hamlet of Healey a mile west,
“there were formerly circles of upright stones and other relics suggestive of druidical origin.”
Any historical information or folklore relating to these apparent megalithic remains needs to be uncovered!
References:
Bogg, Edmund, Richmondshire and the Vale of Mowbray, James Miles: Leeds 1906.
Follow the directions to reach the Devil’s Den, a half-mile north of Clatford up the footpath towards the Fyfield Down cup-marked rock. You can’t miss it! The cup-markings are on the top of the capstone.
Archaeology & History
First described and illustrated by local historian and photographer, Pete Glastonbury, as far as I’m aware these cup-markings have not previously been included in any of Wiltshire’s archaeological surveys (that can’t be, surely?). The only reference I’ve found — not untypically — is from one of the early editions of the english Folklore Journal.
…and again!Devil’s Den cup-markings
At least two well-defined cups stand out on the top of the capstone. Each of them have ‘cracks’ running out of them, with the easternmost one of them (closer to the edge) turning into a channel which runs upwards on the stone, before then leading down off the edge of the rock. Each cup-mark is very clear, about two inches across and about a half-inch deep.
Archaeologists can check these cups out and work out for themselves whether they’re natural or not. They’re far more qualified than I on such matters and may be able ascertain other faint remarks on the stone. The proximity of the nearby Fyfield Down cup-marked rock, several hundred yards to the north, shows that such petroglyphs can be found in this region. Although we cannot expect many examples of rock art in this area (the rock’s damn tough and takes some burrowing into), it is likely that more carvings await discovery.
Folklore
The capstone on which these cup-markings are seen was told to be immovable and had lore said of it akin to that found at the great Whispering Knights, near the Rollright Stones. But the main piece of lore describes the cups quite specifically. In an article by Alice Gomme (1909), she told that:
“if anyone pours water into any of the natural cup-shaped cavities on the top stone at midnight, it will always be found in the morning to be gone, drunk by a thirst-tormented fiend.”
The tale is later repeated in Kathleen Wiltshire’s (1975) survey, where she too mentions the cup-marking (though only one), saying that,
“if a person pours water into the natural cup-shaped cavity on the top stone at midnight it will always be found to be gone in the morning — drunk by the devil.”
This folklore motif — repeated in Grinsell’s (1976) text — is found at rock-art sites in a number of the northern counties, where milk has been poured into the cup-markings (some of which were known as ‘cat stones’) and left overnight for the spirits to drink. In the case we have recorded at Devil’s Den, the spirit of the place seems to have been demonized, as is common.
Miss Gomme (1909) also reported the curious ingredient that the spirit of a white rabbit with glowing eyes would appear on the capstone at midnight and help the devil demolish the site with the aid of eight oxen! On this latter matter, I am duly informed by one-in-the-know that, to “those of us that know the locals and their humour, we just know this tale was made up for a visiting townie!”
References:
Gomme, Alice B., ‘Folklore Scraps from Several Localities’, in Folklore Journal, 20:1, 1909.
Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976.
