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.
Dead easy! From the townships of Grasscroft, Uppermill, or Greenfield, take the legendary moorland road up to Saddleworth tops (A635), keeping your eye on the modern obelisk on the hilltop to your left and you’ll see a large rock outcrop almost next to it. That’s where you’re heading. Once you reach near the moorland level, walk in whatever way you see fit towards the obelisk and large stones. Enjoy…! I s’ppose though, it’d be better for you if you started from the valley bottom at Uppermill and walked up the hill.
Folklore
Seemingly a ritual place of the sun, this fine site was known by the local folk-name of the Druid Stones, according to Jessica Lofthouse. (1976) But more importantly in legend, this great rocky outcrop was the abode of an old giant called Alphin, who had a rival called Alder who also wandered the moors here. Both these giants vied for the hand of a lady called Rimmon, who preferred Alphin to Alder. In good old fashioned ways they contested for her hand, throwing giant rocks across the moors at each other, but “Alphin was hit and killed, with Rimmon looking on.” His grave lies on these moors somewhere, seemingly unfound. …And intriguingly it seems that we’ve actually located a prehistoric tomb which may account for the legend of Alphin’s death! (Watch this space!)
A slight variation on the tale describes the Lady Rimmon to be of fairy stock, named ‘Raura Peena’ (a phonetic spelling of a local dialect name), who in one account from the Notes & Queries journal, 1850, tried luring a local man into her magickal recess of the Fairy Holes, on the slopes beneath the Pots and Pans Stone.
Local tradition also tells that the naturally-worn ‘bowls’ atop of the rocks held magical properties — water being collected from them was said to be good to cure eye problems. This is a curative theme we find at some bullauns, cup-marked stones and old cross-bases and would strongly indicates that pre-christian practices did once take place here.
References:
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Robert Hale: London 1976.
In terms of getting here, follow the directions given by H.C. Collins (1946), who reached here from Healey, north of Rochdale. “Once past Lousy Hillock the track continues in front of Brown House Reservoir… The track climbs Faffelty Brow under the lea of Man Stone Edge on the left”, above the Rossendale Way footpath. You can of course come straight up from Whitworth, heading up the eastern hill over Lobden golf course. The site’s to the northeast edge of the course.
Folklore
I first read of this a couple of decades back, in Jessica Lofthouse’s (1976) folklore book, but her pronunciation of the site — which I sought and sought, without success — made finding the place really troublesome. Thankfully, the local guidebook of Harold Collins (1946) has brought this site into focus once more and, it would seem, the probable site of prehistoric archaeological remains. But until we get over here and have a good look round, that aspect of the Man Stone will have to await assessment.
Collins (1946) described the “huge stone on the moortop on the left of the track” he’d been walking along, telling how “according to legend it bears the imprint of a human hand and was thrown (here) from Blackstone Edge by Robin Hood.”
Lofthouse (1976) told similarly when she was describing the folklore of Robin Hood’s Bed, about six miles east of here, by the Yorkshire-Lancashire border, saying,
“Robin was a mighty hurler as well as a bowman without peer. To while away waiting time in the Bed he took a large boulder from the giant’s overspill at hand, threw it and watched its course. Six miles away on Monstone Edge that boulder dropped, a feat amazing , and has been called Robin Hood’s Quoit ever after!”
But the “quoit”, said Lofthouse, was there centuries before any legendary Robin Hood — as it would have been. As far as I can find though, no such prehistoric relic ‘officially’ exists upon this hill. But as those of us who’ve been into seeking these old sites know, that doesn’t necessarily mean a thing. Henry Fishwick’s (1889) notes about the markings on the rock — “and certain impressions on its surface are said to be the marks of the fingers and thumb of the thrower” —may also prove fruitful.
Adding fuel to an authentic animistic history is the existence, once, of the Old Man’s consort: his Old Woman, or Cailleach, whose well and other landscape features existed to the north. Much of our peasant history is clearly just beneath the surface in this unexplored archaeomythic region…
References:
Collins, H.C., Rambles round Rochdale, Thomas Yates: Rochdale 1946.
Fishwick, Henry, History of the Parish of Rochdale, James Clegg: London 1889.
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Robert Hale: London 1976.
Probably the easiest way to get here is by starting on the Moor Road above Burley Woodhead, where the road crosses the Rushy Beck stream. Looking upstream, follow the footpath up the right-hand side of the waters, nearly all the way to the top. Where it crosses a footpath near where the moor begins to level out, look up to your right and you’ll see the raised crown of stones a coupla hundred yards off path, NNW. That’s it!
Archaeology & History
This very large Bronze Age cairn was reported by Faull & Moorhouse (1981) to have been surrounded by a multiple stone circle, citing it to have been shown as such on an estate map of Hawksworth Common in 1734. When I contacted the Yorkshire Archaeology Society to enquire about this map, it could not be located. (This needs to be found!) No evidence of such a stone circle presently remains, though there were at least two standing stones once to be seen at the edge of this tomb, though only one of them — now laid more than five-feet long in the heather — is still evident on the western side of this giant tomb. But anyone who might know anything about the 1734 Estate Map – pleeeeez gerrit copied or take a photo of it! Then stick it on TNA so everyone can see whether the circle surrounded this, or the Great Skirtful of Stones, 500 yards to the south.
Single cup-marked stone on outer edge of Little Skirtful
The Little Skirtful is in better condition than its big brother on the hill to the south and — unlike the Great Skirtful — there are said to be at least five cup-marked stones amidst the great mass or rocks constituting this site. There could be more. The carvings are just single cup-markings etched onto small portable stones, typical of sites like this. They are found near the centre above a small cist and outwardly towards the northern edges of the cairn (for more info about them, see the main entry for the Little Skirtful Carvings).
It’s been said by Stan Beckensall (1999, 2002) that no cup-marked rocks “are known near…the really large cairns” on the moor—meaning the Little Skirtful and her allies—but this isn’t true as there are at least 4 definite carvings (a possible fifth seems likely) on the moorland immediately around the Little Skirtful. Though to give Beckensall his due, if he got his data from the Ilkley archaeologists, his information isn’t gonna be too accurate, as they’re quite unaware of many sites on these moors! A good number of local people have a much greater knowledge-base on such matters than those in paid offices, as this and other websites clearly shows. The times they are a-changin’, as one dood said, not so long ago…!
Folklore
Paul Bowers & Mikki on top for scale!
The creation myth of this place tells that the giant Rombald (who gives his name to the moor) was in trouble with his wife and when he stepped over to Almscliffe Crags from here, his giant wife – who is never named – dropped a small bundle of stones she was carrying in her apron. (In traditional societies elsewhere in the world where this motif is also found, it tends to relate to the site being created by women.) Harry Speight (1900) tells us of a variation of the tale,
“which tradition says was let fall by the aforementioned giant Rumbalds, while hastening to build a bridge over the Wharfe.”
Variations on this story have said it was the devil who made the site, but this is a denigrated christian variant on the earlier, and probably healthier, creation tale. Similar tales are told of the Great Skirtful of Stones, 500 yards south.
References:
Beckensall, Stan, British Prehistoric Rock Art, Tempus: Stroud 1999.
Beckensall, Stan, “British Prehistoric Rock Art in the Landscape,” in G. Nash & C. Chippindale’s European Landscapes of Rock Art, Routledge: London 2002.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAA 2003.
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J. Horsfall, Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Colls, J.N.M., ‘Letter upon some Early Remains Discovered in Yorkshire,’ in Archaeologia 31, 1846.
Cowling, E.T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Faull & Moorhouse, West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey – volume 3, WYMCC: Wakefield 1981.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Wood, Butler, ‘Prehistoric Antiquities of the Bradford District,’ in Bradford Antiquary, volume 2, 1901.
Dead easy! Get to Ilkley train station and look across the road to your left, cross it and walk along. 100 yards on is Cowpasture Road. Walk up it! You’ll be at the rocks in 10-15 minutes.
Archaeology & History
Cow & Calf Rocks from above – thanks to Ian Hay’s superb ‘Yorkshire from the Air’
There’s nowt specifically archaeocentric directly relating to these great rocks — well, nowt that’s been found out about anyway! — though all around here over the last coupla centuries people have found numerous flints, and we have various examples of rock-art (cup-and-rings) carved on rocks close by. There have been attempts to verify what may be cup-marks on both the Cow and the Calf — with the old master, Harry Speight (1900) telling how there used to be remains of cups and lines on the rocks, but apart from some well-worn ‘cups’ on some of the edges, these seem hard to find. For worrits worth: if Speight said there were some carvings here, its more than likely true.
I think the main relationship ancient man would have had with this great rock outcrop would have been a ritual one: the rocks themselves had no need of human imprints: their size and nature would deem them of great spirit indeed, to anyone with an ounce of feeling. Not sure that’s the way most modern folk would see things – but that’s to be expected I s’ppose!
Folklore
These grand rocks once had the even greater Bull Rock as a close companion. It was on top of this, wrote Eric Lodge (1939:40), that,
“the only point in the immediate vicinity of Ilkley from which a view of York Minster was obtainable. ‘Tis some sixty years ago, however, that a local tradesman recognised its value in building stone, and despite strong protests, quarried it for the construction of the Crescent Hotel, situated at the corner of Brook Street and Leeds Road in Ilkley.”
The matter was described in the Leeds Mercury in 1899, thus:
“About the year 1850 an act of vandalism was perpetrated at Ilkley, which would have been impossible in these days, when the Ilkley Local Board watches with such a keen eye anything that may enhance the historical interest of this rapidly increasing watering-place.
“Below the two huge rocks known as ‘The Cow and Calf,’ which have attracted thousands of visitors and invalids on to the breezy heights whereon they stand, stood a rock larger than the Calf, which was known as the ‘Bull.’ It was much nearer the highway than the Calf…
“The ‘Bull’ rock had its name cut in large letters on the side that lay nearest the road, and it is much to be regretted that an unfortunate dispute between the owners of the free-hold and the lord of the manor, in which the former won the day, gave them the right to break up this noble rock and cart it away for building purposes. It is said that the Crescent Hotel was mainly built from this stone, so some idea may be formed of its vast size and proportions.”
Incredible – they’ve turned a gigantic sacred rock into a large hotel! (and I’ve never been in it) Let’s hope it’s haunted to buggery! Does anyone know any Fortean history about the place?
Another legend tells that one day the local giant, Rombald (who gave his name to these moors and lived up here, somewhere, with his even greater but unnamed wife), decided to meet a friend a few miles away to the east, at Almscliffe Crags. So in just one step he strode over the Wharfe valley right across to the legendary crags, but he slightly stumbled and in doing so, left he footprint embedded on the face of the Cow Rock, which can still be seen today.
In modern times, the Cow & Calf have been the centre for occasional UFO, or earthlight sightings. But this appears to go back a bit earlier than when such curious light-forms were thought of as visiting ETs; for good old Nicholas Size (1936) reported seeing burning lights and curious figures up here — but when he saw these lights they took the form of druids and pagan spirits. One wonders what they’ll morph into next!
Although apparently long gone, we could find this giant prehistoric tomb on the eastern side of the great Ingleborough and was one of many with this name once scattering the mid-Pennines. It was found less than a mile south of the hamlet of Selside, a few miles above Horton-in-Ribblesdale, on the west side of the B6479 and its existence is thankfully preserved in the place-name, ‘Borrens’, where the giant tomb was once found, 200 yards south of Gill Garth Farm. If you look on the OS-map, you’ll notice an ancient settlement site close by.
Archaeology & History
In 1892, the great Yorkshire historian Harry Speight told us:
“We have no proper account of it, but it was doubtless ransacked and removed in the expectation of finding treasure. It is mentioned…in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1761, as follows:
‘In the valley above Horton, near the base of this mountain (Ingleborough), I observed a large heap or pile of greet-stones all thrown promiscuously together, without any appearance of building or workmanship, which yet cannot be reasonably thought to be the work of Nature. Few stones are found near it, though ’tis computed to contain 400 of that country cart-loads of stones, or upwards. There is likewise another at the base north-east, in resemblance much the same, but scarce so large.'”
Speight speculated that it may have been raised to commemorate “some dire conflict between the Romans and the native hill tribes, as it lay on the old Roman thoroughfare across Ribblehead to the camp under Smearside.” We may never know this for sure, but there are plenty of Iron- and Bronze Age remains scattering this region – and just a few hundred yards south of this lost cairn are the old remnants of an ancient settlement…whose pages and images (it is hoped) will appear on TNA in the near future…
References:
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements, volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Smith, A.H., Place-Names of the West Riding, volume 6, Cambridge University Press 1961.
Speight, Harry, The Craven and Northwest Yorkshire Highlands, Elliott Stock: London 1892.
Best approached from Haworth and then walking along the Bronte Way footpath onto the moors (ask at the local Tourist Info if you aint sure). A few hundred yards along, cross the ‘Bronte Bridge’ and keep following the footpath up until you get past the trees and get onto the moors. Once on the heathland, a few hundred yards along keep your eyes to the right and at least one of the two stones here will appear!
Archaeology & History
The original Cuckoo Stone
This is a fascinating little site that has been mentioned in a few old local history guides, including John Lock’s Guide to Haworth (c.1965). First described in 1852 and only briefly noted in passing by Horsfall Turner (1879), the place was previously thought to have comprised just one standing stone, but in recent years explorations by Mark Davey and I found there to be two standing stones close to each other. They are not marked on any maps and are unknown even to many local people. However, the place once had a bit of a reputation (see folklore) and seemed to be well known in the region when the cult of the Church was at its height!
Both of the stones are between three and four feet tall, but the westernmost of the two was probably much taller in bygone days – that’s because the top of the stone was vandalised in centuries past, presumably by some christians if the folktale is anything to go by! On the north-facing side of the western stone is the faint carved outline of an old cross, first described by local historians in the 1960s. It’s faint, but you can work it out if your eyes work properly! The newly-recovered (July 2005) easternmost stone is in two sections, with the very top of it having been hacked off in centuries gone by, as seen in the photos.
The second Cuckoo Stone, resurrected!
When we unearthed the previously unknown Cuckoo Stone (which was laid in the earth and covered with heather and peat), a small deposit of quartz crystals was found in the original socket beneath it when we came to stand the stone back in position. Question is: who put the quartz there? The original builders, or the nutters who knocked it down? And then we might ask: what was the reason behind placing a large handful of quartz beneath the standing stone?
In the heather beyond, about thirty yards to the north, we also find what looks like the remains of an old prehistoric tomb. If we make sense of the Cuckoo Stone’s folklore, we can safely assert that these monoliths were the spirit-home of the old dood/s buried in the tomb behind…
Tis a lovely little place…
There’s also something from that strange electromagnetic-anomaly region attached to this site, well-known to students exploring the physics of megalithic sites. When my lovely friend Mark – “grope me baby! grope me!” – Davey and I rediscovered the second Cuckoo Stone, Mark brought with him a device that measures fluctuations in electromagnetic radiation. The readings taken were fine just about everywhere (background, with minor fluctuations), apart from two very curious straight lines which ran either side of the burial mound down towards the two Cuckoo Stones, with radiation readings being between 10 and more than 60 times above background! The highest readings came from those closest to the burial mound, with levels dropping as we approached the standing stones. Such magnetic anomalies have been found at a number of megalithic sites in the UK, as described in Paul Devereux’s Place of Power (1989) and other books. But the fact that the anomaly lines here seemed to run in lines would be something that those ley enthusiasts would no doubt be intrigued by!
Folklore
The creation myth of this site tells that once, long ago, a great giant lived upon these old moors. He wasn’t a good giant though, from all acounts: robbing and persecuting those who would venture onto the hills hereabouts. The local people wouldn’t dare venture onto the moors and they long sought for a hero who’d be able to sort him out! This eventually happened and in a great fight, our unnamed hero caught and killed the old giant. But just as the giant was about to die, he used his ancient magick powers and, “with a magical groan, he did transform before them and became the Cuckoo Stone.”
But that wasn’t the end of the matter because, as our unnamed hero realised, knowing that the head was the seat of the soul, even in his petrified stoney state the giant may one day recover his life, and so he chopped off the top of the Cuckoo Stone and rolled it into the valley below, dismembering the ‘head’ from the giant, seemingly forever…
It is said that the winnings of this old giant, stolen from his countless victims, are hidden somewhere high upon these hills, awaiting the shovel of some fortunate treasure hunter!
The motif of this tale is universal and archaic, echoing traditional or aboriginal lore from elsewhere in the world. The tale is a simple one: originally the ‘giant’ was a local hero, chief or medicine man who lived on these hills and the Cuckoo Stones his petrified body, and with the incoming christian cult, the giant became demonised. It seems that the ingredient of the giant’s death may infer a burial of sorts and, a hundred yards behind the Cuckoo Stones (both of whom have had their ‘heads’ hacked off), is a mound of earth which, when seen after all the heather’s been burnt away, has all the hallmarks of a prehistoric tomb (it is seen in the top photo above, as the mound in the background behind the standing stones).
Dead easy to find! Turn off the A1(M) at the A6055 Boroughbridge road and head into town. Turn left after the Three Arrows Hotel, down Roecliffe Lane and the stones are a few hundred yards down, close to the motorway. The tallest is just off the road to the left, behind a gate (the owner of the adjacent house there is very pleasant), whilst the other two are across the road in the fields.
Archaeology & History
Devil’s Arrows (Percy Robinson, c.1895)
To many archaeo-megalithic and folklore fans, these huge standing stones need no introduction. These great heathen Arrows of the devil, today at least, are three gigantic standing stones, each one weighing several tons at least, standing in a rough straight line, nearly north-south. This is the greatest single stone-row anywhere in the British Isles.
Just how many standing stones originally stood here is difficult to say. We know from the records of early antiquarians and travellers that we had at least five Arrows here in centuries gone by; but one curious account, mentioned by the Yorkshire antiquarian Edmund Bogg (1895) more than a hundred years ago told:
“Peter Franck, a fisherman who travelled much about the world to enjoy his sport, came to Boroughbridge in 1694 and says he saw seven of these standing stones, Dr Stukeley mentions five, and John Leyland, in his travels, saw ‘four great stones wrought by man’s hands,’ but no inscription upon them. Camden, in 1592, saw four, but one of them at the time was thrown down, ‘for,’ says he, ‘the accursed love of gain.’ Part of this one is still to be seen, built into the Peggy Bridge which crosses the Tut on the entrance to the town, the top portion being preserved in the grounds of Aldborough Manor and this goes far to prove — and I have very carefully considered the question and examined the ground — that the original number of stones was far greater, and reached from the Yore, in equal distances to the Tudland of Leyland’s time, or the Staveley Beck of today. If this argument is correct, 2000 years ago there would be a line of at least 12 standing monoliths guarding the western approach to Isur Brigantium.”
John Aubrey’s 1687 plan Devil Arrows Stone CircleWill Stukeley’s 1776 image
Well y’ never know! But who was this Peter Franck chap from the 17th century? It would be good to find out more of what he said.
But this notion of there being a great many more stones here than the four or five that are accepted as standard, isn’t just to be found in the annals of some lost fisherman. The great Royalist antiquarian John Aubrey came here in September 1687 and, as illustrated here, saw the remaining three upright stones as remnants of a concentric ring of stones of obviously gigantic proportions. Following from a rough survey of the site and descriptions from local people, Aubrey placed the standing stones in their old line, of
“A. B. C. D., and I have drawn two imaginary circles in which it may be supposed that stones were placed, as at Avebury, Stonehenge, etc. Perhaps they might be more stones in each circle than I have fancied.”
Nearly two hundred years later, archaeologist John Ackerman (1847) echoed John Aubrey’s notion (or perhaps simply copied them) in his notion of the Devil’s Arrows once being part of a greater megalithic complex, saying,
“At Rudston and Boroughbridge, in Yorkshire, are supposed examples of maenhirs. Near the latter place there are four standing in a row, which are called by the country people the Devil’s Bolts; but, from their relative position, it is not unlikely that they are the remains of a large circle.”
Devil’s Arrows (from Smith’s ‘Reliquiae’)The top 2 Arrows
As if to tempt further enquiry, or at least require suitable explanation, is the nearby field-name of ‘Kringelker,’ or Cringles Carr — last described in 1316 — and which means very simply a circle by the marsh, or circular marsh, or variants thereof. (Source: Yorkshire Deeds, volume 4,YAS: Leeds 1904)
But prior to John Aubrey’s speculations on the Arrows being part of a giant ring of stones, he related the earliest survey done here, by a local (unnamed) man on April 17, 1669, telling that:
John Aubrey’s 1687 sketch of the Arrows
“In Yorkshire near Burrough-brig on the west side of the Fosse-way, about a quarter of a mile, (in the Lordship of Alburgh) stand three pyramidish stones called the Devills Arrowes. The Arrow standing towards the south is seven yards and a half in height: the compasse of it five yards and a half. The middle Arrow seven yards and a half, in compass six yards. The Arrow towards the north in height five yards and a half, in compass seven yards. Here was another stone that stood in a straight line, at D, that was taken down and a bridge made of it.”
Other regal antiquarians and learned writers of the period came soon after. When William Camden (1695) visited the place at the end of the 16th century, he was equally impressed and described the place as follows:
“Not farre beneath there standeth by Ure a little towne called Burrowbridge, of the bridge that is made over the river: which is now built very high and faire of stone worke, but in King Edward the Second his time it seemeth to have beene of wood. For wee read that when the Nobles of England disquieted this king and troubled the state, Humfrey Bohun Earle of Hereford in his going over it was at a chinke thereof thrust through the body about his groine by a souldiour lying close under the bridge. Neere unto this bridge Westward wee saw in three divers little fields foure huge stones of pyramidall forme, but very rudely wrought, set as it were in a streight and direct line. The two Pyramides in the middest, whereof the one was lately pulled downe by some that hoped, though in vaine, to finde treasure, did almost touch one another. The uttermore stand not far off, yet almost in equall distance from these on both sides. Of these I have nothing else to say but that I am of opinion with some that they were monuments of victorie erected by the Romans hard by the high street that went this way. For I willingly overpasse the fables of the common people, who call them the Devills Bolts, which they shot at ancient cities and therewith overthrew them. Yet will not I passe over this, that very many, and those learned men, thinke they are not made of naturall stone in deed, but compounded of pure sand, lime, vitriol (whereof also they say there bee certaine small graines within), and some unctuous matter. Of such a kinde there were Rome cisterns, so firmely compact of very strong lime and sand, as Pliny writeth, that they seemed to be naturall stones.”
Another early antiquary, John Leland, also passed by here a few hundred years back and wrote the following after his visit:
“A little without this Towne on the west part of Watiling-Streate stadith 4 great maine stones wrought above in conum by Mannes hand. They be set in 3 several Feldes at this Tyme. The first is a 20 foote by estimation in higeth and an 18 foote in cumpace. The stone towards the ground is sumwhat square, and so up to the midle, and then wrought with certen rude boltells in conum. But the very toppe thereof is broken of a 3 or 4 footes. Other 2 of like shap stand in another feld a good But shot of: and the one of them is bigger then the other; and they stand within a 6 or 8 fote one of the other. The fourth standith in a several feld a good stone cast from the other, and is bigger and higher than any of the other 3. I esteme it to the waite of a 5 Waine Lodes or more.
Inscription could I none find yn these stones; and if there were it might be woren out; for they be sore woren and scalid with wether.
I take to be a trophaea a Romanis posita in the side of Watheling Streat, as yn a place most occupied in Yorneying ad so most yn sighte.”
Possible cup-marks on northernmost Arrow
Rock Art on the Devil’s Arrows
Although Leland told us he could find no inscriptions on the stones, he missed some which may be much older than the purely Roman marks his nose was seeking. Cup-and-ring stones — much in vogue nowadays thanks to the new, shamanically-inspired archaeo’s — aren’t etched here in anything like the styles expected of our Swastika Stone, or the Achnabreck carvings, but cup-markings seem to occur on the northernmost stone. Although a rather myopic bunch of earth-mystery people thought they were the first to discovered the cup-markings here in 2005, they were in fact first described way back in 1866, in Sir James Simpson’s precursory essay to his Archaic Sculpturings (1867), where he told:
“In England the most striking and magnificent group of monoliths that I have seen are the so called Devil’s Arrows at Borough-Bridge, in Yorkshire. Three only of these tall and enormous monoliths are now left, and stand in a line about a stone’s throw from each other. They are all pillars of a squarish shape, and said to bo formed of millstone grit. Two of them are above twenty-two feet in height, and the third measures eighteen feet. Each at its upper part is deeply and vertically guttered, apparently by long weathering and exposure ; and their lower portions show round, smooth, cup-like excavations upon some of their surfaces. The most northerly of these imposing monoliths is especially marked in this last way. Many, if not all, of these excavations, have probably been effected by the elements and weather; while some of them, which look more artificial, are of the same shape and form as those on the Kilmartin stones, etc. But unfortunately we have not here the presence of rings or circles around the cups to determine conclusively their artificial character.”
The central Arrow
Some of the cup-markings here are distinctly artificial; but as with these ancient non-linear designs in general, we are unable to ascertain any specific ‘meaning’ to them at this site, even in any mythic sense — as yet! (I’ll get some images of cup-markings next time I visit the Arrows, unless someone has some going spare!)
Folklore
Described by Bob Mortimer (1860) as a gathering place of the druids, who “met here to celebrate their great quarternal sacrifice”; not unsurprisingly there are a variety of other fascinating creation myths and folklore motifs raising their usual heads by these great stones. Mortimer told of more tales following his local society’s visit here at the end of the 1850s, saying:
“There lived a very pious old man (a Druid should we imagine) who was reckoned an excellent cultivator of the soil. However, during each season at the time his crops had come to maturity they were woefully pillaged by his surrounding neighbours; so that at this, he being provokingly grieved, the Devil appeared, telling the old man if he would only recant and throw away his holiness he should never more be disturbed in his mind, or have whatever he grew stolen or demolished. The old man, like Eve in the garden, yielded to temptation, and at once obeyed the impulse of Satan for the benefit of worldly gain. So when the old man’s crops were again being pillaged, the Devil threw from the infernal regions some ponderous arrows, which so frightened the plunderers by shaking the earth that never more was he harrassed in that way. Hence the name of the ‘Devil’s Arrows.'”
Another individual told me that it was believed by some that the stones sprung up one night in the very places they now occupy.”
Very close to the Arrows are antiquarian records of other sites which someone can hopefully throw more light on, as they may have had some relationship with the stones. Immediately west were (are?) the Penny Stones; plus a place called Bell’s Wife’s Field (Bel as a sun-god – though his wife may imply the moon). And just a few hundred yards east is the old Lady Well, mentioned elsewhere.
…to be continued…
References:
Ackerman, John Yonge, An Archaeological Index to the Remains of Antiquity of the Celtic, Romano-British and Anglo-Saxon Periods, J.R. Smith: London 1847.
The Stranger’s Guide; Being a Concise History & Description of Boroughbridge, John Mitchell: Boroughbridge 1846.
Bennett, Paul, The Devils Arrows, Heathen Earth: Keighley 2009.
Bogg, Edmund, From Eden Vale to the Plains of York, Goodall & Suddick: Leeds n.d. (c.1895)
Bogg, E., Richmondshire and the Vale of Mowbray (volume 1), Elliott Stock: London 1906.
Brayshaw,Thomas, ‘The Yorkshire Portions of Leland’s Itinerary,’ in YAJ 10, 1889.
Burl, Aubrey, ‘The Devil’s Arrows,’ in YAJ 63, 1991.
Burl, Aubrey, From Carnac to Callanish, Yale: New Haven & London 1993.
Camden, William, Britannia, or a Chorographical Description of Great Britain and Ireland, Edmund Gibson: London 1695.
Devereux, Paul & Thomson, Ian, The Ley Hunter’s Companion, Thames & Hudson: London 1979.
Elgee, F. & H.W., The Archaeology of Yorkshire, Methuen: London 1933.
Forrest, Bob & Behrend, Michael, ‘The Devil’s Arrows on Target,’ in The Ley Hunter,no.107, 1989.
Lawson-Tancred, Lady, A Guide Book to the Antiquities of Aldborough and Boroughbridge, J. Topham: Boroughbridge 1948.
Leadman, A.D.H., ‘The Devil’s Arrows,’ in The Antiquary, 1903.
Leland, J.J., The Itinerary of John Leland the Antiquary, Fletcher & Pote: Oxford 1770.
Lewis, A.L., ‘The Devil’s Arrows, Yorkshire,’ in Journal. Anthr. Institute, 8, 1878.
Longworth, Ian H., Regional Archaeologies: Yorkshire, Cory, Adams & Mackay: London 1965.
Lukis, W.C., ‘The Devil’s Arrows,’ in Proc. Soc. Antiquaries London, volume 7, 1877.
Lukis, W.C. (ed.), The Family Memoirs of the Rev. William Stukeley – volume 3, Surtees Society: Durham 1887.
Mee, Arthur, Yorkshire, West Riding, Hodder & Stoughton: London 1941.
Mortimer, Robert, ‘The Great Monoliths at Boroughbridge,’ in The Geologist journal, London 1860.
Phillips, Guy Ragland, Brigantia, RKP: London 1976.
Radley, J., ‘Prehistory of the Vale of York,’ in YAJ 1974.
Ross, Frederick, Legendary Yorkshire, William Andrews: Hull 1892.
Simpson, James Y., Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles, etc., upon Stones and Rocks in Scotland, England and Other Countries, Edmonston and Douglas: Oxford 1867.
Smith, A.H., Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire (volume 5), EPNS: Cambridge 1963.
Smith, Henry E., Reliquiae Isurianae, J.R. Smith: London 1852.
Somerville, Boyle, The Devil’s Arrows: Prehistoric Stone Monuments and their Orientation, B.A. Handbook, 1927.
Stukeley, William, Itinerarium Curiosum (volume 2), London 1776.
Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Stone Rows and Standing Stones, BAR: Oxford 1990.
Turner, T.S., History of Aldborough and Boroughbridge, Arthur Hall: London 1853.
Tutin, John, ‘Theory about the Three Arrows,’ Yorkshire Life 3, 1954.
Walford, John. ‘An early description of the Devil’s Arrows, Boroughbridge, North Yorkshire,’ in Yorkshire Archaeological Journal, 79, 2007.
Wood, E.S., ‘The Grooves on the Devil’s Arrows, Boroughbridge,’ PPS 13, 1947.
Paul, Danny and I came here via the Feizor village route, zigzagging about, to and fro, seeing the other old sites in the region; but the easier direct way to get here would be from Settle. Walking through Settle, going out of the top end of town, cross the old bridge and take the country-lane on the right, up northwards towards Stackhouse. A mile along the road (shortly before Stackhouse), a footpath on your left veers up diagonally through a small copse of woods. Go up here and out the other side of the trees, the path turns left and up over the fields. Go up here, and over the third wall along the footpath, you’ll see a large overgrown pile of rocks 30 yards in front of you with a large stone laid roughly in its middle. You’re here!
Archaeology & History
This is an excellent though much neglected prehistoric cairn of some considerable proportions, its rocky mass laying half-covered in deep earth and grasses, yet with still a very large section of it open to the elements. The creature is nearly 30 yards across and some 4 yards high — though it’s hard to say with any certainty, where exactly the natural Earth begins and the cairn starts. But from whichever way you look at this large cairn, walking around the overgrown features, you know it’s a big thing — similar in size and nature to the Great Skirtful of Stones on Burley Moor, and the neolithic cairn on Bradley Moor, near Skipton.
Paul & Danny atop o’ t’ pileBear’s photo, looking SW
On the modern OS-map there are 2 ancient cairns marked close to each other — and our “Apronful of Stones” is the lower one of the two.
In recent years the site was described briefly in Dixon’s (1991) Journey through Brigantia, but there’s been very little written about the place in modern archaeological surveys. The first account I’ve found of the site was written by an anonymous “W.F.” in The Gentleman’s Magazine of 1784. In a detailed lengthy essay, the following words were penned:
“This barrow, or tumulus, stands in an elevated situation, upon a mountain, above the hamlet of Stackhouse, and may be discerned at a great distance…
“The form of this vast mass is circular, or rather orbicular ; the height, by computation on the spot, about 9 or 10 feet. It is composed of an incredible quantity of stones, piled in such a manner as to rest upon each other’s basis, and strengthened by its conic form, it rises upwards in this curious shape. Those stones that form the outside of the work are so small that a soldier could carry them; and since it has been argued that such a monstrous work as this would not be attempted by any nation, but was natural, the largeness of the tumulus may easily be accounted for, since they were annually increased out of reverence…
“This barrow had been opened many years ago, and it is represented in the plate in the state in which it has appeared till lately. Some old people in the neighbourhood remember its being entirely complete, and having a very flat top. It was usual, in finishing these works, to lay a flat stone at the top. The people that opened it left their intention unfinished, only throwing down the lid of the stone coffer, and one or two of the sides; and, meeting with nothing worth digging for, they left it. Upon examining it in this state, before its being entirely disfigured in the last attempt, I found several human bones scattered up and down therein, amongst which I selected the patelae of the knee, the vertebrae of the spine, part of the jaw, and several teeth.
“Round the area is a wall or rampart, of the same materials as the outside, its height from the interior part about 2 feet, irregularly ranged with fissured remnants. In the centre of the cavity or area is the above chest, consisting of several huge stones of vast magnitude and density, fixed firmly into the ground, which supported a lid of equal size, though it is now thrown off the top. In this chest are partitions, for what purpose is not known, unless each space was allotted to its particular relique or body. In the partitions and sides of the coffin is a kind of hole in the edge, with a rude mould. (my italics, PB) Not many weeks ago, the curiosity of some of the neighbourhood was excited to investigate this stupendous work of art, and accordingly labourers were hired, when, upon searching a day (yet not half the work done), a human skeleton was found, in due proportion, and in a fine state of preservation, excepting the skull and one of the limbs, which were moved out of their place by the workmen’s tools. A small circular piece of ivory, and the tusk of an unknown beast, supposed to be of the hog genus, was also found ; but no ashes, urns, coins, or instruments were discovered. ”
Many years later the giant cairn was described briefly in William Howson’s (1850) early survey of the district, when he told that,
“Near a gate on the path, where the descent is commenced to Stackhouse, there’s a cairn of eighty feet in diameter; it has not been completely examined, but human bones are commonly found in it.”
But it was more than a century after “W.F.’s” initial essay before another detailed appraisal of the place was given — and that was after a visit here by the legendary Harry Speight (1892) in the latter half of the 19th century. Along with mentioning a number of other prehistoric tombs upon this ridge, Mr Speight told:
“From Settle Bridge you may take the field-path…or the rustic lane to Stackhouse, and where the road divides just beyond Mr Priestley’s pretty house you wind beneath the wood behind Scale House to a gate and stile on the left. Here ascend the field between two large trees, and at the top go over a stile, whence a path leads up the field a good half-mile to a gate which opens into what our remote Celtic ancestors would have reverentially called the ‘Field of the Dead,’ for within this enclosure are traces and remains of human graves which carry us back to the far dim ages of unwritten history. Following the grassy cart-road a short distance you will see on the left a large circular mound thrown up about 30 feet on the south side, and about 10 feet on the north or higher side. There are other mounds of similar and smaller dimensions within the same area, some of which have been examined, but others do not appear to have been disturbed. Many of the barrows or ‘raises’, have at some time or other been carelessly dug into in the hope of finding valuables, and as doubtless in most cases nothing was found but rude chests or coffins, containing bones, these were tossed aside and no record of them deemed worthy of preservation…
“The largest of these existing raises has happily been described by a writer who signs himself ‘W.F.’ in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1784 and 1785. Although his account fills several pages, it is obviously defective in many particulars. We are told that the circumference of the base of the mound is 210 feet, and that its height is 9 or 10 yards, and that the casing is composed of stones “so small that a soldier could carry them,” while the inside is made up of earth and stones, some of the latter being “much larger than the external coating.” In form it was circular…and the diameter of the summit was 45 feet. The barrow he tells us was opened many years ago, but some old people in the neighbourhood remember it being entirely complete, and having a very flat top.
“…Upon examining it in its former state the writer discovered several human bones scattered about the rock and soil, among them the palletae of the knee, the vertebrae of the spine, part of the jaw and several teeth. In the centre of the mound was a cavity containing a chest composed of four upright stones and a lid 6 feet 9 inches long and 3 feet broad. The chest was in partitions, in the edges of which were a kind of hole with a rude mould. The writer, under date, Settle, Nov 23rd 1784, next informs us that, “not many weeks ago the curiosity of some of the neighbourhood was excited to investigate this stupendous work of art, and accordingly labourers were hired, when upon searching a day (yet not half the work done) a human skeleton was found, in due proportion, and in a fine state of preservation, excepting the skull and one of the limbs, which were moved out of their place by the workmen’s tools. A small circular piece of ivory, and the tusk of an unknown beast, supposed to be of the hog genus, were also found; but no ashes, urns, coins, or instruments were discovered.”
Other important prehistoric monuments can be found on the grassy limestone plain beyond the Apronful: these include the fascinating Sheep Scar Enclosure just 180 yards (165m) to the north; an associated prehistoric cairn (one of several) 57 yards further northeast; and a delightful, though overgrown cairn circle 325 yards NNW. Other Iron Age and Bronze Age remains can be found elsewhere within this arena. Archaeologists could do themselves a big favour by exploring this landscape more efficiently than they’ve done so far as other unrecognized sites exist in this area.
Folklore
Big stone in t’ middle
Harry Speight (1892) told us how the place got its name “from a tradition…that his Satanic Majesty, in haste to complete the bridge bearing his evil name near Kirkby Lonsdale, tripped and his apron-string broke which let drop this immense heap.”
Another tradition narrated again by our anonymous ‘W.F.’ in the Gentleman’s Magazine(1785) said how this giant tomb, “was raised over the body of some of the Danes slain in the general massacre of that nation.” He also told, “Such a conspicuous work must certainly be erected to the manes of some chiefs, though there is no ground to support its tradition.”
References:
Dixon, John & Phillip, Journeys through Brigantia – volume 4: Beyond the Hill of Winds – Walks in Upper Ribblesdale, the Three Peaks & Upper Wharfedale, Aussteiger: Barnoldswick 1991.
Ferrand, William, “Stackhouse, Yorkshire,” in The Gentleman’s Magazine (London 1784).
Howson, William, An Illustrated Guide to the Curiosities of Craven, Wildman: Settle 1850.
Speight, Harry, The Craven and Northwest Yorkshire Highlands, Elliott Stock: London 1892.
Various routes to this giant tomb, which happens to be a way off the roads (thankfully!). Probably the easiest way is from the Menston-side: up Moor Lane, turn left at the end, go 200 yards and take the track onto the moor. Just keep walking. If you hit the rock-outcrop nearly a mile on, you’ve gone past your target. Turn back for about 400 yards and walk (south) into the heather. You’re damn close!
Archaeology & History
Great Skirtful of Stones cairn looking east to Otley Chevin
Due north of the Skirtful Spring water source, this is one of Ilkley Moor’s major prehistoric sites: ‘major’ for a number of reasons – not least of which is the size of the thing! Although getting somewhat overgrown these days as more of the heathlands encroach the mass of rocks that constitute the central ‘tomb’, it is still a formidable heap. Another reason this site is of importance is its position in the landscape: it can be seen as the peak or ‘nipple’ on the landscape from considerable distances north, south and east of here, rising up on the horizon and catching the eye from many miles away. This was obviously quite a deliberate function of the site when it was first constructed – thought to be in the Bronze or Iron Age period (sadly we have no decent excavation here to tell us just when it was made). Another reason for its importance is its position relative to a once huge prehistoric graveyard immediately east. And right next to it we also find a curious circular monument that has never been properly excavated, whose function is unknown. It is also the seeming focal point of at least one, though possibly three prehistoric trackways: one of which goes right past it, though swerves on its southern edge quite deliberately so as to not touch the monument. This trackway appears to have been a ceremonial ‘road of the dead,’ along which our ancestors were carried, resting for some reason at the nearby Roms Law, or Grubstones Circle, a few hundred yards to the west.
Wrongly ascribed as a “round barrow” by archaeologist Tim Darvill (1988), the Great Skirtful cairn was named in boundary changes made in 1733, where one Richard Barret of Hawksworth told that the site was “never heard go by any other name than Skirtfull of Stones.”
In 1901 there was an article in the local ‘Shipley Express‘ newspaper — and repeated in Mr Laurence’s (1991) fine History of Menston and Hawksworth — which gave the following details:
“Mr Turner led the way across Burley Moor to the Great Skirtful of Stones, a huge cairn of small boulders, nearly a hundred tons on a heap, although for centuries loads have been taken away to mend the trackways across the moor… The centre of the cairn is now hollow, as it was explored many years ago, and from the middle human bones were taken and submitted to Canon Greenwell and other archaeologists” – though I have found little in Greenwell’s works that adequately describe the finds here. Near the centre of the giant cairn is a large stone, of more recent centuries, which once stood upright and upon which is etched the words, “This is Rumbles Law.” The Shipley Express article goes on: “Mr Turner explained that ‘law’ was always used in the British sense for a hill, and Rumbles Hill, or cairn, was a conspicuous boundary mark for many centuries. He had found in the Burley Manor Rolls, two centuries back, that on Rogation Day, when the boundaries were beaten by the inhabitants, they met on this hill, and describing their boundaries, they concluded the nominy by joining in the words, “This is Rumbles Law.””
Great Skirtful on 1851 map
Several other giant cairns like this used to be visible on the moors, but over the years poor archaeological management has led to their gradual decline (and in editing this site profile in 2016, have to report that poor archaeological and moorland management is eating into and gradually diminishing this monument to this day). We still have the Great Skirtful’s little brother, the Little Skirtful of Stones, a half-mile north of here. The very depleted remains of the once-huge Nixon’s Station giant cairn can still be seen (just!) at the very top of Ilkley Moor 1½ miles (2.65km) west.* And we have the pairing of the giant round cairn and long cairn a few miles west on Bradley Moor, near Skipton. The tradition of such giant tombs on these hills was obviously an important one to our ancestors.
Folklore
We find a curious entry in the diaries of the Leeds historian Ralph Thoresby, in the year 1702, which seems to describe the Great Skirtful of Stones, adding a rather odd bit of folklore. (if it isn’t the Great Skirtful, we’re at a loss to account for the place described.) Mr Thoresby told how he and Sir Walter Hawksworth went for a walk on Hawksworth’s land and said how,
“he showed us a monumental heap of stones, in memory of three Scotch boys slain there by lightning, in his grandfather’s, Sir Richard Hawksworth’s time, as an old man attested to Sir Walter, who being then twelve years of age helped to lead the stones.”
As far as I’m aware, this old story of the three Scottish boys is described nowhere else.
Like many giant cairns, the Great Skirtful has a familiar creation myth to account for its appearance. In one version we hear that it was made when the local giant, Rombald (who lived on this moor) and his un-named wife were quarrelling and she dropped a few stones she was carrying in her apron. A variation swaps Rombald’s wife with the devil, who also, carelessly, let the mass of stones drop from his own apron to create the ancient cairn we still see today.
According to Jessica Lofthouse’s North Country Folklore (1976), a Norse giant by the name of Rawmr, “fell fighting against the Britons of Elmet and is buried, they say, on Hawksworth Moor” – i.e., the southeastern section of Rombald’s Moor, very probably at the Great Skirtful of Stones. I’ve yet to explore the history and etymology of the name Rawmr…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Darvill, Timothy, Ancient Britain, AA: Basingstoke 1988.
Laurence, Alastair, A History of Menston and Hawksworth, Smith Settle: Otley 1991.
* Whoever is/was supposed to be responsible for the care of the Nixon’s Station giant cairn monument should be taken to task as it’s been virtually obliterated since when I first came here 30 years ago. Which useless local archaeologist and/or council official is responsible for its destruction? Who allowed it to happen? Why are Ilkley Moor’s prehistoric monument’s being so badly looked after by those who are paid to ensure their maintenance? Are their heads up their arses, in the sand, or—don’t tell me—the prawn sandwiches are to blame!?
