The King Stone of Rollright (photo by Sir Wilson III)
If you’ve reached the impressive Rollright Stone circle, simply cross the road, go through the gate and into the field, then up the gentle slope to your right. Y’ can’t miss it! If though, by any chance, you can’t find the Rollright Stones, get to Chipping Norton and ask a local!
Archaeology & History
An integral part of the Rollright Stones complex, this gnarled almost moth-eaten-looking standing stone, whose edges were cut away for medicinal properties in earlier centuries, still awakes each morning beside the small rise in the field, long thought to have been the remains of an ancient tomb — much to the archaeologist’s opinionated disdain in bygone years. Yet they had to swallow their pride…
This is an eight-foot-tall standing stone made from the same local oolitic limestone as the King’s Men and overlooks the village of Long Compton on the northern side of the ridge. It actually stands besides an artificial mound which has been identified as a Bronze Age cairn—known in times past as the ‘Archdruid’s Barrow’— and suggested by Lambrick to date from around 1800 BCE. More recently however, the world’s leading authority on stone circles, Professor Aubrey Burl, has given the King Stone a more probable construction date of 3000 BCE. The date is consistent with other Neolithic finds in the adjacent fields. This old standing stone has suffered much down the centuries, with bits of it being chipped away to such an extent that it has been reduced to the novel shape we see today.
Looking up at the King (photo by Sir Wilson III)The King in dance
A little-known but important piece of megalithic history took place here in the 1970s and ’80s. It centred around an idea to investigation so-called “mysterious events” that are commonly reported at standing stones—and the King Stone has its own CV when it comes to such things. Curious stories have been described by people from all walks of life. Down the years, a number of people have told me of feeling some strange and powerful ‘energy’ at these places and stories of such things have filled many volumes, along with being the subject of many a folktale. So one evening in November, 1977, the then editor of The Ley Hunter, Paul Devereux, convened a meeting where twenty people from differing backgrounds gathered. At this first meeting were people from a variety of professional backgrounds: archaeologists, dowsers, chemists, biochemists, biologists, electronic engineers, geochemists, geophysicists, zoologists—and ley hunters of course. It was time, they thought, to address this issue of anomalous energies at stone circles and other ritual sites.
After some discussion about what they should call their investigations, “the long association of the dragon with some kind of earth force made it a fitting symbol.” And so, the Dragon Project (DP) was born…
On the misty morning of Saturday, 24 October, 1978, research scientist Don Robins—in the company of his dog and young son—drove the hundred miles from London to the Rollright Stones armed with a simple ultrasound detector. He didn’t know what he would find there, and his scientific training told him there shouldn’t really be anything untoward.
King Stone, looking W (photo by Sir Wilson III)Stukeley’s 1743 sketch showing the King Stone
Arriving around dawn, Robins took several background readings along some of the lanes a mile or so away and found the usual expected background levels (on a scale of 1-10, the background flickers between 0 and 1). When he eventually walked into the Rollright stone circle with his ultrasound monitor, no undue perturbations were found. He spent thirty minutes here, but at no time did he record anything other than background readings. So he crossed the road and tried the same at the King Stone—where a big surprise awaited him.
Switching on the detector he found an anomalously high reading, beating every minute or so, not unlike a heartbeat, more than five times above the background ultrasound!
“This was really peculiar,” he wrote, “in that the pattern was spread over about a minute and then commenced again after about 10 seconds, endlessly repeated.” Robins spent some time here and found that the strange ‘pulse’ wasn’t solely confined to the King Stone, but spread some distance around the old standing stone and onto the road itself.
Investigation of potential radiation anomalies was another avenue of enquiry explored by the Dragon Project, and although thousands of hours of monitoring were done at the three focal sites, there were few anomalies to write home about. Two however, were recorded in March and August, 1981, when radiation levels were twice the normal background rate for short periods of just a few minutes each. More puzzling was the finding—which can still be verified today—of radiation levels three and four times above background on the road between the circle and the King Stone.
Next on the list was an attempt to monitor the Rollright stones with infrared devices. This proved to be a potential goldmine, as there was the chance of photographic imagery. So early one morning in April, 1979, Paul Devereux readied himself at the King Stone. He took a number of photos at five minute intervals either side of sunrise. This time of day was chosen because of the repeated anomalous ultrasound emissions from the King and it was thought that this, if any, would be the best time to capture something on film.
“When the first roll of black-and-white IR film was professionally developed,” he wrote, “I was astonished to see a curious ‘glow’ effect around the King stone on the frame taken at sunrise.” His first account of it appeared in The Ley Hunter, where he described how “a hazy glow can be seen clinging to the sides and upper parts of the megalith. This glow becomes much stronger at the top of the stone where it looks like a cap of light.” Although the sun had risen, it was off to the left of picture and apparently no satisfactory explanation can be given to the effect on the plate. Research physicist Simon Hasler—who worked for Kodak—closely studied the negatives of this image and found the evidence for a simple explanation “weak.” A possible explanation of the mysterious glow was propounded by Don Robins, who suggested that an emission of microwaves from the stone may have been responsible, and although this sounds promising it has yet to be proven.
Folklore
(photo by Sir Wilson III)
Amidst the mass of modern lore, dowsed energy lines exceed here — although to be honest, most of them are little more than bullshit. Old school alignments in the form of leys that can be walked along are more credible, and one or two have been noted here. Dowser Laurence Main found a ley running between Broughton Church, “the old White Cross, the Victorian Cross and the old Bread Cross in Banbury. In the other direction the line led straight to the King Stone.” Although this line accurately links up these sites, other ‘ley points’ are utterly necessary between Broughton Church and the King Stone to give the alignment any real credibility. In a concise survey of the megalithic remains of this region made by Tom Wilson and myself, no other ley-points were found along the line.
In more traditional animist-based folklore, the creation myth here is well known. The famous, oft-repeated tale recites how a King and his men were marching across the land intent on conquering it when he came across an old hag, or witch near Rollright who offered the regal figure a magickal challenge. Some accounts name the witch as Mother Shipton—not the famous Yorkshire seer of the same name, but her less powerful (obviously!) southern counterpart. The old witch said to the King:
“Seven long strides thou shalt take, and
If Long Compton thou can’st see,
King of England thou shalt be.”
His majesty took this as a simple task and, with contempt, said to the old witch:
“Stick, stock, stone,
As King of England I shall be known.”
From where he was standing (which is never told, but presumed by most as the stone circle) the King then took seven long strides in the direction of Long Compton. As he was taking his seventh step the witch made the ground in front of him rise up, hence blocking his view of the village in the valley below. The old hag then said:
“As Long Compton thou canst not see,
King of England thou shalt not be.
Rise up, stick, and stand still, stone,
For King of England thou shalt be none;
Thou and thy men hoar stones shall be
And I myself an eldern tree.”
Thereupon, the King’s men who were waiting behind their master, the five knights in the field who were said to be conspiring against his majesty, and the King himself, were all turned into stone where they stood. The elder tree that the old witch turned herself into, was said to have grown along the old boundary close to the roadside, but this can no longer be verified. The folklorist Arthur Evans described several spots where the famed elder tree was said to have grown: one in the field close to the Whispering Knights, and another in the same field as the King Stone, close by another large stone that has long since gone.
When William Stukeley visited the area in the 18th century and heard about the legendary origin of these great monoliths, he told how “the country people for some miles round are very fond of, and take it very ill if anyone doubts it,” telling later, “The people who live at Chipping Norton and all the country round our first described temple of Rowldrich affirm most constantly, and as surely believe it, that the stones composing this work are a king, his nobles, and Commons turned into stones.
Another piece of animistic lore tells how the King Stone and the Whispering Knights venture, at midnight, less than half a mile south to drink from a spring in the small woodland at Little Rollright Spinney—although it is difficult to ascertain precisely which of the two springs the stones are supposed to visit. In some accounts, the stones reputedly drink from the well every night, but others tell that they only go there at certain times of the year, or on saint’s days. When Arthur Evans wrote of these tales he described there being a “gap in the bushes… through which they go down to the water,” but the terrain has altered since his day.
A variation of the same tale was told by T.H. Ravenhill, who wrote:
The old King c.1945King Stone, c.1920
“The Lord of the Manor of Little Rollright desired to possess the King’s Stone in order to bridge Little Rollright brook. So he dug it up and tried to cart it away, but found that he had not enough horses. He hitched on more, and yet more, and still he found that he could not move the stone. Finally he succeeded and hauled the stone away to the Manor House. The same night he was alarmed by strange sounds about the house, which he attributed to the presence of the King’s Stone, and decided, therefore, to replace it on its mound. No sooner had he harnessed the first horse to the cart than it galloped away up hill with ease, taking with it the stone, which leapt to position on reaching its resting place.”
Evans also wrote about an eighty-year-old local woman who told that her mother visited the King Stone on Midsummer’s Eve, along with many other locals, when the elder was in full bloom and they would stand in a full circle around the tall monolith. Ritual of a sort was performed then the elder tree was cut and, as it bled, “the King moved his head.” This annual rite was said to partially disempower the witch of her magickal hold over the King when her blood trickled from the tree. Some locals believed that if but a pin-prick of the witch’s blood was drawn, she would lose her power for all eternity.
Beneath both the Rollright stone circle and the King Stone, legend reputes there to be such a cavern where the little people live. In some accounts they are said to dance around the old King.
Arthur Evans told how one local man, Will Hughes, actually saw the faerie dancing round the King.
“They were little folk like girls to look at,” he said.
Old postcard, c.1910Sketch from 1904
Will’s widow, Betsy Hughes, told Evans that “when she was a girl and used to work in the hedgerows, she remembered a hole in the bank by the King Stone, from which it is said the fairies came out to dance at night. Many a time she and her playmates had placed a flat stone over the hole of an evening to keep the fairies in, but they always found it turned over next morning.” This curious entrance was a neolithic burial mound. Mark Turner described how the little people were “supposed to come out and dance around the stones by moonlight.”
As we have already seen, people used to take chippings off some of the old stones here—primarily the King—supposedly for luck, protection and good fortune. Local people used to blame Welsh workers more than anyone, but they wouldn’t be the only ones! Although those who took such chippings believed the pieces brought them luck, more often than not it was the opposite that happened. One local woman told Evans about her son who went to India as a soldier in the 19th century with a piece of the King Stone in his possession, but it did him no good whatsoever. He died of typhus! The Oxford archaeologist George Lambrick (1988) highlights in his book on the Rollright stones the extent of damage that has been done to the King Stone since 1607.
References:
Anonymous, The Rollright Stones: Theories and Legends, privately printed, n.d.
Bennett, Paul & Wilson, Tom, The Old Stones of Rollright and District, Cockley: London 1999.
Bloxham, Christine, Folklore of Oxfordshire, Tempus 2005.
Cowper, B.H., ‘Oxfordshire Legend in Stone,’ Notes & Queries (1st series), 7, January 15, 1853.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Is This the Image of the Earth Force?’ in The Ley Hunter 87, 1979.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Operation Merlin,’ in The Ley Hunter 88, 1980.
Devereux, Paul, ‘Operation Merlin 2,’ in The Ley Hunter 89, 1980.
Devereux, Paul, ‘The Third Merlin,’ in The Ley Hunter 92, 1981.
Devereux, Paul, Places of Power, Blandford: London 1990.
Devereux, Paul, The Sacred Place, Cassell: London 2000.
Evans, Arthur J., ‘The Rollright Stones,’ in Trans. Bristol & Glouc. Arch. Soc., 40, 1892.
Evans, Arthur J., ‘The Rollright Stones and their Folklore (3 parts),’ in Folklore Journal, 1895.
Lambrick, George, The Rollright Stones: The Archaeology and Folklore of the Stones and their Surroundings, Oxford Archaeology Review 1983. (Reprinted and updated in 1988.)
Michell, John, Megalithomania, Thames & Hudson: London 1982.
Pennick, Nigel & Devereux, Paul, Lines on the Landscape, Hale: London 1989.
Ravenhill, T.H., The Rollright Stones and the Men Who Erected Them, Little Rollright 1926.
If you’re coming up to Oxenhope from Keighley, up the A6033 road, when you reach the school on the right-hand side of the road, a one-way street (Cross Lane) is where you need to walk down, for 200 yards, and keep your eyes peeled in the walling just before Cross Farm Court. Alternatively, via Haworth, go along Marsh Lane for a few hundred yards until your reach Moorhouse Lane on your left. Go down here for ⅓-mile (0.5km) and then go up Cross Lane on your right. About 120 yards up, in the walling just past the entrance into Cross Farm Court is where you’ll find it.
Archaeology & History
Very little seems to be known about the remains of this cross, embedded into the old walling. When it was described by Brigg & Villy (1914), they could find no information about it, and surmised that it marked the original track or road to Oxenhope from both Haworth and Halifax, “on the line of the old road by Withens.” Ostensibly it would seem to have been a wayside cross, marking old trackways (ley hunters take note!).
Visitors looking at it today can see that it’s barely noticeable. It looked no different even in Brigg & Villy’s days. It simply consists of only part of the original head of the cross, “the shaft having been broken off flush with the horizontal limb.” Some of the other stones that make up the bottom of this very poor-looking excuse of a cross were probably not part of the original, but were assembled into the wall to at least leave of memory of what it used to look like. It’s in a sorry state to be honest. A historic plaque should be placed here.
References:
Brigg, J.J. & Villy, F., “Three Ancient Crosses near Keighley,” in Bradford Antiquary, New Series 6, 1921.
Easy to find: get into the middle of the village where the shops are in the main street and where another road veers off, the cross sits there in the middle in the traffic island. The photo here shows its location clearly.
Archaeology & History
Doune’s Mercat Cross
Found at the meeting of the roads in the centre of this old lovely village, the Mercat Cross in its present state was, according to Act of Parliament, erected a few years prior to 1696. Set on a square base of six steps in traditional pyramidal fashion, near the top of the 12-foot tall shaft are carvings on the sides of the stone. On the east-face was carved the Moray arms, and on the west face were carved sundials. John Small (1900) told how the top of the cross is crowned by the figure of a lion, “holding in its paws a circular shield or escutcheon, surrounded by a ribbon enclosing he Moray crest, and bearing the motto, ‘Salus per Christum.’
John Small’s 1900 sketch
It has been damaged a few times over the years. Sometime around 1800, Moray Mackay (1953) told that “the lion fell of and was damaged”, but was repaired shortly afterwards by a local man. He also told, with considerable indignation, how the local authorities were responsible for damaging what used to be “four short pillars which stood at the corners of the base,” when they were “smashed off and removed , impairing the balance of the whole (cross) for the sake of six inches more traffic room”! There are two such short pillars at the edges, but these aren’t the original stones. There used to be a water pump in front of the cross, but this was removed many years ago.
Pretty easy to find: from Whitby town centre, head uphill to the great ruins of Whitby Abbey. You go past Caedmon’s Cross and past the more recent church and graveyard to the car-park at the top, outside the abbey. At the edge of the car-park on the grass, you’ll see this tall hard upright, nice and erect!
Archaeology & History
Cross shown on 1894 map
Highlighted on the earliest OS-maps and not to be confused with the nearby and more modern Caedmon’s Cross, this tall large monolith stands upon a stepped plinth comprising of six steps (originally five), about 18 feet high. The top of the cross was knocked off a century or two ago, when it was reported to have been twenty feet! Initially it stood about fifty yards closer to the Abbey, but was removed to its present position following the Dissolution.
The brief history regarding its origin was described in George Young’s (1817) major work, in which he told that in 1474, on John Nightingale, rector of Sneaton parish, in his will “appointed his burial to be on the north side (of the Abbey), before the cross,” which was already standing at that time. Young wrote:
“By this it would appear that the ancient cross, now standing in the abbey plain was then within the cemetery of the abbey.”
Abbey Cross, c.1900Young’s 1817 sketch
This has subsequently been taken as the standard regarding its origin. Tradition also told that it was an old market cross, but this was treated with considerable scepticism by George Young, who believed that the monks here simply wouldn’t have allowed such a thing at the edge the abbey and burial ground. He found evidence to indicate that it “was at the port or harbour of Whitby that corn was bought or sold, that here were kept the standard bushels for measuring corn, and that here the market-clerk had his station.” In spite of this, T.H. Woodwark (1934) reported that fairs had been held at the cross early in the 20th century. In a thoroughly profane way, electrical wiring was wrapped around the bottom of the cross and led to a generator, along with washing-lines running from it to a caravan! Mr Young would have been apoplectic!
References:
Atkinson, J.C., Memorials of Old Whitby, MacMillan: London 1894.
Holt, Robert B., Whitby, Past and Present, Copas: London 1890.
Woodwark. T.H., The Crosses on the North York Moors, Whitby Literary & Philosophical Society 1934.
Young, George, A History of Whitby and Streonshalh Abbey (2 volumes), Clark & Medd: Whitby 1817.
Acknowledgements:Massive thanks to Lindsay (wherefore art thou…?) Mitchell for getting us up here… Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – V 838 896
Archaeology & History
o’Connell’s 1939 sketch
In 1939 when D.B. o’ Connell wrote about this impressive cup-and-ring stone, he told that, with the exception of the Caherlehillan petroglyph (at V 569 837), this was “by far the most extensively decorated stone” that he’d seen in Kerry. He would therefore have been appalled to hear that it was subsequently destroyed in the 1950s and some remaining fragments of the stone “were used to line a well”! (o’ Sullivan & Sheehan 1996) Not good. There had already been an attempt to destroy the stone at the end of the 19th century, but that was prevented. Thankfully we had some early pioneer antiquarians who left us with information and sketches of this once great carving.
It was first described in John Cooke’s (1906) fine essay on the prehistoric antiquities scattering this part of Kerry. According to him, a certain “Dr. Digby is due the credit of having discovered this stone” a few years prior to him writing his essay. He told that:
Cooke’s 1906 sketch
“In one of the fields is a huge boulder, or rather earth-fast rock, somewhat rectangular in shape, of the purple grit of this district, and lying north and south. It measures 7 feet 8 inches long, 5 feet 8 inches broad at the south end, and 4 feet 6 inches at north end, the heights respectively being 2 feet 6 inches, and 2 feet 3 inches. A section from north to south would show a slight curve, as the rock is a few inches higher in the middle than at either end. The greater portion of this massive rock is covered with an extraordinary number of cup-markings, and cups with concentric circles. There are connecting channels everywhere, and the whole, though apparently intricate and unmeaning at first, yet shows, on examination, evidence of intention and design. It is much worn and weathered, and the north end has no markings. It is difficult to take a good rubbing of it, and still more difficult to sketch the markings, as the more it is examined, the more work does it show.”
This last comment applies to many petroglyphs. Mr Cooke continued:
“A peculiar feature of the ornament consists in the groups on the top left-hand corner, not unlike the tentacles and cupules of a cuttlefish. The dumb-bell-shaped ornament is found on other stones, but the truncheon-shaped figures on the right below are, I think, exceptional.”
A discrepancy arose a few years later when Miss C. Hussey (1909) told how the carving had been discovered by a certain “Captain Magill, who some years afterwards saved it from destruction.” She told how,
“One day, when shooting in the neighbourhood, he saw some men breaking it with crowbars, etc., merely to clear the field of stones, and his daughter, who first showed it to me, said she believed that before he reached the spot, some four feet or more had been broken off the broader (south) end.”
So whether it was him or Dr Digby, we may never quite know. As for the design, Miss Hussey told us:
Miss Hussey’s sketch
o’Connell’s 1939 photos
“The stone itself is a large block of sandstone, some four feet in height, and six feet wide. The entire length at present is nine feet, but the flat carved top only measures seven feet four inches in length, as the northern side slopes gradually instead of being upright like the others. The largest circle on the stone is twelve inches in diameter, and the cups and hollows vary in size down to about an inch across. It was difficult to be certain whether some hollows were cups or merely natural inequalities in the stone, but I have only given those which seemed to be unmistakably the work of man” in this sketch.
In o’ Connell’s (1939) description he echoed what our earlier writers had said, and thankfully gave us a couple of photos of the carving, highlighting the design in chalk so we could see it clearer. It’s such a pity that it’s no longer with us…
References:
Cooke, John, “Antiquarian Remains in the Beaufort District, County Kerry,” in Proceedings of Royal Irish Academy, volume 26, 1906.
Hadingham Evan, Ancient Carvings in Britain: A Mystery, Garnstone: London 1974.
Hussey, C., “Gortbuee Cup and Circle Stone,” in Kerry Archaeological Magazine, volume 1, 1909.
o’ Connell, D.B., “Notes on Three Inscribed Stones in County Kerry,” in Journal Cork Historical & Archaeological Society, volume 44, 1939.
o’ Sullivan, Ann & Sheehan, John, The Iveragh Peninsula: An Archaeological Survey of South Kerry, Cork University Press 1996.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
In o’ Sullivan & Sheehan’s (1996) magnum opus, they reported the discovery of a decent cup-and-ring stone “during road-widening operations in the 1970s,” a short distance west of the river Staigue. It was “seen to have rock art motifs on it, but it has since been covered over.” Its design was apparently similar to a complex carving at found Liss (V 608 617), just 300 yards or so to the south.
References:
o’ Sullivan, Ann & Sheehan, John, The Iveragh Peninsula: An Archaeological Survey of South Kerry, Cork University Press 1996.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – Q 508 001
Archaeology & History
An impressive multiple cup-and-ring stone was discovered near the beginning of the 20th century by Rev. Orpen (1908) who gave a reasonably good description of its whereabouts and, thankfully, a sketch of the basic design. But since his day, it’s not been seen again. He told us that after,
“Leaving the Church of St. Martin, and passing down the main road towards Dingle, we take a turn to the left, and cross the river to the village of Furacht. Here, on the farm of Mr. Brosnan, about 300 yards up the hill towards the south, may be seen a carved stone…marked with cups and concentric circles. The stone is about 6 feet long by 4 feet wide. It was partially covered with sods of grass, which, when they were cleared away, revealed some other cups and circles. This stone lies on one of the ditches running north and south on Mr. Brosnan’s farm.”
The grid-reference given for this site is taken from Judith Cuppage’s (1986) fine survey, who had no success finding it. But a stone of this size shouldn’t be too difficult to locate—unless it’s either covered in vegetation or it’s been destroyed. Do any Lispole or Dingle folk know what’s become of it?
References:
Cuppage, Judith, Archaeological Survey of the Dingle Peninsula, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne: Ballyferriter 1986.
Orpen, R., “Antiquities near Lispole, Co. Kerry,” in Kerry Archaeological Magazine, volume 1, 1908.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – Q 58 04
Archaeology & History
Judith Cuppage (1986) reported that in 1953 a Mr Adams of the County Kerry Field Club, when he was checking out two recognised petroglyphs in this locale (Coumduff [1] and [2]), his attention was brought to this, previously unrecognized carving,
“which lay against the bank from which it had previously fallen. It was decorated with numerous cup-marks, at least one of which were enclosed by circles.”
For some reason, Mr Adams didn’t give any good directions as to its whereabouts and as a result, since that day in ’53, it hasn’t been seen since! The likelihood is that it lays somewhere either in-between, or at least pretty close to the other two carvings. If there are any explorers in that neck o’ the woods who might know where it lies sleeping, please let us know so we can bring it back to life, so to speak.
References:
Cuppage, Judith, Archaeological Survey of the Dingle Peninsula, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne: Ballyferriter 1986.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – Q 53 03?
Archaeology & History
Gowlane East (3) stone (Graves 1877)
First discovered by Richard Hitchcock in 1848, this petroglyph (along with the Gowlane East (2) carving) was one of two missing stones in the area that James Graves (1877) thought were seemingly “fragments of a large monument,” although he said nothing more about it and, sadly, Mr Hitchcock’s sketch here is all that we have left to guide us. The carving may have come from one of the nearby raths, souterrains, or have been part of a circle or cairn. The stone looks to have been reasonably small in size and, hopefully, is residing in a wall somewhere or is just buried in a field.
There are several Gowlane place-names in the area, but Judith Cuppage (1986) told that the great 19th century artist and antiquarian George du Noyer “identified the townland as Gowlane East”, although the closest “neighbouring townland” would be Gowlin (Gualainn). If any local folk know where this might be hiding, please let us know. (the grid reference cited here is a very vague guess!)
References:
Cuppage, Judith, Archaeological Survey of the Dingle Peninsula, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne: Ballyferriter 1986.
Graves, James, “On Cup and Circle Sculptures as Occurring in Ireland,” in Journal Royal Society Antiquaries, Ireland, volume 4 (4th series), April 1877.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – Q 53 03?
Archaeology & History
Gowlane (2) carving (in Graves 1877)
When James Graves (1877) described the gorgeous Aghacarrible petroglyph, he told that “in the neighbouring townland of Gowlane” were three other carvings—with this fine multi-ringed design being one of them. It was first discovered and drawn by Richard Hitchcock in 1848 and was thought by Graves to have been broken from “a larger monument.” (like the Gowlane East [3] carving) Whether it was from a cairn, a souterrain or a stone circle, we can but guess. And we must also guess as to where it might be now, for no account of it has appeared since Mr Graves’ description. With any luck it will be in a wall somewhere, or simply buried in a field.
There are several Gowlane place-names in the area, but Judith Cuppage (1986) told that the great 19th century artist and antiquarian George du Noyer “identified the townland as Gowlane East”, although the closest “neighbouring townland” would be Gowlin (Gualainn). If any local folk know where this might be hiding, please let us know. (the grid reference cited here is a very vague guess!)
References:
Cuppage, Judith, Archaeological Survey of the Dingle Peninsula, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne: Ballyferriter 1986.
Graves, James, “On Cup and Circle Sculptures as Occurring in Ireland,” in Journal Royal Society Antiquaries, Ireland, volume 4 (4th series), April 1877.