Healing Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 6122 3746?
Also Known as:
Verter Well
Archaeology & History
The old Sulphur Well…?
This once important medicinal spring was, sadly, lost to the world after countless centuries sometime in the early-to-mid-1800s. It was one of at least four Verter Wells, as local dialect described them, i.e., Virtue or curative wells, all in or around the parish of Earlston (or Earlstoun of olde). It’s exact location would seem to have been forgotten, but based on the one and only description of the place—“in order that the knowledge…may not be lost”, said the writer, of it being “about a mile to the south of the Whitecleuch Well”, we come across, on the first Ordnance Survey map of the area of 1862, a ‘Spring’ of water some ¾-mile south of the Whitecleuch which may have been the place in question. Another contender could be a ‘Well’ on the same map, but it’s nearly 1½ miles from the Whitecleuch, so I think the first one is more likely.
It was a Well of some considerable renown back in the day, as local writer James Wood (1891) told us:
“The water of this well, which came bubbling up in the heathery moor, was strongly impregnated with sulphur, and the late James Weatherstone, farmer of Shielfield, always attributed his cure of a serious internal complaint to his drinking, copiously every morning, of the water which he said ‘‘just tasted like gunpowder.” About fifty years ago, however, this moor was ‘taken in’, and the medicinal spring fell a victim to the drainer.”
References:
Wood, James, “Verter Wells,” in History of the Berwickshire Naturalists Club, volume 14, 1891.
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.
Sacred Well (covered): OS Grid Reference – SE 10425 46701
Archaeology & History
Silver Well cottage
Highlighted on the earliest of the Ordnance Survey maps, this spring of water supplied the old cottage here for many a year. Nowadays it has been covered—and has been like that for upwards of fifty years—although it was said to be in constant flow by those who lived here in earlier times. When the Yorkshire holy wells writer Edna Whelan (1989) came here in the 1980s, the running water could still be heard beneath a pile of large stones that covered its source. Today, stone slabs cover it over—but the water is still running below. It had a reputation of never running dry, even in droughts. I spoke with a local doctor in the late-1980s who told us that he was confident the Silver Well would always keep running and its water were fine to drink. It’s a pity the source of the spring is covered over and, surely, is a case for being exposed and open for folk to use once again…
Silver Well on 1851 map
In Collyer & Turner’s (1885) magnum opus on Ilkley, they thought the Silver Well “was probably a holy well” —and it probably was something along those lines, depending on how precisely we define the word ‘holy’. The notion that it may have been a place where, in earlier times, silver coins and other offerings were given to the spirit of the well in exhange for good health and fortune (as is found at springs and wells all over the world) was given a boost when, in the 1960s, a short distance east of Silver Well, was found a clutter of very old silver coins dating from the periods of Kings Edward I and II (13th and 14th Century). The coins were donated to the British Museum where, I presume, they still live. But they may have either come from this well, or were being deposited here. We’ll probably never know for sure. A number of other Silver Wells in Britain possess so-called holy associations.
References:
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J.H., Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Whelan, Edna & Taylor, Ian, Yorkshire Holy Wells and Sacred Springs, Northern Lights: Dunnington 1989.
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.
Healing Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SD 8136 2585
Archaeology & History
The name of this seemingly lost site—Chapel Lane Well—suggests it may have possessed that traditional ‘holy’ association, but neither custom nor history has bedecked us with information to give certainty to such an idea. Even the name of the road along which it was found was one ascribed only by local folk in the 19th Century, for the old maps show us it to have been Goodshaw Lane—but the locals in this neck o’ the woods preserved many an old way that fell foul of the boring Industrialist writers of that age. Except for one, thankfully!
J.M. Mather was a true ambling rambler like my self, wandering off-path, in all weathers, and dreaming by the chimes of swirling waters in stream and spring alike, moving betwixt the roars of biting gales in wintry heights and quietudes of moorland nights gazing at falling stars. And thankfully his pen left us with a smattering of old tales from the tongues of local folk not considered worthy by the Industrialists and christian historians of his time. Mather, instead, wrote of the actual history of Rossendale: of the ways of the people and moods of the hills…
The Chapel Lane Well was on the left-side of the road as you head up to Goodshaw Chapel, just where the track leads off up to Folly Bank Farm: “a quaint looking house”, even in his day! It was, he said, where “the legend of the Chapel Snake still survives.”
“Many years ago, when people came from the village beyond to draw from its waters, in the dusk of one evening an hysterical girl declared she saw a white snake in the liquid depths. The alarm soon spread, and for days none dared to approach, until the want of water and the toil entailed by having to wander further for it, led to a solemn conclave of villagers. Amongst those composing it was a doughty sexton, who, seeing the fears of his friends, declared that he would shoot the snake. Armed with his gun, he cautiously approached. Seeing what he supposed to be the snake, lying in serpentine form, white upon the waters, he fired ; but when a careful inspection was made, the object of delusion was found to be a knitted garter. This, in the depths of the well, and seen by an hysterical girl, had led to the panic, the heroism of a sexton, and the final amusement of the neighbourhood. The well is still there, and in use.”
But some time after Mather wrote those words, the waters were blocked and it has long since fallen into history. As if to compensate and still flowing, are waters not far from here that were known as the abode of the great and dreadful fairy creature known as Jenny Greenteeth!
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NY 405 551
Archaeology & History
On the far south-side of Botchergate running out of central Carlisle, could once be seen the Hospital of St. Nicholas that was mainly used for the treatment of lepers, and in a field very close by could once be found a healing well apparently dedicated to the saint, but which was destroyed following the construction of the railway through the town. It was described by a Mrs Cartmell to the historian Henry Barnes (1906) who told him that it “had a great reputation, its water being considered a valuable remedy for sore legs, or sores on any part of the body”—hence being of value in the treatment of leprosy.
The site was described briefly in McIntire’s (1944) holy wells survey, where he added that in the 19th Century, “it was still visited in May by people who filled their ‘shaking bottles’ with the water.” Beltane rites are common at holy wells. The feast day of St. Nicholas is December 6.
References:
Armstrong, A.M., Mawer, A., Stenton, F.M. & Dickins, B., The Place-Names of Cumberland – volume 1, Cambridge Univerity Press 1950.
Barnes, Henry, “On a Stone Coffin and Chalice found at St. Nicholas’, Carlisle,” in Transactions Cumberland & Westmorland Antiquarian & Archaeological Society, volume 6 (Series 2), 1906.
McIntire, Walter T., “The Holy Wells of Cumberland,” in Transactions Cumberland & Westmorland Antiquarian & Archaeological Society, volume 44 (New Series), 1944.
There’s a possibility that some trace of this seemingly lost sacred well might still be found. It was first described in 1233 CE as the fountain of St. Ellen and the land hereby was given to monks who lived here. The stream which emerged from St. Helen’s fountain (fontis Sanctæ Elenæ), or well, was known as “the stream of the Holy Fountain of St. Elena”, and this was also mentioned in the same 13th Century charters, but sadly no traditions regarding the site were mentioned. The waters however, were likely venerated around St. Helen’s feast day, of August 18.
The Well was found to the east-side of old Botcherby village (now swallowed into the expanding Carlisle suburbia), heading towards Scotby, with the description in the Charter indicating its source was much closer to Botcherby, perhaps just over the old township boundary.
When Walt McIntire (1944) did his survey of the region’s holy wells, he was as unsure about its location as I am, merely telling:
“”St. Helena’s Spring,” mentioned in a charter of Walter of Botcherby to the monks of Wetheral c. 1235 as situate between Botcherby and Scotby.”
So where was it? —or is it? Are there any Carlisle historians out there who’ve found its hallowed spot…? (Note: the grid-ref I’ve given to this site is obviously an approximation)
References:
Armstrong, A.M., Mawer, A., Stenton, F.M. & Dickins, B., The Place-Names of Cumberland – volume 1, Cambridge Univerity Press 1950.
McIntire, Walter T., “The Holy Wells of Cumberland,” in Transactions Cumberland & Westmorland Antiquarian & Archaeological Society, volume 44 (New Series), 1944.
Prescott, J.E. (ed.), Registry of the Priory of Wetherhal, Elliot Stock: London 1897.
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.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NY 400 559
Archaeology & History
In Walt McIntire’s (1944) survey of Cumbrian holy wells, he mentioned this one, long since covered over, near the middle of the old city, saying:
“‘St. Cuthbert’s Well,’” recorded by Bede in his account of St. Cuthbert’s visit to Carlisle in 685. The site of this well is supposed to have been in the market-place, near the premises now occupied by Messrs. Thurnam & Son. It was formerly protected by a curious erection known as Carnaby’s folly, which subsequently was used as a fish market, until it was removed by the Corporation.”
The old well was mentioned in Jefferson’s (1838) early survey of the city, although he didn’t associate St. Cuthbert with the waters, merely telling,
“At the north end of the shambles was a draw-well, over which was a building supported by pillars, called Carnaby’s Folly. Adjoining to this, was the fish market. The shambles and the Folly were taken down in the latter end of the last century the latter having been purchased, at a great price, by the corporation.”
There is however, the St. Cuthbert’s Lane leading to the church dedicated to the same chap, previously known as St. Cuthbert’s Vennel and so-named as far back as 1378 CE. The proximity of the old Market Cross to St. Cuthbert’s Lane suggests the usual association between sacred wells, old stone crosses and the gathering of traders and village folk alike.
Folklore
St Cuthbert’s feast was March 20 – a festival tacked on to the Spring Equinox. He was a hermit and a saint of the early Northumbrian church in the Celtic tradition.
References:
Armstrong, A.M., Mawer, A., Stenton, F.M. & Dickins, B., The Place-Names of Cumberland – volume 1, Cambridge Univerity Press 1950.
Jefferson, Samuel, The History and Antiquities of Carlisle, S. Jefferson: Carlisle 1838.
McIntire, Walter T., “The Holy Wells of Cumberland,” in Transactions Cumberland & Westmorland Antiquarian & Archaeological Society, volume 44 (New Series), 1944.
This once important holy well seems to have been lost or covered over. It was mentioned several times in Edward Jeboult’s (1873) huge survey of the county and he located it “to the south of the church” of St. George in Wilton where, in his day, a spring of water could be seen. He told that, in the parish of Taunton,
“was formerly a noted spring called Fons George, or St. George’s Well, to which the afflicted were accustomed to resort, and which tradition reports to have worked many marvellous cures. The site of this well seems now uncertain.”
In Ethelbert Horne’s (1923) survey, it seems he couldn’t locate the site as he gave no description of the well, but merely echoed the account given by Mr Jeboult. Does anyone know what happened to it?
References:
Horne, Ethelbert, Somerset Holy Wells and other Named Wells, Somerset Folk Series: London 1923.
Jeboult, Edward, A General Account of West Somerset, Somerset & Bristol Steam Press: Taunton 1873.
We are unsure of the precise location of this site, described in some detail by the early Victorian naturalist Leo Grindon (1882) during one his many botanical rambles in and around Manchester nearly 150 years ago. He described it to be along a little valley known as Ridding’s Brook, located near “the water at Lymm” which he described as,
“a vast reservoir, brought into existence by the construction of the viaduct at the foot. The site now occupied by the water was originally a little vale, down which flowed a streamlet called the Dane. Becoming very narrow where the roadway now is, to throw a barricade across was easy. The construction of this gave distinctiveness also to the “dell,” the pretty hollow, full of trees, into which, when the water is high, the overplus, creeping under the road by a concealed channel, springs so cheerily.”
This is undoubtedly the Lymm Dam as it’s known today. From here, he told, “visitors should continue along the hillside, opposite the church, and as far as the grove of trees” and then “cross by the rustic bridge, and, turning to the left, ascend the little valley called Ridding’s Brook.” It is here where a magickal well whose waters turned plants into stone could be found. Grindon said of it:
“The special interest of the valley lies, after all, in its curious dropping and petrifying spring. At the further extremity, upon the right, the steep clay bank, instead of receding, is hollowed underneath for the length of a hundred yards or so, the upper edge projecting to a considerable distance beyond the base, so as to overhang the stream, and form a sloping roof to it. The surface is completely covered with luxuriant moss, and from the land overhead comes an incessant filter of water, which at once nourishing the moss and entangled in it, causes it to hang down in long vegetable ringlets. At a distance they seem soft, but examination shows that every drop has brought along with it a particle of earth, which being deposited in the very substance of the moss, is gradually converting it into stone. Every cluster, externally so green and living, is in its heart a petrifaction.”
“Rock Well” on 1882 map
Waters that turn objects into stone were obviously seen as possessing a somewhat supernatural propensity in many cultures—and although I can find nothing in the local records of the myths or medicinal properties of this site (early animistic folklore records were sadly neglected by the many Industrial historians in Lancashire, meaning we lost masses of valuable village traditions), there’s little doubt it would have possessed a mythic history of its own in the local area.
It’s possible that a Well shown on the 19th century Ordnance Survey maps as a ‘Rock Well’ could be the petrifying waters in question, but until site gains the attention of a diligent local student of occult history, we’ll not know for sure… Does anyone know if it still exists…?
References:
Grindon, L.H., Country Rambles and Manchester Walks and Wild Flowers, Palmer & Howe: Manchester 1882.
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.
From the red phone-box at the road junction in Strathtay village, walk aling the road, east (slightly downhill) for less than 50 yards then turn left and walk up the track. After 70-80 yards, keep your eyes peeled for the footpath that runs up the slope into the tgrees (don’t head to the house in front of you). After a half-mile you reach the gorgeous old Tullypowrie farmhouse on your left; keep walking uphill for another 300 yards until your reach a large tree on your left, above which, sat on some very low walling, you’ll see a small upright stone.
Archaeology & History
Faint cross on western face
This little-known early christian carved stone, sitting on the vague remains of an old Roman Catholic church, located on what local folks used to call “the route to the stones” (meaning to the Clachan an Diridh, much to the minister’s considerable disdain), has had less said of it than the more ancient stone circle a little further up the footpath. But then, not much is known of either the carving or the church itself, whose remains can barely be seen amongst the grasses. But the upright ‘cross’ at least proclaims itself to the eye.
On our recent visit here, the crosses (on both side of the stone) were somewhat faint, as my photos show. But it wasn’t always this way. During a visit to nearby Aberfeldy in September 1900, the antiquarian Dave Landsborough (1901) found himself ambling about “among the ruins of a small hamlet” that was the olde settlement of Tullypowrie and came upon this little-known monument. He subsequently wrote an excellent description of the stone, which cannot be equalled. “The cross,” he told,
Landsborough’s sketch
“is of the rudest character, consisting of a schistose slab 30 inches in length, 11⅜ inches in width at the top, about half an inch wider at the bottom, and about 4½ inches in thickness. It is roughly squared at the top and sides, but at the bottom the base is unsquared, one side being longer than the other. On both faces of the slab a cross is formed by a shallow incised sinking, a little more than an inch in breadth, with circular sinkings slightly deeper than the rest of the outline at each corner of the shaft and summit of the cross, and at the intersections of the arms with the shaft and summit. The cross on the east face of the stone has its top almost level with the top of the slab, but the shaft does not reach nearly to the bottom. The top part of the cross above the arms is 4½ inches high by 4½ inches in width. The arms reach across the whole width of the slab, and the shaft is little more than the length of the part above the arms, the base being somewhat rounded. Below the termination of the shaft are two slight circular sinkings almost in line with the perpendicular outlines of the sides, but at unequal distances from their terminations, the one being 1½ inches and the other 2½ inches below the similar sinkings which mark the corners of the shaft. The cross on the west face of the slab is in every way similar, except that the shaft is longer, reaching to a length of 10½ inches below the arms, and the circular sinkings at the top are nearly effaced. It has, however, the curious feature of a slight cut-off at about the same length as the shaft of the other cross, but the circular sinkings occur at the top and bottom, and at the intersections as in the case of the other cross.
“The slab is not fastened in a socket, but is kept nearly erect leaning against a large stone, while smaller stones keep it firm at the back. I have since been told by the Rev. Mr McLean of Grandtully that the place where it stands is the site of an old and very little chapel, the south wall of which may still be recognised by its remaining foundations.”
Tullypowrie cross looking SDixon’s old photo
On the other side of the burn from here was the great Whooping Cough Well, with the heathen Clach na Buidseach against the wall of Tullypowrie Farm just below (subsequently moved to the field west of the cross). These sites (and others nearby) and the animistic traditions associated with them, probably had something to do with the positioning of the church here, and the cross would be the attempt to give a Christian veneer to usurp the more archaic natural practices. We don’t know that for sure, but it’s more than likely. The old Logierait schoolmaster James Kennedy (1927) makes constant references to the animistic lore of the region, which was legion until quite recently.
No additional lore, sadly, is known of this old cross, which is deemed to be medieval in origin. Both Mitchell (1923) and Dixon (1925) make mention of the monument in their respective guidebooks, but add no further information.
References:
Dixon, John H., Pitlochry, Past and Present, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1925.
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1927.
Landsborough, David, “Rubbings of both Faces of an Erect Incised Cross-slab, at Tullypowrie, near Grandtully, Perthshire,” in Proceedings Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 35, 1901.
Mitchell, Hugh, Pitlochry District: Its Topography, Archaeology and History, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1923.
Park up at the red phone-box in Strathtay village (by the road junction) and walk east along the road (slightly downhill) for less than 50 yards, then turn left and walk up the track. 70-80 yards up, keep your eyes peeled for the distinct footpath on your right (don’t head up to the house) that runs into the trees and keep walking uphill for literally ½-mile where you’ll reach the gorgeous overgrown scented orchard of Tullypowrie farmhouse on the left. Keep walking along the path past the farm and, if you fancy, cross the burn (stream) anywhere hereby. The well is on the other side of the burn, somewhere…..
Archaeology & History
We ventured up here recently to look at several sites, but when we came to find this long lost well we were hindered severely by the mass of vegetation that was teeming with ticks—so thought it most sensible to come back here again at the end of winter when we’d have a clean slate of landscape to look at. (the ticks have got fucking awful in this neck o’ the woods in recent years!) It has almost fallen out of history, with no one writing about the place for more than a hundred years, yet it was a place of considerable importance in the folk traditions of Strathtay.
In some previously unpublished notes written by the historian Charles Robertson sometime at the beginning of the 20th century, he told of a lady from Pitlochry called Mrs Anderson who informed him of an important water source known locally as Sput na-fruith-chasd which,
“comes spouting out of a high rock on the east side of the Tullypowrie Burn opposite Tullypowrie farm, and was resorted to of old for the cure of whooping cough. The sufferer who came here and drank of the water always got better too.”
It was described by the Logierait schoolmaster James Kennedy (1927) as one of “the three most important (wells) in the Tay Valley”—and there are a lot of wells in the Tay Valley!
There’s a slight discrepancy regarding the exact location of the well: whilst Mr Robertson’s notes told that it was found “opposite Tullypowrie farm”, in Hugh Mitchell’s (1923) survey of local antiquities he told that,
“On the oppsite side of the burn from the mill there is a drip well, the water from which was for long regarded as a certain cure for whooping cough”—
which would place the well a hundred yards or so further upstream. (the very low-lying walls of the mill can just be discerned a short distance above the farmhouse) I’m sure that a good search of the area after Winter has laid the vegetation to rest will tell us one way or the other precisely where this curative well is hiding.
Across the burn from the well is the barely visible ruins of an old church: Roman Catholic according to tradition, with a singular short carved cross standing on the low remains of its eastern wall. Close to this, but now in the field a few hundred yards west, was the curious bullaun stone known as Clach na Buidseach, or Witchcraft Stone. This bullaun would seem to have been used in rites related to the Whooping Cough Well, but the precise nature of these rites has been lost.
References:
Dixon, John H., Pitlochry, Past and Present, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1925.
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1927.
Mitchell, Hugh, Pitlochry District: Its Topography, Archaeology and History, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1923.
