From the main road running through the town, head west towards Alva, and where the golf course begins, take the footpath uphill at its edge which heads towards the giant quarry. Where the dirt-track begins, keep walking along the edge of golf course, noting that where the open field starts, a gate on your right. Go through this, and walk up the side of the fence for some 30 yards, then go through the large gate. 10 yards in front of you, note the small stream crossing the track, and a scatter of overgrown rocks just on the other side of the wire fence. You’re here!
Archaeology & History
Thought by Angus Watson (1995) to have been possibly dedicated to ‘Our Lady’: in this context it’s difficult to know whether the dedication was to the christian Virgin, or to the heathen ‘Lady Alva’, whose web of snow and other natural garments clothe the mountains and glens of the Ochils hereby.
The first account of the place seems to be in William Gibson’s Reminiscences (1883) where he told that,
“In the year 1839, a Mr John Henderson built the only woollen mill…the water for the steam engine of which was got from the Ladies Well”,
Ladys Well on 1899 map
which was barely 100 yards to the west. It was later highlighted on the OS-map in 1899 with an associated ‘fountain’, right by the track-side. A water-pumping station shown at the same time on another map was, of course, the one that was built to supply the mill with water.
The present water source is slightly higher in the field than when it was shown on the early OS-maps, and it does still flow continuously—although the source is much neglected and could do with being recovered: as the photo here shows, an ugly pipe appears to be taking much of the healing waters which are now mainly feeding a large pond in the garden just below.
References:
Gibson, William, Reminiscences of Dollar and Tillicoultry, Andrew Elliot: Edinburgh 1883.
Legendary Stone & Healing Well (lost): OS Grid Reference – NN 579 323
Also Known as:
Fuaranna Druidh Chasad
Whooping Cough Well
Archaeology & History
“Well of the Whooping Cough” stone, near Killin
The grid-reference given for this site is only an approximation based on the description given by Hugh MacMillan (1884), below. The exact whereabouts of the place remains forgotten, but based on the story we have of the place it would be great if we could locate it and — as far as I’m concerned — be highlighted and preserved as an important spot in the history of religious and social history for the people of Killin and the wider mountain community. The region here was well populated all along the northern and southern sides of the adjacent Loch Tay before the coming of the Highland Clearances (Prebble 1963), and so the lore which MacMillan describes below was very likely of truly ancient pedigree.
Not to be confused with a site of the same name (and attributes) as the healing well at Balquhidder, this site comprises of a large stone, typical of the region, covered in that delicious carpet of old mosses and lichen bestowed by the aged love from Nature that bedecks much of the hidden sites in the area. Upon one side of the rock was a large hollow, in which water was always collected: of both dew and rain and the breath of low clouds, within which were great medicinal virtues long known of by local people. Foreign or shallow archaeologists would denounce this rock and its virtues as little more than the superstitious beliefs of an uneducated people living in uneducated times, but such derision is simply foolish words from pretentious souls who know little of the real world. For the attributes and mythic elements at this old stone is another example of living animism: vitally important ingredients in the spiritual background and nourishment of a people not yet overcome by the degrading influence of homo-profanus. Here we still find the living principles of the natural world, sleeping away in the consensus trance of modern folk…
Folklore
The stone and its ‘healing well’ are not mentioned in the standard Scottish texts on holy wells (MacKinlay 1893; Morris 1982) and we have to rely solely on Hugh MacMillan’s first-person account of the place from the latter-half of the 19th century. He told that the stone was to be found “in the woods of Auchmore at Killin,” some twelve miles from a similar curative rock at Fearnan called the Clach-na Cruich:
“This stone is called Fuaranna Druidh Chasad, or the Well of the Whooping-Cough. I heard of it incidentally last year in Paisley from a native of Killin, who remembered vividly when a boy having been taken to drink the water in the cavity of the stone, in order to cure the whooping-cough, from which he was suffering at the time. Happening to be in Killin lately, enjoying a few days’ holiday, I made inquiries in the village; but though some of the older inhabitants remembered having heard of the stone, and the remarkable practice connected with it, I could not get any one to describe the exact locality of it to me, so completely has the superstition passed away from the mind of the present generation. I went twice in search of the stone; and though, as I afterwards found, I had been within a very short distance of it unawares on both occasions, I was unsuccessful in finding it. At last I met an old man, and after some search we found the stone, and he identified it.
“I understood then what had puzzled me before, viz., why it should have been called Fuaran or Well, for I had supposed it had a cavity in a stone like that at Fernan. It was indeed a cavity; but it was in the projecting side of the stone, not on its top surface. It consisted of a deep basin penetrating through a dark cave-like arched recess into the heart of the stone. It was difficult to tell whether it was natural or artificial, for it might well have been either, and was possibly’ both; the original cavity having been a mere freak of nature — a weather-worn hole — afterwards perhaps enlarged by some superstitious hand, and adapted to the purpose for which it was used. Its sides were covered with green cushions of moss; and the quantity of water in the cavity was very considerable, amounting probably to three gallons or more. Indeed, so natural did it look, so like a fountain, that my guide asserted that it was a well formed by the water of on underground spring bubbling up through the rock. I said to him, “Then why does it not flow over?” That circumstance he seemed to regard as a part of its miraculous character to be taken on trust. I put my hand into it, and felt all round the cavity where the water lay, and found, as was self-evident, that its source of supply was from above and not from below; that the basin was simply filled with rain water, which was prevented from being evaporated by the depth of the cavity, and the fact that a large part of it was within the arched recess in the stone, where the sun could not get access to it. I was told that it was never known to be dry — a circumstance which I could well believe from its peculiar construction.
“The stone, which was a rough irregular boulder, somewhat square-shaped, of mica schist, with veins of quartz running through it, about 8 feet long and 5 feet high, was covered almost completely with luxuriant moss and lichen; and my time being limited, I did not examine it particularly for traces of cup-marks. There were several other stones of nearly the same size in the vicinity, but there was no evidence, so far as I could see, of any sepulchral or religious structure in the place. There is indeed a small, though well-formed and compact so-called Druidical circle, consisting of some seven or eight tall massive stones, with a few faint cup-marks on one of them, all standing upright within a short distance on the meadow near Kinnell House, the ancestral seat of the Macnabs, and it is a reasonable supposition that the Fountain of the Whooping-Cough may have had some connection in ancient times with this prehistoric structure in its immediate neighbourhood; for, unlike the cavity in the stone at Fernan, the peculiar shape of the cavity in this stone precluded its ever having been used as a mortar, and apparently it has never been used for any other purpose than that which it has so long served. There can be no doubt that the fountain dates from a remote antiquity; and the superstition connected with it has survived in the locality for many ages. It has now passed away completely, and the old stone is utterly neglected. The path leading to it, which. used to be constantly frequented, is now almost obliterated. This has come about within the last thirty years, and one of the principal causes of its being forgotten is that its site is now part of the private policies of Auchmore. The landlady of the house at Killin, where I resided, remembered distinctly having been brought to the stone to be cured of the whooping-cough; and, at the foot of it, there are still two flat stones that were used as steps to enable children to reach up to the level of the fountain, so as to drink its healing waters; but they are now almost hidden by the rank growth of grass and moss. There is more verisimilitude about the supposititious cures effected at this fountain than about those connected with the stone at Fernan; for one of the best remedies for the whooping-cough, it is well known, is change of air, and this the little patient would undoubtedly get, who was brought, it may be, a considerable distance to this spot. I am led to understand that, in connection with the cure, the ceremonial turn called “Deseul” was performed. The patient was required, before drinking the water, to go round the stone three times in a right-hand direction, which may be regarded as an act of solar adoration. This practice lingered long in this as in other parts of the Highlands, and the “deseul” was religiously performed round homesteads, newly-married couples, infants before baptism, patients to be cured, and persons to whom good success in some enterprise was wished; while the “Tuathseul,” or the unhallowed turn to the left, was also performed in cases of the imprecation of evil.”
Should anyone know the whereabouts of this fascinating healing stone and its waters, please let us know!
References:
MacKinlay, James M., Folklore of Scottish Lochs and Springs, William Hodge: Glasgow 1893.
From the famous Dick Hudson’s pub on the south side of Ilkley Moor, take the road right (east) for a half-mile until you reach the large Weecher Reservoir just off the roadside on your right. Less than 300 yards past the reservoir, a footpath takes you onto the moor itself. Walk up the path for about ⅔-mile — crossing one wall, then walking roughly parallel with another on your right — until you reach a crossing of paths where there are 2 gates or stiles. Take the lower of the two stiles, through the wall, but below the fence. You’ll see an awful Yorkshire Water cover, which has just about destroyed the once-fine well that had always flowed here. Below this, by the wallside, are the trickling remains of our old healing spring.
Archaeology & History
When I was a young boy, Horncliffe Well was the site we would visit every weekend as our first stopping-spot on our regular ventures exploring these moorlands — “from Wrose to Rombalds,” as we use to call it! The old well was always very plentiful, strong-flowing, cold and truly refreshing. It was undoubtedly the best water source on the entire Rombalds Moor region, never drying up. Even in the great droughts of 1976 and 1995, after all others had just about failed, the waters at Horncliffe were still flowing as strong as ever, as they had always done. But not anymore…
Edna Whelan’s old drawing
First described in land records of 1273 CE, this has always been a well of great repute and oral tradition told that this great old well never ran dry. It marked the ancient boundary point where the moorlands of Hawksworth, Burley and Bingley all meet. By name alone it is associated with the nearby and curious Horncliffe Circle, whose status itself is unclear (the circle seems more a place of refuge or living than a true ritual site).
Horncliffe House around 1801
The remains of old buildings on the flat just above where the waters once flowed were built in much more recent centuries. The building appears to have been started around 1799, for E.E. Dodds (1985) told that in 1800 it was used as a school for several years by local teacher Joshua Briggs. J. Horsfall Turner (1907) published a copy of an old drawing of the school, as it was soon after construction.
Horncliffe Well was dug into by the privatized water company known as Yorkshire Water (owned by rich greedy fuckers) in the 1990s, who channelled most of its endless supply away for commercial benefit. When their company was stealing the water from the moors, the workmen snapped an old markstone at its base next to the adjacent Horncliffe House (in ruins). The waters had always flowed fast and freely, but after Yorkshire Water had finished their ‘work’ here, the great majority of Horncliffe’s water supply subsided considerably, leaving walkers, birds and animals to suffer from its demise. In all sincerity, it’s to be hoped that good people someday will visit this once-fine site and return it to its previous healthy status.
Folklore
When we were kids we came here every weekend and got to know the old ranger who we’d meet either here or at the adjacent Horncliffe Circle, 250 yards NNE, where we’d sit and eat. In the mid-1970s, he told us that the old well was once a site where the fairy-folk would play, around Mayday (beltane). And though in later years I’ve sought for any information about this in all early antiquarian books that cover this area, I’ve never found any mention of this tale in print. The old ranger knew the moors and its history better than anyone I’ve ever known and many old stories died with him after his death.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2003.
Dodd, E.E., Bingley: A Yorkshire Town through Nine Centuries, M.T.D. Rigg: Guiseley 1985.
Laurence, Alastair, A History of Menston and Hawksworth, Smith Settle: Otley 1991.
Turner, J. Horsfall, Idle Upper Chapel Burial Registers and Graveyard Inscriptions, Harrison & Son: Bingley 1907.
Whelan, Edna, The Magic and Mystery of Holy Wells, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Whelan, Edna & Taylor, Ian, Yorkshire Holy Wells and Sacred Springs, Northern Lights: Dunnington 1989.
Go west out of Callander on the A84 road and after a mile or so turn left at Kilmahog, down the A821. After a few hundred yards, past the parking spot by the roadside, look up the small Bochastle Hill on your right and you’ll see a large singular boulder resting on top. That’s it!
Archaeology & History
When I first wandered up to this giant rock, I was hoping there may have been cup-markings on its surface, but none could be found. The stone is a glacial erratic. The Iron Age hillfort of Dunmore is 370 yards (338m) to the southwest.
Folklore
Samson Stone, close-up
In Mr Rogers’ (1853) fine historical tour of the region, he notes the Samson Stone “on the summit of one of the eminences of Bochastle,” a couple of miles west of Callander, but wondered “how it came to occupy this remarkable position.” If he’d have asked some of the old locals they may have told him what Rennie McOwan (1996) came across and described in his excellent work on the folklore of Scottish mountains. For the Samson Stone was traditionally thrown here by one of the Fingalian giants in ancient times. It was originally located upon Ben Ledi, nearly 3 miles northwest, and was one of several stones being thrown in a competition to see who was the strongest of the giants — and Samson was the name of the one who threw this huge rock. Another version of the same legend tells that the stone was originally thrown from Ben Lawers, 21 miles (34km) to the north.
References:
Bain, William, Around and about Callander, Callander & District Round Table n.d. (c.1978).
Dead easy! Just about in the middle of the village, by the side of the road where a seat allows the weary walker a chance to sit and rest, the Tarry Stone stands before it, with a plaque on the wall above the seat. The old postcard here shows its situation clear enough!
Archaeology & History
The history of this large rock near the middle of Cookham village is important in the history of the old village, though there is no direct evidence to give it a prehistoric pedigree. It was known to be an ancient boundary stone and is included in perambulation records of the area, where local people would annually walk and redefine the landscape of Cookham: a pastime known across the land, but which fell into disuse in Victorian times. Such perambulations are thought to trace way back into the mythic lands of prehistory — so the Tarry Stone here may well have an archaic provenance.
The known history of the stone was gathered and described in Stephen Darby’s (1899) rare work on the place-name history of Cookham. He wrote:
“A stone 3½ ft high, by 4 ft long, and 2½ ft thick. This formerly stood in Cookham village, about two feet from Dodson’s fence, where the roads parted to the church and the ferry. It is now in the Mill Garden at Cookham, where it was removed by the late George Venables when he was church-warden. This stone was formerly known as Cookham Stone.
“A.D. 1506: The tithing man presents that the Warrener ought to hold sports at Cookham Stone on the day of Assumption; and he has not done so (Cookham Manor Court Rolls).
“The stone was originally a boundary stone to the property of the Abbot of Cirencester, whose house was close by, as is shown in the will of John Luffenham, A.D. 1423.”
An old plaque that was once attached to the rock told, “The Tarry Stone at which sports were held before 1507 AD, stood formerly 50 yards NNE and was replaced here AD 1909 by order of the parish council.” The position described “50 yards away” was next to an old pub with the fascinating legendary name of ‘Bel and the Old Dragon’!
Folklore
Dennis Curran’s 1976 drawing
One of the main reasons this site has been included here is the legendary attachments. When the stone was moved from its original position in 1839 by a certain George Venables, to nearby Mill House Gardens, local people told how the Venable family thereafter were cursed. It was thereafter moved back to its earlier site!
The stone has been suggested as a meteorite — a theme that was echoed in Peter Ackroyd’s Thames (2007), but the Tarry Stone is a regional sarsen rock, albeit peppered with erosion holes, giving a more ‘foreign’ look to it!
Cookham was also the village where the spirit of the god Herne “winds his horn and the music of his hounds can be heard from across the common.” (Yarrow 1974) The stone was also the focal point of village games in earlier centuries.
References:
Ackroyd, Peter, The Thames: Sacred River, Chatto & Windus: London 2007.
Darby, Stephen, Place and Field-Names of Cookham, Berkshire, privately printed: London 1899.
Hallam, Elizabeth, Domesday Heritage, Arrow: London 1986.
Carlie Craig is the tree- covered cliff, centre of photo
If you’re coming from Blairlogie, a half-mile west of the village, take the B998 road to the university, but turn right up the first road that runs uphill into the trees. But if you’re coming from Stirling or Bridge of Allan, keep your eyes peeled for the barely visible B998 at the crossroads and go up the hill, and along, for a good mile, below the Uni, past the factory, then up the small road on your left. Up this road go past the church another 100 yards and you’ll see the derelict ruins of Logie Kirk on your right. Right above the ruin you’ll see the tree-lined cliff immediately behind. This is the Carlie Craig!
Folklore
Carlie Craig on the 1862 map
The tree-covered Carlie Crags above the old ruined church and graveyard of Logie Kirk immediately below (thought to have been built in 1684) has long been associated with legends of old witches. Deriving its name from ‘carlin’, a witch or old woman (cailleach), the Crags were traditionally the place of heathen rites (authentic ones, not your plastic pagan types). In David Morris’ (1935) essay on the local township, he told the common story that “an elder in Logie Kirk was of the opinion that the Carla’ Craig…was haunted.” At the end of the 19th century, Morris remembered a local lady known as ‘Ailie’, who was said by many old folk to be the traditional “witch of Logie.”
“Sickly children were brought to her for her blessing. Occasionally people came from as far as Stirling on this errand. Her method of giving the blessing was to blow her breath on the child, and this was supposed to ward off evil. It was also said that anyone buried in Logie Kirkyard on the first day of May, Hallowe’en, or other days of that kind, without her blessing, would not rest in his grave…”
Another legend told that,
“around 1720 witches were believed to rendezvous with the Evil One (i.e. the devil) who would appear in the form of a large black dog.”
A lengthier account of the belief in witchcraft and animistic pre-christian rites above the crags was told by Charles Rogers (1853):
“About the second decade of last century, there lived in the parish of Logie several ill-favoured old women, to whom the reputation of witchcraft was confidently attached. They were believed to hold nocturnal dialogues and midnight revels with the Evil One, and Carlie Crag was regarded as one of their places of rendezvous. Satan, though he was believed to appear to them in various forms, was understood, in his interviews with the dreaded sisterhood, to appear most frequently in the aspect of a large shaggy dog, in which form it was alleged he had repeatedly been seen by the minister. An elder of the kirk had been returning of an evening from a shooting excursion among the hills, with a trusty musket, which he had picked up some years before on the field of Sheriffmuir, and discovering on the top of Carlie an animal realizing the description of the Satanic mastiff, resolved to try upon it the effects of a shot. He knelt down cautiously near the foot of the crag, and after ejaculating a short prayer, and slipping into his musket a silver coin, fired with trembling heart but steady aim. His victim, evidently shot dead, tumbled to the base, and the delighted and astonished elder lost no time in personally communicating to the minister the success of his wonderful adventure. Though not a little superstitious, the minister was somewhat sceptical as to the mysterious dog being really dead. He however agreed to accompany his elder next morning to the foot of the crag to inspect the carcase; but on reaching the spot, they found the remains of no shaggy dog or evil genius, but the lifeless form of the beautiful pet goat of a poor and aged woman, a much respected parishioner. The minister and elder both shed tears. The wicked dog still lived, the innocent goat had perished. The elder however took credit to himself for his good intentions and valorous intrepidity ; and the minister deemed it proper to improve the subject in his pulpit prelections on the following Sabbath. Discoursing on the subject of resistance to the Devil, he remarked, that the Evil One might assume numerous shapes and forms; that he went about as a roaring lion was declared in the Word, but he might take to himself various other aspects. He might even appear as a black colley dog.” But whatever form he may assume,” added the minister, ” he cannot be overcome or destroyed by powder and shot. There is a gun, however, that will shoot him, and it is this — it is the Bible. Shoot him then, every one of you, with this gun, and he shall be shot.”
Whether the vicar’s biblical superstitions were adopted by local people—who were so much more used to the living animism of landscape and natural cycles—is questionable. The crag is a fine site for ritual magick and its associative devil-lore probably derives from Pictish shamanistic practices, remains of which are evident across the Scottish hillls and northern England, where they survived for some considerable time…
References:
Morris, David, B., “Causewayhead a Hundred Years Ago”, in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society, 1935.
Roger, Charles, A Week at Bridge of Allan, Adam & Charles Black: Edinburgh 1853.
Watson, Angus, The Ochils – Placenames, History, Tradition, Perth & Kinross District Libraries 1995.
Legendary Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 058 865
Archaeology & History
Travelling along the old road between Crossford and towards Cairneyhill, on the right-hand (north) side, there was until recently a huge boulder, described by the folklorist J.E. Simpkins (1914),
“Its horizontal dimensions above ground are diagonally 18 feet by 21 feet; its vertical height above ground 5 feet… I estimate its weight at nearly 200 tons.”
The stone was proclaimed by 19th century geologists to be a glacial deposit from the upper region of the Forth (the nearest mountain region possessed of this type of stone); although our old petroglyph writer, Sir James Simpson, postulated the Witch’s Stone to be “of meteoric origin.”
But like oh so many old sites with heathen tales attached, the stone was destroyed by a local farmer on 7 February, 1972. The following interesting notes were made in a Crossford & Cairneyhill School log-book, describing its destruction:
“The local farmer blasted the “Witch’s Stone”, situated about 300m East of school at 2.30 this afternoon. Children vacated both buildings and sheltered at West End of main building. All windows were opened. Police informed that further operations of this nature will be carried out at weekend.”
A week later on February 14, all “remains of “Witch’s Stone” removed by blasting at 3pm today.”
On the other side of the road from our Witch’s Stone was another boulder, this time known as the Cadger’s Stone, said by Beveridge (1888) to have got its name,
“from the circumstance of its having formed a landmark for the ‘cadgers’, or itinerant merchants, who were wont to rest themselves and their ponies whilst they deposited for a short while their burdens on the stone.”
The earliest OS-map of the region in 1856 shows neither of these stones, but does highlight a Capel Stane, or Stone of the Horse, very close by.
Folklore
The stone was obviously of some traditional importance to local people in pre-christian times. David Beveridge (1888) described the position and creation myth of the Witch’s Stone as follows:
“On our right a singular-looking stone of blue limestone appears in a field, and is known as the Witch’s Stone, the popular legend being that a notable witch in this neighbourhood found it on the seashore, and that after she carried it some distance in her apron, the string of the latter broke, and the stone has since continued to lie in the place where it fell. “
A few years after this, the folklorist J.E. Simpkins (1914) wrote:
“The legend connected with this boulder is, that a witch wishing to bestow a valuable gift on the Pitfirrane family, resolved to present to them a cheese-press. With that view, she lifted this boulder and carried it some distance in her apron, but owing to its excessive weight the apron-strings broke and the stone fell to the ground, where it has remained ever since.”
If anyone knows anything more about this old stone, or has any old photos of the fella, please let us know!
References:
Beveridge, David, Between the Ochils and Forth, William Blackwood: Edinburgh 1888.
Simpkins, John Ewart, Examples of Printed Folk-lore Concerning Fife, with some Notes on Clackmannan and Kinross-shires, Sidgwick & Jackson: London 1914.
Bittova journey this — but well worth it! From Broughton-in-Furness take the A595 road west, past Duddon Bridge for about another 1½ miles, turning right up the small single-track country lane beloved of city-mind drivers, up the fertile scruffy road, past Broadgate and stopping just before Cragg Hall Farm. There’s a dirt-track running up the back of Cragg Hall. Go up here and keep walking for a mile or so until, as you approach Swinside Farm and the fields open up in front of you, the stones begin to appear.
Archaeology & History
Swinside, looking east
The Swinside stone circle is Aubrey Burl’s favourite. And for good reason! Like other impressive megalithic rings of the region, the stones are large, well set, and the landscape holds the stones finely in the hills. Without the landscape here, Swinside (like Castlerigg and elsewhere) would not have such grandeur. When you sit in the ring, or walk round it, Knott Hill to the south was of obvious mythic relevance to the people who built this stone circle four or five thousand years ago. But this can be said of many of the surrounding crags. A few miles southwest we see the top of the haunted Black Combe rising into clouds, still speaking to some with spirits from animistic realms, long known to our ancestors. Following the skyline west and past the small falls of Whicham stream, whose name speaks of long past trees, we reach the near-west skyline with the cairn-looking pap of the Raven Crag, symptomatic of magickal rites calling to and beyond the circle. To the north is the symbolic ridge of Lath Rigg. Along the craggy eastern ridges from here you get the impression that you’re more in Argyll than Cumbria; and the break in the hills to the southeast reaches to the distant pinnacle of Kirkby Moor, where the midwinter sunrise emerged to tell of solar calendrical motions and the coming of the dark season to our megalithic tribes. But enough of the landscape!
Swinside on 1867 OS-map
Although the name Swinside can be traced back to the 13th century, the local folk-name of the circle—Sunken Kirk—was mentioned for the first time as “the Chapell Suke” in Parish Registers of 1624. No earlier literary source has yet been identified, probably because of the isolation of the site and the lack of people writing about the area. Swinside stone circle is, just about, a perfect circle, give or take a foot here and there, holding the circular dome of the heavens within its domain. Yet despite its almost regal appearance, early references to the site seem scant. It seems to have been first described in William Hutchinson’s huge History of Cumberland (1794), where he told:
“In the neighbourhood of Millum, at a place called Swinside, in the estate of William Lewthwaite Esq., of Whitehaven, is a small but beautiful druidical monument; it is circular, about twenty eight yards in diameter; the stones of which it is composed are from six to eight feet high, all standing and complete. A little to the south, is another of larger dimensions, but not in so perfect a state: the neighbouring people call those places by the emphatical names of Sunken Kirks.”
A few years later, William Camden’s legendary text Britannia was edited and reprinted again, this time by Richard Gough (1806), who told:
“At Swineshead, a very high hill…is a druidical temple, which the country folk call Sunken Kirk, i.e., a church sunk into the Earth. It is nearly a circle of very large stones, pretty entire. No situation could be more agreeable to the Druids than this; mountains almost encircle it, not a tree is to be seen in the neighbourhood, nor a house, except a shepherd’s cot at the foot of a mountain surrounded by a few barren pastures. At the entrance are four large stones, two placed on each side at the distance of six feet. The largest on the left hand side is five feet six inches in height, and ten feet in circumference. Through this you enter into a circular area, 29 yards by 30. This entrance is nearly southeast. On the north or right-hand side is a huge stone of conical form, in height nearly nine feet. Opposite the entrance is another large stone which has once been erect, but is now fallen within the area: its length is eight feet. The left hand or southwest is one, in height seven feet, in circumference 11 feet nine inches. The altar probably stood in the middle, as there are some stones still to be seen, though sunk deep in the earth. The circle is nearly complete, except on the western side some stones are wanting. The largest stones are about thirty one or two in number. The outwards part of the circle upon the sloping ground is surrounded with a buttress or rude pavement of smaller stones raised about half a yard from the surface of the Earth… This monument of antiquity, when viewed within the circle, strikes you with astonishment, how the massy stones could be placed in such regular order either by human strength or mechanical power.”
Tall, northernmost stone to centreNortheast section of the ring
It seems he was impressed! Yet despite this, in the 19th century not many folk strayed this far into the western edges of Lakeland to look upon Swinside. There were occasional descriptions from travellers and antiquarians such as J.T. Blight (1843) and Edwin Waugh (1861), each speaking of the site’s visual magnitude, but it wasn’t until archaeologist C.W. Dymond came here, first in 1872 and then again in 1877, that a fuller account of the site came into being. In his essay on a “Group of Cumberland Megaliths,” he said how the stones were still in excellent condition and that,
“few of the stones seem to have been removed — probably because plenty of material for walling and road-making could be collected from the neighbouring hillside.” (Dymond 1881)
When Mr Dymond first came here he told of the remains of a rowan tree which had split one of the stones, but this has long gone. More than twenty years after the archaeologist’s first visit, he returned with R.G. Collingwood to make a more detailed evaluation of the ring. He measured and planned Swinside like it had never been done before and his ground-plan (below) is still very accurate indeed. Aubrey Burl (1999) takes up the story:
“The ring was partly excavated by Dymond, Collingwood and three men from midday Tuesday, 26 March 1901, until the close of the following evening. They dug two long, intersecting 46cm-wide trenches, NW-SE, NE-SW, across the ring with a curious zigzagging pattern of others between southeast and southwest: an investigation of some 51m² of the central area. Within the circle the trenches represented less than a thirteenth of the 642m² of the interior.
“Below the grass and turf was a thin layer of soil under which yellowish marl or ‘pinnel’ varied from 15cm to 75cm in depth, being deepest at the entrance which had been dug into earlier around 1850. Wherever it was uncovered the gravelly marl was wavily uneven, presumably the result of ploughing. The bases of the circle-stones rested on the pinnel, held firmly in their holes by small cobbles with others heavily packed around the sides. The only finds were a nut-sized lump of charcoal just northeast of the centre with others near the entrance; a minute splinter of decayed bone near the first bit of charcoal and two pieces of red stone. There were also some contemporary glass sherds and a Lancaster halfpenny dated between 1789 and 1794 lying in the uppermost turf layer.”
Dymond’s 1881 plan of Swinside
Since these early archaeological digs, Swinside has given up little else. Much like other stone circles in the British Isles, few real clues as to exactly what went on here have been forthcoming. But in the 1960s, investigations into megalithic sites made a bit of a quantum leap and some old ideas about astronomical ingredients were resurrected.
Alexander Thom’s plan of Swinside
Swinside was one of the places explored by engineer and megalith enthusiast, Alexander Thom. Thom was one of the prime figures instrumental in the resurgence of interest in megalithic sites — and his finds of megalithic astronomy and prehistoric mathematics had a lot to do with it. Although we know today that some of Thom’s work isn’t correct, his explorations and research stand him far ahead of most archaeologists who pretended to represent this area of research. He left us with the most detailed ground-plans of megalithic sites to date and, of course, showed some fascinating alignments.
Thom listed Swinside as site “L1/3” and made the most detailed and accurate ground-plan of this and 18 other megalithic rings in Cumbria. He found it to be 94 feet in diameter, with an internal area measuring 6940 square feet. The one major alignment Thom found at Swinside was of the winter solstice sunrise, lining up just on the edge of the ‘entrance’ to the circle’s southeastern side.
Folklore
Like a number of other stone circles, folklore told that you couldn’t count the stones. Janet and Colin Bord (1997) also told that people once tried to build a church here in early christian days, but once the builders went home in the evening, the Devil pulled down what they’d built during the day. A motif found at Ilkley’s Hanging Stones cup-and-ring carvings and many other prehistoric sacred sites in the country.
References:
Armstrong, A.M. et al., The Place-Names of Cumberland – volume 2, Cambridge University Press 1950.
Bord, Janet & Colin, Prehistoric Britain from the Air, Weidenfeld & Nicolson: London 1999.
Burl, Aubrey, “‘Without Sharp North…’ – Alexander Thom and the Great Stone Circle of Cumbria”, in Ruggles, Clive, Records in Stone, Cambridge University Press, 1988.
Burl, Aubrey, A Guide to the Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, New Haven & London 1995.
Burl, Aubrey, Great Stone Circles, Yale University Press: New York & London 1999.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Dymond, C.W., “A Group of Cumberland Megaliths,” in Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeological Society, volume 5, 1881.
Dymond, C.W., “An exploration at the Megalithic Circle called Sunken Kirk at Swinside, in the Parish of Millom, Cumberland,” in Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeological Society, New Series volume 2, 1902.
Gough, Richard (ed.), Camden’s Britannia, J. Nichols and Son: London 1806.
Hutchinson, William, The History of the County of Cumberland – volume 1, F. Jollie: Carlisle 1794.
Seton, Ray, The Reason for the Stone Circles in Cumbria, R. Seton: Morecambe 1995.
Thom, Alexander, Megalithic Sites in Britain, Oxford University Press 1967.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, H.A.W., Megalithic Rings, BAR: Oxford 1980.
Waterhouse, John, The Stone Circles of Cumbria, Phillimore: Chichester 1985.
Waugh, Edwin, Seaside Lakes and Mountains of Cumberland, Alexander Ireland: Manchester 1861.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
Huge thanks to Brian Else for his photos. And to Paul and Tricia for taking us here, in awesome downpour weather!
The folklorist John Nicholson (1890) wrote about this “block of natural concrete standing at the head of Drewton Dale, near South Cave” — which modern OS-maps call Austin Dale. Legend told how it “derived its name from St. Augustine, who used to preach from this stone to the heathen, before Britain became christian.” This obviously supplanted an earlier heathen site, but it’s difficult to work out what that may have been. It could have been the lost ‘Rud Stone’ immediately west; or perhaps had some traditional relationship with the healing well which emerges a short distance away further down the valley. Just above here as well, we find an ancient dragon’s lair at Drakes Hole, which could also hold a clue to this place.
A couple of years after Nicholson mentioned the site, John Hall (1892) published his excellent history of the township, in which he described St. Austin’s Stone thus:
“It’s a mass of rock projecting from the side of a hill and in its longest part, extending from the hillside to the face of the stone, measures about 60 feet. By some it is supposed to have formed a centre for druidical worship, and that the adjoining township took its name of Drewton (or Druid’s Town) from this fact. When St. Augustine came to England…he is said to have visited this part of the East Riding; and that this stone took its name from his visit.”
St Austins Stone 1890 map
The site was also surmounted by a cross at some time in its recent history, but this has gone. The earth mystery writer Philip Heselton (1986) told that the nearby Well was indeed a place connected to St. Austin’s Stone, in an early article in Northern Earth Mysteries, saying:
“St. Austins Stone near South Cave is a rock outcrop where Saint Augustine is said to have made converts, baptizing them in a nearby well. The site is used for church services. Every seven years, part of the stone falls away, but it always grows again.”
The site should be examined for potential cup-and-ring markings; as well as reports on the status of the Well. Any photos of the present situation of the site would be most welcome.
References:
Gutch, Mrs E., County Folk-Lore volume VI: Examples of Printed Folk-loreConcerning the East Riding of Yorkshire, David Nutt: London 1912.
Hall, John George, A History of South Cave and other Parishes in the East Riding of Yorkshire, Edwin Ombler: Hull 1892.
Nicholson, John, Folk Lore of East Yorkshire, Simpkin Marshall: London 1890.
Thompson, Thomas, Researches into the History of Welton and its Neighbourhood, privately printed: Kingston-upon-Hull 1869.
The well is all dried up today, but its remains are about 200 yards north of the river Wharfe. Sam Brewster (1980) told the easiest way to find it: “To get there from Thorp Arch you take the trackway that goes to the south of the church and follow this until you are walking alongside the river; eventually you will come to a barrier of barbed wire near some old disused water-works; get under or over this barrier and turn 90 degrees to your left, following the barbed wire until you come to a wood, the other side of the barbed wire; go into the wood and turn right; keep exploring near the edge of the wood until you find a tree under which is a hollow which used to be St. Helen’s Well.” Once here you can see where the water used to flow down a narrow channel and under a little bridge.
Archaeology & History
Carved cross remains found near St Helen’s Well
This ancient and well-known healing spring is shown on early OS-maps emerging a short distance north of the River Wharfe besides St. Helen’s Beck in Chapel Wood, adjacent to the Kirkstall Ing or field. In the western fields close by was once an ancient chapel and, closer to the holy well, once “stood St. Helen’s (or St. Helena’s) Cross, which is somewhat crudely represented in Dr. Whitaker’s History of Craven“, (Speight 1902), illustrated here.
This well possesses a prodigious occult history yet is curiously absent from most studies on the subject. The place is said to have been a respected holy site that was venerated long before the Romans arrived here. Found at a place called the Rudgate — but known locally as St. Helen’s Ford — it is also said to be haunted. Angela Smith (n.d.) considers the traditions surrounding the well to be pre-Roman, and the curative waters would certainly have been known of at the time of their occupation here,
“because it lies at the side of Roman road No.280, just north of where it crosses the River Wharfe at St. Helen’s Ford, leading to the Roman fort at Newton Kyme.”
St Helens Well in 1900
Several species of psychoactive plants grow adjacent to the well, which are thought by Phillips, (1976) Devereux (1992) and I as serving ritual shamanic purposes. The likelihood is more so than not. The oracular nature of the site which R.C. Hope (1893) and others have described here is particularly interesting: in traditions the world over, oracles were often consulted after the ingestion or use of sacred plants, such as are found here.
Due to the sacred nature of this spring and its importance in local folklore and history, it should be recovered from its present state. The fact that this place was highly important as a ritual and sacred site to christians, pagans, Romans and peasants alike, and now hides all-but-lost and forgotten is a disgrace.
Folklore
A fascinating tale hangs over this still-revered holy well which legend tells had a chapel standing adjacent, dedicated to Helen in the 7th century – although no trace of it is visible today. Local historian Edmund Bogg (1904) recounted how a local sexton told of “padfoots and barguests and ‘that grim foul beast with clanking chain’ which on dark nights kept its vigil” near St.Helen’s Well. Padfoots and barguests are Yorkshire names for spectral black dogs, said to be bringers of death and misfortune (they are one of several remaining folk-ingredients from the Underworld myths in British shamanism).
St Helen’s Well, c.1935St Helens Well in 1934
Folklorist Guy Ragland Phillips (1976), referring to an article in The Dalesman in 1971, told how a Mrs Dorothy Tate as a young girl used to visit the site and would tie pieces of rag on the bushes aside the place as grateful offerings to the spirit of the well. She said however, that she had gone about doing this in the wrong way, as according to tradition such offerings are to be done secretly. The article showed a photograph of Mrs Tate (from 1908) tying one of the memaws to the wych-elm tree overhanging the old spring.
People visited the well – probably on August 18 – to divine the future with the oracle which Hope (1893) described as being here, always in the dead of night without being seen, leaving before sunrise. It has been visited by thousands of people over the centuries, with gifts of rag-hangings, pins and other memaws. Such offerings continue even to this day. When Harry Speight (1902) visited St. Helen’s Well at the turn of the century, he related how as many as forty or fifty hangings would be left at any one time on the branches of the trees. He wrote:
“The water is beautifully soft and clear, and in former times was much resorted to as a specific for sore or weak eyes. There are two other springs close by, which were also held to be sacred, but they do not bear any particular dedications. An old plantation a little north of the well is known as Chapel Wood, which commemorates St. Helen’s chapel and the ancient church at Bilton, three miles further north, and about a mile to the east of the Roman Rudgate, is also dedicated to St. Helen.”
A few years before Speight’s visit here, Dr Fred Lees and the botanist, Robert Baines, visited St. Helen’s Well, and wrote similarly of the lore and memaws they found there:
“There are veritably hundreds of these bedizenings affixed and removed surreptitiously (probably before sunrise), according to an unwritten law, for none are ever caught in the act. And yet during the summer months a careful observer may detect almost weekly evidence of a shy communicant with the ghostly genius of someone¾country maid or her dumb shy swain. What murmured litany (if any) had to be said is lost; most likely nothing more was necessary than the unspoken wish…Pieced together and codified, fact and heresay testify as follows: ‘The visitor to the grove, before rise of sun, has to face the tree [a wych-elm overhanging the well] to detach from his or her own person some garment, to dip it in the well, and having knotted or whilst hanging the fragment to any convenient twig…is to breathe a ‘wish’ telling no-one what that wish may be; these conditions strictly observed, what is desired shall come to pass.'” (in Phillips, 1976)
When the archaeologist C.N. Bromehead (1935) and geologist J.V. Stephens came to the site in the 1930s, despite the fall of the well, he was surprised to find local peasants still respecting the spirits of the site, reporting:
“There is now no well or visible spring, but from the position at the lower margin of a gravel terrace it is obvious that water would be obtained by digging a few feet; a small stream flows just east of the site… It is curious that the hanging of rags should survive when the actual well has vanished, but the writer has visited the spot many times in the last seven years and there are always plenty of obviously recent additions. The custom is to stand facing the well (i.e., due west), preferably after sunset, wish, and then attach something torn from one’s clothing either to the big tree — wych elm — or to any of the bushes. Probably the custom is largely maintained by vagrants who frequently camp in the wood, but it also has its attraction for courting couples from the neighbouring villages!”
Such offerings at the site of St. Helen’s Well are still left by locals and some of the plastic pagans, who tie pieces of artificial material to the remnants of the wych-elm and other trees, which actually pollutes the Earth and kills the spirit here. Whilst the intent may be good, please, if you’re gonna leave offerings here, make sure that the rags you leave are totally biodegradable. The magical effectiveness of your intent is almost worthless if the material left is toxic to the environment and will certainly have a wholly negative effect on the spirit of the placehere. Please consider this to ensure the sacred nature of the site.
…to be continued…
References:
Bogg, Edmund, Lower Wharfeland, the Old City of York and the Ainsty, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Brewster, Sam, ‘St. Helen’s Well,’ in Wind & Water 1:4, 1980.
Bromehead, C.N., ‘Rag Wells,’ in Antiquity IX, March 1935.
