Healing Well (site of): OS Grid Reference – NN 7667 4446
Also Known as:
Town Well
Archaeology & History
On the narrow long and winding south-road along Loch Tay, from Kenmore towards Acharn, just a couple of fields past Portbane could once be seen, above the left-side of the road in the trees, a reputable healing well known by local people from Aberfeldy to Killin. The regional historian William Gillies (1925; 1938) described its dying memory more than a hundred years ago. Today, as the region is all but infested by little other than holiday-homers, there is little hope of finding actual locals who’ll know of the place. Mr Gillies told the Well to be,
“about 1 mile west from Kenmore, and close to the public road leading to Acharn. At one time it may have been a dip well, but, now the spring issues as a strong spout from the bank. I have not been able to ascertain for what ailment its waters were considered a remedy, but consumptive persons have been known to develop a great craving for this water and had it brought to them. It is still called An Tiobairt, and no doubt gave its name to the old village which at one time was situated some distance above it on the farm, and which was known as Bal-na-tiobairt. The old dry stone walls may still be seen.”
The ancient village has long since gone.
After rainy days a good boggy arena may be had in the trees here—which is all that now remains of the curative waters… much like the even more important rag-well that once ran on the slopes above the nearby Acharn Falls.
I was up here again not long ago and forgot to check on the welfare of the waters here (bad of me, I know…), instead just walking past to have a gander at the impressive stone circle on the tops. The site has been neglected, perhaps due to William Gilllies’ (1925) initial description of the place in the past tense. In a short survey he did of some of the healing wells of the region, this one, “above the Falls and close to the old bridge known as Drochaid Bhragaid (the bridge of the brae)” was where,
“until a generation ago, people were in the habit of going there to wish, when they threw in small offerings. It has now fallen into neglect and is absorbed in the marsh.”
The spring and its muddy section can be seen on the west side of the waters, just above the old bridge, as affirmed in Gillies’ (1938) later magnum opus, where he found it to be named the Fuaran Barain, or Barane’s Well—although he failed to disclose the origin of the name and the stories behind it. It was used as a rag well, as branches in the trees above the spring were bedecked with pieces of cloth, along with offerings being made, in the hope that the spirit of the waters would impart good welfare on celebrants with humility. Sympathetic magick at ancient sites in this neck o’ the woods was widespread until very recently by many a local (the real stuff—not this neopagan or neo-druidic stuff). It was simply a part of life whose traditions went way way back into ancestral memory—as things should be…
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.
The easiest route to get up here is probably from Wooler (locals, please forgive me!). Head up the B6348 road then, after about two miles, turn left over the old bridge, then keep going uphill where the road veers right and keep going for nearly a mile where (keep your eyes peeled!) you’ll see a dirt-track on your left that heads to West Horton Farm. Walk up the dirt-track, keeping north past the farm until you enter the field. You’ll walk past the newly-found West Horton (1a) cup-and-ring and, walking along the side of the fence, you’ll eventually reach the little copse of trees. Once here, in the field over the fence you’ll see a scatter of low-lying rocks in the field. Head for them and look around!
Archaeology & History
Cluster of cup-marks
Found a hundred yards or so to the east of the much more renowned and impressive West Horton ridge carvings (the raised spine in the land in the background up the slope in the photo), this basic cup-marked stone has (curiously) not previously been reported and was re-discovered by rock art explorer Tom Cleland in the summer of 1996. It’s nowt special to look at, and consists of merely four notable cup-marks—possibly five—that are quite deep and eroded, with one of them seeming to have a channel linking it it another, smaller cup. There is a scattering of other rock surfaces by this stone, none of which have any features on them apart from this stone.
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.
Along the main A924 Atholl Road in Pitlochry, head west towards the Perth Road, under the railway bridge and, another 200 yards along, take the right-turn and walk over the river bridge. Once on the other side of the River Tummel, about 150 yards on turn left and walk along the minor road for 400 yards where, just past some houses, a path takes you on the left into the fields. You’ll be able to see a large tree-topped mound in the next field ahead of you. Follow the line of fencing and you’ll reach the site.
Archaeology & History
Dunfallandy, looking N
This is a gorgeous site in a beautiful setting, close to where the River Tummel meets with the River Tay. It has that archetypal fairy mound look to it and, if the folklore is right, the association would seem to be a real one! The old school ley-hunters that follow Alfie Watkin’s original notions of straight tracks would also be intrigued by this notable tomb.
An early description of it by the local writer Hugh Mitchell (1921) told that, around the middle of the 19th century, this large mound of rock and earth, “was surrounded by upright stones, but these were carted away about eighty years ago to repair a breach in the embankment of the River Tummel.” In Mitchell’s (1923) later work on the antiquities of the Pitlochry district he expanded on his earlier notes, pointing out, again, the notable clump of trees on the grassland plain where it lives:
The fairy mound in 1925Top of the mound
“The trees are growing on a Neolithic burial mound,” he wrote, “which is composed of small stones and earth, and is circular, having a height of about 8 feet and a diameter of about 50 feet. It is surrounded by a shallow ditch about 6 feet wide and 18 inches deep and having a raised margin round it. There was a row of standing stones round the mound which were carted away about 80 years ago… This mound has been partially excavated and any graves near the surface have been destroyed, but some of the old people say they remember seeing small stone cists, which appear to have been of the usual Neolithic type. The surrounding ditch is unusual, and in that respect the mound differs from any other in the district.”
When John Dixon (1925) came to describe the site a few years later, he merely echoed what Mitchell had written, although said that the “row of standing stones” Mitchell described was a “circle of standing stones.” Without a modern excavation, we may never know which is the more accurate. The closest it seems we’ve got to archaeologists looking at the site is when the old-school dudes Childe & Graham (1943) came here, but they just told us what we already knew, saying how it,
“is constructed of large rounded stones and earth and measures 60 feet by 48 feet on plan; its sides rise steeply to a flattened top the surface of which, though disturbed, shows no trace of any cist.”
Dunfallandy, looking SW
The cists, of course, had been shifted a century earlier. And when Colin Lidell (1994) included the site in his recent history of Pitlochry, he too could add no more than what the old antiquarians had given us…
It’s not changed much over the last century. The mound has got slightly smaller, in both height and width, and the ditch that surrounded the tomb wasn’t apparent on my recent visit—although the crops were high. My own personal thought is that we’re looking at a Bronze Age tomb, not a neolithic one—but I’d love to be wrong! The older the better in my opinion! It’s worth checking out when you’re in the area. I loved the place!
Folklore
On the east-side of the River Tummel, a few hundred yards from the tomb, there are several place-names of Dalshian, meaning “the flat or field of the peaceful folk, or fairies”, which the local writer Hugh Mitchell (1921) thought also related to the ground on which our tomb resides:
“There seems little doubt,” he wrote, “that this burial mound is the Sithean (Shian) which at one time gave its name to the whole flat.”
Traditions of the sith (fairies) and similar creatures are rampant in this neck o’ the woods.
References:
Childe, V.G. & Graham, Angus, “Some Notable Prehistoric and Medieval Monuments”, in Proceedings Society Antiquaries Scotland, volume 77, 1943.
Dixon, John H., Pitlochry, Past and Present, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1925.
Feacham, Richard, Guide to Prehistoric Scotland, Batsford: London 1977.
Lidell, Colin, Pitlochry — Heritage of a Highland District, Perth & Kinross District Library 1994.
Mitchell, Hugh, “The Picts in Athol”, in Transactions Inverness Scientific Society Field Club, volume 8, 1921.
Mitchell, Hugh, Pitlochry District: Its Topography, Archaeology and History, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1923.
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!
From Ilkley central, go up Wells Road and, several hundred yards past the cattle-grid, keep your eyes peeled and turn left up the small moorland road for a half-mile and park-up at the start of the track to Silver Well cottage. Walk along here and, on the way, you may as well pass the cup-and-ring marked Weary Hill Stone, and the other Silver Well carvings further west through the heather. From the Silver Well (3) cup-marked stone, follow the walling uphill for nearly 100 yards until your reach the small gate. Go through it and stick to the footpath for 200 yards and then keep your eyes peeled for a large wonky ovoid stone less than 20 yards to your right. It’s a big thing, so you’ll find it easily enough.
Archaeology & History
Hedges 1986 sketch
Although this is primarily a cup-marked stone (a faint ring is possible around one of them), it’s a good design. It does it for me anyway! Sitting on a ridge at the top of a slope overlooking the Wharfe valley, from here the landscape opens up for many miles ahead of us looking mainly to the north, although the horizons both east and west also call our attention as the rising and setting sun would speak around the equinoxes. But it’s the airt of north which mainly calls from here. A scatter of cups splatter the rock surface, all of them on one half of the stone acting out in usual disorderly conduct apart from one spot where there are three deep cups in a line: this is the most notable part of the carving. At the top (southern) nose of the stone is a triangle of them and they then becoming increasingly disordered as you move along the stone. There are seemingly twenty of them altogether (perhaps more) with one of them having a short groove oozing out of it which can be difficult to see when the light isn’t quite right.
Silver Well (1) carvingSilver Well (1) carving
It was first described in Hedges (1986) survey, where he told it to be a “large flat rock in bracken with sixteen clear cups, four other possible cups, grooves and one basin”—although at the same time somehow, erroneously, he thought the carving may have been uncovered by Stuart Feather in 1970, confusing this stone with two more complex petroglyphs 300 yards to the west of here. Give it your attention when you’re walking on this ridge, before walking to the two others 300 yards to the west. It’s certainly worth looking at.
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, “Notice of Sculptured Rocks near Ilkley,” in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, volume 38, 1882.
Anonymous, Walks Around Cup and Ring Stones, ITIC: Bradford n.d. (1995)
Boughey, K.J.S. & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks of Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Morris, Ronald W.B., “The Prehistoric Rock Art of Great Britain: A Survey of All Sites Bearing Motifs more Complex than Simple Cup-marks,” in Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, volume 55, 1989.
Acknowledgements: Big thanks to the petroglyphic hands of Graeme Chappell and Tom Cleland for the work at this stone. Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
This old stone edifice is easy to find. As you’re going along the old A628 Pontefract Road through High Ackworth, just where the road junction takes you on the B6421 (Purston Lane), park up where the track takes you up to the church on the right. And there, just set back off the north-side of the road by the steps and curious old shelter, with the greenery and houses to the rear, you’ll see what you’re looking for.
Archaeology & History
Although this old village cross is set up on a three-tiered rise of steps, these steps are not as old as the cross remnant that surmounts it, as they were constructed in the 20th century. The final ‘step’ however—a part of the old cross-base—is much older. It’s precise age is unknown, but tradition relates it as being 16-17th Century.
Tradition relates the creation of the village cross to a great illness that befell the local villagers, whose tale was cited at some length by one of Ackworth’s early historians. It formerly stood beneath the boughs of a great elm tree, whose offspring are hopefully still around. Henry Thompson (1879) wrote:
The cross on the Green, 1870Cross shown on 1852 map
“The Cross under the shadow of this kingly tree has a curious history in its keeping. From its steps, in the pre-Reformation times, the monks from the neighbouring priory at Nostel were wont on Fridays and Sundays to preach to the people. One of these, a man of noble soul and kindly heart, won the affections of the people in a wondrous manner. Children clung to his skirts in delight and love—the strong man admired and revered him, the old and weak reposed upon him as a pillar of strength and a tower of refuge. But business or piety called him to Rome. The villagers gave him their tears and he gave them his blessing. Under the shadow of the Vatican he was smitten by the Plague and died. Such was the love which his brethren of the Priory bore him, that they could not rest without having him sepultured in their midst. In its transit, the body passed through Ackworth; and nothing would satisfy the ignorant but faithful love of his old hearers but once more to see, even in death, the face of one who had loved them so well. The leaden coffin was opened, the village was stricken with the Plague and three or four hundred fell victims to the dread visitant.”
And it was here, wrote Saywell (1894) that,
“the Cross is said to have been erected on the exact spot where the body rested, to commemorate at once that event, and also the dire consequences which were permitted by God to flow from it. The date of its mutilation, the removal of the Cross, and the substitution of a ball (the emblem of the world), is generally ascribed to the time of the Great Rebellion.” (in 1642)
In addition to this, a Plague Stone was erected on the northern outskirt of the village, known as “the great stone on Castle Syke Hill”. Due to the condition of all the villagers, they became taboo to all who lived beyond Ackworth and so the old stone, said Thompson, became
“the only point of contact between them and the outer world. Upon that stone the Ackworth purchaser dropped his money into a vessel of water, for which, a few hours afterwards, he found his return in merchandise.”
The old Plague Stone can still be seen, a half-mile north of the village on the west-side of the Pontefract Road, just before Sandy Gate Lane….
References:
Saywell, J.L., The Parochial History of Ackworth, James Atkinson: Pontefract 1894.
Thompson, Henry, History of Ackworth School, Centenary Committee: Ackworth 1879.
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.
Go up Wells Road out of Ilkley central, up and across the cattle-grid and, one-third of a mile (0.5km) past the grid, keep your eyes peeled for the small road on your left. Go up here for literally half-a-mile and park at the roadside. From here you’ll see the straight track leading to the Silver Well cottage in the trees. Walk 250 yards along the track (past the larger Weary Hill [3] carving on the slope just above) towards the cottage and, about fufty 100 yards before reaching the gate, walk up the slope through the heather to the small flat-faced rock that looks down at you. If you’re approaching the much larger, more notable boulder of the Silver Well (3) carving, you need to be about 20 yards east of it.
Archaeology & History
Line of distinct cup-marks
This is a simple but notable cup-marked rock. As you walk up the slope towards it, you get the impression you’re looking at the front-end of a tomb entrance of some sort—but it’s nothing of the sort (sadly). Once you reach the flat face of stone, you’ll see that its topmost section is a thin wedge of stone along which are three distinct and quite deep cup-markings. The stone was first mentioned in Hedges (1986) survey, where he also thought there may have been a fourth cup on the south-side of the stone. When I first saw photos of this, I thought it was either a modern one or just another of Nature’s carved handiwork; but when we visited it recently our opinions changed.
There’s a rock a short distance east of here with a single cup-mark on it—but it’s not really worth looking at and might not even be the real deal.
References:
Boughey, K.J.S. & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks of Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Acknowledgements: Big thanks for help and assistance on our day’s venture to Graeme Chappell and Tom Cleland.
