Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 3190 3339
Also Known as:
St Bryde’s Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1858 map
Two hundred years ago, located halfway between Traquair’s present parish church and that of the demolished (apparently) 12th century church of St. Bride to the southwest, were the flowing waters of this once sacred water source. But it’s long since been destroyed. It was drained sometime prior to when the Ordnance Survey lads came here in 1856 and its water taken to supply the nearby manse. Subsequent surveys by the Royal Commission (1967) and Mr & Mrs Morris (1982) affirmed its demise. It was listed in the early Scottish holy well surveys, without comment, and I can find no local history accounts of the place.
References:
Hallen, A.W. Cornelius, “Holy Wells in Scotland,” in The Scottish Antiquary, volume 9, 1895.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 2, Aberdeen University Press 1967.
Walker, J. Russel, “‘Holy Wells’ in Scotland,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, volume 17,, 1883.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Cup-Marked Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – NT 3202 3347
Archaeology & History
In 1974, Ordnance Survey reported the existence of “a large piece of sandstone containing two depressions resembling cup marks” in the churchyard wall which, tradition told, originally came from the ruined 12th century parish church (long gone) more than 300 yards to the southwest (at NT 3185 3328). However, in recent years the cup-marks seem to have disappeared and may be hiding behind the overgrowth of ivy in the boundary wall. It needs to be recovered.
Halfway between the location of the original church and the present one, waters from the heathen St Bryde’s Well used to flow, but it had already been drained by 1856.
Various ways to get here. From Peebles take the A72 road west to Kirkurd, but after 4 miles turn left onto B712. Several miles down, go past Stobo village and before crossing the bridge over the River Tweed, turn left up minor road leading to Dreva and Broughton. The track into Altarstone Farm is about a mile along and the stone is across the road from there. The other way is going south along the A701 from Broughton village, where you take the left turn towards Stobo. Go along here for just over 3 miles where you reach the woodland (park here where the small track goes into the woods). A coupla hundred yards further along is Altar Stone Farm on your right and the stone is above the verge on your left.
Archaeology & History
Altar Stone, Stobo
Archaeologically speaking, there’s nowt much to say about this site apart from the usual tedium of its measurements and the rock-type. I’ll give the latter a miss, but the stone stands at nearly five feet high and nearly as broad; with its upper face relatively smooth and the top of it pretty flat. A section from the top of this stone was cut and sliced off a few centuries ago and this was said to have been taken to Stobo church a few miles away, where it was fashioned into a stone font for baptisms. If this is true, then it’s possible that this was once an authentic prehistoric standing stone, but we’ll probably never know for certain. Also on top of the stone you can see a number of geophysical scratches, one of which looks as if it may have been worked by human hands and which has some relevance to the folklore of the stone.
It is shown on the 1859 OS-map of the area and was mentioned in the Ordnance Name Book where they told how it was “supposed to have formed the Altar of a druids Temple or some such object,” but they could find no local verification of such lore at the time of their visit… or at least, no one was telling them anything about it…
Folklore
This fascinating bit of rock—or possible sliced standing stone—is of note due to its association with that old shaman of shamans known as Merlin! Near the end of His days, when He’d truly retired from the world of men and wandered, they say, mad amidst the great lowland forests, an old christian dood by the name of Kentigern—later known as St Mungo—who’d been trying to convert our old magickian away from the animistic ways of Nature. Legend says that He succeeded. The old Scottish traveller Ratcliffe Barnett (1925) wrote:
“Merlin is the real genius of Drumelzier. Dumelzier means the Ridge of Meldred, a pagan prince of the district. And it was Meldred’s shepherds that slew Merlin the bard. The heathen bard was present at the battle of Arthuret in the year 573, when the christian army gained a victory over the Heathen Host. Merlin fled to the forest of Caledon at Drumelzier and there ever after the old Druid spent his life among the wild hills with a repute for insanity. This poet priest was doubtless heart-broken at the defeat of his pagan friends. The old order was changing. But the christian king had brought his friend, St Kentigern or Munro, to preach the gospel in upper Tweedside at Stobo. One day Kentigern met a weird-looking man and demanded who he was. “Once I was the prophet of Vortigern (Gwendollen). My name is Merlin. Now I am in these solitudes enduring many privations.”
“So Kentigern preached the gospel to the old nature worshipper and won him to Christ. Up yonder, at the east end of the Dreva road, you will find the rude Altar Stone where, it is said, Kentigern received the Druid into the christian church and dispensed the sacrament. But in those dark days of the faith, the Druids and their pagan adherents fought hard against the new religion. So immediately after the admission of Merlin to the Church, the shepherds of Meldred sought him out, stoned him to death on the haugh of Drumelzier, and there, where the Powsail Burn falls quietly into Tweed, Merlin the Martyr was buried. For long his grave was marked by a hawthorn tree.”
These shepherds were said to have stoned him and then threw his body upon a sharp stake and then into the stream. (stone – wood – water)
If there is any hint of truth in this tale, it is unlikely Merlin would have given himself over to the christian ways unless—as any shaman would—he knew of his impending death. In which case it would have done him no harm to pretend a final allegiance to the unnatural spirituality that was growing in the land. But whatever he may have been thinking, it is said that this Altar Stone was where he made such a deed.
Scratch-marks of the mythic hareAltar Stone, Stobo
An equally peculiar legend—variations of which are found at a number of places in the hills of northern England and Scotland—speaks of another shamanic motif, i.e., of humans changing into animals and back. For here, legend tells, an old witch was being chased (by whom, we know not) across the land. She’d turned herself into the form of a hare and, as she crossed over the Altar Stone, her claws dug so deeply into the rock that they left deep scars that can still be seen to this day. From here, the hare scampered at speed downhill until reaching the River Tweed at the bottom, whereupon transforming itself back into the form of the witch, who promptly fled into the hills above on the far side of the river.
One final thing mentioned by Barnett (1943) was the potential oracular property of the Altar Stone:
“You have to only place your hand on top of this rude altar, shut your eyes, and if you have the gift you will see visions.”
References:
Ardrey, Adam, Finding Merlin, Mainstream 2012.
Barnett, Ratcliffe, Border By-Ways and Lothian Lore, John Grant: Edinburgh 1925.
Buchan, J.W. & Paton, H., A History of Peeblesshire – volume 3, Glasgow 1927.
Crichton, Robin, On the Trail of Merlin in a Dark Age, R. Crichton 2017.
Glennie, John Stuart, Arthurian Localities, Edmonston & Douglas: Edinburgh 1869.
Moffat, Alistair, Arthur and the Lost Kingdoms, Phoenix: London 1999.
Rich, Deike & Begg, Ean, On the Trail of Merlin, Aquarian: London 1991.
Wheatley, Henry B., Merlin, or, The Early History of King Arthur – 2 volumes, Trubner: London 1865.
Acknowledgements: Big thanks for use of the 1st edition OS-map in this site profile, Reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 2523 4045
Archaeology & History
St Mungo’s Well, 1858 map
Highlighted on the 1858 OS-map, two-thirds the way up the High Street, this long forgotten sacred well was described by the Ordnance Survey lads in their Name Book (1856) as “an excellent spring”—and no doubt an ever-flowing one, even in the greatest of droughts. But it had already been destroyed when they came here. It was mentioned in passing by William Chambers’ (1856), who described it as a “public fountain” dedicated to old Mungo, a.k.a. St Kentigern. But its position in the High Street wasn’t where it originally emerged. Local tradition told it was once on the slopes of Venlaw immediately north of the town, possibly making it into the folklore category of “Wells that Move”—usually because the spirit of the place has been offended.
But in truth, little is known about its mythic history. Its origin seems, as with so many ancient sites, entangled in what Dr Gunn (1908) in his definitive work on the history of Peebles church explained, the heathen “superstitious regard for fountains”, pre-dating the christian dedications. St Mungo himself, said Gunn,
“is remembered in Peebles to-day by his holy well upon the slopes of Venlaw, hallowed by its use in the Sacrament of Baptism.”
It’s profane history tells simply that, in 1728, its waters were piped into the trough on High Street for public use. It became damaged sometime in the early 19th century, but some remains of the stonework were found when roadworks were done here in 1845. It would be good if we could recover further information about this important holy well.
References:
Chambers, William, A History of Peeblesshire, W. & R. Chambers: Edinburgh 1864.
Cist (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 2601 5074
Archaeology & History
Cist site on 1906 OS map
It seems that very little is known about this site, long since gone when quarrying operations did what quarrying operations do. The site was recorded by the Ordnance Survey lads on their 1908 map of the region, on which they noted: “Stone coffin containing human remains found AD 1905.” The Royal Commission boys visited the site in April 1962 and reported that “nothing now survives.” They listed it in their inventory as a prehistoric cist, or small stone-lined burial chest. Such remains tend to be either neolithic or Bronze Age in nature.
References:
Royal Commission Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, HMSO: Edinburgh 1967.
Take the long long A701 road betwixt Moffat and Penicuik, and in the middle, somewhere, keeps your eyes attentive to the Tweedsmuir hamlet, across the small bridge almost lost in the expanse of old hills. Once over the bridge, park up by the edge of the forest. Walk along the small road that follows the riverside – and after a few hundred yards you’ll see, either side of the small road, three stones. Our “giant” is the tallest of the smallests here, right by forestside.
Archaeology & History
Giant’s Stone & Grave on 1865 OS-map
Hiding away in the Back-of-Beyond, amidst a small cluster of other small megalithic remains, sleeps this quiet standing stone and its companions – three of them altogether, almost lost to anyone but old locals, whose tongues have sadly all but died. Very little has been written about the place in any archaeology tomes and the earliest mention of the site seems to have been in the Second Statistical Account of 1845, when the surveyors told:
“Close by the road leading from the church to Menzion House, there are the remains of a Druidical temple or Pictish court of justice. Only one stone is left of a number similar in appearance and size which stood together, and which have been removed for the purpose of dike-building, &c. It is called the Standing Stone, and is five feet above the surface of the earth.”
Stone 2, across the road
More than a century later, the Royal Commission (1967) lads got round to checking the place out, but there seems to be some slight confusion as to what they recorded and the situation as it stands today. The present Royal Commission lads reports the existence of what they call the Menzion Stones: quite separate standing stones—although ‘fallen’—just a short distance from the Giant’s Stone (Canmore ID 48561), citing them as described in the Peeblesshire (1967) survey which, oddly, neither includes nor names the Giant’s Stone which is only yards away. It seems safe to assume that the respective Royal Commission inspectors have made erroneous judgements here, brought about due to the repositioning of the original Giant’s Stone when the Forestry Commission afflicted the place and, it seems, damaged the site. It’s difficult to say with any certainty—but there are definitely some official errors in the description of this site. Anyway, if we assume that the ‘Menzion’ standing stones in the Peeblesshire Inventory were actually the Giant’s Stone and its companions, this is how they reported it following a visit here in 1956:
“A quarter of a mile NE of Menzion farmhouse, the road to Tweedsmuir passes between two standing stones. The more northerly stone, situated 10 yds W of the roadway measures about 2 ft. 3 in square at ground level and stands to a height of 2 ft 6 in. The other stone is 25 yds SE of the first and 12 yds E of the roadway. It, too, is almost square on plan, measuring about 2 ft 2 in along each side at ground level, and stands to a height of 2 ft.”
Even more peculiar is that today we have three standing stones at this spot! Like those at Perthshire’s Tigh nam Bodach, perhaps the metamorphosized spirit of the site is reproducing!
Folklore
In the very same Second Statistical Account (1845) was recounted the folklore of the largest stone, which had obviously been told them by local folk. Twas said that,
“From behind it, a person of diminutive stature, known by the name of Little John, discharged an arrow at the head of a freebooter of formidable dimension who greatly annoyed the peaceful inhabitants, and who, though on the opposite side of the Tweed, was unable to elude the deadly stroke.”
Folklorists Janet & Colin Bord narrated a variation on the above story, telling that,
“This stone and the two nearby mark the place where Jack the Giant Killer despatched his last victim. Jack hid behind the Giant’s Stone to shoot, but unfortunately the mortally wounded giant managed to get a punch in and Jack was himself killed. The stone now acts as his gravestone.”
All three stones together
Invariably, references to “giants” in folklore—be it in mountains or standing stones—indicates early Creation Myth stories that tell about the origin of the given site. In the case of this standing stone and its companions, and the related Giant’s Grave tomb 320 yards WNW across the River Tweed, it would seem to indicate a folk memory of the hero-figure or giant who was buried here thousands of years ago, and whose spirit inhabits the stone. This motif is widespread and very archaic.
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Atlas of Magical Britain, Sidgwick & Jackson: London 1990.
Eliade, Mircea, A History of Religious Ideas – volume 1, University of Chicago Press 1978.
Johnson, Walter, Folk Memory, Oxford University Press 1908.
Maclagan, David, Creation Myths, Thames & Hudson: London 1977.
Roberts, Anthony, Sowers of Thunder, Rider: London 1978.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, Aberdeen University Press 1967.
Marked on the 1865 OS-map as a “tumulus”, it was destroyed by some idiot in 1818 due to some basic lacking; but we can see from the old map how close it was to the Giant’s Stone on the south-side of the River Tweed, to which it may have had an archaeological connection with. When it was destroyed, the New Statistical Account in 1845 described there being a six-foot long stone coffin (cist) beneath the tumulus, containing the usual burial urn.
Folklore
When the 18th century writer Alexander Pennecuik (1715) wrote about this old tomb, he narrated the tradition of the site as told him by the local people, telling:
“….upon the head of a burn on the south side of Tweed, stands the old-house of Hawkshaw, belonging (to) Porteous, from a numerous race of Ancestor’s Chiefs of that surname. Over against the foot of Hawkshaw-Burn in a Kairn beside the High road is the Giants Grave, so called from a huge and mighty Fellow, that robbed all on the way, but was at length from a Mount in the over side of the River supprised and shor to Death as Tradition goes.”
This supposedly 10-12th century carving — found in the early 1940s and handed to the Scottish National Museum in Edinburgh by Mr A. Sanderson — took my interest by virtue of the distinct swastika design carved on the face of the stone.* The fact that it’s etched onto what’s thought to be the remains of an old christian cross shouldn’t be too surprising: we find it on numerous other old stone crosses, church bells and other religious remains.
This example was only carved on one side of the stone, which measures some 18-inches high and just 9 inches across. The top of the stone has a design typical of many early crosses from between the 9th to 14th century; whilst the curvaceous line on the lower-right also typifies imagery found on many crosses from this period — some of which appear to be based on cup-and-ring imagery. However, no such cup-and-rings seem to have been in evidence where this cross-remain was found. Very little else is known about its history.
Although it aint quite as old as Ilkley’s Swastika Stone, this is still a fascinating carved stone indeed!
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, HMSO: Edinburgh 1967.
Stevenson, Robert B.K., ‘The Inchyra Stone and some other Unpublished Early Christian Monuments’, in PSAS 92, 1961.
* To those who don’t know, the swastika symbol has been used by people from around 20,000 BC onwards and has only very recently gained a bad press. It’s a symbol that needs to be reclaimed, through education, and put back into its proper mythic place where it belongs – away from any Nazi dip-shits, whose retarded actions pale into insignificance when it comes to the primal archaic nature of this old form.
