To get here, take the same direction as to reach the Bleara Lowe tumulus, stopping a short distance away when you reach the large heap just by the walling where the moorland levels out. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
Bleara Moor tumulus
Found on the top of the slope above the Bleara Moor Cairnfield, this is quite a large burial mound that seems to have been forgotten on the small moorland heights above Earby and Lothersdale. No archaeological excavation has been done here and there seem to be no accounts of any finds in local antiquarian records. When we visited the place it was very overgrown and covered in heather, but it stood out in the open landscape. Slightly larger than its more famous companion to the east, this tomb stands three- to four-feet high on average, with a diameter of around 25 yards on its longest northeast/southwest axis. Consistent in structure with the larger cairns on Burley Moor like the Little Skirtful, this tomb was probably built in the Bronze Age. It also seems that a lot of stone has been robbed from this cairn for use in the local walling. The site was given a minimal description on the Pastscape website, where it was described as:
“Round cairn 230m W of Bleara Howe (sic). Scheduled RSM No 23718. A partly mutilated slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.2m high with max dimensions of 23m NNE-SSW x 21m WNW-ESE.”
The views from here are considerable and this probably had some relevance when it was first built, but I’m not aware if an assessment of this aspect of the site has been made. More information about the Bleara Moor tumulus (and its companions!) would be hugely appreciated!
There’s no footpath to this site, but we came to it via the car park on Coolham Lane on the southeast side of Earby. Walking uphill, we got over the wooden stile on the moorside and walked up the side of the walling, all the way upwards till we reached the top of the moor. You’ll pass the large Bleara Moor tumulus just by the walling, then head towards the rounded hillock on the top of the moor a coupla hundred yards away. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
As with many sites in this area, very little has been said of this usually overgrown Bronze Age burial mound. Although no known recorded excavation of the tomb has ever been done, someone dug into the top of the mound in the 1960s, but we have no record of any finds. The tomb stands on the local boundary line between Earby and Lothersdale to the east and was known as ‘Bleara Haugh’ in the 1819 Enclosure Act. But little else has ever been said of it.
Bleara LoweOS-map of site
When we visited the place a few months ago, we were fortunate in that the heather had been burnt back, so allowing a much better view of the site than normally afforded when it’s covered in heather. The rounded mound was between 4 and 5 feet high and measured approximately 20 yards across. The pit which had been dug into the top of the mound was still visible, though much overgrown. The view from the tomb itself was very impressive — which would have been of some importance in the construction of the place. The Pastscape website describes Bleara Lowe as:
“A slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.4m high with max dimensions of 21m E-W x 19m N-S. There is a rectangular hollow 3m x 1.5m x 0.4m deep on the cairn’s summit.”
Another larger tumulus or overgrown cairn can be found over 200 yards west of here; plus a number of small singular prehistoric cairns have been located further down the western slope of the moor, known as the Bleara Moor Cairnfield. None of these sites have ever been excavated.
If you wanna drive here, be prepared for a long uphill winding haul, with very poor turning, single-track roads and no parking spots. It’s dodgy as hell! But, if y’ must – from the central roundabout in Todmorden, take the road diagonally across as if you’re going to the train station, and barely 50 yards up, take the right turn under the railways arches, bearing sharp left, then up the very steep zigzagging dangerous road for a mile or so. You’ll eventually reach Stones Lane on your left. Go down this, nearly to the end, slowly – and keep your eyes peeled until you see the big one! You can’t miss it! If you want walk up (a much safer, healthier and preferable route), take the Calderdale Way route up past Dobroyd Castle, and where you get to the top of the hill and the fields open up ahead of you, look down the slope into the field for one stone, and up past the shrubs to Centre Hill. You can’t miss them!
Archaeology & History
Three ‘stones’ on 1911 map
This is a quite extraordinary sight to those who visit here for the first time. Moreso because, until very recently, the place was excluded from all text-books and surveys. But if you like your megaliths, this place is well worth the trek up the hill. You’ll be amazed! The tallest and largest of these giant monoliths was recorded when a team from Ordnance Survey mapped the area in 1844, but gave no antiquated note to it. When another Ordnance Survey team re-surveyed the area again in 1911, they noted two other ‘stones’ three fields away to the northeast. More than a decade later, the industrialist historian Abraham Newall (1925) described them at some length in his fine work on the region.
Stone 1, looking NWStone 2, at top of hillock (soz about the crap picture)
The first thing generally noticed is the 12-foot tall standing stone near the bottom of the field (stone 1). Then you’ll see the curiously-worked thin standing stone, nearly as tall, on the hillock at the top of the same field (stone 2). This stone has been surmounted onto an old millstone and the hillock itself was once an old beacon hill. Then on the other side of the road a few hundred yards along, another stone just over 4-feet tall can be seen (stone 3); and in the same field is another one laid down at the side of a well (stone 4). This stone used to stand just where the water appears. It’s seems probable that other standing stones may once have been in close attendance, but have been destroyed over time.
Stone 3, looking southStone 3, looking west
Stone 1 is hemmed in at the base by several stones, giving the impression that it was resurrected at some time in the recent past. Several local stories attest to this. Stone 2 was once further down in the same field but was moved to its present position in the 19th century and was, it is alleged, moved there to commemorate the Battle of Waterloo. Several local historians contest this. Stone 3 has nothing said of it; apart from by the local farmer who said it once had a companion (as illustrated on the early map, above). We were told that this companion (stone 4) was uprooted and a spring of water appeared where it stood, so they laid it down in the position it still occupies, just by the spring 10 yards into the field.
If you’re into megaliths and live in Yorkshire or Lancashire, check these beauties out! Just respect the local farmer – he’s not into ignorant tourists clambering over walls. (don’t say you’ve not been warned!)
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Newell, Abraham, A Hillside View of Industrial History, J. Bentley: Todmorden 1925.
Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – TA 040 587
Archaeology & History
Information on this stone is sparse and the grid-reference cited is a close approximation of its precise location. And were it not for the records of Victorian folklorists, its existence may have been completely lost. The first reference I’ve found of it is in Nicholson’s East Yorkshire (1890) survey, but I am hoping that someone, somewhere, made archaeological notes of the site (am I hoping for too much here…?) The stone appears to have stood upon, or was very close to, the local boundary line between Nafferton and Driffield—which means there could be a record of it in any perambulation accounts of the region.
Folklore
John Nicholson (1890) told us the following intriguing bitta folklore about this stone, saying:
“About half way down the hill forming the eastern slope of Nafferton Slack, by the roadside, to prevent waggons leaving the roadway, stood a large stone, which was believed to have wonderful powers. At night, at certain seasons, it glowed like fire, sometimes it seemed but the portal of a well-lighted hall; and one old stone-breaker declared he had heard wonderful music issuing therefrom, the like of which he had never heard before; while on one occasion he had seen troops of gaily-dressed elfins repairing thither, some on foot and some on carriages, and they all went into this mysterious hall. The old man is dead, the stone is gone, and the fairies have departed.”
Some twenty years later, Mrs Gutch repeated the story, but added no further details. One wonders whether the information about a fairy hall implied the former existence of a mound or tumulus next to the old stone (a few hundred yards south, just off the same boundary line, we find the remains of the curiously named tumulus of Cheesecake Hill). Any further info would be most welcome…
References:
Gutch, Mrs E., Examples of Printed Folk-lore Concerning the East Riding of Yorkshire, David Nutt: London 1912.
Nicholson, Folk-lore of East Yorkshire, Simpkin Marshall: London 1890.
Various ways to get here. Probably the easiest is via the golf course itself, walking up towards the top where the trees reach the hills, but keeping your eyes peeled for the large archetypal tumulus or fairy mound near the top of the slope. Alternatively, come up through the wooded slopes from Bridge of Allan and onto the golf course, keeping your eyes ready for the self same mound sat in the corner by the walls. You can’t really miss it to be honest!
Archaeology & History
This is an impressive-looking burial mound sat, intact, on the edge of those painful golf courses that keep growing over our landscape — and you can see for miles from here! It would seem to have been placed with quite deliberate views across the landscape, reaching for countless miles into the Grampian mountains north and west across the moors of Gargunnock and Flanders towards Lomond and beyond…
Fairy Knowe, facing westSir Armstrong’s old drawing
The Fairy Knowe was first excavated in 1868 by Sir J.E. Alexander and his team, when their measurements found it to be some 80 yards in circumference, 78 feet across and 21 feet high — compared to less than 60 feet across and only 8 feet tall today. The findings were recorded in one of the early PSAS reports, and more recently a synopsis of the account was made of it by the Royal Commission (1963) lads who summarized his early findings and told:
“The excavation revealed a cist in the centre of the cairn, laid on the original surface of the ground and measuring 2ft 6in in length, 1ft 6in in breadth and 3ft in depth. Its walls were formed partly of upright slabs and partly of small stones laid horizontally, while the floor and the roof each consisted of a single slab. Within it there was a deposit, 6in in depth, of black earth, charcoal and fragments of human bone among which pieces of a skull were conspicuous. The cist was covered by a heap of large stones, 8ft in diameter and 13ft in height, and this in turn was covered with earth, in which there were charcoal, blackened stones, fragments of human and animal bones and unctuous black earth. Among these remains were found six flint arrowheads, a fragment of what was once thought to be a stone spear-head, and a piece of pine which, it was suggested, might have formed part of a spear-shaft.”
Also, near the top of the cairn in the fairy mound, Sir Alexander’s team located a prehistoric beaker vessel and fragments of what they thought were other beakers pots. Archaeologist Richard Feachem (1977) also mentioned this site in his gazetteer, simply copying the words of previous researchers.
Other prehistoric cairns can be found nearby: one in Cuparlaw Woods less a mile north; plus the Pendreich cairns on the edge of the moors just over 1 mile to the northeast.
Folklore
Obviously an abode of the faerie folk in bygone times, the tales of the place are sadly fading from local memory… Mr Alexander (1868) thought this place may have been an important site for the Pictish folk, and he may well have been correct, as the legendary hill of Dumyat (correctly known as Dun Myat) 2 miles east of here has long been regarded as an outpost of one Pictish tribe.
The main piece of folklore attached to this place relates to its very name and how it came about. In R.M. Menzies (1912) rare work on the folklore of the Ochils, he narrates the local tale that used to be spoken, which describes a procession here from the Fairy Well, just over a mile to the east. Whether this folktale relates to some long lost actual procession between the two sites, we don’t know for sure. Mr Menzies told:
“Once upon a time, when people took life more leisurely, and when the wee folk frequented the glens and hills of Scotland, there was one little fairy whose duty it was to look after certain wells renowned for their curative properties. This fairy was called Blue Jacket, and his favourite haunt was the Fairy Well on the Sheriffmuir Road, where the water was so pure and cool that nobody could pass along without taking a drink of the magic spring. A draught of this water would have such a refreshing effect that the drinker could go on his journey without feeling either thirsty or hungry. Many travellers who had refreshed themselves at the Fairy Well would bless the good little man who kept guard over its purity, and proceed upon their way dreaming of pleasant things all the day long.
“One warm day in June, a Highland drover from the Braes of Rannoch came along with a drove of Highland cattle, which he was taking to Falkirk Tryst, and feeling tired and thirsty he stopped at the Fairy Well, took a good drink of its limpid water, and sat down beside it to rest, while his cattle browsed nearby. The heat was very overpowering, and he fell into a dreamy sleep.
“As he lay enjoying his noonday siesta, Blue Jacket stepped out from among the brackens and approaching the wearied drover, asked him whence he came. The drover said:
“‘I come from the Highland hills beside the Moor of Rannoch; but I have never seen such a wee man as you before. Wha’ may you be?’
“‘Oh,’ said the fairy, ‘I am Blue Jacket, one of the wee folk!’
“‘Ay, ay man, ye have got a blue jacket, right enough; but I’ve never met ony o’ your kind before. Do ye bide here?’
“‘Sometimes; but I am the guardian of the spring from which you have just been drinking.’
“‘Weel, a’ I can say is that it is grand water; there is no’ the likes o’t frae this to Rannoch.’
“‘What’s your name?’ asked the fairy.
“‘They ca’ me Sandy Sinclair, the Piper o’ Rannoch,’ was the reply.
“‘Have you got your pipes?’ asked Blue Jacket.
“‘Aye, my mannie, here they are. Wad ye like a tune? Ye see there’s no’ a piper like me in a’ Perthshire.’
“‘Play away then,’ said Blue Jacket.
“Sandy Sinclair took up his pipes and, blowing up the bag, played a merry Highland reel. When he finished, he was greatly surprised to see above the well a crowd of little folk, like Blue Jacket, dancing to the music he had been playing. As he stopped they clapped their little hands and exclaimed, ‘Well done Sandy! You’re the piper we need.’
“Thereupon Blue Jacket blew a silver whistle, which he took from his belt, and all the wee folk formed themselves into a double row. Blue Jacket then took the Highland piper by the hand, led him to the front of the procession, and told him to play a march. Sandy felt himself unable to resist the command of the fairy, and, putting the chanter into his mouth, blew his hardest and played his best, marching at the head of the long line of little people, who tripped along, keeping time to the strains of the bagpipes. Blue Jacket walked in front of the piper, leading the way in the direction of the Fairy Knowe.
“Sandy Sinclair never marched so proudly as he did that day, and the road, though fairly long, seemed to be no distance at all; the music of the pibroch fired his blood and made him feel as if he was leading his clansmen to battle. When the Fairy Knowe was reached, the wee folk formed themselves into a circle round the little hill, and sang a song the sweetest that ever fell upon the ears of the Highlandman. Blue Jacket once more took his whistle and, blowing three times upon it, held up his hand, and immediately the side of the knoll opened. Bidding the piper to play on, Blue Jacket led the procession into the interior; and when all were inside, the fairies formed themselves into sets, and the piper playing a strathspey, they began dancing with might and main.
“One dance succeeded another, and still Sandy played on, the wee folk tripping it as merrily as ever. All thoughts of Sandy’s drove had gone quite out of his head, and all he thought of now was how best to keep the fairies dancing: he had never seen such nimble dancers, and every motion was so graceful and becoming as made him play his very best to keep the fun going. Sandy Sinclair was in Fairyland, and every other consideration was forgotten.
“Meanwhile his cattle and sheep were following their own sweet will, the only guardian left to take care of them being his collie dog. This faithful animal kept watch as well as he could, and wondered what had become of his master. Towards evening another drover came along with his cattle for the same tryst. He knew the dog at once, and began to pet the animal, saying at the same time, ‘Where’s your master, Oscar? What’s become o’ Sandy?’
“All the dog would do was to wag his bushy tail, and look up with a pleading air, as if to say, ‘I don’t know; will you not find him?’
“‘My puir wee doggie, I wonder what’s come over Sandy? It’s no like him to leave his cattle stravaiging by the roadside. Ay ay man; and at the Fairy Well too! Indeed, this looks unco bad.’
“The newcomer, who was also a Highlander, made up his mind to spend the night with his own drove and that of Sandy Sinclair, thinking that the missing man would turn up in the morning. But when the morning came there was no sign of Sandy.
“Taking Sandy’s collie and leaving his own dog in charge of the combined droves, he said, ‘Find master, Oscar!’ The wise beast sniffed around for a little and then trotted off in the direction taken the day before by Sandy Sinclair and the fairies. By and by they reached the Fairy Knowe; but there was nobody there as far as the drover could see. The dog ran round and round the knoll, barking vigorously all the time, and looking up into the face of the drover as if to say, ‘This is where he is; this is where he is.’ The drover examined every bit of the Fairy Knowe, but there was no trace of Sandy Sinclair. As the drover sat upon the top of the Fairy Knowe, wondering what he should do next, he seemed to hear the sound of distant music. Telling the faithful dog to keep quiet, he listened attentively, and by-and-by made out the sound of the pibroch; but whether it was at a long distance or not, he could not be certain. In the meantime, the dog began to scrape at the side of the mound and whimper in a plaintive manner. Noticing this, the drover put his ear to the ground and listened. There could be no mistake this time: the music of the pibroch came from the centre of the Fairy Knowe.
“‘Bless my soul!’ exclaimed Sandy’s friend. ‘He’s been enticed by the fairies to pipe at their dances. We’ll ne’er see Sandy Sinclair again.’
“It was as true as he said. The Piper of Rannoch never returned to the friends he knew, and the lads and lasses had to get another piper to play their dance music when they wished to spend a happy evening by the shore of the loch. Long, long afterwards, the passers-by often heard the sound of pipe music, muffled and far away, coming from the Fairy Knowe; but the hidden piper was never seen. When long absent friends returned to Rannoch and enquired about Sandy Sinclair, they were told that he had gone to be piper to the wee folk and had never come home again.”
There is some confusion as to whether this mound of earth, barely four feet high but some 50 feet across, is actually prehistoric. But the folklore has that common ring to it, found at olde sites from Cornwall to northern Scotland, speaking of old tombs and ancient ways…
Folklore
In modern times apparently, earthlights have been reported flitting about around this earthen ridge, but the old mound has older, more familiar tales spoken of it. In Rev. Williams’ (1901) article on the folklore of Stirlingshire, he made a considerable detour to tell of some old faerie-lore he’d heard when he was younger, from the prehistoric tomb on the northern side of Elphillock, a few miles south of Kildrummy. In talking with some of the local people about old beliefs, one local man told him:
“The fairies of my native parish made their abode in a round knoll, known as Elfhillock. My friend, James Smith, now no more, was ploughman at Cairncoullie, in the neighbourhood. Passing the hillock one evening, he heard the sound of music and dancing. James drew near to the spot and saw the revels. He waited and enjoyed himself for a short space and then returned to Cairncoullie and went to bed. He found to his amazement that he had been away a year and a day! Every field on the farm and the new ploughmen bore evidence to the fact; and Jamie believed till his dying day that he was a year older than he was aware of, and all because he had given heed to matters he had no business with.”
Not only were the little people said to live within this small tomb, but the hillock must also be cared for and never damaged. Rev. Williams also narrated that the grandfather of the same local man told him that he had,
“pulled some heather from this elf hillock. He was compelled by the women to replace it, otherwise he would have to encounter the wrath of the fairies.”
Thankfully the old hillock is still here, just off the roadside. Not far from here are a number of other prehistoric sites with faerie and ghost-lore and mythological place-names, long since fallen into memories old…soon to be lost perhaps…
References:
Williams, George, “Local Superstitions,” in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society, 1901.
Get up to the Aiggin Stone and turn your back to Robin Hood’s Bed and Blackstone Edge, facing (roughly) north. There’s a small path just to the left of the Aiggin Stone, running northwest (don’t take the more pronounced footpath on its right, or you’ll get a bit lost). Walk down this path for about 60-70 yards and you can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
Initially I thought this was the stone described in James Maxim’s (1965) exploratory study of the ancient route of the Long Causeway, not far from the Aiggin Stone, running up between Littleborough and Sowerby Bridge, across the Yorkshire border — but I quickly realised my error! Maxim’s upright was one of the boundary markers and is a good 100 yards away from this little fella, seemingly divorced from history. But he’s a curiosity that could do with an explanation…
Standing Stone; and Robin Hood’s Bed on horizon
The stone is less than a metre tall but appears to have had been a little taller in earlier days, having the top of it knocked off — either accidentally or otherwise (someone suggested that the small stone on the ground by its side was once the top of the stone). It stands just a yard to the side of an old causeway running from the disused quarries a few hundred yards away, up to the Aiggin Stone. It may have been an old wayside marker stone. It’s certainly old and nobody seems to have said owt about it, so I thought that I’d highlight it here. Any further info on the little fella’s history would be most welcome!
In the heathlands above here we found remains of old walling in the edge of the ancient peat, some of it cutting through into view and some of it still beneath the surface. There wasn’t much of it (though we weren’t here for long), but it looked familiar and old… How old is hard to say at the moment. Who built them? How much more can be found nearby? Were they part of the quarrying operations, or destroyed by them? Anyone know owt more?
References:
Maxim, James L., A Lancashire Lion, J.L. Maxim Trustees: Leeds 1965.
Settlement (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NS 086 635
Archaeology & History
Pottery remnants
Somewhere beneath the modern cemetery and adjacent factory close to St. Mary’s church on the southern outskirts of Rothesay, right by the roadside, was once an important prehistoric settlement. All remains of the site however, have long since been destroyed. An axe that was found here was held in the local museum. There are several scattered accounts of the place, one of which was written by J.G. Scott (1968), who reported that,
“between 1914 and 1929, a series of finds — pottery, a polished stone axehead, a saddle quern, hearths and remains of shallow trenches — was made at Townhead…at a now disused gravel pit. Excavations in 1929 revealed several slots in the original gravel surface, which suggested the remains of sleeper beams for wooden buildings. All the pottery recovered was neolithic… Amongst it were sherds of two vessels of Rinyo-Clacton ware. Most of the rest of the pottery…showed well-developed rims, often thickened and bevelled externally and sometimes everted. This pottery recalls the Abingdon style of southern Britain, and has been termed Rothesay ware by the writer.
“Sherd from one of these Rothesay vessels were associated with charcoal, possibly from a hearth, with hazel-nut shells and small fragments of bone.”
Scott told that radiocarbon analysis dated the finds at around 2120 BC. A couple of hundred yards away are the enclosed remains of St. Mary’s Holy Well, whose waters may well have been of magickal repute all those centuries ago…
References:
Scott, J.G., “A Radiocarbon Date for a West Scottish Neolithic Settlement,” in Antiquity journal, volume 42, no.168, December 1968.
The Hades hill cairn/barrow is located high on the moors some 3 miles north-east of Whitworth and the smaller village of Facit, near Rochdale. Its exact location is close to a footpath halfway between Hades hill and Rough hill, though it is not mentioned on modern OS maps. It is quite difficult to get to so be ready for a long hard walk.
Archaeology & History
This small, low barrow or cairn — a couple of miles north of the little-known Man Stone — measures 15 metres north to south, 13 metres east to west and is 0.9 metres high (about 3 feet in height). But not a great deal can be seen today.
It was excavated in 1898 when a number of artefacts were discovered near the centre of the barrow. The most famous of these ancient artefacts was a Celtic two-tiered urn (of the Pennine type) which had rope imprints and chevrons; inside this urn were the burnt bones of a female, flints, a scraper and a fine pointed borer. Other stuff that came out of the barrow included animal bones, charcoal, flint implements and an arrow head. The urn was placed in the hands of The March Collection at The Rochdale Free Library (now known as Touchstones). A more recent excavation was carried out in 1982 but nothing was recorded at this time. In Dr Whitaker’s History of Whalley, he described there being “the remains of a large beacon, with the foundations of a large circular enclosure” on Hades Hill.
Takes a bitta finding this one! Take the B6265 road north out of Skipton, and about a mile along, turn left up the small road to Stirton village. But once on the level and the open countryside opens to your right, where there’s a notable bend in the road and a track goes up into the field, stop! Walk up past the closed fields and, where the open country starts, veer to the left track (not up the official footpath). Keep walking up here till you’re approaching the bend in the old walling; but veer into the grasses, right, about 50 yards before it. Good luck!
Archaeology & History
Very recently, Mr Paul Hornby called us to come and check a number of features he’d come across on a portion of open countryside not far from Skipton. At the very least it was gonna be a nice day out, ambling abaat and seeing some potentially new prehistoric sites — and we weren’t to be disappointed!
Close-up of cupsSingle cup-mark nearby
Although this site aint much to write home about, it is found close to a number of other recently rediscovered prehistoric features. Upon a fairly large stone a coupla hundred yards east of a supposed tumulus to the southern ridge of Sharp Haw, we find an arc of three cup-markings on the rock’s northeastern face, with a possible fourth cup along the same line (though I aint sure misself). And that’s it I’m afraid. Nowt else. (and I’ll try getting some better images when we’re next up there) Another stone nearby to the west has a near-perfect single cup-marking on its flat surface.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
Huge thanks to Paul Hornby for the use of his photos!
