The history of the site is scanty to say the least. It first seems to have been recorded when the Ordnance Survey lads came here in the 1840s, although they left no record as to why the site was given such a dedication. It’s a decidedly pre-christian title as the name “old Wife” is usually indicative in northern counties as being related to the primal Earth deity of northern England and lowland Scotland (when we reach the Highlands and Ireland, She becomes known—amongst other names—as the cailleach). However, apart from its name we have no additional information. Neither the holy wells writer Edna Whelan (1989; 2001), nor hydrolatry researcher Graeme Chappell were been able to find anything about the place in their own researches. And so we must go on name alone…
The waters bubble up into a small stone-lined chamber with the words Nattie Fontein carved into the lintel. This is something of a mystery in itself, for, as Edna Whelan (1989) told,
“it would be most unusual for the word fonten to be used for a spring in North Yorkshire: ‘keld’ is the local word. The rather roughly inscribed word may be a corruption of Fons Natalis, the name of a Celtic water nymph.”
Graeme Chappell (2000) meanwhile, noticed in a visit to the site in June 1999,
“that the N and A in “NATTIE” are carved in such a way that the word could be read as “MATTIE FONTEIN” perhaps meaning “Mother Fountain”. This might then be another reference to the Old Wife?”
He then goes on to note how,
“the latin word ‘natalis‘ meaning ‘birth’ and its link with the roman Festival ‘Dies Natalis Sol Invictus‘ (day of the birth of the unconquered sun) which took place on the 25th December. Natalis also gave rise to the welsh word ‘Nadolig‘ – meaning Christmas.”
This Yuletide element has an intriguing relationship with the name of the well; for to the west of Yorkshire’s borders into Cumbria there was annual gathering known as Old Wives’ Saturday that took place on the first Saturday after Christmas, or first Saturday of the New Year in a person’s house or inn, where a feast was had to bring in the New Year; but there is no known written lore of such a tradition here.
Nowadays the old tradition of hanging rags on the trees surrounding the well as offerings to the spirit of the place (known as memaws in parts of Yorkshire, and clooties in Scotland) has become a regular practice of those who hold such sites as sacred in their own way. Whelan mentioned seeing memaws here in the 1908s, but the Northern Antiquarian contributor Jon Barker told that, “The rags are a comparatively recent addition to the well, it is not a tradition there. When I used to go in the ’60s therewere no rags.”
On an even more curious note: very recently (from when this profile was written), the Northern Antiquarian contributor and photographer James Elkington visited Old Wives’ Well for the first time. It was a grey overcast day and when he arrived here, there was a woman ahead of him at the head of the well. I’ll let him tell the rest of it in his own words:
The Old Wives Well, Stape (James Elkington)Old Wives Well at Stape (James Elkington)
“In front of the well was a lady dressed in what looked like a white nighty, she had her back to me. There was a candle lit nearby, and her hands were in the water moving slowly about like she was washing something. She had long dark shoulder length hair. As I was about 25 feet away I was sure she wasn’t aware of me, and I thought it would make a good photograph. I quietly put my bag on the ground and got my camera out, and looked up and…she was gone! I couldn’t have taken my eye off her for more than 5 or 6 seconds. I looked all around and there was no sign of her. Even if she had legged it through the woods I would have seen her. I think it was then that I realized that I may have had ‘an encounter’. I quickly took three pics of the Well and got the hell out of there!”
He rang me once he had regained his senses in a somewhat emotional state and recounted over and over what had just happened. Whether this was a visual manifestation of the genius loci of the we can’t say. But such encounters are not unknown at numerous sacred water sites all over the world. We can only hazard a guess that this is what he was fortunate to encounter.
Just a few hundred yards north is the old Mauley or Malo Cross, which may or may not have had some mythic relationship with our Old Wives…
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid-Reference – TA 420 150
Archaeology & History
This long lost site is one of probably many such sites on the east coast of Yorkshire and Lincolnshire that used to exist, before the great North Sea took them away. The only account I’ve found of this one is from a short article in an early copy of the Lincolnshire Notes & Queries magazine by John Cordeaux (1891), who wrote:
“The Spurn, or Spurn Point, as it is now usually called, at the mouth of the Humber, is so closely connected with Lincolnshire history that it is unnecessary to apologize for recording in Lincs. N. & Q. an interesting sepulchral relic found there. This is a rude chest or coffin, roughly hewn and squarely hollowed, probably with stone implements, from the trunk of an oak, recently exposed by the action of the sea on the beach at Kilnsea. The total length overall of the chest is 51 feet, the interior (it was much decayed and fallen when I saw it) little, if anything, over four feet. In this space the skeleton, presumably of an adult male was found doubled up. Most unfortunately the original finders (labourers) scattered the bones, which subsequently were washed away. A thigh bone alone being recovered, and this is suggestive of a man probably a little below the average height.
“From oral evidence collected in the neighbourhood, I came to the conclusion that the body must originally have been buried with the head bent forward on the chest, and the legs tucked up like a trussed fowl, the knees near the chin. No corresponding lid or covering was found on the coffin, it had been placed in an excavation in the red or chalky boulder clay, and tenacious blue clay placed on it. The locality on the coast where it was found represents the Pit Marshes — that is before “the sea gat ’em ” — their position was about one-hundred and fifty yards south of the first sea-groin on Kilnsea beach. It is not improbable that a barrow or tumulus, either of earth or piled stones, at one time covered the interment, until levelled and dispersed by the sea’s encroachments on the land. Not far from this place on the beach, a small, simple, flat-sided celt, about four inches long, was picked up. It may or may not have borne some relation to the occupant of the oak coffin. When the foundations of the enlarged Chancel of St. James’ Church, Grimsby, were dug, a similar coffin or chest was exposed, partly within and partly without the line of the north chancel wall. I remember it was conjectured at the time, from the comparatively small interior, that it had been used for the interment of a child. It is more probable, however, that it had once contained an adult packed away in the manner indicated at Kilnsea.”
A very short distance north we find the place-name of “How Hill”, which may be a record its existence, as the word how in many places round here can mean a tumulus. Seems to make sense.
The first that I read of this place was in an article of the Scottish Ecclesiastical Society journal, on the parish history of Horndean. Standing originally at the edge of the ruined remains of the old churchyard, the author W.S. Moodie (1915), told that a long lost,
“grim relic of olden days is said to have existed here till fifty years ago. This was the Witches Stone—an upright pillar with a hole in it, to which the bodies of the poor unfortunates were fastened after they had been glede, while the faggots were piled around.”
A perusal in the Royal Commission inventory (1915) of the same year told that it had been moved several miles northeast to Paxton Cottage (NT 9279 5229) in the adjacent village. It was described as being,
“about 4 feet 6 inches in height above the ground, some 2 feet in breadth, tapering towards the upper end, and about 7 inches thick. Near the top are two perforations, not quite on the same level, about 2 inches in diameter at the surface on either side, constricted towards the Centre, and about 9 inches distant from centre to centre.”
Is this old stone still in existence…?
References:
Moodie, W. Steven, “Ladykirk, or the Kirk of Steill, Berwickshire,” in Transactions of the Scottish Ecclesiological Society, 4:3, Aberdeen 1915.
Royal Commission Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the County of Berwick, HMSO: Edinburgh 1915.
Healing Well (destroyed): OS Grid reference – TQ 330 827
Also Known as:
Balsamick Well
Archaeology & History
In that typically rambling style beloved of early writers on medicinal springs, Timothy Byfield (1687) narrated the tale of uncovering this well in an almost alchemical discourse. It was located when digging out the cellar of a house near Charles Square in the 1680s. Upon investigation, the waters were found to possess a good quantity of sulphur and a small amount of iron, leading Byfield to proclaim it could cure a whole army of medical disorders, from cleaning out blockages in the alimentary canal, to treating kidney stones, scurvy, ulcers, headaches, migraines and more. If used correctly and in the right amount,
” There is,” he says, “no unwholesome glebe (concretion) or any dangerous mineral or metal (in them) that casts one unhappy ray into this healing fountain.” On the contrary, they set up ‘* such a pretty bustle or ferment in nature that makes gay a well-temper’d Healthy Body.”
In the early days when Spa Wells were in vogue, the Balsamic Well became a competitor to the nearby St Agnes le Clear Well, which is probably the reason why one doctor dissuaded the toffs of the time to avoid it!
The waters possessed a slight vinegar-esque flavour—hence the name. In John MacPherson’s (1871) work, he described it as a “chalybeate well” and despite it having that typical “bituminous scum on it, strange to say,” it yielded “a pleasant aromatic flavour.” The site has long since been covered over.
References:
Byfield, Timothy, A Short and Plain Account of the late-found Balsamick Wells at Hoxdon, London 1687.
Foord, Alfred Stanley, Springs, Streams and Spas of London: History and Association, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1910.
Hembry, Phyllis, The English Spa 1560-1815, Athlone Press: London 1990.
MacPherson, John, Our Baths and Wells, MacMillan: London 1871.
Sunderland, Septimus, Old London Spas, Baths and Wells, John Bale: London 1915.
From Kenmore go east up the steep mountain road towards Glen Quaich, or if you’re coming from Amulree, go west along the same glen. After 2½ miles (4km) up the Kenmore route (nearly 9 miles on the Amulree route) you’ll reach a small lochan on your left (you’ve got a very small parking spot a coupla hundred yards before the loch). A gate and stile past the loch takes you east along a track into the moors. More than a mile on, the track splits, but you need to keep to the left and follow the track along the wall-side for another 400 yards or so, where you’ll see a small crag of rocks 100 yards down the slope on your right. Once here, the elongated rock with a “seat” that you can sit in is the stone in question.
Archaeology & History
At first sight this stone doesn’t seem to have anything petroglyphic about it, and—as when we visited the other carvings in this Craig Hill cluster—the weather was grey and overcast, so it was difficult to discern anything at first. But as we walked round and round inspecting the Craig Hill cluster-5 carving, a glance at this adjacent stone seemed to indicate one or two cup-marks within the curious chair-like aspect of the rock, but we couldn’t initially work out whether they were simple geophysical elements or not.
Very faint cup-&-half ring near the centreClose-up of the C&R
So we poured water onto the stone in the hope that something might show up. And the more we walked round and round, bending down, looking from as many angles as possible, not only did we see what looked like several cups, but one of them had a half-ring that curved round what may or may not be a natural cupmark. You can see it pretty clearly in the attached photos. In other photos that we took, the faint cup-and-half-ring seems to plays its part in a line of three or four other cups; although in order to ascertain whether these elements are man-made or not, we could do with the help of a good geomorphologist.
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to Prof Paul Hornby for use of his photos in this site profile; and to Myrna Hurley for getting us up there. Cheers doods. 😉
Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 173 342 (approximation)
Archaeology & History
In an archaeological report by Alexander Hutcheson for the Scottish Society of Antiquaries in 1884, he described and illustrated an impressive cup-and-ring stone that was formerly built into the walls of a demolished house ¾-mile from its original position near Meikle Whitefield farm. Upon destruction of that house, the farmer of West Whitefield—a half-mile from its original position—then moved the stone it into his front garden. According to tradition, said Hutcheson, this stone
“was originally removed from a circle of stones, which had stood about half-a-mile eastward, but which have now been buried or broken up.”
Despite the local tradition, Hutcheson was some what sceptical of it, thinking that it
“seems very unlikely that such a weighty stone should have been transported for half a mile merely to serve as a foundation stone for a cottage, when the ground around was capable of supplying as many stones as would be required.”
You can see his point; but there are known circumstances where individual stones from megalithic rings have been preserved. Hence, like John Barnatt (1989) in his magnum opus who preserved the folk memory of such sites, we include it here. The tradition may well be valid. Added to this is the fact that in just a few square miles hereby we once had a large cluster of stone circles, a few of which still remain.
Refeences:
Barnatt, John, Stone Circles of Britain (2 volumes), BAR: Oxford 1989.
Cross (destroyed): OS Grid reference – SD 5152 9280
Also Known as:
Cold Stone
Market Cross
Archaeology & History
Not to be confused with the carved cross fragments held in the local church, this old town cross has long since gone. It’s existence was recorded by the great Kendal historian Cornelius Nicholson (1861), but even in his day, this “obstruction” as he called it, was no longer standing. Known as the local Market Cross where all the wheeling and dealing took place—official ones, as well as the not-so-official works of local folks—it stood just off Stricklandgate,
“opposite the Covered Market, and was an obstruction in the street. There still remains a remnant of it in a stone at the corner, vulgarly called “cold stone,” where the charters and so forth were usually proclaimed. Cold stone is a corruption of “call stone;” an appendage common to most ancient towns, where all public matters were “called” prior to the “institution” of belman.”
This folk etymology of “cold” needs to kept in mind when we come across other stones of this name. …The earliest record of a market held at Kendal is from 1402, but written records of the Market Cross are scant until 1714. Such edifices tend to be architecturally ornate, but we have neither sketches nor descriptions of this lost site and must await the work of fellow researchers who may hopefully find out more.
References:
Nicholson, Cornelius, The Annals of Kendal, Whitaker & Co.: London 1861.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of Westmorland – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1967.
Cup-Marked Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – NO 186 480
Archaeology & History
When J. Romilly Allen (1881) wrote about the megaliths and petroglyphs of Glenballoch, the owner of the property—a Mr George Harris—informed him of other archaeological finds in the locale: one of which was a cup-marked stone with distinct linear elements, whose description reminded me, slightly, of Ilkley’s Idol Stone. It was found a short distance east of the Glenballoch (or Craighall Mill) stone circle. Allen told how,
“Mr Harris…informed me that about twenty years ago he had dug up a stone with cup-markings upon it, on the opposite side of the valley to the south-east of the Glenballoch stone. The stone lay horizontally with the cups uppermost. It was split up and is now built into the out buildings of Glenballoch Farm. The two largest fragments form the cover and sill of the hole through which the shaft of the threshing machine passes through the wall of the horse-mill, into the house. A third fragment is built in above the window at the opposite side of the house, and is of greenish hue. Mr Harris expressed his great regret at not having known the value of this stone when he broke it up, and he is evidently proud of the stone which remains, and is determined that no ill shall befall it as long as he remains its guardian. The cup marks on the stone which was broken appear to have been arranged symmetrically in two rows, and Mr Harris affirms distinctly that they were alternately circular and rectangular.”
These three stone fragments have not been seen since. They may still be covered over in the spot Mr Harris described, but no one seems to have found them. In the event that someone manages to find them, see if you can get a few good photos and stick ’em on our Facebook group.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NU 0444 0186
Archaeology & History
In an area teeming with prehistoric sites from the neolithic and Bronze Age periods, we had a rare example here of some cup-and-rings that had been carved within a small cave or rock shelter of some kind. Sadly it got destroyed in the mid-19th century due to quarrying operations—but not before George Tate (1864; 1865) had a final sniff of the place and was very lucky to see some of the remains before they finally bit-the-dust. He told us:
“The great sandstone ridge ranges from Eglingham and Beanley across the central part of the county towards Rothbury, near to which is a cave in the rock called “Cartington Cove;” concentric circles with central hollows were incised within this cave. Mr. Williamson of Alnwick, from whom I had this information, played around them when a boy more than fifty years ago; and they were then popularly called “Cups and Saucers.” Nearly all of them have been destroyed by the wedges and hammers of quarrymen; but on visiting the spot in 1859, I found sufficient traces to confirm Mr. Williamson’s testimony.”
But they were gone a few years later thanks to the lads at the quarry. Although the site was subsequently described in Beckensall’s modern surveys (1992; 2006), nothing more was found about them.
Folklore
Whilst David Dixon (1903) reiterated Mr Tate’s notes on the “series of incised concentric circles and central hollows” here, he also mentioned an old piece of folklore:
“At Cartington Cove (is) a recess or cave which, local tradition says, is connected by a subterranean passage with Cartington Castle, three miles distant!”
Intriguing ingredients: caves – Underworld journey – north – all symbolic of Death in pre-christian lore. Just saying…
References:
Beckensall, Stan, Prehistoric Rock Motifs of Northumberland – volume 2, Abbey Press: Hexham 1992.
Beckensall, Stan, Circles in Stone: A British Prehistoric Mystery, Tempus: Stroud 2006.
Dixon, David D., Upper Coquetdale, Northumberland, Robert Redpath: Newcastle-upon-Tyne 1903.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost): OS Grid Reference – NT 931 302
Archaeology & History
Little is now known of this carving which was described briefly by Stan Beckensall (1983):
“A cup and ring marked stone was found in the field north of Yeavering Bell in the neighbourhood of the monolith. The last heard of it, according to the Northumberland County History (14:67) was that it was in the grounds of Ewart Park.”
The monolith he speaks of would be the one called the Battle Stone (NT 9299 3038) and Ewart Park is 2 miles ENE of here. The carving remains lost. (the grid reference where the stone was originally located is an approximation, but a pretty good one)
References:
Beckensall, Stan, Northumberland’s Prehistoric Rock Carvings – A Mystery Explained, Pendulum: Rothbury 1983.
