An excellent spot with fantastic views. There’s many ways to approach the place, but a good one is from the roadside by Howgill, then following the track uphill until you reach the moor, then head towards the spectacular and legendary, Simon’s Seat (which folklore ascribes to be named after the great druid, Simon Magus). You’ll pass an old Grey Stone (two large rocks) from which you can espy the old tomb if you stand on top of ’em. Keep walking uphill and it’s about 100 yards off the footpath to your right. A large boulder is nestled just beneath the tomb itself, which stands out on a ridge.
Archaeology & History
When Harry Speight visited here (1900) he described it as being 40 yards in circumference. He also described “an upright stone below the cairn” with apparent cup-markings on the west-side. I’m not quite sure where this has got to – but the site has shrunk somewhat since Speight’s day. It’s only about 20 feet across now, and the middle of it has been hollowed into a grouse-shooting butt for the toffs!
About 100 yards southeast (towards the Truckle Stones) are the remains of some neolithic walling in a straight line.
Folklore
One of many old tombs in our northern hills said to have been created by the devil who, as usual, accidentally dropped some stones he was carrying. The old folklorist Thomas Parkinson (1888) said the following of this place:
“The Apronful of Stones is a group of rocks heaped together in delightful confusion, their disorder and name being thus explained: Once upon a time—whether when he built the bridge over the valley, or at some other time, the record saith not—the Devil was determined to fill up the ravine, or gill, of the Dibble. For this purpose he was carrying these enormous crags in his apron, when, too intent upon his object to properly observe where he placed his feet, he caught with one foot upon the top of Nursa Knott, and, stumbling, the strings of the apron broke, and the contents were thrown upon the ground as they now appear. It is also said of them that if any of them, even now, were to be removed, they would certainly be brought back to their original place during the succeeding night.”
Another legend tells that the Devil’s Apronful is also the grave of some local unnamed hero.
References:
Parkinson, Thomas, Yorkshire Legends and Traditions – volume 1, Elliott Stock: London 1888.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Two main ways to get here. Hmmmm….on second thoughts, one main way. My preferred route would be from Addingham (east-side) where the foot-bridge crosses the Wharfe. Walk up the path and, eventually, onto the tidgy road and bear left till you hit the trees. On the right-hand side of the road you’ll see the trees covering the crop near the edge of the river. …Otherwise, come from Ilkley, cross the river, take the first left, on a few hundred yards and left again on Nesfield Road. From here, keep walking about a mile and when you hit the village, you need to look into the field behind the first farmhouse on your left.
Archaeology & History
You’ll see the more visible embankments on the western edge of these old earthworks. But unless you’re a real archaeomaniac into depleted field remains, this might not tickle your neurons too much. However, it’s a gorgeous little hamlet is Nesfield – and I think that alone makes it worthy of a visit!
Cowling’s 1946 plan
Described variously over the years as an enclosure, a hillfort, a camp, a settlement – aswell as being ascribed to periods from the medieval, Roman, Iron Age and Bronze, the consensus opinion at the moment edges to it being late Bronze- to early Iron Age in origin.
The fortifications themselves seem to have been first mentioned by T.D. Whitaker in 1812, who said the following:
“Castleberg is in a commanding position, on the brink of a steep slope washed by the Wharfe, about two miles above Ilkley. This post is naturally strong, as the ground declines rapidly in every other direction. But it has been fortified on the more accessible sides by a deep trench, enclosing several acres of ground, of an irregular quadrangular form. At a small distance within the enclosure, an urn with ashes was lately found, but what seems to evince beyond a doubt, the Castleberg was a Roman work, is the discovery of a massy key of copper, nearly two feet in length, which,” he thought, “had probably been the key of the gates.”
This ‘key’ that Whitaker mentioned (if memory serves me right) has been lost and therefore its nature/function lost aswell. E.T. Cowling (1946) thought the key “may refer to a bronze article of a size which must belong to the Late Bronze Age, when the metal became more plentiful”; thinking it perhaps to be part of a sword. Twouldst be good to find this artifact and know for certain. Cowling also posited that the urn found here was of Bronze Age origin – an opinion echoed by later archaeologists.
The great Harry Speight (1900) meanwhile, told that the hamlet itself was locally called Castleberg and told us a bit more of the details of the finds, saying:
“I am disposed to think it was a winter-station of the old Britons of Howber, and afterwards of the Teutonic settlers. An urn containing ashes has been found on the site, and Mr James Pickard, who has long occupied the adjoining farm, tells me he has excavated several parts of it and found human bones, but no relics. This premises Anglo-Saxon interments and the urn late British…”
References:
Cowling, E.T. Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Howson, William, An Illustrated Guide to the Curiosities of Craven, Whittaker: Settle 1850.
Keighley, J.J., ‘The Prehistoric Period,’ in Faull & Moorhouse’s, West Yorkshire, An Archaeological Guide, vol.1, Wakefield 1981.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Whitaker, T.D., History and Antiquities of the Deanery of Craven, J. Nichols: London 1812.
Pretty easy really. From Arncliffe village, walk up the Monk’s Road footpath, heading for the rocky mass immediately south. Once you get onto the moor edge, veer straight up to your right and keep walking till you hit the rocks. Look around!
Archaeology & History
Drawing of main part of the settlement (Raistrick 1929)
Described by Miss D. Charlesworth at one of the annual meetings of the Archaeological Society in July 1968, this ‘settlement’ is found immediately south of Arncliffe village, literally 1000 feet up on the hillside and has a field system attached to it. When Charlesworth described this place, it had not been excavated, though her description of the place very much echoed those of Raistrick & Chapman (1929) nearly forty years earlier. She wrote:
“It faces north and east over the Skirfare valley, sheltered by the bulk of Parson’s Pulpit. The most interesting feature is the rectangular enclosure west of the sunken road. The walls are built of limestone some 5ft wide at the base and standing 2-3ft (tall). The huts are grouped round a courtyard at the south-eastern end and have a large stockyard attached to them. Of the 14 huts, only two are circular (those in the northwest corner), and one on the east side is approximately a circle. The remainder are rectangular, approximately 30 by 12ft.”
Although the sites is generally ascribed as Iron Age to Romano-British in date, it seems evident that these buildings were used in much later centuries — perhaps until late medieval periods. Other remains of similar size and stature can be found scattered on the hills near here (I’ll add them on TNA at sometime in the future).
References:
Charlesworth, D., ‘Iron Age Settlements and Field Systems,’ in Proceedings of the Archaeological Journal, 125: 1968.
Raistrick, Arthur & Chapman, S.E., ‘The Lynchet Groups of Upper Wharfedale, Yorkshire,’ in Antiquity, volume 3, 1929.
This place is one of the first things you see when roving the northern edge of Ilkley Moor. Tis the small white house, perched on the hillside, which you can reach via the old track bending round to it on the west side, or the steep footpath which goes roughly straight uphill from the road, just above Ilkley Town centre, up (both) Wells Walk or Wells Road. If you go just a few hundred yards up these roads, as the road bends and the moor opens up ahead, you’ll see the white building above you. But if you’re truly useless at finding your way about, ask anyone of them there locals…
Archaeology & History
The White Wells, Ilkley Moor
The White Wells have been described by countless writers over the centuries and attested as one of the great healing wells of the region. It was, without doubt, one of the most important water supplies to the indigenous Britons living on the moors here. One of their settlement sites is above the cliffs behind the modern position of the wells — though archaeological work has yet to be undertaken been. Cup-and-ring marked stones scatter the edge of the ridge right above where the waters originally appeared (a few hundred yards further up the slope on the hillside, just below the trees); and the folk-memory of our ancestors living here is found in several adjacent sites known by ‘fairy’ place-names.
But today it looks nothing like it would have done when the ancient people of the moors drank these waters, nor even when the Romans came here. For the white building which today houses the well was built around 1760 by the local Squire Middleton and originally contained three plunge baths in which folk would take the ‘cold water cure.’ (These were looked after by William Butler and his wife and were typically used by the gentry of the period, who it seems didn’t mind too much having to walk up the hillside to bathe in the “mellifluent, diaphanous, luminous waters.”)
Carved ‘celtic’ head, from which the water now emerges
The water in the house (you can go in and have a look), which now empties into a plunge pool, pours gently from the open mouth of a ‘celtic head’ – thought by some modern pagans to be ancient, but in fact is barely 200 years old. The water at White Wells originally emerged from the Earth several hundred yards further up the slope, above the present position of the house, much closer to the moor edge near the bottom of the steep slope where the pine trees cling, amidst rocks, moss and lichen. Here is where the original waters were first borne.
Long held as being curative, the first detailed description of the place was in Thomas Short’s (1734) magnum opus, where he said:
“Ichley-spaw springs out of the middle of a mountain, a mile high, and consists chiefly of lime stone and freestone. The water is very clear, brisk and sparkling; has no taste, colour nor smell different from the common water, is of the same weight. Its bason and course are of no other dye than that of a common spring. About thirty-five years ago, there were a house and a bath built, about a furlong below the original spring, which spring was brought down in stone-pipes. The first spring, near the top of the hill was very weak and small; this, very large and strong; whereby there appears to be a large mixture of other springs with this; since which time, it has fallen much sort of its former great success. Twenty yard above the drinking well (over which is built a small house of a yard square on the inside) they have cut thro’ an original spring of common water. There are several old lime-kilns a little above this. The water is first whitish, then blackish purple with solution of silver; it’s very clear, and has a purplish pellicle, with solution of sublimate; it was first white, then clear in the middle, and a white mucus at the sides and bottom of the glass, with solution of Sugar of Lead; very clear, with Oil of Tartar; whitish, with Spirit of Hartshorn; and the same as common water, with all the other trials. Five pints of this liquor exhaled left seven grains of sediment, the salt whereof dissolved in distilled water, turned solution of silver purple; was white with Spirit of Hartshorn: therefore tho’ this water is of the greatest esteem and repute of any in the north of England, in the King’s Evil and other old ulcers; yet it derives these effects neither from its fixt nor volatile parts; but wholly from the coldness and purity of the element, its drying nature from the lime-stone it washes, tho’ a great part of it comes from blue clay.”
In 1830, one Thomas Shaw said of the place,
“The water is, perhaps, for its purity, tenuity and coldness, the best qualified to be of utility for relaxed and sedantry habits of any water in this part of the country. It has frequently been analysed, but the decomposition always proved that it contains no medicinal quality. In my opinion, it is its purity and softness only, which makes if more efficacious, by passing sooner and to the utmost and finest limits of the circulation than any water known.”
But although many cures were claimed of the waters here, as Kathleen Denbigh (1981) wrote:
“According to a 1977 analysis, it is simply a clear, colourless spring water of moderate hardness, organically pure and free from metallic contamination and coliform organisms.” — i.e., it’s good clean water!
When the place gained a reputation as a spa, it was frequented by such notaries as Charles Darwin, Frederick Delius and Prof. David Baldwin. But even before this, in 1709, Dr Richard Richardson of Bradford—a reputable naturalist but also with considerable interest in ancient and occult matters—wrote that the site “has done very remarkable cures in scrofulous cases by bathing and drinking of it.”
Folklore
Old photo of Mr Butterfield, who saw fairies here
Popularly believed in local lore to have been a place held as sacred to the Romans, I’m of the opinion that the local ‘goddess’ Verbeia was resident here. A thought also mentioned by G.T. Oakley (1999) in his book on the subject.
Legend tells that the medicinal properties of the waters were first discovered hundreds of years ago when an old shepherd, walking over the moors, damaged his leg. Upon bathing it in the waters here, it soon healed.
In the Folklore Record of 1878 we find a fascinating tale about these waters, alleged to have happened to the old keeper of the place, told by a local man John Dobson, and which cannot go untold:
“William Butterfield…always opened the door first thing in the morning, and he did this without ever noticing anything out of the common until one beautiful, quiet, midsummer morning. As he ascended the brow of the hill he noticed rather particularly how the birds sang so sweetly, and cheerily, and vociferously, making the valley echo with the music of their voices. And in thinking it over afterwards he remembered noticing them, and considered this sign attributable to the after incident. As he drew near the wells he took out of his pocket the massive iron key, and placed it in the lock; but there was something “canny’ about it, and instead of the key lifting the lever it only turned round and round in the lock. He drew the key back to see that it was alright.and declared, “It was the same that he had on the previous night hung up behind his own door down at home.” Then he endeavored to push the door open, and no sooner did he push it slightly ajar than it was as quickly pushed back again. At last, with one supreme effort, he forced it perfectly open, and back it flew with a great bang! Then ‘whirr, whirr, whirr’, such a noise and sight! All over the water and dipping into it was a lot of little creatures, all dressed in green from head to foot, none of them more than eighteen inches high, and making a chatter and jabber thoroughly unintelligible. They seemed to be taking a bath, only they bathed with all their clothes on. Soon, however, one or two of them began to make off, bounding over the walls like squirrels. Finding they were all making ready for decamping, and wanting to have a word with them, he shouted at the top of his voice—indeed, he declared afterwards, he couldn’t find anything else to say or do—”Hallo there!” Then away the whole tribe went, helter skelter, toppling and tumbling, heads over heels, heels over heads, and all the while making a noise not unlike a disturbed nest of young partridges. The sight was so unusual that he declared he either couldn’t or daren’t attempt to rush after them. He stood as still and confounded, he said, as old Jeremiah Lister down there at Wheatley did, half a century previous, when a witch from Ilkley put an ash riddle upon the side of the River Wharfe, and sailed across in it to where he was standing.1 When the well had got quite clear of these strange beings he ran to the door and looked to see where they had fled, but nothing was to be seen. He ran back into the bath to see if they had left anything behind; but there was nothing; the water lay still and clear as he had left it on the previous night. He thought they might perhaps have left some of their clothing behind in their haste, but he could find none, and so he gave up looking, and commenced his usual routine of preparing the baths; not, however, without trotting to the door once or twice to see if they might be coming back; but he saw them no more.”
Along with sightings of ‘little people’, ghosts have been seen at the White Wells. It is thought that the strange apparition which presented itself to a householder here in 1982—the ghostly figure of a young girl, weeping at the water’s edge—was that of little Ann Harper who, in August 1793, at the age of nine, drowned in the well when bathing.
Earthlight (UFO) phenomena have also been reported here over the years—the most dramatic of which was alleged to have taken place at the top of the slope above the original source of the wells in 1989, when a police officer reported and photographed a “little green man” on the geological prominence just behind the wells. He went on to narrate a typical UFO ‘abduction’ event, but much of this was psychogenic and the mythic undertones echo precisely the medieval lore of abduction by faerie.
The Fortean researcher David Barclay found in his dowsing investigations here that there were spiral patterns all round the place. “At first these were in no order,” he wrote, “but through a period of over twenty visits to the place, I established markers which indicated the spiralling patterns of the energy” within the Earth immediately adjacent to the White Wells. These spirals were nearly always in a clockwise direction. In further studies here, he and I came to know a Mrs Elsie Hill, who had done some quite striking automatic drawings of the place. “In her pictures,” he wrote, “appear a prominence of spiral-forms and faerie creatures which, she believes, inhabit White Wells.”
Hmmmm…..
…to be continued…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The White Wells, Ilkley Moor, Heathen Earth: Keighley 2009.
Bogg, Edmund, Upper Wharfeland, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J. Horsfall, Ilkley, Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Denbigh, Kathleen, A Hundred British Spas, Spa Publications: London 1981.
Granville, A.B., Spas of England, Henry Colburn: London 1841.
Oakley, G.T., Verbeia: The Goddess ofWharfedale, Rooted Media: Leeds 1999.
Shaw, Thomas, The History of Wharfedale, Otley 1830.
Short, Thomas, The Natural, Experimental and Medicinal History of the Mineral Waters of Derbyshire, Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, privately printed: London 1724.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Whelan, Edna and Taylor, Ian, Yorkshire Holy Wells and Sacred Springs, Northern Lights: York 1989.
From Askwith village, at the T-junction, go up Moor Lane, taking the left turn up Moorside Lane about half-a-mile up and on the track to Moorside Farm and then onto Top Moorside Farm. Take the path past the farm up onto the moor, then bear right up the small track that heads up onto the small Hollin Tree Hill. As you go up the track, watch out for the small grassy depression to the right; and hereby head into the grasses on your right. You’re close!
Graeme Chappell was the first to rediscover this carving in the early 1990s when we were up pottering about on these and the adjacent moors, looking for any previously undiscovered prehistoric relics. We found quite a lot! The carving here is nowt special to look at really, but the cups can be seen quite clearly. It’s a rather large stone on the western edge of the hill with at least seven or eight cup-marks carved across its upper surface. Boughey & Vickerman (2003) later described it as “large, fine quartz sandstone rock with surface sloping slightly down into (the) hillside. Seven or eight cups, two particularly sharp.” There’s a possible line running between two of the cups, visible when lighting conditions are right — though we aint sure whether it’s artificial or not.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS 2003.
Truly takes a bit of finding this one! I s’ppose the easiest way to locate it is by approaching it from the south, from Askwith village, up Hall Lane. Keep walking up the footpath to Top Moorside Farm; then past it, sticking to the same path. A hundred yard or so past here we get onto the moor itself. As you hit the moor, you’ll see that the land rises slowly ahead of you: this is Hollin Tree Hill and you need to walk up here (don’t do this in the summer as it’ll be covered in bracken and you’ll not find a damn thing!). Just before the land starts to levels-out at the top of this small rise, you’ll come across some hut circles. You’re here!
image courtesy of Graeme Chappell
You can also come to this carving via the Askwith Moor parking-bit, then walk along the well-trod footpath, past the triangulation pillar of Shooting House Hill for a coupla hundred yards, then walk straight south into the moor. But to those of you who aint got the nose for it, there’s no footpaths here and some folk might easily lose their way. However, if you reach the rise of Hollin Tree Hill a few hundred yards down the moor, watch out for those same hut circles mentioned elsewhere atop of the rising land. You’re damn close!
Archaeology & History
One of my very favourite cup-and-ring carvings this one! It was discovered about 1991 when Graeme Chappell and I were on one of our many archaeology wanderings, seeking out prehistoric remains on the moors north of Ilkley. First described and illustrated in Bob Trubshaw’s (1996) archaeomythics journal, it was later included in The Old Stones of Elmet (2001: 149-152). But when we first found it, this carving – on the vertical face of a small stone, beside an unexcavated hut circle – sent me a bit crazy, as the ‘human’ image in the carving struck me immediately. Needless to say, Graeme was all calm about it while I jumped around like an excited tit! As far as we’re aware, this is the earliest representation of a human figure in the British Isles. There are several other contenders in cup-and-ring design, but this seems the most probable of the lot. Graeme Chappell took a rubbing of the stone several years after we’d found it and the outline clearly shows the image of a human figure. The carving was later catalogued by rock art students Boughey & Vickerman (2003) in their Yorkshire survey as ‘stone 516.’ A female compatriot, the Woman Stone, can be found a few hundred yards east of here, at the bottom of the slope by the near horizon.
The fact that the carving occurs on the southern vertical face of a prehistoric hut circle may have had some significance about the structure itself. Petroglyphs on hut circles are rare—and this one occurs right at the entrance to the structure, the door into the circle. It may represent an image of the person who lived in this hut circle, or perhaps symbolized the nature of the character living there. The carving shows that the person was wearing a head-dress, akin to a horned-man figure – but much much earlier than anything previously recognised in British iconography. The figure may well be a shaman who, perhaps, lived at this circle. The carving was probably painted in lichens and other dyes
The Man Stone carvingBoughey & Vickerman sketch
Be careful not to wander around looking for this when there’s fog on the hills. You’re unlikely to find it! On an excursion up here several years back with Prof. Thomas Dowson and students from the Southampton University Rock Art course, we wandered about all over the place in the dense fog but were unable to find the damn thing! Twas a bittova freaky day, as half the students started crying (they thought I’d got them truly lost in the middle of nowhere as I didn’t have a map, a compass, walking boots, etc – which is how I usually do my wanderings, but they weren’t to know that!) and we must have walked within 10 yards of the carving, but it remained hidden from our prying eyes. But if you like your rock art, check this one out!
To find this, head for the line of old grouse-butts which run north-south, a few hundred yards west of the Askwith Moor Road. Just before y’ get to the one nearest the bottom of the line, frobble about a bit. If by any chance you end up at the Woman Stone carving, walk back up the slope until you’re on the level. Not far ahead of you are the upright stone remains of a grouse-butt. This carving is just a few yards away. You’ll find it.
This was another carving found on one of the many forays of Mr Chappell and I when we were young, sometime in 1993. A short while after, Graeme wrote to Edward Vickerman to inform him of the find, which ended up in their rock art survey a decade later.
It’s another one of those simple designs: what seems like at least 5 cup-markings on a small rounded rock, with two of them linked together by a groove — possibly natural, possibly man-made — though there may in fact be seven or more cups etched onto its upper surface. It’s difficult to tell. It gives you the impression that its present position isn’t its original one and is suggested by Boughey & Vickerman (2003) to have been “moved from pipeline?” close by. It may even have been dug out and cast here, possibly once being a part of a cairn. In the Boughey & Vickerman survey they give its OS-coordinate as SE 17163 50527 – and describe it as a “medium-sized, free-standing rock of fine grit. Five cups, some perhaps natural.” When Richard Stroud and I visited the site, he found the GPS coordinate was SE 17162 50530; and we have to say that instead of describing it as a free-standing rock, it’s a movable stone (though it’d take a bit of effort), that may once have been part of a larger monument.
References:
Bennett, Paul & Chappell, Graeme, Personal Communication, 1993.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
