Follow the directions to the Water Sheddles Cross Standing Stone on the Yorkshire-Lancashire border; and when you get to the reservoir, walk straight across the road and head almost straight up onto the moor as if you’re going to the rock outcrop ahead of you on the horizon, called the Wolf Stones. After just a couple of hundred yards though, amble back and forth to find the stone. It’s in the heather, close by.
Archaeology & History
Great Moss Stone – looking NW
I can find no history about this small stone, just over three feet high, which was almost lost in the boggy heather when I first came here. Standing in a small pool in the peaty-ground, the stone is very worn, with one of Nature’s cup-markings on top. There is the possibility that this stone may have been one of the old boundary markers pre-dating the 1614 case which questioned the exact boundary line marking the Yorkshire-Lancashire border — but this is purely hypothetical. The Water Sheddles Cross is just a few hundred yards east of here.
Easy enough to find once you’ve actually got to Wycoller. By car, the only real way to get here is from Colne, through the village of Winewall, and along the Wycoller road, which runs to a dead end. Once here, the old packhorse bridge with these cup-marks on it can’t be missed!
Weird one this! On the famous packhorse bridge close to the old hall, four of the stones have cup-markings etched onto them. It seems that at least three of the carvings are archaic; cups on one of them seems somewhat deep and appears to be medieval. A short article describing them was in the Bradford Cartwright Hall Archaeology Bulletin (1962) where they were just as puzzled about them. In 1979, J.A. Heginbottom described them in his survey on the prehistoric rock-art of upper Calderdale. The stones on which the cups were carved may have been taken from a prehistoric tomb on the edge of the moor further up the valley from here.
Folklore
Just next to this bridge is another, much older one, known locally as the Clapper or Druid’s Bridge which perhaps has some bearing on the curious cup-markings. Legend tells that this older construction was so called “because legend has it that it led to an amphitheatre where the druids held human sacrifices” – and the field just up from here (to the southwest) was known as the Dripping Stone Field. Hmmmmm…..
References:
Bentley, John, Portrait of Wycoller, Nelson Local History Society 1975.
Heginbottom, J.A., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Upper Calderdale, unpublished report: 1979.
Jackson, Sidney, ‘Cup-Marked Stones at Wycoller,’ in Cartwright Hall Archaeology Group Bulletin, October 1962.
Settlement (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SJ 959 928
Archaeology & History
Known by this name – Werneth – since at least the 12th century, place-name masters Ekwall, Smith and others have tended to think the place derives from a hypothetical British word, *verno-, meaning alder trees – though I aint so sure misself.
It’s been difficult to ascertain the precise nature of this prehistoric arena. Many mesolithic flint finds and old stone axes have been found around the area, but it seems primarily to have developed into a neolithic and Bronze Age settlement and burial site. A number of cairns were once here, and both rounded and linear earthwork features occur in the area; but there’s been considerable disturbance in and around the site and without in-depth archaeo-surveillance, much remains hidden.
The best way to locate this is probably by starting from the pub opposite the old church of St. Leonard and heading west along the village road, past three large gate-entrances, until reaching the conspicuous milestone by the road junction. On the other side of the road, just before the gate entrance to Downham Hall, edged into the base of the wall, we find this ‘ere The Great Stone.
Archaeology & History
The Great Stone, Downham
What a truly beautiful little village we find in Downham, nestled quietly and with age at the northern edge of Pendle hill. It’s tucked away, off any main road so maintaining its sense of age and almost reclusive nature. There is hidden history a-plenty scattering the landscape here, but tales of our Great Stone — thought by some as an old monolith; remains of a Roman milestone by others; whilst some just denote it as nowt but a small stone — is what brought me here. It’s name betrayed my expectation (I always hope for too much it seems…), but the small pock-marked stone has been embedded in its present position for at least 150 years, as the growth of soil and tree behind it shows. Archaeo-historians say little of it (reputations y’ know!) until something substantial is found; but thankfully we came upon the lovely couple who are Lord and Lady Clitheroe of Downham Hall, who told us more…
Folklore
“There are a couple of humourous legends told of the Great Stone,” Lord Downham began… But to a (sometimes) courteous megalithomaniac like myself, the tales rang the all-too-familiar bell.
Close-up of the Great Stone
The original position of the stone, though not known for certain, was some short distance away either across the road, or further along in a nearby field. When it was moved – Lord Downham said around 1830 – the remains of a body were found beneath it; but another source told in fact that it marked “the final resting place of two legionaries who died on the nearby Roman road during trouble with the Brigantes.” (An old Roman road is nearby) But apparently this old stone also moves. When the church bell strikes midnight the stone is said to turn itself around upside-down. Where have we heard that before!?
The site is described in Clifford Byrne’s (1974) unpublished manuscript on the crosses of Lancashire, where he cites it as being the remains of a cross pedestal, but adds that “if ever a cross stood by the village green, no memory of seems now to exist.” But Mr Byrne also described the all-too-familiar heathen folk tales, saying:
“A local man told the writer that the object is called Downham Stone and that it turns over every night at midnight. We read elsewhere that the boulder is called “the great stone of Downham” and that it turns at the stroke of midnight by the church clock.”
References:
Byrne, Clifford H., “A Survey of the Ancient Wayside Crosses in North East Lancashire,” unpublished manuscript, 1974.
Lofthouse, Jessica, Three Rivers, Robert Hale: London 1946.
Lofthouse, North Country Folklore, Robert Hale: London 1976.
Winterbottom, Vera, The Devil in Lancashire, Cloister: Stockport 1963.
Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SD 664 655
Archaeology & History
I have found no archaeological references whatsoever to this site (though to be honest, the Lancashire archaeological fraternity are pretty poor when it comes to finding and recording sites). The place has its existence preserved in the aptly-named Ringstones Lane and the farmhouse, Ringstones.
Michala Potts found several records of the place in the 17th century, and the site is shown on the 1844 OS-map with the same name, but we have been unable to ascertain when/if any standing stones were here. The place may well have been a burial-site of some sort, as found at other Ringstone place-names in Lancashire. But we can clearly see on aerial imagery that there is a large, distinct, circular outline in the heavily ploughed fields about 100 yards north of the farm. There is what may be the remains of a second circle above this, but the outline is faint; but it appears that an enclosure of some sort, ovoid in shape and a couple of hundred feet across, was also evident in the same field where the more distinct circular outline is seen.
My favourite outline however, is a large linear mark on the ground stretching for several hundred yards running roughly north-south, starting in the field between Aikengill and Ringstones and going dead straight, bypassing the circle and crossing Ringstones Lane, where it seems to disappear and is no longer visible. The curious ‘ground line’ is roughly 100 feet across. Cursus anyone!?
Park up at the Nick of Pendle and follow directions to the Devil’s Apronful of Stones, but about halfway along the path, bear to the right along a swerving footpath which eventually takes you to another guiding cairn. On the OS-maps there’s the Chartist’s Well 100 yards due west of this old overgrown tomb.
Archaeology & History
The much-overgrown Lower Apronful cairn
Seemingly excluded from all previous archaeological surveys, this is a very large structure indeed. Crowned with a small modern cairn on its top marking a small footpath crossing the site, this very large cairn-like structure is about four feet tall at the highest. I first came across it at the end of August, 2006, after going through some folklore records which then led to exploring the area in the hope that there might be some archaeological ruins in the region — and we weren’t to be disappointed!
Outline of extended monument
This giant cairn structure is larger than the denuded remains of the Devil’s Apronful cairn that can be seen a few hundred yards further uphill, but is almost entirely overgrown with grasses. It measures at least 31 yards (east-west) by 29 yards (north-south) and is just like an overgrown Little Skirtful of Stones on Burley Moor. Parts of its eastern side have been dislodged and the main rock structure is plainly visible where the vegetation has come away. A ringed embankment is also very clear, mainly on the north and eastern sides of this large structure (as one of the photos here shows), but on the whole it is overgrown and ruinous. It’s a brilliant spot though and sorely needs some proper archaeological attention. In the event that this site aint a prehistoric cairn, please lemme know so I can delete it from TNA.
In the vicinity of the denuded ring-cairn and old tumulus of Wortshorne Hill, the Calderdale historian Mr J.A. Heginbottom (1979) described finding this simple cup-marked rock, a hundred yards or so northwest of the old circle. In my ambles here I was unable to locate it. The stone may have been reburied or destroyed. Prehistoric cup-marked carvings are (officially at least) rare things in Lancashire – and usually where you find one, others lurk close by. Do any local folk out there know anything more about this site?
References:
Heginbottom, J.A., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Upper Calderdale and the Surrounding Area, YAS: Leeds 1979.
Best way to get up here is to start from the old hall and haunted bridge at Wycoller. From here walk upstream, on the footpath on the south side. It wibbles about following the waters for a half-mile until the moors open up when you reach an old stile, past which is another bridge over the stream. Walk past this (keep on the same side) for another 50 yards, then walk up the hillside where, if the vegetation is low, you can just see a decent-sized collection of rocks. This is the old cairn.
Archaeology & History
I don’t think the site is in the Lancashire archaeological register, but it’s described in John Bentley’s fine local history work, Portrait of Wycoller from 1975. He told that,
“a suspected Bronze Age burial mound at Brink Ends in Wycoller was excavated by Stanley Cookson in 1971 and 1972. Although no interment was discovered, the remains of a fire was found in the centre of the mound with half-burnt twigs and coal.”
Brink Ends Cairn, Wycoller
It’s not unlike some of the giant cairns on Ilkley Moor and elsewhere, though not as big, nor as high, being only about 22-24 feet across. Some of the stones have evidently been taken for use in the local walling, and the ‘cairn’ is in a pretty abject state. It’s a bittova odd spot to be honest. Not 100% sure what to make of it – though flints, arrowheads and similar implements have been found on the moors here close by. Bentley (1975) also told how “Stanley Cookson had strong suspicions that an Iron Age settlement existed in this area, but only time and further exploration will tell.” A sentiment I tend to agree with. And on our first and only visit here — during one helluvan awesome downpour all day — what seemed like an Iron Age hut circle was noted a few hundred yards to the south; though we got so saturated that day that we decided to turn for home soon after looking at this cairn.
Cookson and Hindle (1985) later described this site as a “middle Bronze Age burial cairn of 1400 to 900 BC, adding:
“The 34ft diameter inner circle was excavated during 1956-58 disclosing flints, a hearth with an abundance of charcoal, and four pieces of coal on a round, heavily burnt stone.”
More visits to these moors to check for other archaeological sites are needed in the near future to see what else might be on these unexplored moors.
References:
Bentley, John, Portrait of Wycoller, Nelson Local History Society 1975.
Cookson, Stanley & Hindle, Herbert, Wycoller Country Park, H.Hindle: Colne 1985.
Start at the Nick of Pendle and walk up the footpath towards the denuded Apronful of Stones’ cairn. Keep going up the hill for another 300 yards or so, just past where there’s a path that turns-off towards the ritual Deer Stones. As you walk upwards, in front of you you’ll see the tell-tale sign of many small stones scattered in their tell-tale manner, rising up at the edge of the footpath. This is it!
Archaeology & History
This was the third in a group of previously unrecognized giant cairns that I found in August 2006 (it certainly wasn’t in the archaeology records anyway), all on the south side of our legendary Pendle Hill — and it’s bloody huge! However, unlike the other two (the Devil’s Apronful and the Lower Apronful of Stones, further down the slopes), this one doesn’t seem as certain as the other two, but it’s still worth including here and cannot be discounted until a decent archaeological assessment has been made.
Looking up to the height of the Badger Wells CairnSection of the surface remains, showing thousands of stones
Just like its companion cairns, although it’s covered over with much soil and grasses, all round the edges are hundreds of small stones and rocks, of the same type and size as the other two a bit further down the hill, and similar to the Skirtful of Stones on Ilkley and elsewhere. The overgrown heap of stones here stands about ten-feet tall from the lower western edge and measures approximately 28 yards (north-south) by 20 yards (east-west).
Although this cairn is named after the nearby Badger Wells — which gets its name either from the local badger population, or else the old ‘badger-men’ who used to trade hereby — another fresh water source also emerges near the bottom of its western side.
Upon asking a couple of passers-by (they were local regular walkers up this great hill) about this and the other giant overgrown cairns upon this hill, they didn’t have a clue they existed — although they did suggest we contact the Lord of Downham on the north side of the hill. And so there we ventured, in search of the Great Stone – and guess who we bumped into…?
Many ways to get here, but the easiest for those with cars to is park up on the southeast edge of the hill, at the various scruffy parking bits beside the road at the Nick of Pendle. The view from here is enough to get you going! Walk onto the great hill up to the rounded pap of Apronfull Hill (rather gives it away really!). It’s only a few hundred yards up – about 10 mins up the slope from the road, with awesome views all round once you get there. Tis the small guidance cairn you’re looking at just on the level. You’re there!
Archaeology & History
This would once have been a rather huge cairn/tomb — though when I first found the remains of this place in August 2006, there were no archaeological records describing it that I could find. But there’s very little left of it. The lads who did the quarrying further downhill (where you’ve probably parked your car) are likely to have been the culprits who nicked most of the rocks that once made this huge forgotten tomb. But as you potter about here, it becomes obvious that you’re standing on the much-denuded remains of just such a monument (very similar in size and structure to the more famous Little Skirtful and Great Skirtful of Stones on Burley Moor, or Black Hill round cairn near Skipton). But the remains you can see beneath your feet still give a good idea as to how large it was.
Remnants of the cairn-spoil cover the ground where the monument once stood proud!
You’ll see once you’re stood here that there are hundreds, maybe even several thousands of stones just on and below the ground, scattering a very well-defined roughly circular area measuring at least 21 yards (east-west) by 22 yards (north-south), right by the side of the path. The edges of this ransacked cairn are pretty well defined around the north and eastern sides. Near the centre of the old structure is a very notable ‘dip’ in the ground where it looks as if something has been dug away — though this could just as well be due to the presence of underground water, as indicated by the growth of Juncus grasses. Without an excavation it’s obviously difficult to tell.
Folklore
Twas the following tale which first led my nose to explore this part of Pendle hill. It’s a tale we find at many of our upland tombs, though the record books said there was nowt here! (any myopic archaeologists out there who reckon that folklore has no relevance to their subject, educate one’s self!)
Looking from the Devil’s Apronful towards Jeppe Knave’s Grave
The Devil was having trouble with the folk at Clitheroe Castle (a few miles west) and wanted rid of it. So he picked up various large stones and put them in his apron then threw them towards the castle. Most of them missed, which made him angry and in a rage he accidentally dropped a great pile of rocks on the south side of Pendle Hill, creating the Devil’s Apronful on Apronfull Hill.
In another tale he was said to have stood at the Deer Stones a few hundred yards east of here and threw rocks from there. Perhaps a folk-remnant of where the Apronful stones once came from…? Perhaps not.
Jessica Lofthouse (1976) notes how this old spot was long known by local people as the Devil’s Apronful.
References:
Lofthouse, Jessica, North-Country Folklore, Hale: London 1976.
