Located in the copse known as Godwell’s Grove on the western boundary of Arkesden, there are good grounds for thinking this was a sacred well: not necessarily relating to the christian God, but what A.H. Smith (1956) described simply as, from the old English, “a (heathen) god.” Another site of the same name is found in Wiltshire. In the local survey by Parish (2010), he told that “its name suggests it is a holy well.”
In Reaney’s (1976) survey on English place-names, he looks at a number of places where the element “god” is found and explores the notion of them recording a personal name, Gode. This is evident of course, but he stated that,
“it would indeed be a remarkable coincidence if all these names…were to contain the personal-name Gode, a short form of Godric, Godwine, etc. It in inconceivable that the reference should be to the christian deity… All are situated in areas of early settlement where heathen place-names might be expected and may well contain OE god, ‘a god’.”
There is no longer any trace of the well.
References:
Parish, R.B., Holy Wells and Healing Springs of Essex, Pixyled Press: Nottingham 2010.
Reaney, P.H., The Place-Names of Essex, Cambridge University Press 1935.
Reaney, P.H., The Origin of English Place-Names, RKP: London 1976.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Robin Hood wells are numerous in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, but finding them in this neck o’ the woods is unusual (a Robin Hood’s Farm can be found nearly 14 miles south). The waters here would have had obvious importance for local peasant folk in bygone centuries, perhaps with scatterings of Beltane and Midsummer rites hereby; but it seems that records are silent on such matters. The only reference I can find of this place is in Bracken’s (1860) fascinating work on Sutton Coldfield, where he told that,
“At the extremity of the parish, near Pype, a little field is still called the Bowbearer’s Croft. Tradition says two officers of the chase, bowbearers, had a lodge there; and that their duty was to guide the travellers across the wild country. A very old cottage, that had been well built, was removed from the croft in 1828. In that neighbourhood was a fountain, called Robin Hood’s well, now enclosed within the grounds of Penns, where the natural beauties of the situation have been judiciously displayed and improved by the taste of the late proprietor, Joseph Webster.”
Marshy ground to the east of Pype Hall fed the large pond, which is one contender for the site of this lost well. What has become of it? A search in the local library archives for any old manorial maps, or the field-name maps showing Bowbearer’s would prove truly helpful in relocating this site.
References:
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Highlighted on the 1884 Ordnance Survey map of the region and located beyond the far eastern end of Braceridge Lake, this legendary well has seen better days. A small well-house once covered the spring, but all we have left today is little more than a rectangular stone-lined concrete hole-in-the-ground where the waters collect (hopefully some local folk can bring it back to life). But in the 19th century it was well known, much frequented and maintained.
Not much seems to be known about its mythic history, as the traditions surrounding its dual pagan-christian dedication seem to have been forgotten. When the local writer Tom Burgess (1893) came to explore its history, he merely wrote:
“How it came to be called the Druids’ Well is not known, it is scarcely necessary to say that it can have no Druidical connection; it is very probable, however, that it was dedicated to Saint Mary long before the dam of Bracebridge Pool was made by Ralph Bracebridge in the reign of Henry V.”
Druids Well in 1917Druid’s Well in 1932
Jeremy Harte (2008) suggested that this well’s druidic association may have come from a local man, William Hutton who, in the middle of the 18th century, “speculated on a druid sanctuary near Sutton Coldfield.” But before Hutton, the 17th century Staffordshire topographer, Robert Plot, suggested that an arch-druid held residence on Barr Beacon, which is less than three miles west of here. This idea was echoed by Midgley (1904) who told that Barr Beacon “is supposed to have been a Druidical shrine.” Just over three miles to the northwest, the Druid’s Heath (a place-name derived, apparently, from an old family) at Aldridge also had its own array of folklore which, perhaps, may have had something to do with this well’s association. When Roy Palmer (1976) wrote about the Druid’s Well in his folklore survey, he told that Sutton Coldfield,
“is said once to have been the seat of the arch-druid of Britain; perhaps this was his well, which was later christianized.”
So much to choose from…
References:
Bord, Janet, Holy Wells in Britain – A Guide, HOAP: Wymeswold 2008.
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Midgley, W., A Short History of the Town and Chase of Suton Coldfield, Midland Counties Herald: Birmingham 1904.
Palmer, Roy, The Folklore of Warwickshire, Batsford: London 1976.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Sitting quietly “on the village green, where the fair is still held,” wrote Wigram (1885), “stands the base of the old market-cross, reduced to a shapeless stump, but still bearing traces of leaden setting.” Thought to be mediaeval in age, it was described as a sundial on some of the early Ordnance Survey maps which, perhaps, it may have been used as for a short period (although records are silent on the matter). Standing just three-feet tall, this old stone pillar still lives on its ancient spot, as quiet as always, keeping itself to itself…
References:
Wigram, S.R., Chronicles of the Abbey of Elstow, Parker & Co.: Oxford 1885.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 9848 0822
Also Known as:
St. James’ Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1897 map
Shown on the early Ordnance Survey maps of the town, Berkhamsted’s holy well was a place of some renown in bygone centuries. Today it is barely remembered. It was initially dedicated to St. James, as it was associated with a chapel dedicated to that saint close by, but it had a change of name when the legendary Brotherhood of St. John the Baptist became the new caretakers, so to speak. As a result of this, its history can be a little confusing to some folk!
In the late 12th century, pagan worship at this site came to the attention of Hugh of Grenoble, the Bishop of Lincoln, who visited the place to stop local folk performing their animistic practices (although the exact nature of such rites were not described, sadly). It didn’t work, obviously; as once the bonkers bishop had gone, local folk would have continued in their old ways, no doubt wondering who the hell the odd incomer had been who was telling them to stop doing what they had always done here at the cost of no one. And so the waters continued to be used under the mythic cover of old St James—for the time being at least.
The well later became a centre of pilgrimage and and a hospital was been built close by dedicated to St James, where leprosy was treated and the curative waters from this well were used. St James’ Day was July 25 and an annual fair was held in Berkhamsted thanks to a Royal Charter of James I in 1619. Hertfordshire traditions relating to St James Day are described in Miss Jones-Baker’s (1974) fine survey on the customs of the county. But change was a-coming when a local monk had a dream that the waters of this “pagan spring” needed to be blessed and dedicated to the virtues of St. John the Evangelist and a shrine built where pilgrims could worship and be healed. And as Jones-Baker (1977) told us,
“The water of St John’s Well were thought to cure a variety of diseases; among these leprosy and scrofula (the King’s Evil) as well as sore eyes. There was also a persistent belief that clothing washed in its waters would impart good health to the wearers.”
In the period when the Protestant Reformation occurred, the well and its immediate surrounds apparently became derelict and overgrown. The Old Ways returned and local folk began to visit the waters again at night and the animistic rituals that would have been taken to other secret places returned to St. John’s Well. In this period a local physician, a Dr. Woodhouse, used the sacred waters as part of magickal rites to exorcise evil spirits!
In spite of the local authorities declaring in 1865 that the water was “unfit for drinking”, local folk later told otherwise. Its waters were still being used in the 20th century and its traditions no doubt retained. As the local writer Dora Fry (1954) told us:
“The families dwelling in the cottages at the Bulbourne end of the lane, just below St John’s Spring, were all remarkably healthy… Some time after the town got its first waterworks (and) the local authorities declared that the well’s water was to be used only for the gardens… but I remember as a child drinking the water from the main spring and its coolness and freshness were delectable on a hot summer afternoon.”
The well was still visible up until the 1930s, when its waters ran down a shallow channel along St John Well’s Lane, but then a shop was built above the site and the well has been lost forever.
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Sacred Waters, Granada: London 1985.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
About mile south of Northchurch, on the far side of the A41 dual carriageway, somewhere past the old crossroads (or perhaps even at the crossing) an ancient tree lived—and truly lived in the minds of local people, for perhaps a thousand years or so. Mentioned in the Lay Subsidy Rolls in 1307, the Cross Oak gave its name to the old building that once stood in the trees and the hill itself, at the place now known as Oak Corner. Whether or not a “cross” of any form was set up by this old oak, records are silent on the matter. Its heathen ways however, were pretty renowned! (a plaque should be mounted here)
Folklore
The first reference I’ve found of this place is in William Black’s (1883) folklore survey where he told that “certain oak trees at Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire, were long famous for the cure of ague”—ague being an intense fever or even malaria. But a few years later when the local historian Henry Nash (1890) wrote about this place, he told that there was only one tree that was renowned for such curative traditions, that being the Cross Oak. He gave us the longest account of the place, coming from the old tongues who knew of it when they were young—and it had it’s very own ritual which, if abided by, would cure a person of their malady. “The legend ran thus”, wrote Mr Nash:
“Any one suffering from this disease was to proceed, with the assistance of a friend, to the old oak tree, known as Cross Oak, then to bore a small hole in the said tree, gather up a lock of the patient’s hair and make it fast in the hole with a peg, the patient then to tear himself from the tree, leaving the lock behind, and the disease was to disappear.
“This process was found to be rather a trying one for a weak patient, and by some authority unknown the practice was considerably modified. It was found to be equally efficacious to remove a lock of hair by gentle means, and convey it to the tree and peg it in securely, and with the necessary amount of faith the result was generally satisfactory. This is no mere fiction, as the old tree with its innumerable peg-holes was able to testify. This celebrated tree, like many other celebrities, has vanished, and another occupies its place, but whether it possesses the same healing virtues as its predecessor is doubtful. It is however a curious coincidence, that the bane and the antidote have passed away together.”
The lore of this magickal tree even found its way into one of J.G. Frazer’s (1933) volumes of The Golden Bough, where he told how the “transference of the malady to the tree was simple but painful.”
Traditions such as this are found in many aboriginal cultures from different parts of the world, where the spirit of the tree (or stone, or well…) will take on the illness of the person for an offering from the afflicted person: basic sympathetic magick, as it’s known. Our Earth is alive!
References:
Black, William G., Folk Medicine, Folk-lore Society: London 1883.
Frazer, James G., The Scapegoat, MacMillan: London 1933.
Jones-Baker, Doris, The Folklore of Hertfordshire, B.T. Batsford: London 1977.
Nash, Henry, Reminiscences of Berkhamsted, W. Cooper & Nephews: Berkhamsted 1890.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SX 0309 5227
Archaeology & History
More than two hundred years ago, an impressive prehistoric burial mound lived in an area that used to be known as Gwallon Down, not far from the impressive Long Stone monolith, about half-a-mile west of Charlestown on the southern edges of St. Austell, but it was completely destroyed in 1801. Thankfully there was a lengthy account made of the site in John Whitaker’s (1804) huge work, but there seems to be little else known of it. He told us:
“In the middle of that extended waste, the downs of St. Austle, was, what was called One Barrow. This waste, in 1801, was resolved to be enclosed, and the barrow was obliged to be levelled. In this operation, the single workman came near the centre, and there found a variety of stones, all slates, ranged erect in an enclosure nearly square. The stones were about one foot-and-a-half in height, apparently fixed in the ground before the formation of the barrow. The stones were all undressed, but had little stones carefully placed in the crevices at the joints of the large, in order to preclude all communication between the rubbish without and the contents within. On the even heads of these stones was laid a square freestone, which had evidently been hewn into this form, which seemed to rest with its extremities on the edges of the others, and was about eighteen or twenty inches in diameter. The summit of the barrow rose about eight or ten feet above all. In the enclosure, the leveller found a dust, remarkably fine, and seemingly inclining to clay. On the surface it was brown, about the middle downwards it took a dark chestnut colour, and at the bottom it approached towards a black. On stirring it up, a multitude of bones appeared, different in the sizes, but none exceeding six or seven inches in length. Among them were some pieces about the largeness of a half-crown, which, from their concave form, convinced him they were parts of a skull. The whole mass of bones and ashes might (he thought) be about one gallon in quantity. On touching the bones, they instantly crumbled into dust, and took the same colour with the same fineness as the dust in which they were found. They were exceedingly white when they were first discovered, but remarkably brittle; the effect assuredly of their calcination in a fire, antecedent to their burial. Much in fineness and in colour with these ashes, appeared several veins of irregular earth on the outside of the enclosure; which, from their position without, yet adjoining, and from the space occupied by them there, he conjectured to have been bodies laid promiscuously upon the funeral pile, but which I conjecture to have been only the ashes adhering to the ground, and not possible to be separated from it, for a burial with the rest within the enclosure. They had nothing of sand in them, but seemed inclining to clay, and even more so (from the adhering soil probably) than the dust of the enclosure. And, as the workman was fully convinced of what every one else must acknowledge, that the ashes and the bones of the enclosure had once belonged to a human body, he very properly took up the whole with care, placed the stones nearly in their original posture within an hedge contiguous, then in building, placed also the bones with the ashes within their original enclosure there, and even placed the covering-stone over both.”
One wonders where precisely the hedgerow happened to be where the stones were placed “nearly in their original posture”, and if this reconstruction was ever recovered.
The site was subsequently mentioned in Polwhele’s (1816) massive survey, reiterating Whitaker’s description, simply telling how:
“With respect to the monumental remains in the neighbourhood of St Austel, a very ingenious correspondent says in one of the mounds of earth on our downs which was lately levelled a kind of urn was discovered which evidently contained human ashes many of the bones were entire but appear to have been calcined I am well acquainted with the man who dug this up.”
References:
Borlase, William Copeland, Nænia Cornubiæ, Longmans Green Reader: Truro 1872.
Hammond, Joseph, A Cornish Parish: Being an Account of St. Austell, Skeffington & Sons: London 1897.
Polwhele, Richard, The History of Cornwall – volume 2, Law & Whittaker: Truro 1816.
Whitaker, John, The Ancient Cathedral of Cornwall – volume 2, John Stockdale: London 1804.
Nice ‘n easy: get into the village and walk through the church gates and there, on your left on the grass verge, a plinth and the cross-head sits before thee!
Archaeology & History
When the great Arthur Langdon (1896) wrote about Crowan’s cross-head, he was puzzled. At the time it was in the garden of a local surveyor in the nearby village of Praze-an-Beeble, but its origins seemed mysterious. The surveyor in question, a Mr William Carah, wrote to Langdon and said,
“It seems a mystery where the cross we have originally came from. A friend of mine, living abroad at present, saw it, I think, at a farm-place, being used as a bottom for a beehive. He asked the people for it, intending to fix it somewhere. At any rate, when he left England he had not done so, and at my request they gave the cross to me.”
The condition of the cross-head wasn’t too good and Langdon suggested it had “received some very rough treatment” – no doubt when it was hacked from its shaft. With his usual precision he gave the dimensions of the cross-head as follows:
“Height, 1 ft. 6 in.; width, 1 ft. 8 in.; thickness: at the bottom 6½ in., at the top 5½ in.
Front. — Part of a small conventional figure of Christ, extending to the knees, at which point the fracture occurred which separated the head from the shaft.
Back. — The remains of a mutilated Latin cross in relief.”
The stone shaft or menhir that once supported this carved head has, it would seem, long since been destroyed.
References:
Blight, J.T., Ancient Crosses and other Antiquities in the West of Cornwall, Simpkin Marshall: London 1858.
Courtney, R.A., The Evolution of the Wheel Cross, Beare & Sons: Penzance 1914.
Doble, Gilbert H., A History of the Parish of Crowan, King Stone Press: Shipston-on-Stour 1939.
Langdon, Andrew, Stone Crosses in West Cornwall, Federation of Old Cornwall Societies 1999.
Langdon, Arthur G., Old Cornish Crosses, Joseph Pollard: Truro 1896.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 4506 4055
Archaeology & History
Well highlighted, in 1730
The holy well of Banbury seems to have been destroyed sometime in the second-half of the 19th century, when the industrialists built over the area. When the historian Alfred Beesley (1841) wrote about it, the waters were still running. He told it to be, “a chalybeate spring, well-known and still often visited, situated on the west side of the town, a little north of the footway leading to North Newington.”
The footpath is obviously long gone—as is the well. It’s iron-bearing (chalybeate) properties would have given the waters good fortifying properties, perhaps of some renown to local people yet, according to Mr Beesley, it was a slow-flowing spring. In his brief history of the site, he also gave us the results of a chemical examination of its healing waters, telling us:
“This is called St. Stephen’s Well in a plan of Sir John Cope’s property at Banbury made in 1764. It also appears prominently as “A Well ” in an unfinished view of Banbury made in 1730 (illustrated above)….
The water of this spring is perfectly clear and colourless, having a brisk and slightly chalybeate taste. The stone channel is coated with a light red deposit, and a scum of the same colour appears on the water in parts where stagnant. The spring discharges from half a gallon to one gallon in a minute. In 32 oz. of the water at 60° are,
Carbonic Acid gas, 5 cubic inches
Hydrochlorate Magnesia, 0.21 grains.
Chloride Sodium or common Salt, 0.54
Sulphate Lime, 1.5
Carbonate Lime, 3.8
Protoxide Iron, 0.024
Silica a trace
Total weight of solid contents – 6.074″
Folklore
St. Stephen is an odd character. His annual celebration or feast day in Britain is December 26. (in eastern countries it’s a day later) Rites connected to this character are decidedly heathen in nature. From the 10th century, in England, St Stephen’s Day has been inexorably intertwined with horses, bleeding them on his feast days, apparently for their own health. Water blessed by priests on this day would be kept for the year and used as a medicine for horses during that time. Also on this day, young lads would “hunt the wren” and, once caught, impale it on top of a long pole and take it from house to house. Despite this curious motif being a puzzle to folklore students, Mircea Eliade (1964) explained how this symbolism is extremely archaic and “the bird perched on a stick is a frequent symbol in shamanic circles.”
Eliade, Mircea, Shamanism – Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press 1964.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Johnson, William P., The History of Banbury, G. Walford: Banbury 1860.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Highlighted on Benjamin Donn’s map of Devon in 1765, this impressive neolithic dolmen consists of three large granite support stones between 5 ft 7 in and 7 ft 7 in tall, surmounted by a large capstone measuring 15 feet by 10 feet. It collapsed in 1862 but was restored later the same year.
Folklore
In Murray’s (1851) Handbook for Travellers he told the following tale of the site:
This interesting old monument derives its name from a whimsical tradition that three spinsters (who were spinners) erected it one morning before breakfast; but “may we not,”* says Mr. Rowe (Peramb. of Dartmoor), “detect in this legend of the three fabulous spinners the terrible Valkyriur of the dark mythology of our Northern ancesters – the Fatal Sisters, the choosers of the slain, whose dread office was to ‘weave the warp and weave the woof of destiny.'”
Polwhele informs us that the legend varies, in that for the three spinsters some have substituted three young men and their father, who brought the stones from the highest part of Dartmoor; and in this phase of the legend has been traced an obscured tradition of Noah and his three sons.
.. The hill on which it stands commands an excellent view of Cawsand Beacon. About 100 yds. beyond the cromlech on the other (N.) side of the lane, is a pond of water, of about 3 acres, called Bradmere Pool, prettily situated in a wood. It is said to be unfathomable, and to remain full to the brim during the driest seasons, and some regard it as artificially formed and of high antiquity – in short a Druidical pool of lustration connected with the adjacent cromlech..
.. The country-people have a legend of a passage formed of large stones leading underground from Bradmere to the Teign, near the logan stone..
References:
Baring-Gould, Sabine, A Book of Dartmoor, London 1900.
Crossing, William, Gems in a Granite Setting, Western Morning News: Plymouth 1905.
Falcon, T.A., Dartmoor Illustrated, James G. Comin: Exeter 1900.
Murray, John, A Hand-book for Travellers in Devon & Cornwall, John Murray: London 1851.
Ormerod, G. Waring, Notes on Rude Stone Remains Situate on the Easterly Side of Dartmoor, privately printed 1873.
Page, John Lloyd Warden, An Exploration of Dartmoor and its Antiquities, Seeley: London 1892.
Worth, R. Hansford, Worth’s Dartmoor, David & Charles: Newton Abbot 1967.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
