Students of anthropology, comparative religion, folklore, etc, have long known that some mountains, rock outcrops, rivers and other features on the Earth have been imbued with particular sanctity – i.e., are sacred. Some are deemed as the abodes of spirits (good & bad), gods and other transpersonal qualities. Most mountaineers and travellers talk of similar living qualities in Nature’s various forms. So it is that we also find sites across Britain with great myths attached to them. Examples that immediately spring to mind are Pendle Hill (Lancs), Schiehallion (Perthshire), Beinn na Cailleach (Perthshire), Simon’s Seat (N.Yorks), and many others that we see on modern OS-maps dedicated to such mythic characters as the Devil, Robin Hood, fairies, Thor, Grim and other deities. Although such sites are not generally thought of as being important in the lives of our ancestors, such places were imbued with similar animistic qualities as found at standing stones, megalithic rings and other human creations; but we can be damn sure that the spirit-qualities (genius loci) of Nature’s creations had much greater power than anything created by humans!
John Dixon took a bunch of us on a pleasant amble here via the Fair Oak Circle site. From Fair Oak, go round the back of the farm and past the small cluster of hidden cottages, then bear right down the dirt-track and up the slope, then cross the field in front of you, going over the stile, following the footpath round the eastern edge of the slightly limestone New Laund Hill, and down again, thru the gate. From here, head diagonally across the field 150 yards towards the fencing at the woodland edge. Over the fence, into the trees, head halfway down the steep-ish slope and keep your eyes peeled for the rocky outcrop nearly halfway down. Alternatively, an easier way here is apparently from the Inn at Whitewell. Go across the river via the stepping stones (or wade!) and follow the footpath uphill towards a farm, where you’ll find a large steel gate on the left that leads into the woods. Here there are 2 paths: follow the higher of the two until it starts bearing to the right. Once here, look up the hill to the right you’ll see the rock outcrop. The caves are there!
Archaeology & History
Smaller Fairy Hole
There are at least 3 caves here, close to each other along the edge of the small footpath a few yards apart. The small rounded entrance of the northernmost one (photo, right) is reported by English Heritage to have had no human remains found therein, but further investigation is required here. The main cave however is where intriguing prehistoric finds were located. It appears that the entrance was deliberately built-up and blocked by stone walling a few yards inwards, giving the remains found therein a state of protection and sanctity. Writer and historian John Dixon (2004) tells what was in the cave:
“In 1946, an excavation was carried out on the site by the archaeologist Reginald C. Musson. In front of the larger cave is a flat platform on which evidence of Bronze Age daily life was found. This included animal bones, a pebble pounder (used to extract marrow from bones) and shards of a food vessel.
“All that survived of this tripartite collared urn was a large rim-collar shard, two fragments displaying neck/shoulder/body elements and five smaller pieces, probably from the base of the body. This is the only collared urn to have been found in a cave in Lancashire. Its tripartite Pennine form assigns it to an early Bronze Age date.”
The main Fairy HolePlan of cave chamber (after J.Dixon 2004)
The artificial walled entrance may not merely have been an ingredient giving sanctity to the place, but this could well have been a site for ritual shamanic practices, including prolonged rites of passage and death rituals (authentic ones, not the modern pagan nonsense). The ‘ritual death’ elements are highly probable here for, as John Michell (1975) told, caverns and crevasses are “most responsive to the necromancer’s invocation”. It’s geomancy, spirit association and the archaeological finds therein are strongly suggestive of this usage. (Eliade 1989, 1995; Maringer 1960, etc) Bearing this in mind, it is of some concern regarding the individual who thought it wise to spray-paint his name against the wall of the cave entrance (see photo); for many are those even in these days of shallow minds who fall prey to the car-crashes and creeping madness brought upon themselves by desecrating ancestral sites of ritual magick. It would be intriguing to keep a prolonged eye on the ‘Forsh’ who painted his ego in this cave of dead spirits…
Folklore
Not surprisingly, the little people hold legend here. Jessica Lofthouse (1946) found tales of these ancient peoples in several places close by, but at the Fairy Caves specifically,
“everyone knew that these little caves in the limestone at Whitewell were the homes of the little folk.”
…And in relation to the ingredient mentioned above, about ritual use of the cave in ancient times: are there any serious ritual magickians who’ve spent time working in this cave, overnight or longer, and who can let us know of their encounters here? (long shot, I know – but it’s worth asking, considering the probable use of the place) Or perhaps spontaneous encounters of other people here…
From near the middle of the large village (or small town!) of High Bentham, go down Station Road, over the river — where the road becomes known as Thickrash Brow! — and keep going for about a mile. The landscape opens up into the hills and there, on the left-hand side of the road, is a car-parking spot with a footpath taking you straight up to the large boulder a 100 yards on: that’s our Great Stone! You can’t really miss it.
Archaeology & History
Great Stone on 1847 map
A meeting place of local tribes in more ancient days, the moorland plain upon which the Great Stone sits, beckons to a vast landscape on all quarters (north, south, east and west) calling the elders from their lands for annual rites and decisions to befit the health of the land and the people. The stone rests on the ancient boundary of Yorkshire and Lancashire, just on the Yorkshire side, and was visited annually in more later centuries during the beating of the bounds, to define the edges of the local township.
Graffiti & cup-marks on the top
First described in a Yorkshire inquisition account from 1307, this Big Stone was visited by Harry Speight (1892) who described it as measuring 30 feet round and 12 feet high. I came here for the first time in the 1980s when I was hitch-hiking into the Scottish mountains, but a good old “local” (from the Yorkshire side) took a detour to show me the place! Once here, I climbed up the very worn “steps” which were carved into the side of the boulder several centuries back and it didn’t surprise me to find a number of cup-markings (no discernible rings) on its top surface. When I came here again with Michala Potts and Paul Hornby yesterday, I couldn’t believe how many people had carved their names on top of the Great Stone in the intervening years — it’s almost covered in modern graffiti and the old cup-markings were much harder to see. Taylor (1906) mentions them briefly in his holy wells survey, saying how,
“This great boulder is ascended on its eastern side by fourteen steps, and on the top are two circular holes about two inches deep and two inches in diameter.”
There used to be three others boulders very close to this one (hence its title), making a natural stone circle, but they were “broken up for sharpening scythes” a couple of hundred years back. A much wider archaeological survey of this region is long overdue.
Folklore
Great Stone, looking east
Harry Speight (1892) told how the (original) Four Stones were the creation of our old friend the Devil, long ago, who dropped them in one his many megalithic travels across our land. The stones were also the meeting place of ancient councils, from the tribes either side of the Yorkshire-Lancashire border. Their presence here also had mythic relationship with the Queen of the Fairies Chair, about a mile southeast, along the same boundary line.
Weird how folklore changes. Whilst old Mr Speight told how the devil created the once great four stones that were here, many years later Jessica Lofthouse (1976) told how the three missing stones – which had been here “since the world began” – were actually taken from here by Old Nick. Carrying them over the land,
“His load he dropped on Casterton Fell, where the rocks he discarded, the Devil’s Apronful, are still lying around. He selected the most suitable, dressed them and carried them in panniers down to the (River) Lune”
— and built the legendary Devil’s Bridge at Kirkby Lonsdale – which itself has strange tales to tell. Another creation myth about the Great Stone is told on the plaque near the stone, alongside the footpath, which tells:
“Legend has it that it is a small part of the debris hurled by the giant Finn McCool across the Irish Sea in a fit of anger.”
It’s very obvious that a lotta mythic landscape material has been neglected and overlooked around this site. Something we need to remedy, if we can, in the coming years…
References:
Lofthouse, J., North Country Folklore, Hale: London 1976.
Speight, Harry, The Craven and Northwest Yorkshire Highlands, Elliott Stock: London 1892.
Taylor, Henry, The Ancient Crosses and Holy Wells of Lancashire, Sherratt & Hughes: Manchester 1906.
The Fairy Stone, on the south-west corner of Clunbury Hill, measures some 3ft by 2 ft 3 in and is some 2ft 6 in high. Local lore tells that it was once a standing stone, but this may not be the case; it’s thought more likely to be a simple glacial erratic. The stone is granite with quartz veins and stands very close to the local boundary line.
Folklore
Local researcher Jonathon Mullard found this stone, not surprisingly, to have “had a long tradition of fairy lights associated with it; they were said to appear at certain times of year.” And Mullard found one very intriguing encounter of these supernatural forms, later narrated in Paul Devereux’s (1990) excellent tome, which told:
“The legend would seem to relate to actual folk knowledge of the site, because Mullard was informed by an elderly woman living locally that she recalled her grandfather telling of an encounter with the lights. Returning home one evening across Clunbury Hill, he saw the whole area around the stone filled with small lights of a gaseous appearance bobbing up and down a short distance above the ground. Not wanting to go out of his way, the man walked through them. He found that any lights he happened to touch against adhered to his trousers. He briskly brushed them off, but found when he got home that the fabric was scorched. The woman had actually kept the trousers up until a decade or so before talking with Mullard!”
References:
Devereux, Paul, Places of Power, Blandford: London 1990.
Follow the same directions to get to the Aiggin Stone. Once here, go over the stile by the fence opposite towards the great geological ridge less than half-a-mile south. Head for the triangulation pillar right on the top of the ridge, and there, about 20 yards past it, higher-up than the triangulation pillar at the very top of Blackstone Edge, is Robin Hood’s legendary stone bed!
Archaeology & History
Robin Hoods Bed, looking north
There’s very little of archaeological interest known up here, save a mass of flints and scrapers that have been found scattering the moorland heights hereby, from the mesolithic period onwards. But we have a relative lack of neolithic to Iron Age remains — officially anyhow! A possible standing stone can be found a few hundred yards south, but there’s little else.
The rock that’s given its name to Robin Hood’s Bed overlooks the very edge of the ridge, detached from the main section, with a large and very curious nature-worn ‘bed’ on its very crown, more than 4 feet wide and about 7 feet long, into which one comfortably lays. It was named in the boundary records of the township of Rishworth in 1836, where it describes other historical stones, saying:
“thence under Robin Hood’s Bed to a stone marked ‘W.S.G.S. 1742, 1770, 1792, and the following figures and letters, ‘1826 I.L.S.'”
Folklore
This enormous millstone grit boulder, sitting 1550 feet upon the high moors is, according to legend, a place where our famous legendary outlaw once slept. Whilst sleeping here, some of his followers were said to have kept guard and looked over him.
Robin Hood’s Bed, from below
A rather odd piece of folklore recited by Jessica Lofthouse (1976) is that “no winds ever blow” at Robin Hood’s Bed, who then went on to tell of the time she visited the place. Walking along the rocky ridge where the stone bed is found, the winds were such that “we had almost been blown over the edge,” until just a few hundred yards further when they eventually reached the fabled site, Nature granted them a sudden calmness unknown to all the high moorlands around, affirming the curious folklore.
The ceremonial stone ‘bed’
Robin Hood’s Bed itself was undeniably an important ceremonial site for both rites of passage and ritual magick to our indigenous ancestors. The place screams of it! It also seems very likely that the hero figure of Robin Hood replaced an earlier mythological character, akin to the fabled female creation deity, the cailleach, found commonly in more northern and Irish climes, whose echoes can still be found around our Pennine hills. For we find that Robin Hood was said to have taken a large boulder from here and with a mighty heave threw it six miles across the landscape due west into the setting sun, where it eventually landed at Monstone Edge, near Rochdale! Local people were so astounded at this feat that the stone was given the name of Robin Hood’s Quoit.
7ft tall natural standing stone
The old place-name authority Eilert Ekwall (1922) related the folklore that the giant ridge of Blackstone Edge “is said to refer to a boundary stone between Yorkshire and Lancashire.” Which may be the curious upright standing stone, more than 7 feet tall, less than 50 yards NNE which gives a very distinct impression of having been deliberately stood upright, amidst this mass of loose geological droppings! It would be helpful if there was a geologist in the house who could tell us decisively one way or the other…
Another etymological possibility that has been posited relates to the word ‘bed’ at this site. Ordinarily it would be sensible to attach the word to the great stone ‘bed’ atop of the poised boulder. But with the attached legends symptomatic of prehistoric monuments, it would not be improper to highlight that the old Welsh word ‘bedd‘ (a place-name element that is not uncommon in Lancashire) means, “a grave or tomb”. And this site would be ideal for such an old prehistoric cairn…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Ekwall, E., The Place-Names of Lancashire, Manchester University Press 1922.
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Hale: London 1976.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 3, Cambridge University Press 1961.
From the lovely village of Summerbridge (near Pateley Bridge), go up the steep Hartwith Bank road, going straight across at the crossroads for another few hundred yards, passing the old tombs of Graffa Plain on your right…and they’ll start appearing on your left-hand side (west). Do not go into the expensive National Trust car-park. Instead (if you’ve already gone too far), about 100 yards before the Car Park you’ll find a small dirt-track on your left a short distance away. But if you drive past the rip-off car park, another 100 yards on there’s another spot where you can easily park up on the right-hand side of the road. Then cross the road and follow y’ nose…
Archaeology & History
The OS grid reference given above is an approximation — for obvious reasons. This is a huge area that’s covered by Britain’s finest natural megalithic features, obviously sculptured by Nature Herself — though many are the historians who sought to give Druids the credit here. God knows how! The area over which these magnificent rock sentinels live covers some 60 acres and is some 1000 feet above sea level. The view from the hill around which the encircling parade of rocks guards is excellent, allowing our eyes to catch focus on the distant lands of Whernside, Simon’s Seat, York Minster, the Cleveland Hills and Kilburn’s white horse. It’s quite a view.
Easternmost Rocking StoneIdol Stone (Godfrey Higgins 1826)
But this tends to be overlooked when you first visit the place, as the rocks which surround and walk alongside you overwhelm with impressions not encountered before. To those with spirit, you’ll be bouncing and running all day here, clambering upon rocking stones, jumping between dodgy gorges that await falls, and just aching to climb pinnacles that deny you. But then, if you need the selfishness of silence, this arena will only grant such solace when the rains are about, or dense fog and low cloud keeps others from this haunting amphitheatre. And it’s not surprising… The mass of rocks contort into the most beautiful and curious simulacra, which would not have gone unnoticed, nor deemed unimportant in the sacred landscape of our ancestors…
Brimham Rocks have been written about since the 17th century, though they didn’t receive the serious attention of outsiders until the 19th, when numerous Victorian writers — from antiquarians and geologists, to archaeologists and Druids — got to hear about the place. And by the beginning of the 20th century, a veritable mass of articles had been written in journals and travelogues of all persuasions! These quiet Yorkshire Rocks had become truly famous!
Brimham Rocks (Walbran 1856)Old Woman and her consort
A lengthy essay was written in the distinguished archaeology journal of its time, Archaeologia, by northern historian Hayman Rooke (1787), who thought that some of the rocks here had been tampered with by the druids; with the legendary Cannon Rock in particular possessing oracular properties. The site as a whole was, he posited, a temple for Druids in ancient days. Certainly the place would have been deemed as sacred, whether by the druids or our more remote neolithic and Bronze Age ancestors.
Harry Speight & his mates, c.1890
In Harry Speight’s magnum opus, Nidderdale (1894), he described these rocky giants as best as he could, admitting as others before and since, that no mere words can convey the impression that only a personal encounter liberates, saying:
“The Brimham Rocks are among the greatest natural wonders of Yorkshire, and many have been the theories from time to time advanced as to the cause of their extraordinary aspects… The resemblances to natural and artificial objects are most striking. There we have the Elephant Rock, the Porpoise Head, the Dancing Bear (a very singular, naturally-shaped specimen), the Boat Rock, showing the bow and stern completely, etc. Then there is the great Idol Rock, a most mysterious-looking object, of almost incredible size and form. It is a perfectly detached block, fully twenty feet high, weathered along face joints into three roughly circular pieces, each from 40 to 50 feet in circumference, piled one above the other; the whole mass, weighing by estimation over 200 tons, being poised on a pyramid 3½ feet in diameter; the pivot itself supporting this immense column having a diameter of barely 12 inches.
“East of the guide’s house are the famous Rocking Stones, consisting of a group of four rocks, which were discovered to be movable in the year 1786. The two on the west side weighing approximately 50 and 25 tons, require but little force to vibrate, while those on the east side, though much smaller are not so well poised and do not move readily. Each of the larger stones has a basin-like cavity on the top, and a kind of knee-hole open to the north, said to be the work of Druids. Close to the Rocking Stones are the appropriately-named Oyster-shell Rock, and the Hippopotamus’ Head. Turning now some thirty yards north of the Idol Rock we ascend Mount Delectable, where is the agreeable Courting or Kissing Chair, happily at not too close quarters with the above Hippopotamus’ Head and Boar’s Snout. The Chair consists of a single seat, but why it should be so called, I had better leave the amorous lover to solve. West of these is the more sober Druid’s Reading Desk, with its church-like lectern on a stout stone base. The we come to the Lover’s Leap, a gigantic and abrupt face of beetling crag, weathered to the west, and rising to a height of 60 to 70 feet, with three immense fragments balanced in a very remarkable manner at the summit. The rock is in tow principal sections, and an iron hand-rail has been fixed across the chasm to enable visitors to look down from the top. Further south are the Frog and Tortoise Rocks, the latter presenting from one point of view a capital resemblance to a tortoise creeping up the face of the crag towards the imaged frog. A little below this is a good imitation of a cannon, projecting from the edge of the cliff. In addition to these singular resemblances there are many others which the guide points out, such as the Yoke of Oxen, Mushroom Rocks, Druid’s Oven, Dog’s Head, Telescope, and the curiously perforated Cannon Rock, etc.”
In a later work, Speight (1906) also mentioned the existence of a Druid’s Circle some 300 yards west of the main natural temples, but this site appears to have been destroyed. Thankfully the large standing stone on Hartwith Moor, a mile to the south, can still be found upright…
Folklore
Idol Stone (Hargrove 1809)
In folklore, there’s little surprise this place was held by just about every 18th and 19th century historian as a ‘druidic site.’ But more interesting – in the light of Paul Devereux’s (2001) work on acoustic archaeology – is what Edmund Bogg (c.1895) said of these huge contorted stones:
“In bygone days these immense stones were supposed to be the habitation of spirits. The echo given from the rocks was said to be the voice of the spirit who dwelt there, and which the people named the Son of the Rocks. From a conversation we had with the peasantry not far from here, it seems the ancient superstition had not yet fully disappeared.”
This is precisely the notion of spirit given to rocky places elsewhere in the world, where the very echo was perceived as the ‘voice of the rocks’. Meditate on it a bit, in situ. (a fine summary of this notion and its implications — which has crept into archaeology of late — can be found in Paul Devereux’s work, Stone Age Soundtracks)
One of Brimham’s southwestern rocks was known as the Noon Stone when Mr Rooke (1787) came here. There are many stones with this name scattering Yorkshire and other northern counties, each with the same mythic background: that the sun casts a shadow from it at midday to indicate the time of day. Of this Noon Stone Mr Hooke also told us that,
“On Midsummer Eve fires are lighted on the side. Its situation is apposite for this purpose, being on the edge of a hill, commanding an extensive view. This custom is of the most remote antiquity.”
On the very southern edge of Brimham’s Rocks (some might say beyond their real border) is the Beacon Rock — and it is aptly named: as in the year 1887 on the day of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, a great beacon fire was lit here, signalling to others in the distance. Its title however, pre-dates Victoria’s Jubilee, though we don’t know how far back in time it goes…
…to be continued…
References:
Bogg, Edmund, From Eden Vale to the Plains of York, James Miles: Leeds c.1895.
Devereux, Paul, Stone Age Soundtracks: The Acoustic Archaeology of Ancient Sites, Vega: London 2001.
Grainge, William, The History and Topography of Harrogate and the Forest of Knaresborough, John Russell Smith: London 1871.
Harrison, William, A Descriptive Account of Brimham Rocks in the West Riding of Yorkshire, A. Johnson: Ripon 1846.
Michell, John, The Earth Spirit: Its Ways, Shrines and Mysteries, Thames & Hudson: London 1975.
Michell, John, Simulacra, Thames & Hudson: London 1979.
Rooke, Hayman, “Some Account of the Brimham Rocks in Yorkshire,” in Archaeologia journal, volume 8, 1787.
Speight, Harry, Nidderdale and the Garden of the Nidd, Elliot Stock: London 1894.
Speight, Harry, Upper Nidderdale, with the Forest of Knaresborough, Elliot Stock: London 1906.
Walbran, John Richard, A Guide to Ripon, Fountains Abbey, Harrogate, Bolton Abbey, etc, Johnson: Ripon 1856.
Follow the same directions to find the Blackheath Circle, but instead of turning onto the golf course, keep going up the steep road until you reach the T-junction at the top; then turn left and go along the road for about 200 yards, past the second track on the left, keeping your eyes peeled across the small moorland to your left where you can see the rocks rising up. Walk along the footpath towards them. You can’t really miss the place!
Archaeology & History
The Bride at sunset – the fallen Groom to her left
If you’re a heathen or geologist and you aint seen this place, check it out – you won’t be disappointed! First mentioned in 1491, this has always been a place of some repute. Its legendary companion, the ‘Groom’, lays resting on the Earth after being felled sometime in the 17th century.
F.A. Leyland’s 1860s drawing
A beautiful, remarkable and powerful site of obvious veneration. First described in local deeds as early as 1491, there are a great number of severely weathered boulders all round here, many like frozen rock giants haunting a magickal landscape. The modern lore ascribes the stones to be dedicated to Bride, goddess of the Brigantian people. And like Her legendary triple-aspect, we find here in the landscape a triple aspect to the outcrops themselves: to the west are the Bride Stones; to the east, the Little Bride Stones; with the Great Bride Stones as the central group, surveying everything around here.
At the main complex is what is singularly known as the Bride itself: a great smooth upright pillar of stone fourteen feet tall and nine feet wide at the top, yet only about two feet wide near its base, seemingly defying natural law. Watson (1775) described, next to the Bride herself, “stood another large stone, called the Groom…(which) has been thrown down by the country people” – probably under order of the Church. Crossland (1902) told how the Bride also acquired the title, “T’ Bottle Neck,” because of the stone’s simulacrum of an upturned bottle.
The Bride & her Groom (laid on the earth)The ‘head’ or top of the Bride Stone
Scattered across the tops of the many rocks hereby are many “druid basins” as Harland and Wilkinson (1882) described them. Many of these are simply basins eroded over the millenia by the natural elements of wind and rain. It is possible that some of these basins were carved out by human hands, but it’s nigh on impossible to say for sure those that were and those that were not. If we could find a ring around at least one of them, it would help — but in all our searches all round here, we’ve yet to locate one complete cup-and-ring. So we must remain sceptical.
On the mundane etymological side of things, the excellent tract by F.A. Leyland (c.1867) suggested the Bride Stones actually had nothing to do with any goddess or heathenism, but derived simply from,
“the Anglo-Saxon adjective Βñáð, signifying broad, large, vast — hence the name of the three groups known as the Bride Stones. The name of The Groom, conferred on the prostrate remains, appears to have been suggested by the fanciful definition of the Saxon Brád, as given by (Watson).”
However, the modern place-name authority A.H. Smith (1963:3:174) says very simply that the name derives from “bryd, a bride.”
A “rude stone” was described in one tract as being a short distance below this great rock outcrop; it was turned into a cross by the local christian fanatics and moved a few hundred yards west, to a site that is now shown on modern OS-maps as the Mount Cross.
Folklore
Although local history records are silent over the ritual nature of these outcrops, tradition and folklore cited by the antiquarian Reverend John Watson (1775) tell them as a place of pagan worship. People were said to have married here, although whether such lore evolved from a misrepresentation of the title, Bride, is unsure. In the present day though there have been a number of people who have married here in recent years.
If the Brigantian goddess was venerated here, the date of the most active festivities would have been February 1-2, or Old Wives Feast day as it was known in the north. The modern witches Janet and Stewart Farrar, who wrote extensively about this deity (1987), said of Bride: “one is really speaking of the primordial Celtic Great Mother Herself,” i.e., the Earth Mother.
Telling of further lore, Watson said that weddings performed here in ages past stuck to an age-old tradition:
“during the ceremony, the groom stood by one of these pillars, and the bride by the other, the priests having their stations by the adjoining stones, the largest perhaps being appropriated to the arch-druid.”
New Age author Monica Sjoo felt the place “to have a special and uncanny power.” This almost understates the place: it is truly primal and possesses the virtues of strength, energy, birth and solace.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Crossland, Charles, “Place-Names in the Parish of Halifax in Relation to Surrounding Natural Features,” in Halifax Naturalist, volume 7, 1902.
Farrar, Janet & Stewart, The Witches’ Goddess, Hale: London 1987.
Harland, John & Wilkinson, T.T., Lancashire Folklore, John Heywood: Manchester 1882.
Leyland, F.A., The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, by the Reverend John Watson, M.A., R.Leyland: Halifax n.d. (c.1867).
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 3, Cambridge University Press 1963.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
If you follow the directions to reach the Churn Milk Joan stone, then continue onto the moor following the same directions to find the Miller’s Grave, once you’ve reach this you’ll see a large rounded boulder a couple of hundred yards away on your left, to the northwest. That’s Robin Hood’s Penny Stone!
Archaeology & History
Robin Hood’s Pennystone, Midgley Moor
In terms of this site’s archaeology, it has none to write home about in official records (other than a few flints found nearby), but there’s more to this place than meets the eye. A large rounded boulder sat upon the moorland plain with a large Nature-worn bowl on its top, the site is some 112 yards (102m) northwest of the little-known, but impressive Miller’s Grave prehistoric cairn (close to being a midsummer/midwinter line). North and south of the rock are small lines of prehistoric walling — though their context is difficult to assess. The Greenwood Stone and Greenwood B stone can be found about 200 yards west.
Folklore
A singular footpath once led up to this old boulder, atop of which – in its large ‘bowl’ – vinegar used to be poured. In this, coins were left by local people who suffered the plague and in return food was left for them. And of course it is said that Robin Hood frequented the place in bygone times.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Robert, Andy, “Our Last Meeting,” in NEM 37, 1989.
Robert, Andy, Ghosts and Legends of Yorkshire, Jarrold: Sheffield 1992.
Best way here is, from Mytholmroyd go up the Cragg Vale road for a coupla miles, then turn right and heading down, then up, towards Withens Clough reservoir. Once there, walk onto the moor to your left (south) until you’re on the ridge above you. Keep walking until y’ see the rocky cairn-like creatures stood in isolation on a flat moorland plain.
Archaeology & History
Two Lads – on a dark, rainy, windy day
Truly weird spot this one, but I love it! Seemingly miles from anywhere, it’s one helluva walk to most folk, but utterly worthwhile when your arrive. On a clear day you can see for miles and the landscape is adorable! On a cloudy rainy day, the feel of the place changes if you take care to stay with the site, saturated, meditating (as no other people ever turn up when She’s like that – so you and the place get the best from each other!).
The site comprises of two boulders, each crowned with a cairn of stones. The westernmost one of the two (SD 98392 22111) is intriguing as it has, carved upon the rock beneath the stone cairn on the northwestern edge of the stone, what looks like a singular cup-marking, plus a large water-worn bowl on its northern edge, and a very distinct deeply-cut cross-base, several inches deep, near the northeastern corner of the rock. This cross-base seems slightly more rectangular in form than square; although the large covering of stones makes an accurate ascription difficult. If this cross-base and cup-markings are authentic, we would have here a clear example of the christianization of a previously heathen site.
A cursory examination of the easternmost of the Two Lads (SD 98397 22117) doesn’t indicate any artificial workings on the rock surface.
Two Lads on 1853 OS-map
Although the two ‘cairns’ on top of these two rocks are not prehistoric in nature, about 20 yards behind the Two Lads (south) may once have been the severely denuded remains of a once large prehistoric cairn. Although the position in the landscape is perfect for such a construction, this is somewhat tentative, it’s gotta be said! Further examinations are obviously necessary here.
The studious A.H. Smith (1961-63) believes that a field-name record from 1624, describing some ‘Lad Stones’ in the parish of Heptonstall relates to this site. We know with certainty however, that this site was first illustrated on Greenwood’s 1771 map of Yorkshire, then highlighted on more recent 19th century Ordnance Survey maps as ‘cairns.’
Folklore
Drawing of the Lads in 1877
The creation myth behind this place is that two lads were walking over the moor in midwinter and got caught in a blizzard. Losing all sense of visibility they tried to shelter from the wind and snow by hiding behind these rocks, but perished. Sometime later their bodies were found and the curious “cairn” of rocks were mounted onto the boulders to mark where they’d died. This is a folktale we find at many other old stone remains on the hilltops of northern England and Scotland.
The Two Lads seems to be very close to a midwinter alignment (or izzit a lunar standstill line?), linking it with the huge Rudstoop Standing Stone and, eventually, Robin Hood’s Penny Stone on Midgley Moor – which might be the root of the folktale. (i.e. midwinter, snow, death) Any archaeoastronomy buffs out there wanna check this one out? Then we can confirm or dismiss it.
References:
Anonymous, “The ‘Two Lads’, Withens Moor,” in Todmorden & Hebden Bridge Historical Almanack, T. Dawson: Todmorden 1877.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire, Cambridge University Press 1961-63.
Here we have another case of another loch in Scotland that was said by local people to be inhabited by legendary water monsters. In the tale which follows we may simply have a case of a very bad accident that was, in more superstious times, bestowed upon this legendary animal. We may never know. James Kennedy (1928) told the story, saying:
“It was inhabited, like Loch Derculich, by the ‘Each Uisge‘ of Icelandic origin. On summer evenings it could be seen roaming at large on a green meadow adjacent to the tarn, and to all appearance a canny enough creature. One summer Sunday afternoon, six Strathtay girls and a boy set out from their homes to inspect the ‘Each Uisge.’ They found him, patted him on the head and neck, and this kindness is apparently relished, for it lay on the sward and allowed them to sit on its back. The boy, who had a semi-bald scabbed head, stood at a distance and watched developments. He concluded that this animal was not the genuine horse it seemed to be, and thought that it grew considerably larger than it was at first. When the Each has the six girls comfortably seated on its back, it suddenly rose, plunged into the loch, and drowned the lot. The boy immediately took to his heels and the Each after him, but fear enabled the boy to outstrip the horse, who would stop now and again in the pursuit and cry, “Fuirich mo ghille maol carrach! Fuirich mo ghille maol carrach!” — Stop, you bald scabbed-headed boy. Ultimately the Each gave up the chase, and the boy, much frightened, got safely home and related all that happened on that eventful Sunday evening. The parents of the girls found parts of their bodies floating on the waters of the loch, and the name Loch Lassie was given to it, which it retains to this day.”
References:
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1928.
Although this upland loch is today renowned as little more than a decent fishing spot, the waters here were long known to be haunted and the abode of a legendary water spirit. In local tradition, the loch is said to be named after “an ancient Chief of Pictish origin” — whose burial mound is nearby — and in James Kennedy’s (1928) fascinating folklore work he also told that,
“Loch Dereculich was the habitation of a ‘Tarbh Uisge’ (water bull), the dangerous water demon… This dreaded monster, as the Norwegian peasant will gravely assure a traveller, demands every year a human victim, and carries off children who stray too near its abode… Less than one hundred and twenty years ago, the Loch Derculich Water Bull was seen sauntering along its shores. At peat-making times it was observed very frequently.”
References:
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1928.
