Simply what the term suggests: upright singular or multiple sets of stones plonked there thousands of years back (traditionally betwixt neolithic to Iron Age) for various uses. Some relate to burial; others to land-markers (tribal boundaries, etc); some may be alignment-markers (solar and lunar); others simple meeting spots (moots). They are closely related to stone circles, tombs, and many of them are outliers to such sites.
In September, 1928, the old ley-hunter Alfred Watkins was out on one of his many rambles when he “saw a tall stone almost buried in the bank at this crossroads,” appropriately known as Picts Cross, about a mile south of Sellack — so he called it the ‘Picts Cross Stone.’ He also said,
“It was Pricker’s and Prick’s Cross in 18th century maps, and Pig’s Cross in the 1832 Ord. Map. Now ‘pig’ is the present Welsh word for “a peak, a point, a pike.””
And a lovely pointy old stone it looks in his old photo! The monolith is in the hedgerow along the old boundary line.
References:
Watkins, Alfred, The Old Standing Crosses of Herefordshire, Simpkin Marshall: London 1930.
Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – TM 052 809
Folklore
This slab of sandstone apparently used to stand upright in one of the fields of Oxfootstone Farm and on its surface is supposed to be the burnt impression of a cow’s hoof-print. Legend tells that there was a fairy cow which would come into the area when times of hardship occurred. During such periods she would freely give her milk to the people, but when the drought was over she stamped down on the stone upon which she stood, burning the imprint of her hoof onto it and magically vanished back from whence she came. A variation of the tale tells of a normal cow whose milk normally supplied the local villagers. But one night a drunken man (in another tale it is a witch) milked the cow dry through a sieve, until only blood came from her udders. At this point, the cow cried out in pain and kicked the stone so hard that she left the mark of her hoof-print on it.
Another tale tells that an ox got a large thorn stuck in its foot and rampaged through the local village, eventually stamping its hoof onto the stone so hard that it left the imprint of its foot here.
Now this might sound presumptious of me — but this tale has all the hallmarks of it being an old folk-remnant telling the origin of some cup-and-ring marked stone. We find a number of cup-and-rings with creation tales similar to this. Are there any local archaeologists or enthusiasts in Norfolk who might be able to locate any remains of this possible carved stone?
References:
Burgess, Michael W., The Standing Stones of Norfolk and Suffolk, ESNA 1: Lowestoft 1978.
Dutt, W.A., The Ancient Mark-Stones of East Anglia, Flood & Sons: Lowestoft, 1926.
A bittova wander with not much to see, if truth be had. Best way here’s from the top Oakworth Road heading to the Lancashire border, right on the moor-edge. Go along the Hare Hill Edge road for a coupla miles till you hit the Pennine Way. Walk along it up onto the moor, following the dead straight walling for several hundred yards. Where the walling stops, all of a sudden, stop! (there’s a wooden post here) Now walk left (west) across the heath for less than 100 yards. You’ll find it…
Archaeology & History
Old Bess Stone, with Crow Hill on the distant skyline
I’ve found nothing of this site in archaeology records – but that’s likely down to me not looking hard enough! I’m not even sure that it’s prehistoric – but as there’s nowt written about it, and there are other sites which relate to this old stone, it’s certainly worthy of mention.
The stone lays in the grasses, some four-feet long, with a more recent 18th-19th century boundary stone laid a few feet away. It seems most likely that Old Bess had stood here much longer though. Old Bess seems to be the first in a row of at least 6 seemingly unrecognized boundary stones running northwest in a straight line up to the Wolf Stones, about half-a-mile from here. Neither the early, nor modern OS-maps show any of these stones, several of which are accompanied by earlier, more worn stones – two of which have the letters ‘C.C.’ or ‘G.C.’ carved on them.
Old Bess ‘hut circle’ (it’s there – honest!)
About 10 yards north of Old Bess are the remains of a very noticeable oval-shaped ‘hut circle’ – or something closely resembling such remains. About five yards across at the most, with stone walling making up the edge of the ring beneath the moorland grasses, an excavation here wouldn’t go amiss! Although it’s hard to see in this photo (it’s the roughly circular rise in the middle), when you’re on the moor it’s obvious. It looks and feels as if the remains were something from medieval times, or perhaps even later – but it’d be good to know for sure! The remains of an old delph 100 yards south may account for more of Old Bess and its accompanying hut circle than owt prehistoric.
From Old Bess, walk in a straight line towards the large rock outcrop of the Wolf Stones, northwest of here. After a short distance you’ll come across another large stone, cut and shaped in bygone centuries (not prehistoric though) laying in the boggy tussock grass and looking similar to Old Bess. Another 100 yards on from here, along the same straight line towards the Wolf Stones, you’ll find another cut stone of similar dimensions; and from here you’ll see another stone about the same distance again ahead of you. These would appear to be the lost medieval boundary stones which led to a boundary dispute between the counties of Yorkshire and Lancashire a few centuries ago. For those medieval historians amongst you, check ’em out: it would appear that these are the lost stones (pushed over, obviously) which led to the said dispute. How on earth no-one’s found ’em previously beggars belief!
Folklore
A little-known site with a spirit ancestor giving rise to its name. Surrounding it are tales of little people, for just above it is where the faerie lived at the Fairy Fold Dike. While a couple of hundred yards west lived an old hob (another faerie creature) who used to drink from an old well named after him, the Hob Ing Spring. Victorian lore tells of druidic folklore further up the moor by the old Wolf Stones, which is linked to Old Bess by virtue of the line of old boundary stones running from here.
Marked on the earliest 6-inch Ordnance Survey map of this area (1875), this 4ft tall standing stone (now gone) once stood on the east bank of the River Euchar. The prehistoric cairn 400 yards to the west on the other side of the river would seem to have had some relationship with the stone, as they aligned to the equinoxes.
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – volume 2: Lorn, HMSO: Edinburgh 1974.
Seemingly destroyed, this carved standing stone was first described in Shaw’s Tourist Guide to the Isle of Man (1877), where he says it stood by the wall of the chapel, telling how it was “one of several stones inscribed with various designs and inscriptions.”
Hope that I’m wrong, but it seems like we’ve lost some more good old cup-and-ring art…
About a metre tall and found standing near the bottom of one of the fields diagonally across from the old farmhouse of Laverock Hall, here’s another old stone which may not have a prehistoric provenance. It is seemingly unknown by all but local people and would seem to be an old rubbing post for cattle — albeit a small one! There seems to be no written accounts of this stone; though until all of the local field-name maps have been checked, we can’t discount the possibility that this is the “standing stone” described in early place-name records that was mentioned by A.H. Smith in 1963.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 6, Cambridge University Press 1963.
Pretty easy to find. Go along the Oakworth-Wycoller road, between Keighley and Colne, high up on the moors. When you get to the Water Sheddles Reservoir right by the roadside (y’ can’t miss it), stop! On the other side of the road walk onto the moor, heading for the walling a coupla hundred yards to your east (right). Where the corner edge of the walling ends, your standing stone is right in front of you! If for some reason you can’t see it, wander about – though beware the very boggy ground all round here.
Archaeology & History
This seven-foot tall monolith, leaning to one side thanks to the regularly water-logged peat beneath its feet, stands on the Yorkshire-Lancashire. It is locally known as the Hanging Stone and the Standing Stone, but the name ‘Water Sheddles’ is a bittova puzzle. The place-names authority, A.H. Smith (1961) thinks it may derive from the middle-english word, shadel, being a ‘parting of the waters’ – which is pretty good in terms of its position in the landscape and the boggy situation around it. But ‘sheddle’ was also a well-used local dialect word, though it had several meanings and it’s difficult to say whether any of them would apply to this old stone. Invariably relating to pedlars, swindling or dodgy dealings, it was also used to mean a singer, or someone who rang bells, or a schedule, aswell as to shuffle when walking. Perhaps one or more of these meanings tells of events that might have secretly have been done here by local people, but no records say as such — so for the time being I’ll stick with Mr Smith’s interpretation of the word! Up until the year 1618 it was known simply as just a ‘standing stone’, when it seems that the words “Hanging Stone or Water Sheddles Cross” were thereafter carved on its west-face, as the photo below shows.
Cross carved on top of the stoneThe old stone, with its names carved for all to see
Whether or not this stone is prehistoric has been open to conjecture from various quarter over the years. Is it not just an old boundary stone, erected in early medieval times? Or perhaps a primitive christian relic? Certainly the stone was referred to as “le Waterschedles crosse”, as well as “crucem”, in an early record describing the boundaries of the parish of Whalley, dating from around the 15th century. This has led some historians to think that the monolith we see today is simply a primitive cross. However, sticking crosses on moortops or along old boundaries tended to be a policy which the Church adopted as a means to ‘convert’ or christianize the more ancient heathen sites. It seems probable in this case that an old wooden cross represented the ‘crucem‘ which the monks described in the early Whalley parish records.
Site marked on 1892 map
This monolith likely predates any christian relic that might once have stood nearby; although the carving of a ‘cross’ on the head of the stone may have supplemented the loss of the earlier wooden one. But it seems likely that this carved ‘cross’ was done at a later date than the description of the ‘crucem‘ in the parish records — probably a couple of centuries later, when a boundary dispute was opened, in 1614, about a query on the precise whereabouts of the Yorkshire-Lancashire boundary. After several years, as John Thornhill (1989) wrote,
“the matter was resolved on the grounds that the vast Lancastrian parish of Whalley had claimed territorial jurisdiction as far east as the Hanging Stone, thus the county boundary was fixed on the Watersheddles Cross.”
Water Sheddles stone looking SW
Certainly the stone hasn’t changed in the last hundred years, as we can tell from a description of it by Henry Taylor (1906), who said:
“The remains consist of a rough block of stone, leaning at an angle of about forty-five degrees against a projecting rock. The top end has been shaped into the form of an octagon, on the face of which a raised cross is to be seen. The stone is about six feet long and two feet wide, tapering to eleven inches square at the upper end, and appears once to have stood upright. Some local authorities have cut on it the words, ‘Hanging Stone or Waterscheddles Cross.'”
So is it an authentic prehistoric standing stone? Tis hard to say for certain I’m afraid. It seems probable – but perhaps no more probable than the smaller Great Moss Standing Stone found just a couple of hundred yards away in the heather to the west, on the Lancashire side of the boundary. Tis a lovely bitta moorland though, with a host of lost folktales and forgotten archaeologies…
Take the single-track country lane between Farnhill and Low Bradley until you reach Hamblethorpe farmhouse. Where the birch woodland is on the slope going uphill, the field on the other side of the road, protected by walling, is where the stones are, just south of the farmhouse. There’s nowhere to park any car hereabouts, so it’s best walking here.
Archaeology & History
It seems that nothing has previously been written of this place. Hidden away at the top of the field we find two curious-looking standing stones: one nearly six-feet tall, and its companion about four-feet. They’re near the bottom of the slope from the giant Round Cairn and Long Cairn tombs of Low Bradley Moor, several hundred yards to the east— and were it not for the fact that they have a distinctive Castlerigg-like appearance about them, perhaps I wouldn’t have given them a second chance. Curious earthworks are in the same field, to which written records also appear silent. Tis a lovely little spot…
The best way to get here it is to head from the Cow and Calf Hotel up the hillside to where the great rock is sticking out (the Pancake Stone). From here, head straight onto the moor toward the Idol Stone — close to the Idol Rock which you can see 400 yards south in front of you. From here, follow the footpath up the hill before you and keep on the path towards Lanshaw Lass. About 100 yards on, turn straight west into the heather and keep your eye towards the south. About 250 yards on, about 100 yards away from the Green Crag Top cup-marked boulder, you’ll see it!
Archaeology & History
One of very few solitary standing stones on Ilkley Moor, and one which I relocated after The Old Stones of Elmet (2001) had gone to press — which was a great pity. Nearly four feet tall, this is a good chunky monolith which stands close to being on line with the summer solstice alignment from the nearby Twelve Apostles stone circle. (I was gonna call it the Summer Stone, but thought better of it!)
There’s another recumbent stone, more than five feet tall when erected, 200 yards northwest of here. (This is also very close to being in line with with our chunky monolith, plus the Twelve Apostles. Anyone out there with a GPS who can check if this possible alignment is the last remnant of a summer solstice stone row? It probably isn’t, but it’d be good to find out.) On the same moorland level, heading back down, when the heather’s burnt back you’ll find a number of prehistoric tombs along the edge of the ridge. These don’t appear to be in the archaeological registers.
A half-mile south of the superb Brimham Rocks complex, take the straight road south until you hit the second farmhouse (and accompanying caravans). Go up the public footpath past Highfield Farm and just check with the landowner’s permission to wander his land if you want to see the stone. They’re OK about it if you ask. The lady there is very amiable and will tell you what’s what, giving directions right to it, telling us it was off the footpath in the middle of one of his fields.
Archaeology & History
Archaeology texts are, once more, silent about this stone (and other monuments in the region), making you wonder just what the hell some of them are paid for! The stone appears to have given its name to the land upon which it stands which, as the locals tell, “has always been known as standing stone hill.” And no wonder — it’s a bloody decent standing stone! On its northern face we find well-eroded lines running down the stone, similar to the weathering found on the Devil’s Arrows a few miles to the east.
Standing Stone Hill stoneLooking south
Although just over 6-feet tall, this is a solid bulky old fella. But the spot he presently occupies isn’t his original standing place. He was found knocked over and lying on the ground in the middle of the 20th century, slightly out of position. But he was thankfully stood back upright by the local land-owners sometime in the 1960s, where he’s been stood ever since. It must have been one helluva job! And making it more difficult was the intriguing geological nature of the Earth right beneath this field. As the lady who now own the land told us,
“When the fields were tilled we found that all of them were easy to turn over, except the one with the stone in it! There’s virtually no soil of any depth to write home about,” she said. “It stands on only a few inches of soil and then you hit solid rock right underneath it. All the other fields are OK – but this one’s the odd one out.”
And before the fields were farmed, just over a hundred years ago, all this land was covered in moorland heather. Then the land was enclosed, the Earth’s heathland stripped out of existence and turned over to agriculture. But thankfully the standing stone was left here. It makes you wonder what else was destroyed when the moorlands were industrialised…
The stone does get a brief mention in Boughey & Vickerman’s (2003) Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, where they mention there being “three possible cups in (a) line on one side” of the standing stone, but these are little more than Nature’s handiwork and nowt else. There are a couple of other cup-and-rings nearby which are the real thing – but the ‘cups’ on this stone aint man-made.
