Cross Oak, Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire

Sacred Tree:  OS Grid Reference – SP 964 079

Archaeology & History

Location of the Cross Oak, shown on 1883 OS-map

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:

  1. Black, William G., Folk Medicine, Folk-lore Society: London 1883.
  2. Frazer, James G., The Scapegoat, MacMillan: London 1933.
  3. Jones-Baker, Doris, The Folklore of Hertfordshire, B.T. Batsford: London 1977.
  4. 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

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Crowan Cross, Kerrier, Cornwall

Cross (remains):  OS Grid Reference – SW 6456 3449

Getting Here

Photo from abaat 20yrs ago

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:

  1. Blight, J.T., Ancient Crosses and other Antiquities in the West of Cornwall, Simpkin Marshall: London 1858.
  2. Courtney, R.A., The Evolution of the Wheel Cross, Beare & Sons: Penzance 1914.
  3. Doble, Gilbert H., A History of the Parish of Crowan, King Stone Press: Shipston-on-Stour 1939.
  4. Langdon, Andrew, Stone Crosses in West Cornwall, Federation of Old Cornwall Societies 1999.
  5. Langdon, Arthur G., Old Cornish Crosses, Joseph Pollard: Truro 1896.

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Witch’s Stone, Bankfoot, Perthshire

Standing Stone:  OS Grid Reference – NO 04236 37526

Getting Here

Witch’s Stone, looking NW

Travel along the B867 road from Bankfoot to Dunkeld (running roughly parallel with the A9) and you’ll reach the hamlet of Waterloo about one mile north of Bankfoot.  As you approach the far end of the village, keep your eyes peeled for the small turning on your left and head up there for just over a mile.  The road runs to a dead end at Meikle Obney farm, but shortly before reaching there you’ll pass this large standing stone on the right-side of the road, just along the fence-line.  It’s almost impossible to miss!

Archaeology & History

This is one of “the large rude upright stones found in the parish” that William Marshall (1880) mentioned briefly, amidst his quick sojourn into the Druidic history of Perthshire.  It’s an impressive standing stone on the southern edges of the Obney Hills that doesn’t seem to be in its original position.  And it’s another one that was lucky to survive, as solid metal staples were hammered into it more than a hundred years ago when it was incorporated into the fencing, much like the massive Kor Stone 6½ miles south-west of here.

Site shown on 1867 map
Witch’s Stone at roadside

Shown on the first Ordnance Survey map of the area in 1867, its bulky 6½-foot-tall body stands all alone on this relatively flat plain, with open views to the east, south and west.  It gave me the distinct impression that it was once part of a larger megalithic complex, but I can find no additional evidence to substantiate this.  Call it a gut-feeling if you will.  Intriguingly, the closest site to this are two standing stones just out of view literally ⅔-mile (1.07km) to the northeast, aligned perfectly to the Witch’s Stone!  Most odd…

Folklore

The story behind this old stone is a creation myth that we find all over the country, but usually relating to prehistoric tombs more than monoliths.  The great Fred Coles (1908) wrote:

“the common legend is told of a witch who, when flying through the air on some Satanic behest, let the Stone fall out of her apron.”

References:

  1. Coles, Fred, “Report on Stone Circles Surveyed in Perthshire – North-eastern Section,” in Proceedings Society Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 42, 1908.
  2. Marshall, William, Historic Scenes in Perthshire, William Oliphant: Edinburgh 1880.
  3. Stewart, Elizabeth, Dunkeld – An Ancient City, Munro Press: Perth 1926.

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

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Hallyne, Peebles, Peeblesshire

Cup-and-Ring Stone (removed):  OS Grid Reference – NT 1872 4072

Archaeology & History

Included in the standard catalogues by Ronald Morris (1967; 1969), this carving was brought to light fortuitously by the local farmer who, thankfully, recognized its archaeological importance.  Etched into a small flat broken block of stone, he noticed a cup-marking and the remains of a triple-ring around it, with grooves running out from the central cup.  It was described in detail by the Royal Commission (1967) lads in their county survey where they told:

R.W.B. Morris’ 1967 photo

Hallyne carving in Peebles Museum

“During the excavations at the Roman fort at Lyne…in June 1959, a stone bearing cup-and-ring markings was found lying beside the fence that crosses the North Annexe.  According to local information it was found while ploughing in the field on the NE side of the fence.  It is a sandstone block, measuring 1ft 5in by one foot, and with an average thickness of 8in.  It is clearly a mere fragment of what must have been a larger slab, but it is impossible to estimate its original dimensions.  The markings consist of a single well-formed cup, 2in in diameter and three-quarters of an inch in depth, now partly surrounded by the broken arcs of three rings, which, if complete, would measures about 4in, 7in and 10in in diameter respectively.  The rings are all half an inch in width and one eighth of an inch in depth.  From the innermost ring two radial grooves, set one inch apart, extend outwards for a maximum distance of 4in.  They interrupt the two outer rings, which stop short on either side of them, leaving a gap of about half an inch.  The grooves are slightly narrower and shallower than the rings.  The whole symbol has been formed by the pecking technique and punchmarks are still remarkably fresh.  Outside the outermost ring there is a very shallow depression, one inch in diameter, which may be another cup-mark; in addition there are several recent scars caused by the plough.”

It was moved to the museum in Peebles shortly after being found and remains there to this day, apparently.  I’ve not seen it.

References:

  1. Morris, Ronald W.B., “The Cup-and-Ring Marks and Similar Sculptures of South-West Scotland,” in Transactions of the Ancient Monuments Society, volume 14, 1967.
  2. Morris, Ronald W.B., “The Cup-and-Ring and Similar Early Sculptures of Scotland; Part 2 – The Rest of Scotland except Kintyre,” in Transactions of the Ancient Monuments Society, volume 16, 1969.
  3. Morris, Ronald W.B., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Southern Scotland, BAR: Oxford 1981.
  4. Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, HMSO: Edinburgh 1967.

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

St. Cuthbert’s Well, Leith, Midlothian

Holy Well (destroyed):  OS Grid Reference – NT 2611 7600

Also Known as:

  1. Bonnington Mineral Well

Archaeology & History

Site shown on 1862 map

If we’d have lived 200 years ago and walked several miles downstream from St Bernard’s Well on the Water of Leith, we would have eventually come across this little-known sacred site, sadly destroyed in the 19th century.  It was shown on the earliest OS-map on the south-side of the river, enclosed in a small square building with what looks like two entrances, and what appears to be a covering of the spring on the southeast side.  Marked as a chalybeate, or iron-bearing well, this would have obviously have had repute amongst local people and would have worked as a tonic or pick-me-up, aswell as fortifying the blood and a having a host of other benefits.

The Ordnance Survey lads wrote short notes about St. Cuthbert’s Well in the Name Book of 1852-53, where they told:

“A Well Situated at Bonnington. Supposed to have been dedicated to St Cuthbert; about 34 years ago the proprietor repaired the well and at the same time erected a house over it, and fitted it up for Visitors who are charged one penny for a drink. The Water of the well has been analysed by Professor Jameson and Doctor Turner and it was found to Contain Salts of Iron; Soda, magnesia and Lime, also Iodine under the form of Hydrisdate of Potash.”

About the same time as Jameson & Turner’s analysis of St. Cuthbert’s waters, one Dr Edward Schweitzer (1845) wrote one of the most detailed chemical essays on wells, ever!—using Bonnington’s holy well as his primary focus.  A near-thirty-page essay found that, along with an excess of iron, the medicinal aspects of the waters were due to the following compounds found, per grains, in each pint of water:

Sulphate of Potassa — 2.46554 gr
Sulphate of Soda — 1.51227 gr
Sulphate of Lime — 6.28816 gr
Iodide of Sodium — 0.00728 gr
Bromide of Sodium — 0.07886 gr
Chloride of Ammonium — 9.49939 gr
Chloride of Sodium — 3.82963 gr
Chloride of Magnesium — 3.12017 gr
Nitrate of Soda — 2.02154 gr
Carbonate of Magnesia — 1.70443 gr
Proto-Carbonate of Iron — 0.05807 gr
Proto-Carbonate of Manganese — 0.01535 gr
Ammonia (united to organic matter) — 0.42285 gr
Alumina — 0.02245 gr
Silica — 0.18651 gr

In 1837, a Mr Robert Fergusson was known to be “the keeper of the Mineral Well, Bonnington,” but much of its traditions and history have fallen outside of memory.  The site was soon to become another mid-Victorian ‘Spa Well’, where local people would have to pay for water they had always used as Nature intended.  In truth, the waters and its well-house were to become a place where the rich Industrialists could heal their infirm mind-bodies, hoping that the destitution they lacked emotionally and spiritually would be washed away in the sacred waters.  But it didn’t last long!  What little is known about it historically was best described in John Russel’s (1933) essay on Bonnington in the Old Edinburgh Club journal.  He wrote:

“Just where the Bonnington mill lade joins the Water of Leith once flowed St. Cuthbert’s Well, an ancient spring named after the patron saint of the once extensive parish of St. Cuthbert’s, and like the now forgotten mineral well of St. Leonard’s near Powderhall, a relic of a superstitious age.  As to when this well was so designated history is silent but it was probably before 1606, when the Leith portions of Bonnington, Pilrig and Warriston were, by the Scots Parliament, included in the Parish of North Leith…

“In May, 1750 St. Cuthbert’s Well was found to be possessed of medicinal properties.  The Scots Magazine of that year refers to many persons frequenting it.  The Well formed part of a building which included a pump room and a reading room. From advertisements in the periodicals of 1819 we learn that it was open from 6 o’clock in the morning and that newspapers were to be found on the table all day. The tenant also issued handbills headed “St. Cuthbert’s Mineral Well, Bonnington”, giving a chemical analysis of the water and a list of the ailments for which it had been found beneficial. The Well disappeared with the re-construction of Haig’s Distillery in 1857. It now lies beneath the buildings immediately west of the chimney stack of Messrs John Inglis and Sons.”

St. Cuthbert’s feast day was March 20 (Spring Equinox) and September 4.

A half-mile southwest of here could once be seen the waters of St. Leonard’s Well, which Ruth & Frank Morris (1982) erroneously thought to have been this Well of St. Cuthbert.

References:

  1. Bennett, Paul, Ancient and Holy Wells of Edinburgh, TNA 2017.
  2. Geddie, John, The Water of Leith, W.H. White: Edinburgh 1896.
  3. Morris, Ruth & Frank, Scottish Healing Wells, Alethea: Sandy 1982.
  4. Rhind, William, Excursions Illustrative of the Geology & Natural History of the Environs of Edinburgh, John Anderson: Edinburgh 1836.
  5. Russel, John, “Bonnington: Its Lands and Mansions”, in Book of the Old Edinburgh Club, vol.19, 1933.
  6. Schweitzer, Edward G., “Analysis of the Bonnington Water, near Leith,” in Philosophical Magazine & Journal of Science, volume 24, 1845.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian

Stroness (3), Fowlis Wester, Perthshire

Cup-and-Ring Stone:  OS Grid Reference – NN 9285 2754

Getting Here

Stroness (3) stone

If you can make your way to the Stroness (2) carving, then walk down the slope for less than 50 yards past quite a few other earthfast stones, you’ll eventually run into the stone shown here in the photos.  You’ll find it easily enough.

Archaeology & History

This carving was found when I was heading down the hillside to meet up with my antiquarian colleague 500 yards lower down.  The sun was just setting, so visibility wasn’t good, but as I rushed from stone to stone feeling each one in the hope of finding a carving, this one gave my fingers that distinct feedback of a cup-marking; then another; and what seemed like another.  I had a small amount of water left in a bottle and quickly sprayed it over the surface of the stone and saw that there were indeed a number of cups on it.  Two or three certainly – but possibly as many as five.  I laid on the wet ground and looked across its even surface from several angles and caught what seemed to be a very faint semi-circle around one of the cups.  But I wasn’t sure it was real.  However, on a number of quick photos I took, several of them do appear to show such an arc around one of the cups.  But I’m very cautious about it.  Only when we (or you) go back up and have a look at it in good light will we be able to affirm or discount it.

One additional feature that needs mentioning is a small low arc of walling just above this stone.  It’s man-made, it’s very old, but I couldn’t work out what it might be: hut circle, cairn (there’s one further up the hill), enclosure walling.  I’m not sure, but it needs to be looked at when we have a full day.

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Stroness (2), Fowlis Wester, Perthshire

Cup-Marked Stone:  OS Grid Reference – NN 92774 27569

Also Known as:

  1. Buchanty Hill

Getting Here

Stroness (2), looking SW

The minor road that runs roughly north-south between the hamlets of Fowlis Wester and Buchanty is probably your best bet.  Nearly 2 miles north of the village up the tiny winding lane, where the moorland at the roadside finishes and the fields begin – is where to take the track, left, up onto the hillside.  But after just 75 yards, go left over the rickety-gate and follow the walling until your reach the burn.  Follow this up all the way to its source (it’s boggy as hell) and, once you’re there, walk due north for 250 yards until you reach a cluster of rocks.  Look around!

Archaeology & History

It’s a long way to come to see such a simplistic design —but for the real petroglyph researchers among you, it’s worth it the trek.  It’s had scant attention.  George Currie (2004) seems to have been the only person to mention this stone, giving the standard bland description typifying archaeology.  He wrote:

“SE-facing slope, 1.2m long pointed rock aligned E-W; three shallow cups, 30-40 x 6-10mm.”

Inspiring stuff, ey?!  Anyhow… As usual, there’s more to it than that.  If we assume that the carving described above is the same one I visited yesterday (Mr Currie’s grid-ref is slightly different), even despite the poor daylight, it was obvious there was more than three cup-marks on this.

Lower cups & upper cups

Cups on top

When I got to this stone, the evening sun was literally touching the horizon and so the light cutting across half the rock highlighted very little indeed.  I was rushing, trying to fondle and see as much as I could before the darkening sky clouded everything, and as I almost frenetically sprayed showers of water across its surface, the two or three cups that I could see near the crown of the stone suddenly doubled in number.  Two cups along one edge became three; whilst the sloping surface above these that had one cup suddenly seemed to have a companion.  On the highest part of this gently sloping stone, the form of one of the two distinct cup-marks that first caught my eye seemed to slowly morph into one of the carved “footprint” designs, akin to those clustered on the Ardoch (2) carving 1½ miles south-west of here.  However, this element needs looking at again, as it may have been a curious playful trick between stone and light showing me something that wasn’t there!  Things like that happen with stones.

Altogether there are at least six cup-marks on here, but perhaps as many as eight.  Obviously, if we (or you) visit the site when the light is much better, an even larger design might emerge from this old rock.

I spent perhaps just five minutes here, before heading back down to meet my companion 500 yards below in the midst of the boggy moorland.  Usually a carving gets my fondles for a an hour or two, but conditions weren’t good for us to form a healthy relationship. And so, as I headed downhill, another unrecorded cup-marked stone appeared beneath my rushing feet (Stroness [3] carving)— and I spoke with that for only a couple of minutes.  We need to come back up here and zigzag to find other companions that lay sleeping, forgotten for countless centuries…

References:

  1. Currie, George, ‘Buchanty Hill (Fowlis Wester parish): Cup-marked Rocks’, in Discovery & Excavation Scotland, volume 5, 2004.

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

St. Stephen’s Well, Banbury, Oxfordshire

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.”

References:

  1. Beesley, Alfred, The History of Banbury, Nichols & Son: London 1841.
  2. Eliade, Mircea, Shamanism – Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press 1964.
  3. Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
  4. 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

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Cairnfauld Field, Lilburn, Wooler, Northumberland

Cup-and-Ring Stone (lost):  OS Grid Reference – NU 013 264

Also Known as:

  1. Cairnfold Field

Archaeology & History

In James Hardy’s (1889) essay describing new archaeological finds from the Lilburn area, he told of seeing a triple-ringed petroglyph that seems to have been cast up from one of the cairns in the adjacent field.  I can find no other reference to this.  He wrote:

“On a wall top, near a gate not far from the Cairn-fauld’s field, lies a detached stone, supposed to have come from a cairn, with three circles and a hollow central cup incised on it, which no one  seems to care for.”

Does anyone know what has become of it?  Mr Hardy also described a series of other carvings a few fields away to the east, some with quite ornate cup-and-ring designs.  These have never subsequently been seen and remain hidden.

References:

  1. Hardy, James, “Further Discoveries of Pre-Historic Graves, Urns and other Antiquities, on Lilburn Hill Farm,” in Archaeoogia Aeliana, volume 13, 1889.

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

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian

Reva Hill (8), Hawksworth, West Yorkshire

Cup-Marked Stone:  OS Grid Reference – SE 152 434

Getting Here

Naathen… I’d give you the directions of how to find this stone, but I’m not sure of its precise location.  Just get to the top of Reva Hill, on its more westerly side, and it’s somewhere on its upper slopes.  I was up here again recently and hoped to find it, but the grasses might have grown back over it.  If one of you petroglyph fans manages to locate it, please can you send me its exact grid-reference, so I can update the site profile.

Archaeology & History

This was one in a cluster of carvings that were rediscovered in 2011 and which I’ve not managed to re-locate (bad boy).  It’s very plain and simple, as you can see.  Indeed, I was lucky to even notice it, as the central photograph above shows how faint and eroded the cup-marks are in normal light.  Thankfully with a bit of water, what I initially thought may have been two cup-marks, turned into three or four of them.  So the next time you’re having a look at the Fraggle Rock carving and its companions, remember that this little fella is hiding somewhere close by…

© Paul BennettThe Northern Antiquarian