Dead easy to find. Get into the centre of the lovely little town centre of Kincardine, down High Street, and there upon its steps at the roadside, you can’t miss the it!
Archaeology & History
A few days ago when I came to have a look at this old cross (17th century according to the Royal Commission) it was surrounded by protective railings while some work was being done in the town centre. Thankfully it was a glorious bright day and allowed for some good photos!
It is a typical mercat cross, as Mair (1988) called them: a stone pillar, mounted on steps, with some sort of crowning edifice on top. The monument was described in the Royal Commission (1933) report of the region, where they wrote:
“The market cross stands at the southern end of High Street and consists of an octagonal shaft with moulded base and capital, placed on a rise of six octagonal steps, having a spread of 14½ feet. Above the square abacus is a stone sculptured with the arms of the Earls of Kincardine on the one side and a thistle ornament on the other. The arms are: Quarterly, 1st and 4th, a lion rampart; 2nd and 3rd, a saltire and chief. The shield is flanked by two men in armour as supporters, is surmounted by a coronet and helm, mantled and wreathed, and has for crest a naked arm, flexed, issuing out of a cloud and holding a man’s heart. The cross must be later than 26 December, 1647, when the Earldom was created.”
References:
Beveridge, David, Culross and Tulliallan: Its History and Antiquities – 2 volumes, William Blackwood: Edinburgh 1885.
Mair, Craig, Mercat Cross and Tolbooth, John Donald: Edinburgh 1988.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the Counties of Fife, Kinross and Clackmannan, HMSO: Edinburgh 1933.
Small, John W., Scottish Market Crosses, Eneas Mackay: Stirling 1900.
This long-lost medieval ornamented cross, found not far from the legendary Grope Cunt Lane (I kid you not) was located close to the middle of old Shrewsbury town, “at the junction of Pride Hill, Castle St and St. Mary’s St,” according to the 1902 OS-map of the region.
Although Shrewsbury’s High Cross is believed to have been built in the 12th or 13th century, we don’t know for sure when it was first erected — and indeed, written records of the place don’t appear to begin until the year 1557, where it was described as the ‘Hye Crosse.’ A few years later in the Parish Registers for the Lichfield diocese, dated 1590, the monument was mentioned again as ‘the Highe Crosse’; and subsequent accounts of it are found in various local history accounts from 1695 to 1799.
The site was named as the Butter Cross in street-name listings of 1804, telling it as a site where this food was sold and we know that the High Cross was the centre of a local market and social gathering place in previous centuries. Gelling (2004) told that “the medieval cross was taken down in 1705, but the name continued to be applied to structures which replaced it, and which were used as a market place for dairy produce.”
In earlier times, the High Cross is said in legend to have been where executions were enacted. Alfred Rimmer (1875) narrates the oft-told tale of those who died here, saying:
“The High Cross of Shrewsbury has long been destroyed, but its place is pointed out in old documents. Unhappily, it is not connected with pleasant associations, for before it the last of the British princes, David, a brother of Llewellyn, was cruelly put to death by Edward I; and at a later period many of the nobility who were taken at the battle of Shrewsbury were there executed, the High Cross being considered the most appropriate place for such a spectacle.”
The prince that Rimmer mentions was Dafydd III, the last prince of Wales, executed in the year 1283.
References:
Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Shropshire – volume 4, EPNS: Nottingham 2004.
Hobbs, J.L., Shrewsbury Street Names, Wilding & Son: Shrewsbury 1954.
Rimmer, Alfred, Ancient Stone Crosses of England, Virtue: London 1875.
A little-known early christian relic found in the driveway to East Riddlesden Hall was saved and propped up in the stable floor at the back. In 1984 however, the National Trust got round to moving it and bringing the relic to greater public attention by putting it on display in the great hall of the building. (I think you’ve gotta pay to go in and see the stone these days – which is a bittova pain if you just want to examine the carving)
Old photo of the carved stone (after Margaret Faull)
Measuring just 1 foot across and 2 feet high and carved on all sides, the design is all too familiar to those of you exploring early christian or late-Celtic art forms. Executed sometime between the 5th-10th century, on the main face of the cross we have the traditional ‘Celtic’ interlacing, with a bird-figure emerging on or around an early ‘cross’ symbol. There are a variety of interpretations of this, but none relate to any modern christian mythic structures. Indeed, we should cautiously reflect on the more pre-christian nature of this design: carved as it was at a time when the spirit of the natural world (animism) was endemic amongst all people. This carving would in some way reflect such implicit subjectivity, though perhaps have had emergent ideals relevant to the christian cult within it. However, we should be cautious about this christian idea, despite it being much in vogue by prevailing groups of consensus trance historians.
References:
Faull, Margaret L., “The Display of the Anglo-Saxon Crosses of the Keighley Area,” in Transactions of the Ancient Monuments Society, New Series no.30, 1986.
From Alloa head east along the A907 road and park up at Morrison’s supermarket a half-mile on. From here, keep walking along the same road, but make sure you go on the dirt-track running parallel with the main road, and which runs alongside the field in which this monument is clearly visible. Just make sure you only visit it when the crops aren’t growing (between September through to April is OK).
Archaeology & History
This is a highly impressive monument, but I for one doubt that it has a wholly christian origin… The fact that a stone circle was on the same ridge totally visible a couple of hundred yards away, and a cluster of Bronze Age cairns immediately west, adds to my doubt; along with the sheer size of this thing trying to grab attention to itself. You’ll have to visit it yourself and see what I mean.
The stone was first described in the Old Statistical Account of the area in 1795, and it told:
“About a mile east of the town, there is a large upright stone, 7 feet 4 inches above the surface of the ground. It is three feet broad, and thought to be very deep in the Earth. The old people used to speak of the figure of a man on horseback, which they had seen on it. If any thing of that kind, or letters (as it is said), have been formerly observed, they are now totally effaced.”
However, in a footnote to this entry, it was said that,
“when the adjacent farm was enclosing, upwards of 20 years ago, a ditch was made close to the stone, when many human bones were discovered; which proves that a battle or skirmish had some time or other taken place near that spot; and probably some man of eminence was buried hard by, as it was a common practice of the Picts on such occasions. There are two stones resembling this one, in the neighbouring parish of Alva, at no great distance from the church, but not close to one another. They are both near the foot of the Ochils.”
It seems most probable that this great cross-carved monolith had some relationship to our heathen mythic history—an idea which has been put forward by others historians in bygone times. In Daniel Wilson’s (1851) huge work, he told us:
“On ground about half a mile to the east of the town of Alloa, called the Hawkhill, is the large upright block of sandstone sculptured with a cross which is represented in the annexed engraving. It measures ten and a quarter feet in height, though little more than seven feet are now visible above ground. A similar cross is cut on both sides of the stone, as is not uncommon with such simple memorials. During the progress of agricultural operations in the immediate vicinity of this ancient cross, in the spring of 1829, Mr. Robert Bald, C.E., an intelligent Scottish antiquary, obtained permission from the Earl of Mar to make some excavations around when, at about nine feet north from the monumental stone, a rude cist was found, constructed of unhewn sandstone, measuring only three feet in length, and at each end of the cover, on the under side, a simple cross was cut. The lines which formed the crosses were not rudely executed, but straight and uniform, and evidently finished with care, though the slab itself was unusually rude and amorphous. The cist lay east and west and contained nothing but human bones greatly decayed. Drawings of the cross and a plan of the ground, executed by Mr. Bald, are in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries. Here we possess a singularly interesting example of the union of Christian and Pagan sepulchral rites: the cist laid east and west, according to the early christian custom, yet constructed of the old circumscribed dimensions, and of the rude but durable materials in use for ages before the had superseded the aboriginal Pagan creeds.”
Old drawing of the site (after Wilson 1851)Hawk Hill Cross, looking north
A few years later there was another account of this cross published in the Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland (1889), echoing much of what Wilson described, telling of the discoveries of many human remains found hereby. And when the Royal Commission (1933) account of the place was written after their inspection team visited the site in 1925, they told:
“This slab…is set up on a knoll about 200 yards south of the main roadway between Alloa and Clackmannan and about midway between the site of the (Hawk Hill) cairn…and that of the (Hawk Hill) stone circle… It is packed round the base with fairly large stones and stands with its broad faces east and west. A cross of Celtic form is incised on both sides, the incisions being about half an inch in depth. On the east face the shaft is made to spring directly from a base, without the intervention of a basic line. The design on the west face is similar, but the shaft here has been almost entirely obliterated by weathering. The slab is 8 feet in height, 2 feet 7½ inches in width at the base, and 9 inches in thickness.”
Notice that the more recent accounts don’t mention the horse carving: an intriguing element which was however mentioned in some early local history works of the place. Indeed, some postulate that this may have Pictish origins. They may be right. As local historian T.C. Gordon (1937), told,
“that the old people of the parish could remember seeing on the soft surface of the stone the figure of a man on horseback.”
Cross on the east faceCross on the west face
On the day I visited this stone I couldn’t make out any carved horse, but it seemed that something may once have been carved near the bottom the western face…perhaps… One writer also suggested that the nearby place-name of Gaberston may have related to this stone cross, with the word literally meaning ‘The Pillar Stone of Brath (Brude),’ which as Mr Gordon said, thus provides “the link between the stone and (the Pictish leader) Brude, and this link is strengthened when we remember that the burn that runs through Alloa is called ‘the Brathy Burn.’”
The possible Pictish motifs of a horseman were mentioned again in a letter from the local County Planning Officer to the Alloa County Clerk in 1971, along with a recommendation that the cross be removed and placed into a museum to prevent further weathering and erosion. Thankfully this suggestion was not followed through and the cross remains where it belongs: in its position in the landscape to beguile and intrigue us over its hidden commemorative past. Long may it remain upon its hill.
A very impressive site indeed…
Folklore
Thought locally to have played a part on an alignment or ley line with a little-known Druid Stone by the roadside in Alloa, the Hawk Hill cairn, and Hawk Hill stone circle to its east. The historian T.C. Gordon (1937) told that the cross marked the site where the Picts fought against the Saxons, saying:
“We know that Finguine, son of Deleroith, died in that battle in 711 AD, and maybe Brude too. A stone cross still marks the place at Hawkhill.”
References:
Gordon, T. Crouther, A Short History of Alloa, Alloa Advertiser 1937.
Lothian, James, Alloa and its Environs, Alloa Advertiser 1861.
Miller, Peter, “Notices of the Standing Stones of Alloa and Clackmanan,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 23, 1889.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the Counties of Fife, Kinross and Clackmannan, HMSO: Edinburgh 1933.
Wilson, Daniel, The Archaeology and Prehistoric Annals of Scotland, Sutherland & Knox: Edinburgh 1861.
Take the road from Fortingall into the Glen. About 4 miles down, past the farmhouse of Slatich, then Craigianie, watch carefully as you round the small bend in the road, where you’ll see a small standing stone on top of a rounded mound, right by the south side of the road, just over the fence. Go through the gate to enter the field less than 100 yards further on and walk back onto the hillock.
Archaeology & History
In this magnificent landscape down the longest of Scotland’s glens, standing atop of a knoll known as Tom a’ Mhoid, or “the moot hill” (Watson 1926), is this small standing stone about 4 feet tall which has long been ascribed as an important relic of the early christian period. They may be right – but it could as much be a more archaic monolith, onto which the carved crosses on either side of the stone were later etched, in the light of the myths of St. Adamnan whose name scatters this great glen and after the legend cited below was ascribed to him.
Close-up, showing large cross
The stone ‘cross’ stands atop of what at first sight seems a natural knoll; but all round it we find an excess of man-made remains and walling, all but constituting the hill itself. These are clearly visible on the aerial imagery of GoogleEarth. Antiquarian dogs here would be invaluable to ascertain the correct age and nature of the structures around this ‘cross’.
Faint cross near top of stone
Of the crosses carved onto the stone: the one on the southern face is a small faint one near the top of the upright; whilst the other is much larger and is easily visible, cutting right across the northern face of the monolith. They are clearly of differing styles and would seem to have been carved by different people, perhaps a few centuries apart. Curiously—as Marion Woolley pointed out—the smaller, fainter cross is carved above a ridge on the upright stone, mimicking the position of the stone on the knoll in its landscape setting. Whether this is just a coincidence, or has been done on purpose, we might never know.
In Duncan Fraser’s (1969) excellent local history work, he names the stone here Eonan’s Cross and he too strongly suspects “the stone itself was probably erected at least a thousand years earlier” than the coming of the saint, making this a christianized standing stone – which it certainly looks like. Mr Fraser said that,
“His cross stone, we can be fairly sure, was a Bronze Age standing stone long before it acquired its unusual cross.”
He may well be right…
Folklore
The mythic history of this cross-marked standing stone was told eloquently in one of Hilary Wheater’s (1981) fine short works. After giving a brief story of the tale of St. Adamnan, she went on to tell:
“A terrible plague swept through Scotland in the seventh century. It reached the Vale of Fortingall and so violent was its ravages that all the inhabitants were wiped out. Slowly the sickness began to infiltrate the Glen and in a panic the people of Glenlyon went to their preacher and beseeched him, “Eonan of the ruddy cheeks, rise and check the plague of thy people. Save us from the death and let it not come upon us east or west.”
“Adamnan rose to the occasion and gathered the people of the Glen to a hillock where he usually preached to them. In a house not forty yards away it is said that a child was already dying of ‘the Death.’
“There on the rock, with the people gathered round him, Adamnan prayed. When he was finished he raised his right arm, exhorted the devil body of the pestilence to come to him and, pointing to a large round rock lying on the ground, ordered the plague to enter it. A large circular hole appeared in the rock as the plague bored into it and Adamnan followed up this apparent miracle by the very sensible act of sending all the healthy people of the Glen up to the shielings until all signs of the pestilence disappeared…
“Thus were the people of the Glen saved from the plague. When they came back from their mountain retreat they erected a stone slab with two crosses on it to commemorate their deliverance. The rock itself they called Craig-diannaidh, the ‘rock of safety’, and the round stone with the hole through which the plague descended into the bowels of the Earth lies to this day at the side of the road near the stone slab.”
Adamnan’s Cross
The rocky slope immediately above the stone, on the other side of the road, was once the home of an old urisk who, sadly, long-since left the area – though his spirit can still be felt there. Accounts of many other supernatural creatures are found scattering this part of Glen Lyon…
References:
Barnett, T. Ratcliffe, The Road to Rannoch and the Summer Isles, Robert Grant: Edinburgh 1924.
Fraser, Duncan, Highland Perthshire, Standard Press: Montrose 1969.
Watson, W.J., The history of the Celtic Place-Names of Scotland, Edinburgh 1926.
Wheater, Hilary, Aberfeldy to Glenlyon, Appin: Aberfeldy 1981.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Massive thanks to Marion—”I don’t have a clue where I am!”—Woolley, for getting us here….and for her photo of the faint cross, above.
Once found on the other side of the road from the prehistoric circle of Acrehowe Hill, this old cross was destroyed sometime in the first half of the 19th century by one of the stewards to the Lady of the Manor of Baildon, a Mr Walker. It’s unlikely that Mr Walker would have performed this act without direct orders from the Lady of the Manor, so the destruction should really be laid at the feet of the land-owner, who’ve got a habit of destroying archaeological sites up and down the land, even today.
Found near the crown of a small hill on the horizon whether you’re coming from Eldwick- or Baildon-side, the cross was erected (probably between the 12th and 14th centuries) amidst a cluster of heathen burials and cup-and-rings, many of which would have been known by local peasants as having old lore or superstitions about them. So the church commandeered this spot, desacralized it and no doubt enacted profane rites around it under the auspice of some spurious christian law. They did that sorta thing with every non-christian site they ever came across—or simply vandalised it, much as many of them still do today. Sadly we know not the exact history of the old cross: whether it was an old standing stone on the crown of this hill which they defaced and made into a cross, or whether they erected their own monument, we’ll never know. But the idea of a once-proud monolith standing here is a strong possibility, considering its position in the landscape and the stone rings of Pennythorn and Acrehowe close by (cup-and-ring stones such as carving no.184 are also close by).
The cross itself once gained an additional incorrect title by the cartographers of the period, who named it Rerehowe Cross—but this was simply a spelling mistake and its newly-found title didn’t last long. The local industrial historian William Cudworth (1876) described the lost cross in his large work, where he told that,
“many of the inhabitants can remember and point out the exact spot where it stood, and no doubt could find some of the stones of which it was composed. It was destroyed by one of the overseers and a large portion of it used for fence stones.”
Harry Speight (a.k.a. ‘Johnnie Gray’) and others also mentioned the passing of this old stone, but give no additional information.
Folklore
In William Cudworth’s description of this site he told how “the village tradition is that it was put up in commemoration of a great battle that was fought on the Moor” at Baildon; but W.P. Baildon (1913) thought this was unlikely. Instead, he cited an 1848 Name Book reference dug out by W.E. Preston, which told that on the summit of Acrehowe Hill,
“Here stood a cross which, according to traditional evidence was erected at the period that markets were held at Baildon, in consequence of a plague which prevented the country people from visiting the village with provisions, etc. The site of its base is very apparent, being circular, about 8 feet in diameter. A large flag stone with the stump of the cross remaining in its centre, was pulled up and destroyed by Mr Walker (Baildon Hall) a few years since.”
References:
Baildon, W. Paley, Baildon and the Baildons (parts 1-15), St. Catherines: Adelphi 1913-26.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Colls, J.M.N., ‘Letter upon some Early Remains Discovered in Yorkshire,’ in Archaeologia, volume 31, 1846.
Cudworth, William, Round about Bradford, Thomas Brear: Bradford 1876.
Gray, Johnnie, Through Airedale from Goole to Malham, Walker & Laycock: Leeds 1891.
On the A65 road from Skipton to Gargrave, just at the eastern end of Gargrave, take the small Eshton Road running north over the canal. Go through Eshton itself, making sure you bear right at the small road a few hundred yards past the old village. Keep your eyes peeled a few hundred yards down as you hit the river bridge and stop here. Just 50 yards before this is a parking spot where some Water Board building stands. Walk back up the road barely 20 yards and you’ll see, right by the roadside, a small clear pool on your left, encircled by trees. Go through the little stile here and you’re right by the water’s side!
Archaeology & History
This is actually a listed monument (unusual for wells up North!), just off the roadside between Nappa Bridge and Eshton Hall. Two or three old stone heads (deemed to be ‘Celtic’ in age and origin, though I had my doubts) have recently been stolen from this holy pool close to where the water emerges from the ground, just beneath the surface. You can see where the water bubbles up strongly from the Earth when you visit here, forming the small pool in front of it, around which at certain times of year people still attach ‘memaws’ (an old word for ritual ‘offerings’) on the small shrubs. If you drink from here, just where the water bubbles up (careful not to fall in!), it’s freezing — but tastes absolutely gorgeous! And better than any tap-water you’ll ever drink!
Mentioned briefly in Mr Hope’s (1893) fine early survey; the earliest description of this site in relation to the mythic ‘Helen’ dates from 1429, where T.D. Whitaker (1878) described the dedication to an adjacent chapel, long gone. Whitaker’s wrote:
“…One of the most copious springs in the kingdom, St. Helen’s Well fills at its source a circular basin twenty feet in circumference, from the whole bottom of which it boils up without any visible augmentation in the wettest seasons, or diminution in the driest. In hot weather the exhalations from its surface are very conspicuous. But the most remarkable circumstance about this spring is that, with no petrifying quality in its own basin, after a course of about two hundred yards over a common pebbly channel, during which it receives no visible accession from any other source, it petrifies strongly where it is precipitated down a steep descent into the brook. To this well anciently belonged a chapel, with the same dedication; for in the year 1429, a commission relating to the manor of Flasby sat “in capella beate Elene de Essheton; and on the opposite side of the road to the spring is a close called the Chapel Field. This was probably not unendowed, for I met with certain lands in Areton, anciently called Seynt Helen Lands.”
When the old countryman Halliwell Sutcliffe (1939) talked of this healing spring, his tone was more in keeping with the ways of local folk. Sutcliffe loved the hills and dales and old places to such an extent that they were a part of his very bones. And this comes through when he mentions this site. Telling where to find the waters, he continued:
“Its sanctuary is guarded by a low mossy wall. Neglected for years out of mind, it retains still clear traces of what it was in older times. An unfailing spring comes softly up among stones carved with heart-whole joy in chiselling. Scattered now, these stones were once in orderly array about what is not a well, in the usual sense, but rather a wide rock-pool, deep here and shallow there, with little trees that murmur in the breeze above. Give yourself to this place, frankly and with the simplicity is asks. It does not preach or scold, or rustle with the threat of unguessed ambushes among the grassy margin. Out of its inmost heart it gives you all it knows of life.”
Old well in the field
In the field across the road where the chapel was said to have been, we find another stone-lined fresh-water well bubbling from the ground into a stone trough (at grid-ref SD 93118 56958). The waters here are also good and refreshing. But whether this fine water source had any tales told of it, or curative properties (it will have done), history has sadly betrayed its voice.
Folklore
The waters here have long been reputed as medicinal. R.C. Hope (1893) said “this well was a certain cure for sore and weak eyes.” Whitaker and others told there to be hangings of rags and other offerings (known in Yorkshire as ‘memaws’). Sutcliffe described,
“The pilgrims coming with their sores, of body and soul… The Well heard tales that were foul with infamies of the world beyond its sanctuary. Men came with blood-guilt on their hands, and in their souls a blackness and a terror. Women knelt here in bleak extremity of shame. The Well heard all, and from its own unsullied depths sent up the waters of great healing. And the little chant of victory began to stir about the pilgrims’ hearts…and afterwards the chant gained in volume. It seemed to them that they were marching side by side with countless, lusty warriors who aforetime had battled for the foothold up the hills. And, after that, a peace unbelievable, and the quiet music of Helen’s Well, as her waters ran to bless the farmward lands below. All this is there for you to understand today, if you will let the Well explain the richness of her heritage, the abiding mystery of her power to solace and to heal.”
And so it is with many old springs… The rite of memaws enacted at St. Helen’s Well is a truly archaic one: whereby a person bringing a cloth or stone or coin — using basic principles of sympathetic magick — asks the spirit of the waters to cleanse them of their illness and pass it to the rags that are tied to the adjacent tree; or perhaps some wish, or desire, or fortune, be given in exchange for a coin or something if personal value. The waters must then be drunk, or immerse yourself into the freezing pool; and if the person leaving such offerings is truly sincere in their requests, the spirit of the water may indeed act for the benefit of those concerned.
Such memaws at St. Helen’s Well are still left by local people and, unfortunately, some of those idiotic plastic pagans, who actually visit here and tie pieces of artificial material to the hawthorn and other trees, which actually pollutes the Earth and kills the spirit here. Whilst the intent may be good, please, if you’re gonna leave offerings here, make sure that the rags you leave are totally biodegradable. The magical effectiveness of your intent is almost worthless if the material left is toxic to the environment and will certainly have a wholly negative effect on the spirit of the placehere. Please consider this to ensure the sacred nature of this site.
…to be continued…
References:
Hope, Robert Charles, Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England, Elliott Stock: London 1893.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire– volume 6, Cambridge University Press 1961.
Sutcliffe, Halliwell, The Striding Dales, Frederick Warne: London 1939.
Whelan, Edna, The Magic and Mystery of Holy Wells, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Whelan, Edna & Taylor, Ian, Yorkshire Holy Wells and Sacred Springs, Northern Lights: Dunnington 1989.
Whitaker, T.D., The History and Antiquities of the Deanery of Craven, Joseph Dodgson: Leeds 1878.
As with many old churches, St. James’ at the northern side of the village has remains of old cross fragments that can be seen inside. They were described at some length in W.S. Calverley’s (1899) excellent work on such monuments. Mr Langham (1972) also gave a good account of the respective cross fragments in his short work on this history of the church, listing the sections as a, b, c, d and e. He wrote:
“a) the greater part of a wheel-head, the reverse side of which has a sunk centre instead of a raised boss, making it a five hole cross. Calverley remarks, “a rarity in the district.”
“b) probably the top of a shaft having on its face a panel with a defaced figure, and conventional ornaments on the side.
“c) probably the lower part of a shaft with figures in two panels, and with incised interlacing designs on the reverse side “of late Scandinavian type, resembling fibulae of the Viking Age.” On the face, the lower panel is Christ risen or rising from the tomb. He is trampling on a serpent and carries a palm of victory in his left hand. The panel above has two figures, suggested by Calverley to be “either John or Mary, or two angels.”
“d) the neck of a cross. Calverley notes that the execution of the wheel-head and the shaft-fragments was by a hacking not a chiselling method, and he makes the comment: “The shafts and head at Burton are similar in workmanship to those at Halton. The Halton crosses and not Norse in style, but are like late pre-Norman work in Yorkshire, where the Danes lived.”
“e) a part of a second shaft with a zigzag pattern. Calverley says that “it is neatly chiselled, and the designs suggests a Norman date, although it seems to belong to a cross of Saxon type.” The Royal Commission volume dates it as the 10th or 11th century.”
St James church cross (by M.D.S. Brown-Smith)
The Royal Commission volume dates the cross shafts as “probably late 10th century.” Sir Nikolaus Pevsner in a recent book, Guide to Cumberland and Westmorland states specifically that, “Christ, the Virgin and St. John are on the Burton-in-Kendale cross.” This is too explicit a statement in view of the deterioration in the detail.
Nearby to the northeast used found to be the remains of a holy well dedicated to St. Helen. Does anyone have further information about it?
References:
Calverley, W.S., Notes on the Early Sculptured Crosses, Shrines and Monuments in the Early in the Present Diocese of Carlisle, T. Wilson: Kendal 1899.
Langham, John G., Parish Church of St. James, Burton-in-Kendal, Mayoh Press: Carnforth 1972.
Take the B6246 road northwest out of Whalley, or else east from Hurst Green, until you hit the little village of Great Mitton, with its churchyard in the middle. Go into the churchyard and you’ll find this weird-looking cross!
Archaeology & History
The curious-looking upright in the churchyard here has a mixed history by all accounts. The oldest portion of the cross is universally ascribed to be the top section, rediscovered when it was dug up “shortly before 1801.” (Ackerley 1947) It possesses a carving of the crucifixion on one side, and some curious figures carved on the other, which some ascribe to being Jesus, but could well be the triple female element which would still have been prevalent in peasant culture at the time it’s thought to have been carved. The original shaft carrying the ‘cross’ had long since been destroyed and so, according to Jessica Lofthouse (1946),
“In 1897 it was ‘re-erected to commemorate the 1300th anniversary of the reintroduction of christianity into Britain,’ with the new shaft we see today. This is the oldest relic in Mitton.”
In J. Buckler’s early 1841 drawing of both sides of the carved cross-head we can see in greater detail the nature of the medieval rock art and this was described in Aymer Vallance’s (1920) decorative analysis of carved crosses in England. He told that
“the cross-head at Mitton, Yorkshire…is peculiar inasmuch as the crucifixion is sculptured on both faces, but in totally different fashions. That on the west face has the arms stretched horizontally, within a sexfoil frame, and might well be of the thirteenth century. Whereas the sculpture on the east face, though much more weatherworn, is of a style that could not have been designed before the fourteenth, or perhaps even the fifteenth century. The arms of the Christ in this instance are drawn upwards in an unusually oblique direction. It is impossible that these two representations could have been executed at one and the same date. The circular outline of the head, too, is peculiar, and suggestive rather of a gable-cross than of a standing cross. Possibly the west face only was sculptured in the first instance, for a gable-cross, the sculpture on the east face being added later in order to adapt the stone for the head of a churchyard cross.”
Although I’ve gotta say that the three carved figures with the upright arms strikes me more as three females than any crucified character and may be an early depiction of the three Mary’s.
One of the early ministers at Mitton church was none other than John Webster, who wrote the highly influential work, Displaying of Supposed Witchcraft, which denounced much of the Church’s obsession and murder of countless people under the auspice of some spurious devil and demonological bollocks which, even today, some still suffer to endure. Webster was only at Mitton for a few years, before moving into deeper Yorkshire and setting up at Kildwick.
References:
Ackerley, Frederick George, A History of the Parish of Mitton, Aberdeen University Press 1947.
Lofthouse, Jessica, Three Rivers, Robert Hale: London 1946.
Vallance, Aymer, Old Crosses and Lychgates, Batsford: London 1920.
From Great Mitton village, go up (north) the slightly winding B6243 road for a mile, then take the left turn up the minor country lane, for about 300 yards, till you reach a tiny crossroad of tracks, one leading down to Scott House and the other up to Withgill Farm. Stop here! You’re damn close. From what our man ‘QDanT’ says, this is now to be found behind the hedge by the roadside, on the side of the road where the track runs up to Withgill Farm, tucked low and overgrown close to the ground. Good luck!
Archaeology & History
Described by Mr Ackerley (1947) as being found
“in the coppice beside the gate to Withgill is the base of another road-side cross,”
Cross-base (after QDanT)
all but overgrown by ivy and lost to the causal eye. Thankfully our man Danny got on his bike and found the remains of the little fella, all-but invisible beneath the vegetative growth! Beneath the vegetation, John Dixon told there to be “some interesting 17th century graffiti,” but there’s not much that remains of the old cross.
Folklore
There is a curious story about a legendary church that was once supposed to have been up the track on the hill just above here at the farm. The story goes,
“that when Mitton church was built, it ought to have been built on Withgill Knowle: that there was a church somewhere about there, and that the stones from it were carted down to Mitton in one night and used in building the present church.”
This bitta folklore is a motif found commonly at prehistoric sites, where stones from our ancient places were uprooted and moved (destroyed) to give way to the new christian mythos. To my knowledge, no such prehistoric sites are known hereby. Mr Dixon – over to you dear sir!
References:
Ackerley, Frederick George, A History of the Parish of Mitton in the West Riding of Yorkshire, Aberdeen University Press 1947.
