Although the lads at the Scottish Royal Commission (1974) initially described this site as a ‘Standing Stone’, it is in fact,
“an erratic boulder of granite roughly shaped in the form of a cross… It measures 0.8m in height, 0.6m in width at base, and 0.4m in width at the top…(and) the stone is supposed to have marked a boundary.”
The site was evidently of some mythic importance, as the great Cathedral of St. Moluag was built next to the stone — unless the giant cairn of Cnoc Aingil, 500 yards away, was to blame. A holy well of this saint’s name (an obvious heathen site beforehand) is also nearby.
Folklore
Although this stone was dedicated to swans, I’ve not found the story behind the name. There were no buried swans here, but local tradition told that this old boulder could give sanctuary to anyone who touched it, or ran round it sunwise. The Hebridean folklorist Otta Swire (1964) told that,
“anyone who claimed such sanctuary had his case considered by ‘the Elders.’ If they considered his plea justified, they ‘came out and walked sun-wise round the Swan Stone.’ If they did not approve of his right to sanctuary, they walked round it anti-clockwise and the man was then given over, not to his enemies, but ‘to Authority’ to be tried.”
This old tradition derives from well known pre-christian rites. Swire also reported that even in the 1960s here, “at funerals the coffin is always carried round the grave sun-wise before being laid in it.” An old cross placed in the Field of the Cross next to the stone was an attempt to tease folk away from heathen rites of the stone, but failed.
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – volume 2: Lorn, RCAHMS: Edinburgh 1974.
Swire, O.F., The Inner Hebrides and their Legends, Collins: London 1964.
For people who like to visit the sacred sites that determined a cross-over from Earth-based animism to one which ceased sanctifying the Earth, this ancient water source in the cellars beneath York Minster would be a good example. Sadly, the church has closed off access to this ancient heritage and you can no longer see it. Yet despite the fact that the modern-day christians have closed off your encounter with this important heritage site (York Minster’s website doesn’t even mention its existence!), we should not forget its mythic history…
As you walk into the building (at some great expense, it has to be said), the location of the holy well is said to be at its more western end, albeit in the crypt underground—although there does seems to be some confusion with some authors about exactly where the well is positioned.
1850 sketch of well
The earliest account we hear of the place relates to when the northern tribal King Edwin, along with his sons Osfrid and Esfrid, came here to be “baptized” in the waters of this clear spring “on Easter day, April 12, 627” CE. Immediately thereafter a small wooden chapel was constructed next to or above the well. From then on, as the centuries passed, the renown of the well grew and eventually the magnificent ritual temple of York Minster was eventually built. The waters eventually became dedicated to St. Peter and an annual festival occurred here soon after the Midsummer solstice on what became known as St. Peter’s Day (June 29). After the year 1462, a secondary festival date was also given to the site by the Church and another annual celebration occurred here on October 1 too. Its waters remained accessible to people for drinking, healing and rites throughout the centuries. It is only now, in the 21st century, that its sacrality and spirit has been closed-off. This is a situation that must be remedied!
In Mr Goole’s (1850) survey of York Minster, his architectural illustration of the building showed that the water from the well had been brought up onto the ground floor, on the southeast side of the inner cathedral building in the easternmost vestry, and named as St Peter’s Pump. This is illustrated in the 1850 drawing above-left.
A whole series of early writers mention the well in earlier centuries—of whom a brief sample is given here. When Celia Feinnes came here in the 17th century, she said that,
“In the vestry of York Minster there is a well of sweet spring water called St Peter’s Well ye saint of ye Church, so it is called St Peter’s Cathedral.” (Smith 1923)
Mr Torre (1719) gave it equal brevity, saying simply that,
“at the south-west corner thereof is a draw-well (called St. Peter’s Well) of very wholesome clear water much drunk by the common people.”
In R.C. Hope’s (1893) national survey of sacred wells, he told that
“There is a draw well with a stone cistern in the eastern part of the crypt of York Minster… The Crypt is about 40 feet by 35 feet.”
The well was even included in Murray’s Handbook to Yorkshire (1892) as being “in the southwest corner of the Minster.” William Smith (1923) included the site in his fine survey, telling his readers that,
“The water is excellent in quality, which in measure, so chemists say, is due to the lime washed into it by the rain from the walls of the Minster. The water has for centuries been used for baptisms, and is so used today. The well has now for some years been covered with a pump.”
Folklore
In Geoffrey of Monmouth’s famous early History, we find that King Arthur visited here. …And one final note, about which we know not for certain whether it was relevant to the holy well hiding in the crypt, but a fascinating heathen custom was enacted here in bygone days, almost above the spring. Mistletoe, as Christina Hole (1950) told,
“was ceremonially carried to the cathedral on Christmas Eve and laid upon the high altar, after which a universal pardon and liberty for all was proclaimed at the four gates of the city for as long as the branch lay upon the altar.”
Mistletoe is one element that is known to have been sacred to the druids (not the present-day druids!) and was sacred to the ancient Scandinavians (who came here), and also possessed the powers of life and death in its prodigious folklore and phytochemistry. Fascinating…
…to be continued…
References:
Bord, Janet, Cures and Curses: Ritual and Cult at Holy Wells, HOAP: Wymeswold 2006.
Sacred Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0973 4091
Archaeology & History
Lund Well on 1852 map
Once found in a cluster of three little wells all very close to each other near the top of the field where the Crossflatts roundabout joins up with the Aire-Valley trunk road, this is an intriguing site if you happen to be a pagan, or have an interest in druidism — and for one main reason: its name. When I first came across a reference to the place about 25 years ago, the only piece of information I could find about it came from the arduous detailed researches of the Victorian industrial historian J. Horsfall Turner who, unfortunately, neglected to record much of the fading folklore in the region at his time. Marked on the 1852 6-inch Ordnance Survey map, ‘Lund’ was a bit of an etymological curiosity, and Mr Turner (1897) thought the well’s name was little other than that of a local mill owner, whose nickname was ‘Lund’ Thompson. He was guessing of course…and I thought little more about it…
Years later when looking through A.H. Smith’s (1961-63) magnum opus on the place-names of West Yorkshire, I found that he didn’t include the Lund Well in his survey. However, an eventual perusal of Kenneth Cameron’s (1996) work told that in Old Norse place-names (and there is a preponderance of such places scattering Yorkshire and Lancashire), lund or lundr was a “‘small wood, grove,’ also had a meaning, ‘sacred grove’.” The word is echoed in old French, launde, meaning ‘forest glade’. In A.H. Smith’s (1954) earlier etymological magnum opus he said that the word derives from a “small wood, grove, also a sacred grove, one offering sanctuary.” However, Margaret Gelling (2000) urged caution on the origin of lund as a sacred grove and erred more to the usual English tendency of depersonalizing everything, taking any animistic attribution away from its root meaning; but we must urge caution upon her caution here! Neither Joseph Wright (English Dialect Dictionary, vol.3 1905) nor William Grant (Scottish National Dictionary, vol.6, 1963) have entries for this word, so we must assume the Scandinavian root word origin to be correct.
One vitally important ingredient with the Lund Well is its geographical position. For across the adjacent River Aire the land climbs uphill—and a few hundred yards above we reach the well-known and legendary Druid’s Altar, with its Druid’s Well just below. This association is what suggests our Lund Well may have had a real association with a “sacred grove of trees”, as—despite us knowing very little about them—we do at least know that druids performed rites in sacred groves. In Greenbank’s (1929) historical analysis of the Druid’s Altar, he was left perplexed as to the origin of its name as all early accounts and popular culture assigned it this title, and so he opted for the probability that the druids did indeed once perform rites here. If this was true, then our seemingly innocuous Lund Well once had a much more sacred history than anyone might have thought. Sadly, through their usual ignorance of such matters, the industrialists destroyed it….
References:
Cameron, Kenneth, English Place-Names, Batsford: London 1996.
Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape, Phoenix: London 2000.
Greenbank, Sydney, The Druid’s Altar, Bingley, R.G. Preston: Bingley 1929.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 2, Cambridge University Press 1954.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – 8 volumes, Cambridge University Press 1961-63.
Legendary Rocks (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0886 4479
Archaeology & History
Kirk Stones on 1851 map
A place-name that is still recognised on modern Ordnance Survey maps, even though the original site giving rise to it was all but destroyed some one hundred-and-fifty years ago. Derived from the old word kirk, meaning a church or sacred site, no christian remains of any kind have ever existed here and so we must presume an earlier, more heathen site of sanctity (an abundance of prehistoric petroglyphs exist very close by). The singular reference detailing the nature of these Kirk Stones is in J.A. Busfield’s (1875) rare tract on the history of Upwood, in the parish of Bingley. Upwood Hall was built by the Busfield family and, as the author tells,
“one of the most striking features in the vicinity at this age [c.1800, PB] was the fine range of magnificent rocks called Kirkstones, which had existed for countless ages. These grand rocks, towering one above another, extended along the whole southern boundary of the [Whetstone] Allotment on the left of the road to Ilkley, and were really a fine object, but alas!, through the ignorance or stupidity of the agent Colonel Bence, the “Crags of Kirkstone” were broken up and disposed of in the construction of the Bradford Water Works about the year 1854.”
Sadly we have neither illustrations nor other references to these fine sounding sentinels.
Undoubtedly the Kirkstones were a natural feature, despite their venerated title. It would have been their very appearance that gave rise to their revered title, as in the great and contorted rock masses seen at Brimham Rocks which, from Bensons’s description, these Kirk Stones seem reminiscent. The only piece of extant lore to these stones is that the uprights that went into making the recently destroyed Bradup stone circle a short distance south of here, came from this sacred outcrop. It seems reasonable to assume that they played an important role in the magickal history of these hills when they were scattered with forest.
The Kirk Stones aligned along the equinox axis to the Black Knoll standing stone less than a mile [1.4km] due east.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Busfield, Johnson Atkinson, Fragments Relating to a History of Bingley Parish, Bradford 1875.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – Part 2, Cambridge University Press 1956.
For people who like to visit the sacred sites that determined a cross-over from Earth-based animism to one which ceased sanctifying the Earth, this ancient water source in the cellars beneath York Minster would be a good example. Sadly, the church has closed off access to this ancient heritage and you can no longer see it. Yet despite the fact that the modern-day christians have closed off your encounter with this important heritage site (York Minster’s website doesn’t even mention its existence!), we should not forget its mythic history…
As you walk into the building (at some great expense, it has to be said), the location of the holy well is said to be at its more western end, albeit in the crypt underground—although there does seems to be some confusion with some authors about exactly where the well is positioned.
1850 sketch of the well
The earliest account we hear of the place relates to when the northern tribal King Edwin, along with his sons Osfrid and Esfrid, came here to be “baptized” in the waters of this clear spring “on Easter day, April 12, 627” CE. Immediately thereafter a small wooden chapel was constructed next to or above the well. From then on, as the centuries passed, the renown of the well grew and eventually the magnificent ritual temple of York Minster was eventually built. The waters eventually became dedicated to St. Peter and an annual festival occurred here soon after the Midsummer solstice on what became known as St. Peter’s Day (June 29). After the year 1462, a secondary festival date was also given to the site by the Church and another annual celebration occurred here on October 1 too. Its waters remained accessible to people for drinking, healing and rites throughout the centuries. It is only now, in the 21st century, that its sacrality and spirit has been closed-off. This is a situation that must be remedied!
In Mr Goole’s (1850) survey of York Minster, his architectural illustration of the building showed that the water from the well had been brought up onto the ground floor, on the southeast side of the inner cathedral building in the easternmost vestry, and named as St Peter’s Pump. This is illustrated in the 1850 drawing above-left.
A whole series of early writers mention the well in earlier centuries—of whom a brief sample is given here. When Celia Feinnes came here in the 17th century, she said that,
“In the vestry of York Minster there is a well of sweet spring water called St Peter’s Well ye saint of ye Church, so it is called St Peter’s Cathedral.”(Smith 1923)
Mr Torre (1719) gave it equal brevity, saying simply that,
“at the south-west corner thereof is a draw-well (called St. Peter’s Well) of very wholesome clear water much drunk by the common people.”
In R.C. Hope’s (1893) national survey of sacred wells, he told that
“There is a draw well with a stone cistern in the eastern part of the crypt of York Minster… The Crypt is about 40 feet by 35 feet.”
The well was even included in Murray’s Handbook to Yorkshire (1892) as being “in the southwest corner of the Minster.” William Smith (1923) included the site in his fine survey, telling his readers that,
“The water is excellent in quality, which in measure, so chemists say, is due to the lime washed into it by the rain from the walls of the Minster. The water has for centuries been used for baptisms, and is so used today. The well has now for some years been covered with a pump.”
Folklore
In Geoffrey of Monmouth’s famous early History, we find that King Arthur visited here. …And one final note, about which we know not for certain whether it was relevant to the holy well hiding in the crypt, but a fascinating heathen custom was enacted here in bygone days, almost above the spring. Mistletoe, as Christina Hole (1950) told,
“was ceremonially carried to the cathedral on Christmas Eve and laid upon the high altar, after which a universal pardon and liberty for all was proclaimed at the four gates of the city for as long as the branch lay upon the altar.”
Mistletoe is one element that is known to have been sacred to the druids (not the present-day druids!) and was sacred to the ancient Scandinavians (who came here), and also possessed the powers of life and death in its prodigious folklore and phytochemistry. Fascinating…
…to be continued…
References:
Bord, Janet, Cures and Curses: Ritual and Cult at Holy Wells, HOAP: Wymeswold 2006.
The archaeology and traditions ascribed to this ancient tree (exact position unknown) is based on words that were first penned two hundred years ago. It was thankfully recorded with a reasonable description when William Nimmo wrote about the great Sir William Wallace in the second edition of his Stirlingshire (1817) work. Known about in oral tradition by local people, Nimmo told how:
“Torwood was a place where he and his party, when engaged in any expedition in this part of the country, often held their rendezvous, and to which they retreated in the hour of danger. Here is still to be seen an aged oak, well known by the name of Wallace’s Tree; which seems to have been, even then, rotten and hollow within, and is said to have often afforded a lodging to him and a few of his trusty friends. It is supposed to have been one of the largest trees that ever grew in Scotland. It is now almost quite decayed; but, from its ruins, appears to have been of an uncommon size. The remaining stump is no less than eleven or twelve feet in diameter. It stands upon the summit of a small eminence, which is surrounded on all sides by a swamp. A rugged causeway runs from the south through the swamp, and leads up to the tree. Some other vestiges of the stonework are discernible, surrounding the tree in a circular form, and leading to the conjecture that this oak is of a very high antiquity; and that, having been much frequented by Druidical priests, amongst whom the oak was sacred, the causeway had been laid for their approach to it, and the performance, underneath its branches, of religious rites.”
Nimmo may have a point here. Not necessarily of druids (although druidic traditions and reality is known from many old tracts to have continued in many of the hidden places in Scotland), but certainly in relation to the paved track leading to a what may have been a recognised moot-hill, on top of which this great oak once stood. Great trees and ancient meeting places were held in high esteem, not only in the legends of druidism and more established animistic pantheons, but in the recognised pragmatism of local tribal gatherings, in Scotland, Wales, England and in traditional cultures all over the world. (Gomme 1880) The traces of stonework leading to the hill strongly implies an archaeological site in the paving alone; but moreso, as an important site in the traditions of the Scottish people. The fact that these stone ruins were still visible when Nimmo visited the site in the latter-half of the 18th century in the context he describes, implies it may have been the remains of a possible crannog; or a moot hill; or even, with its great oak surmounting, a sacred grove! In my mind, it was probably being used as a gathering place long before William Wallace and his men gathered here…
In 1880, a 3rd edition of Nimmo’s Stirlingshire was published and edited by R. Gillespie. Herein were additional notes about Wallace’s Oak that had been uncovered by Mr Gillespie. Although he’d visited the place,
“Not the smallest vestige…of the Wallace oak remains. Even the ” oldest inhabitant” can say nothing of it save what he has gathered from tradition. Sir Walter Scott, in his Tales of a Grandfather, speaks of having seen some of its roots eighty years ago; and recently we were shown a treasured morsel of the tree in the Chambers’ Institute at Peebles. Wallace, undoubtedly, often chose the solitude of the Torwood as a place of rest for his army, raised and roused to oppose the tyranny of Edward. Here he concealed his numbers and his designs, sallying out suddenly on the enemy’s garrisons, and retreating as suddenly when afraid of being overpowered. While his army lay in these woods, “the oak” was his head-quarters. Within it, the illustrious hero generally slept, the hollow trunk being huge enough to afford shelter both to himself and one or more of his associates.”
When John Gibson (1908) came to write about it, he told that “Wallace’s Oak, which stood on another part of Woodside (low Torwood), has…vanished.” No roots, no lingering trunk—nothing. But although the tree has long since gone, William M. Stirling pointed out in 1817 that,
“A young tree is pointed out in the neighbourhood, as having sprung from an acorn of Wallace’s Oak.”
If and when we can locate the old toll-house of Broomage at Larbert, we get much closer to identifying the exact location of this long lost oak. Then, perhaps, a commemorative plaque should surely be placed there to remind people of their great history, and included on tours of sites relating to Sir William Wallace.
Follow the same directions described to reach the Druidsfield 1 and 2 carvings. This one is the larger upright block right next to them!
Archaeology & History
Several of the faint cups visible
Contextually relevant to the two adjacent carvings, this is the largest of the three stones and comprises of a number of natural deep marks associated with between eight or ten man-made cup-markings. They’re not all immediately apparent, but stand out more as and when natural lighting conditions change. All of them are on the north and northwestern section of the stone, and measure between 1-3 inches across. This is the least visually impressive of the stones in this petroglyph cluster.
Folklore
The carvings here were said by one of the locals to have been part of a “druid’s circle, which we played in as children, and were always told had been a special place of the druids in ancient times.”
Haggart, D., “Notice of the discovery of a stone cup and cup-marked stones at Lochearnhead,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 22, 1888.
Acknowledgements – Huge thanks to Paul Hornby for help and use of his photos.
Follow the same directions as if you’re going to the much overgrown, earthfast Druidsfield 01 carving. Adjacent is an upstanding block of large rock, right next to which is the flat surface of this Druidsfield 2 carving. If it’s overgrown, rummage around. You can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
This carving and its compatriots have almost been forgotten about it seems. Buried beneath rolls of vegetation, this long flat rock covered in cup-markings seems to have played a part in some larger megalithic structure—but whatever it was is difficult to work out. As you walk around the place it gives the distinct impression that some form of tomb was once in evidence, which may have been the case. The Scottish archaeology giant Audrey Henshall is said to have found no evidence of a chambered tomb, but this may have been something smaller, less impressive.
When Mr Haggart (1888) wrote about this carving, he too thought that the carvings had been part of a tomb—this being the horizontal surface at the bottom. He wrote that,
“the one forming the floor area of the dolmen being a square-shaped boulder of diorite, having fifty cups, varying from three and a half inches to an inch in diameter, the outlines of which look as fresh as if chiselled a year or two ago.”
The main cluster of cups
This indicates it had only recently been uncovered. There are lots of other archaeological remains scattered all round here, from different periods of history; but the other Druidsfield 1 and 3 carvings are found right next to each other, indicating this very spot was some site of neolithic or Bronze Age importance. An accurate excavation of the site and the adjacent Druids Circle would be worthwhile. I counted at least 44 cups on this rock when we visited last week, many of which are still quite clear.
The most recent Royal Commission (1979) briefing of the stone added nothing of relevance. They listed the site but it seems they never visited the place.
The portable bullaun-like deep-cut rock known as the Druid’s Stone is kept in private grounds nearby. When members of Scottish heritage came to visit an adjacent site a few years ago, the lady of the house told how they walked right past it without giving it any notice. “They didn’t even see it under their noses,” she said. Nowt new there!
Folklore
The carvings here were said by one of the locals to have been part of a “druid’s circle, which we played in as children, and were always told had been a special place of the druids in ancient times.”
References:
Coles, F.R., “Report on stone circles in Perthshire principally Strathearn,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 45, 1911.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Stirling District, Central Region, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 1979.
Acknowledgements – Huge thanks to Messr Paul Hornby for help and use of his photos.
From Lochearnhead village going south along the main A84 road to Callander or Stirling, take the very last road on the right just as you’re going out of the village, up o Craggan and park up by St. Angus’ Church. Walk back down onto the A84, turning right and walk along for 100 yards. Then go back up into a boggy field, where you’ll notice some walling above you. Head to the top right of this, up to the edge of a garden. Hereby is a cluster of rocks in a jumble. That’s your spot!
Archaeology & History
Cup-marks along the edge and bottom of the stone
This takes a bit of finding in the undergrowth and is best checked out at the end of Winter. Once overgrown it truly takes some finding. But beneath the vegetation is a slender earthfast rock with a long ridge, a little bit like a spine, running from one end of the stone to the other. Along this topmost spinal column we find a cluster of ten cup-markings, getting smaller in size the further along the spine we travel. It’s a curious feature. At the widest end of the rock where the widest and deepest cup-marks occur, another four cups have been etched into the northeastern sloping face below the largest cups.
When we came here, the sunlight was blocked by the surrounding trees, so we were unable to see if other elements had been carved onto the stone. It is found in conjunction with two other rocks—Druidsfield 2 and 3 carvings—right next to each other, with designs of quite different visual structures, seemingly unconnected in any linear sense. There also seemed to be a possibility that this was once part of a prehistoric tomb. Later we found that both D. Haggart (1888) and Fred Coles (1911) had made similar comments, with Haggart specifically telling there to have been a collapsed tomb here in the 19th century. He may have been right. Extensive walled structures abound hereby−including one which old locals told us were remains of a Druid’s Circle, which we found close by.
Folklore
The carvings here were said by one of the locals to have been part of a “druid’s circle, which we played in as children, and were always told had been a special place of the druids in ancient times.”
Haggart, D., “Notice of the discovery of a stone cup and cup-marked stones at Lochearnhead,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 22, 1888.
Acknowledgements – Huge thanks to Messr Paul Hornby for help and use of his photos.
From Denholme, take the A6033 Hebden Bridge road up, but shortly past the great bend turn off right up the steep road towards the moorland windmills until you reach the flat dirt-tracked road, past the reservoir below. A coupla hundred yards past the track to the reservoir, take the footpath south into the tribbly grasslands and moor. A few hundred yards down you’ll note the large rock outcrop ahead of you. The rocking stone is there!
Archaeology & History
The old rocking stone
A small moorland arena with a neglected history. Many lost memories surround this site, with barely legible ruins from medieval and Victorian periods prevailing against scanty snippets of neolithic and Bronze Age rumours and remains. The rocking stone here—which moves slightly with a bit of effort—sits amidst a gathering of other large rocks, some of which have debatable cup-markings on their smoothly eroded surfaces.
Our rocking stone, resting 1350 feet (411m) above seal level, was first mentioned in John Watson’s (1775) magnum opus, who gave a quite lengthy description of the site, telling us that,
“On a common called Saltonstall-moor, is what the country people call the Rocking-stone… The height of this on the west side (which is the highest) is, as I remember, about three yards and a half. It is a large piece of rock, one end of which rests on several stones, between two of which is a pebble of a different grit, seemingly put there for a support, and so placed that it could not possibly be taken out without breaking, or removing the rocks, so that in all probability they have been laid together by art. It ought to be observed, that the stone in question, from the form and position of it, could never be a rocking stone, though it is always distinguished by that name. The true rocking stone appeared to me to lie a small distance from it, thrown off its centre. The other part of this stone is laid upon a kind of pedestal, broad at the bottom, but narrow in the middle; and round this pedestal is a passage which, from every appearance, seems to have been formed by art, but for what purpose is the question.”
Dubious cupsWatson’s 1775 drawing of the Rocking Stone
Watson then goes onto remark about other rocking stones in Cornwall and further afield with attendant “druid basins” on them, noting that there were also “rock basins” found here on Warley Moor, a few of which had been “worked into this rocking stone,” which he thought, “helps to prove that the Druids used it.” And although these rock basins are large and numerous over several of the rocks on this plateau, like the cup-markings that also scatter the surfaces, they would seem to be Nature’s handiwork.
Turner’s 1913 drawing
Some 60 years later when the literary thief John Crabtree (1836) plagiarized Watson’s words verbatim into his much lesser tome, it seemed obvious he’d never ventured to explore the site. But in the much more valuable historical expansion written by John Leyland around 1867, he at least visited the site and found the old stone, “still resting on its shady pedestal.” Later still, when Whiteley Turner (1913) ventured this way on one of his moorland bimbles, he added nothing more to the mythic history of these west-facing megaliths…
Folklore
Still reputed locally to have been a site used by the druids; a local newspaper account in the 1970s also told how local people thought this place to be “haunted by goblins.”
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Crabtree, John, Concise History of the Parish and Vicarage of Halifax, Hartley & Walker: Halifax 1836.
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 1961.
Turner, Whiteley, A Spring-Time Saunter round and about Bronte Lane, Halifax Courier 1913.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
