It seems there’s not been a lot of archaeohistory written about this ruined site — nor its companion that was once visible 50 yards to the west. In Richard Feachem’s (1977) gazetteer he described it simply as:
“a turf-covered stony mound some 10ft in height, standing in the middle of an enclosure formed by a ditch with a wall on its inner lip, which is best preserved on the west.”
Folklore
A common aspect of faerie-lore are incidences of apparent time-lapses — beloved in modern times in certain UFO encounters (Vallee 1969; Keel 1970). Such was the case here, in the story described at this ruinous old site by George Sutherland (1937). He wrote:
“Two men carrying a small keg of whiskey for the New Year festivities were passing the church of Bruan. They heard stirring bagpipe music and a few hundred yards further on they came to the Bruan Broch and found it open, and saw a number of the little folk in green dancing merrily to the music. One of the men was eager to join them in the dance and went in. The other man was more cautious and remained outside, and waited patiently until his friend would have his dance. A long weary time passed and his friend was not appearing. He went to the open door of the broch and called to his friend to come out. His friend said, “I have not got a dance yet!” After another long wait he shouldered the keg of whiskey and set out for home, never doubting but that his friend would return home before morning. Next day he called at his friend’s house to see if he had come home, and to his consternation found that he had not. Then he went to the broch in the hope of finding him there, but the broch showed no trace of a door, and no trace or soil or stones having been disturbed since the days of King Brude MacBile, and there was no appearance of man or fairy. It was an old belief that in such a case the same scene would be enacted in the same place in a year after, and accordingly on the anniversary of that day he went to the Bruan Broch. It was open, the music and dancing were going on as before, and his friend was there. He put some iron article in the door to prevent the fairies from closing it… He went to the open door and said to his friend, “Are you not coming home now?” His friend replied, “I have not got a dance yet.” He told his friend that he had been a year in the broch, and that it was surely time for him to come home now, but his friend did not believe that he was more than an hour or so there. The man then made a rush at his friend, seized him, and dragged him out by sheer force, and they set out for home together. It was difficult for him to realise that his sojourn with the fairies was such a prolonged one, but the fact that his own child did not recognise him, together with other changes that had taken place, convinced him.”
References:
Feachem, Richard, Guide to Prehistoric Scotland, Batsford: London 1977.
Keel, John A., UFOs: Operation Trojan Horse, Souvenir Press: London 1970.
Sutherland, George, Folklore Gleanings and Character Sketches from the Far North, John-o-Groats Journal: Wick 1937.
Vallee, Jacques, Passport to Magonia: From Folklore to Flying Saucers, H.Regnery: Chicago 1969.
An intriguing site this, as it doesn’t appear to be in the Canmore archaeological register – unless it’s the Canmore site 34750. Yet Alexander MacGregor (1937) mentions the place in his folklore study as being a site where the little people lived. Shown on the first OS-map of the region as ‘Fairyfold Hillock’, Mr MacGregor (1937) said of it:
“Near the summit of Carmylie Hill is a large barrow or tumulus, which was believed at one time by the natives to be a favourite haunt of the fairies, where, with much splendour, they held their nightly revels. It still bears the name of ‘Fairy-Folk Hillock.'”
However it seems that quarrying operations may have destroyed the site. The tomb here was probably the same one described by Mr Andrew Jervise in the Journal of the Kilkenny and South East of Ireland Archaeological Society (1864-66), where he wrote:
“Many years ago I took note of another example of these ‘footmarks,’ which was found in the parish of Carmyllie… This was discovered in the course of making agricultural improvements some thirty-five years ago, on which occasion stone coffins or cists were got, and in one of these was a bronze (?) ring, of about three inches in diameter, now said to be lost. Apart from the cists there was a rude boulder of about two tons weight; and upon the lower side of it, as my informant told me, was scooped the representation of a human foot. This too was associated with the elves; for the hillock upon which these discoveries were made was called the ‘fairies’ knowe;’ and tradition says that, but for a spirit that warned the workmen to suspend operations when they began to prepare for the foundations of the parish church, the church would have been built upon that spot!”
Crowned by a clump of trees (planted in 1740), this hilltop site is one of the more impressive of a number of tombs hereby, with its nearest other neighbour being 70 yards southeast of here. One of Dorset’s early tribal meeting places (Anderson 1934), the tomb was illustrated on Isaac Taylor’s 1765 map of the region and was dug into in 1858 “on the orders of a local magnate” (Marsden 1999), damaging some substantial portion of the tomb. Of this, craniologist and antiquarian John Thurnam was most displeased; for in his description of the opening of Culliford Tree he wrote:
“A wide trench had been dug through it one side, from the summit and the rubble which had been thrown out had not been replaced… Another subject of regret was the fact that though, as we were told by the neighbouring rustics, human remains, with pottery and certain other relics, were found in the barrow, no authentic account of the exploration had, so far as we could learn, been put to print.”
Leslie Grinsell (1959) found the same trouble in his assessment of this site; and the Royal Commission (1970) lads could only describe the site thus:
“Large trench on south and top almost certainly dug in 1858 when four secondary extended inhumations, one with necklace of amber and two gold-plated beads, and cremation with incense cup in collared urn, were found.”
However, it seems that the necklace and gold-plated beads have been “lost” — i.e., someone has them in their own private collection somewhere!
Folklore
This is one of very few tombs in this part of the country where we find the tradition of fairy music. Grinsell (1959) told that:
“The Culliford Tree barrow, formerly the meeting place of the Hundred of Culllingford Tree, is also known as the Music Barrow from the belief that music could be heard beneath the mound by those who listened at the apex at midday.”
References:
Anderson, O.S., The English Hundred-Names, Lunds Universitets Arsskrift 1934.
Marsden, Barry M., The Early Barrow Diggers, Tempus: Stroud 1999.
Royal Commission on Historical Monuments, An Inventory of Historical Monuments in the County of Dorset – Volume 2: South-East, Part 3, HMSO: London 1970.
Warne, Charles, Celtic Tumuli of Dorset: An Account of Personal and other Researches in the Sepulchral Mounds of the Durotriges, Smith: London 1866.
Take the road up across from Ilkley train station uphill towards the moor until you reach great rocks on your right. From here, the Cow & Calf Stones car park (packed with tourists and litter everywhere these days), go up the steep footpath onto the moor. As you level out looking across the first moorland ridge, to your left is a rounded hillock. Go into the heather there and near its small peak and you’ll find what you’re looking for.
Archaeology & History
This is a nice big stone, found amidst a clump of other stones, that gives the distinct impression of once being a large cairn or similar artificial prehistoric feature. But that’s wishful thinking on my behalf… This long fat 10-foot long rock has the distinct signature of someone who thought it a good idea to carve his little name on the carving in 1978, as the name of the rock tells: “Wray Nov 78” — vandalism which the local Ilkley Parish Council and local businessman Tom Lonsdale validate as little more than “twenty-first century informal unauthorised carving.” Beneath the great artist’s signature we find two distinct cup-marks above a large rounded bowl, inside of which seems to be the impression of an old ring, but this seems due to the actions of water and lichen. There are perhaps another two faded cup-markings alongside those distinctly visible. In Hedges (1986) survey he described the “top flat surface has three cups and one basin” — so let’s play safe and go with that!
Close-up of cups, bowl & modern etching
It’s a good stone, sat upon a fine ridge with distinctive views for miles both east and west along the valley of the Wharfe, and north to the ancient settlements and burial grounds of Middleton Moor on the other side of the River Wharfe. From here, behind and up onto Ilkley Moor, unfolds its greater mythic history, scattered and hidden over differing ages. In years past, this site was a fine one for reflection and insight. Today, one must venture further and to other sites for such quiet realities. Close by you can find the double-ringed carving of stone 318 and other faded cup-mark stones nearby.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
Cowling, E.T., Rombald’s Way: A Prehistory of Mid-Wharfedale, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
This large cup-marked stone was known by local people as the Clach na Sithean, or the stone of the fairies. Its smooth surface and well-cut grooves was said to be due to the fairies sharpening their knives upon it, and the straight cuts or grooves were tests of the keenness of their blades.
In addition to the fairies having hold over this stone, a brownie creature also roamed between here and the burn of Allt Mor. Although a dutiful creature, he commonly used to scare the women when they returned from the ceilidhs by chasing them and screaming a curious noise at them. But as well as this, he would also enter the local houses and farms after nightfall and, when the local folk were asleep, would clean the supper dishes and put them in their rightful places. But if there was no work to be done once he had entered their homes, he would take the dishes out and place them on the floors where they would be found in the morning by perplexed householders. Then they’d know that the brownie had visited. Sometimes he was a great help to the housewives, other times a nuisance. He became known to local people as Puddlefoot, or Cas an Lubain, but so offended was he by the name when he heard it, that he let out an almighty scream and vanished, never to be seen again.
References:
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1927.
In this lovely little hamlet we find an ancient well, registered as a scheduled monument in its well-house, but with a long history and lots of legends. It was said to have been a wishing well of considerable power, but many local people wouldn’t use it because it was also the place where mischievous pixies lived. It seems that one of its main magical properties was to divine the love of a person. The writer Ruth Tongue (1965) told a long tale she came across in her county folklore book about such a fortune:
“There was a maid servant, see, and she were coming on in years and she do serve a farmer’s wife as were high in station. Proper tackalackey she made of the dear soul, and she having no living kin. Twas pitiful, and her a-longing for a parcel of children underfoot, even if ’twas only to call her Auntie. But there, ‘twadn’t to be, and her with a heart so full a-drip with loving kindness as a honey comb. Oh, she were a proper mannerly maiden, no ways like her mistress who were just a old ewe dressed up lambs fashion and spending her days living two-three steps from nothing. But it didn’t seem like the maiden couldn’t never meet up with a proper man for her. She wadn’t no summer morning to look at, poor soul, and her mistress kept her so thin as a yard of pump water. But there Providence knows best! There were a old fellow over by Aisholt, and he were such a upstanding courageous man he’d a never got round to marrying, let alone finding the bravery to walk arm in crook with a maiden. Well o’ course he were lonely like she. And it come to a St. Agnes Eve when maids creepy over to her well at Cothelstone and whisper their heart’s desire when ’tis dark, and if St. Agnes do fancy the maiden she’ll send a husband that year. Now the poor maid she were coming to the end of her days of womanhood and beginning to blossom about the head, and she were desperate unhappy about it. Her heart was all a-set on children, and she find bravery to slip out after farm’s a-locked up. She didn’t feel ’twere mannerly to worrit St. Agnes over one who was so on in years when there was young maidens as plentiful as blackberries, so what do the dear soul do but go down all in the dimmit to the Wishing Well in Seven Wells Coombe. Proper unket well ’tis, and hard tew find. But St. Agnes must ha’ knowed, for she found’n though there wadn’ but little moon and old fellow he d’hear summat down in coombe and come to look-see. He were a wise old man and nothing hurted he, but he were shy of folks, seems like. Well, whether ’twere St. Agnes I can’t say, but in a year the farm was sold up and the maid was a-wed to the old fellow. So quiet as a sheep the man was, wouldn’ downarg no-one, but he made her a good husband. In a year or two she’d a babe in the cradle and one under her apron, and two clinging to her skirts, and they was all so happy as daisies in the sunshine, as they say.”
In Mr Kennedy’s book (1927) on the folklore of Strathtay, he informed that this Witches Stone was examined and taken to Edinburgh sometime in the 19th Century, but returned to its home by a local man called Mr McNaughton who lived at Bail-an-eas. The stone was restored close to the walls in which it was first found. He also told us the following:
“In bygone days the witches of Strathtay amd Grandtully had their great meeting place at Tulliepourie. There the Witches’ Stone…with its round bowl-shaped holes, is still in evidence. Satan attended and assumed the shape of a he-goat; but going to the meeting he is said to have rolled along in the shape of a large cart-wheel – gyrating and describing the figure eight. This must have been an exceedingly interesting site! The orgies that ensued at these meetings were disgustingly wicked!”
The fairy folk, whose main home was the hill of Craig Scriadlain further uphill from here, would also have their revelries here. Many of the other sites near here were also used by the same little people of Scriadlain.
References:
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1927.
Park up at Cut Throat bridge on the A57 or alternatively at the huge parking area that’s signposted a little further uphill. Either way, the easiest access point is at Cut Throat Bridge – though be aware the route between the two areas is the narrow grassy verge of the road: take care, kids and dogs on a very short rein! There are many ways to access the circle but I’ll deal with only two here: one, a scramble up the steep bank of the edge; and the other, a longer route which takes in a quite a steep path, but is much easier than the first option if you’re not up for a scramble!
Route 1: The shorter scrambly route – Climb the stile into the wooded area & follow the path till your out of the wood, carry on for another 100 metres then head to your left & up the banking. The circle is thereabouts 40 metres onto the moor in the grassland, not the heather.
Route 2: The longer way but following a relatively easy path – Access the moor via the stile and just follow the path for around ½-mile till it veers to the left at Jarvis Clough & takes a steep route uphill. You then need to head left along the edge for around ¼-mile till you see the circle off to your right in the grassland.
Archaeology and History
Don’t let the bastardization of this site’s name fool you! The seven stones actually number between 9 and 24, depending on the season and the growth around them. They’re laid out in a rough free standing circle around 15.5 metres in diameter.
Hordron Edge looking across to Lose Hill
One of the largest stones to the SW is said to mimic the profile of Lose Hill — which it does sort of if you have a vivid imagination. But it’s not half as close as the top of the stone matches the profile of Lose hill off to your right. It is a complete coincidence of course. The stone has suffered much weathering over the millennia and I’m in no doubt it wasn’t an intended original feature. (see pic, right)
Previously, and at some time preceding the 1992 excavations at the site by John Barnatt, the circle was “tampered” with, leading to a thorough investigation that unearthed several more buried stones, one of which was re-erected.
All in all a fantastically preserved circle and one of the best examples in Derbyshire that’s well worth the effort of a visit. Watch the weather though; as on all but one of my visits I’ve been drenched!. The “wow” factor of this site however, makes that a small price to pay for such an awe-inspiring excursion. With Win Hill and Lose hill looming large to the southwest, Stanage Edge off to the southeast and the great outcrop of Ladybower Tor with it’s rock art to the west, this circle has some of the best scenery of any the circles in Derbyshire.
Folklore
The stone that alleges to line-up with Lose Hill is also known by some of the more imaginitive as the Fairy Stone and there have been reports of strange lights and other phenomena reported around it. I’ve been up here on probably a dozen occasions and never witnessed anything strange — but then I’m often accused of being closed-minded. Another way of saying “non gullible” in my book!
References:
Armitage, Harold, Early Man in Hallamshire, Sampson Low: London 1939.
Barnatt, John, Stone Circles of the Peak, Turnstone: London 1978.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Megalithic Rings, BAR 81: Oxford 1980.
Go up the nicely-named Wildcountry Lane at the staggered crossroads on the edge of Barrow Gurney for about a half-mile, watching out for the dip in the road where it crosses the stream. Walk up the stream here for a coupla hundred yards, keeping your eyes peeled for the small spring on your left just past where a footpath crosses the stream.
Archaeology & History
Little of historical nature is known of this site, found in the dip near the stream, though it was much frequented in bygone centuries as a curative place for sore eyes.
Folklore
Although named after the little people, Phil Quinn (1999) wrote that,
“even the oldest villager cannot remember how the fairies became connected with this well. All that is told is that the people would go to the well to bathe their eyes, for the water was believed to be good in the treatment of all eye complaints. A local woman remembers that her father, who worked the land in this neighbourhood, would always drink from the well using a cup which was never taken away or used for any other purpose.”
It is likely that the fairy association here derived from the proximity of a nearby prehistoric tomb, cairn or similar archaeological remain. The aptly-named Barrow Wood immediately east and other ‘barrow’ place-names nearby would add weight to this notion. (faerie-lore has widespread associations with prehistoric tombs and similar relics)
References:
Quinn, Phil, The Holy Wells of Bath and Bristol Region, Logaston: Almeley 1999.
Head up to the Cow & Calf Rocks and walk to the large disused quarry round the back (west). You’ll notice a scattered copse of old pine trees on the edge where the hill slope drops back down towards Ilkley; and there, two raised hillocks (unquarried bits) rise up where the pine trees grow. The carvings are on the flat rocks atop of one of the two hillocks. If you’re walking up from Ilkley, once you’ve crossed the cattle-grid in the road and the moorland slope opens up above you, just walk uphill towards the copse of trees and watch out for the rock outcrop in the picture here.
Archaeology & History
Very well-known to locals, folklorists and archaeologists alike, the remains of these old glyphs have caught the attention of artists, historians and Forteans alike for the images and tales surrounding them. It was obvious that in times past, that the carved remains that we see today would have extended considerably further, but the quarrying destroyed much of it. Indeed, we’re lucky to have this small section of carved rock still intact!
The rocks were first described as the Hanging Stones in the local parish records of 1645, and their name probably derives from the old-english word hangra, meaning ‘a wood on a steep hill-side,’ which is very apt here. The first known description of the site as possessing cup-and-rings appears to have been in a small article in the local Leeds Mercury newspaper in 1871. Several years later J. Romilly Allen (1879) wrote a lengthier descripton of the site:
“The crags from which these masses have been detached are known by the name of hanging stones, and at their eastern extremity is a large quarry. Between this quarry and the overhanging edge of the cliff a portion of the horizontal surface of the rock was some years ago bared of turf, thereby disclosing the group of cup and ring sculptures shown on the accompanying drawing. It will be seen that the design consists of twenty-five cups of various sizes, from 1 to 3 inches in diameter. Seven of the cups are surrounded by incomplete rings, many of them being connected by an irregular arrangement of grooves. The pattern and execution are of such a rude nature as almost to suggest the idea of the whole having been left in an unfinished state. The sides of the grooves are not by any means smooth, and would seem to have been produced by a process of vertical punching, rather than by means of a tool held sideways.”
Allen and other archaeologists from this period saw some considerable relevance in the position of this and the many other cup-and-rings along this geological ridge, telling:
“The views obtained from all points over Wharfedale are exceedingly grand, and this fact should not be lost sight of in studying remains that may have been connected with religious observances, of which Nature worship formed a part.”
J. Romilly Allen’s 1879 drawing of the carvingsWater-assisted double-ring on eastern rock
A common sense point that seemed long-lost to many archaeologists, adrift as they went in their measurements of lithics and samples of data charts for quite a number of years. In recent years however, this animistic simplicity has awakened again and they’ve brought this attribute back into their vogue. Let’s hope they don’t lose sight of it again!
There are tons of other archaeological references to this fine set of carvings, but none add anything significant to anyone’s understanding of the nature of the designs. We must turn to psychoanthropology, comparative religion and folklore if we want to even begin making any realistic ‘sense’ (if that’s the right word!) of this and other cup-and-rings. Curiously, the nature of this and other carvings is a remit archaeology has yet to correctly engage itself in.
Hanging Stones carving with “twenty-first century informal unauthorised carvings” added
On a very worrying note, we need to draw attention to what amounts to the local Ilkley Parish Council officially sanctioning vandalism on the Hanging Stones, other prehistoric carvings and uncarved rocks across Ilkley Moor. As we can see on a couple of photos here, recent vandalism has been enacted on this supposedly protected monument. Certain ‘officials’ occasionally get their headlines in the local Press acting as if they’re concerned about the welfare of the ancient monuments up here, but in all honesty, some of them really don’t give a damn. The recent vandalism on this stone and others has now been officially recognised as an acceptable “tradition” and a form of — get this! — “twentieth / twenty-first century informal unauthorised carving” and has been deemed acceptable by Ilkley Parish Council as a means to validate more unwanted carving on the moorland “in the name of art”! Of course, their way of looking at this has been worth quite a lot of money to a small group of already wealthy people. But with Tom Lonsdale and Ilkley Council validating or redesignated ‘vandalism’ as “twenty-first century informal unauthorised carvings”, this legitimizes and encourages others to follow in their shallow-minded ignorant footpath, enabling others with little more than a pretentious ‘care’ for both environment and monuments to add their own form of ‘art’ on cup-and-ring carvings, or other rocks on the moors.
Ancient monument with more “twenty-first century informal unauthorised carvings” added
You can see in some recent vandalism — sorry, traditional “twentieth / twenty-first century informal unauthorised carving” — at the top-right of the Hanging Stones photo to the side, a very ornate ‘Celtic’-style addition, akin to the quality carved by well-known stone-mason Pip Hall who, coincidentally, has now been granted a lot of money to “officially” carve her own work on another stone further down the valley from here. With Miss Hall, Mr Lonsdale, poet Simon Armitage and Ilkley Parish Council each playing their individual part in encouraging what is ostensibly vandalism…errr…sorry – I keep getting it wrong – I mean traditional “twentieth / twenty-first century informal unauthorised carving” on the Hanging Stones monument and other cup-and-ring stones on the moor, we can perhaps expect a growth industry in this field…..especially if you’re wanting to make more money for yourself in the name of art or poetry. And if you apply to Rachel Feldberg of the Ilkley Arts Festival, you may get good money for your work… Seriously! (this is no joke either)
Please contact Ilkley Parish Council and other relevant authorities and express your dismay at their lack of insight and concern for the knock-on effects of their decisions on this matter. Other plans to infringe even further onto Ilkley Moor are in the business pipeline…
Folklore
Just underneath the carved overhanging rocks (walk off the knoll to the bottom of the rocks, facing the town), is a small recess or sheltered cavity which, told Harry Speight (1900),has
“From time immemorial (been) known as ‘Fairies’ Kirk’, and traditions of it having been tenanted by those tiny sprites, the fairies, still exist among old people in the neighbourhood.”
Tradition goes on to tell that when the Saxons arrived here, they were wont to build a christian church by the Hanging Stones, but the little people strongly resented this and fought hard against the invading forces. As the Saxons started building the edifice of the new religion, during the night the fairy folk took down the stones and moved them into the valley below. In the morning when the Saxons found this had happened, they carried the stones back up to begin building again; but each night, the fairy folk emerged and again took the stones to the valley bottom again. Eventually, after much hardship, the Saxon folk gave up the idea of building on the Fairie’s Kirk, as it was known, and the church that still remains in Ilkley centre was decided as an easier place to build their edifice.
Traditions such as this (of fairies moving stones back to whence they came, or away from ancient archaeological sites) are found throughout Britain and appear to be simple representations of the indigenous peasant hill-folk who strongly objected to their own sacred sites (rocks, trees, wells, etc) being supplanted by the invading religious force.
In more recent years the observation of curious light phenomena over these rocks have been seen, both over here and the Cow & Calf Rocks…
…to be continued…
References:
Allen, J.R., ‘The Prehistoric Rock Sculptures of Ilkley,’ in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, vol.35, 1879.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milveton 2001.
Bogg, Edmund, Higher Wharfeland, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Collyer, Robert & Turner, J. Horsfall, Ilkley: Ancient and Modern, William Walker: Otley 1885.
Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape, Phoenix: London 2000.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks of Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Leeds Mercury, ‘Prehistoric Remains at Ilkley’, 20 April, 1871.
Michell, John, The Earth Spirit: Its Ways, Shrines and Mysteries, Thames & Hudson: London 1975.
Size Nicholas, The Haunted Moor, William Walker: Otley 1934.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
