Robin Hood wells are numerous in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, but finding them in this neck o’ the woods is unusual (a Robin Hood’s Farm can be found nearly 14 miles south). The waters here would have had obvious importance for local peasant folk in bygone centuries, perhaps with scatterings of Beltane and Midsummer rites hereby; but it seems that records are silent on such matters. The only reference I can find of this place is in Bracken’s (1860) fascinating work on Sutton Coldfield, where he told that,
“At the extremity of the parish, near Pype, a little field is still called the Bowbearer’s Croft. Tradition says two officers of the chase, bowbearers, had a lodge there; and that their duty was to guide the travellers across the wild country. A very old cottage, that had been well built, was removed from the croft in 1828. In that neighbourhood was a fountain, called Robin Hood’s well, now enclosed within the grounds of Penns, where the natural beauties of the situation have been judiciously displayed and improved by the taste of the late proprietor, Joseph Webster.”
Marshy ground to the east of Pype Hall fed the large pond, which is one contender for the site of this lost well. What has become of it? A search in the local library archives for any old manorial maps, or the field-name maps showing Bowbearer’s would prove truly helpful in relocating this site.
References:
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Highlighted on the 1884 Ordnance Survey map of the region and located beyond the far eastern end of Braceridge Lake, this legendary well has seen better days. A small well-house once covered the spring, but all we have left today is little more than a rectangular stone-lined concrete hole-in-the-ground where the waters collect (hopefully some local folk can bring it back to life). But in the 19th century it was well known, much frequented and maintained.
Not much seems to be known about its mythic history, as the traditions surrounding its dual pagan-christian dedication seem to have been forgotten. When the local writer Tom Burgess (1893) came to explore its history, he merely wrote:
“How it came to be called the Druids’ Well is not known, it is scarcely necessary to say that it can have no Druidical connection; it is very probable, however, that it was dedicated to Saint Mary long before the dam of Bracebridge Pool was made by Ralph Bracebridge in the reign of Henry V.”
Druids Well in 1917Druid’s Well in 1932
Jeremy Harte (2008) suggested that this well’s druidic association may have come from a local man, William Hutton who, in the middle of the 18th century, “speculated on a druid sanctuary near Sutton Coldfield.” But before Hutton, the 17th century Staffordshire topographer, Robert Plot, suggested that an arch-druid held residence on Barr Beacon, which is less than three miles west of here. This idea was echoed by Midgley (1904) who told that Barr Beacon “is supposed to have been a Druidical shrine.” Just over three miles to the northwest, the Druid’s Heath (a place-name derived, apparently, from an old family) at Aldridge also had its own array of folklore which, perhaps, may have had something to do with this well’s association. When Roy Palmer (1976) wrote about the Druid’s Well in his folklore survey, he told that Sutton Coldfield,
“is said once to have been the seat of the arch-druid of Britain; perhaps this was his well, which was later christianized.”
So much to choose from…
References:
Bord, Janet, Holy Wells in Britain – A Guide, HOAP: Wymeswold 2008.
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Midgley, W., A Short History of the Town and Chase of Suton Coldfield, Midland Counties Herald: Birmingham 1904.
Palmer, Roy, The Folklore of Warwickshire, Batsford: London 1976.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 8234 9542
Also Known as:
Our Lady’s Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1885 map
There seems to be very little known about this site. It was located in fields just above the site of the Augustinian Priory of St Mary, founded in 1220 CE, where now is Priory Farm, but there seems to be no trace left of it. The great Leicestershire antiquarian John Nichols said the well had been dedicated to Our Lady, the Virgin Mary. This was echoed in John Curtis’ (1831) survey, who told that, “where the Priory formerly stood, a Dwelling House has been erected; and near it is a Well called Our Lady’s Well.” He told that it was deep and “walled below the surface.”
References:
Curtis, John, A Topographical History of the County of Leicester, W. Hextall: Ashby-de-la-Zouch 1831.
Rattue, James, ‘An Inventory of Ancient, Holy and Healing Wells in Leicestershire’, in Transactions Leicestershire Archaeological & Historical Society, volume 67, 1993.
Trubshaw, Bob, Leicestershire and Rutland’s Holy Wells, Heart of Albion: Nottingham 2024.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Cup-and-Ring Stone (removed): OS Grid Reference – NT 12364 32627
Also Known as:
Drumelzier Carving
Archaeology & History
Position of stone in cairn
A carving that was located at the edge of a cairn on a knoll on the east-side of the River Tweed, this is an odd design that now lives in Edinburgh’s central museum: odd, inasmuch as the design looks as if it’s a typical cup-and-ring carving, yet none of the cups on this stone were ever hollowed or pecked out, and so the “cups”, so to speak, are actually small rings (if that makes sense!). There are a number of similar unhollowed “cups” on other carvings that are found associated with prehistoric tombs, so perhaps this aspect was something of a burial trend—amongst a very small tribal group, perhaps… It’s an element that was remarked upon in Simpson & Thawley’s (1972) examination of petroglyphs in neolithic tombs that were called “passage grave style” carvings: a sort of dyslexic cup-and-ring design no less! The intriguing thing about this carving is that it’s one in a small cluster of dyslexic cup-and-rings that are found in this part of Scotland—in an area where rock art itself is pretty scarce. Which begs the question: was it a local tribal style? Anyhow…
The carving was first uncovered when J.H. Craw (1930) excavated the aforementioned cairn, finding therein a number of cists. There’s speculation that the petroglyph might originally have been a covering stone for one of the cists, but we don’t know for sure. Craw described the carving as follows:
Craw’s 1930 sketchRon Morris’ 1981 sketch
“The ring-marked slab…measures 3 feet by 2 feet by 6 inches. It lay at the north side of the cairn (highlighted in sketch, PB), outside the encircling ring, but may originally have been the cover of cist No.2. On the upper side are five shallow ring-markings, four being double and one single. The former measure 3 inches to 4 inches in diameter, and the latter 1¾ inch. The figures are thus much smaller than in typical cup-and-ring-marked stones, and the lines are only ¼ inch in width. The only similar markings known to me are on a slab which I found a number of years ago near the site of several former cairns, and forts at Harelawside near Grant’s House, Berwickshire. The stone is now in our Museum.”
The “museum” in question being Edinburgh’s National Museum (I don’t know if it’s in a box somewhere or on public display, which is where it needs to be). If anyone can get a good photo of this carving, please send it to us or add it on on our Facebook group.
Morris, Ronald W.B., “The Cup-and-Ring and Similar Early Sculptures of Scotland; Part 2 – The Rest of Scotland except Kintyre,” in Transactions of the Ancient Monuments Society, volume 16, 1969.
Morris, Ronald W.B., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Southern Scotland, BAR: Oxford 1981.
Ritchie, Graham & Anna, Edinburgh and South-East Scotland, Heinnemann: London 1972.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, Aberdeen University Press 1967.
Simpson, D.D.A. & Thawley, J.E., “Single Grave Art in Britain,” in Scottish Archaeological Forum, no.4, 1972.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
A little-known multiple ringed carving was discovered a few years ago during the excavation of a prehistoric cairn just immediately east of the A701 roadside, several miles south of Broughton. The cairn itself had been recognised many years prior to the recent excavation, when one of two cists inside it was noted by R.B.K. Stevenson (1940), and which was subsequently described in slightly more detail in the Royal Commission Inventory (1967). But when the modern investigation was undertaken by the Biggar Archaeology Group in 2008, a damaged but impressive carving was uncovered that somehow hadn’t been noticed before. It was described in Tam Ward’s (2008) excavation report where he told that,
Carving in situ (photo courtesy Jim Ness)Carving looking N: courtesy Jim Ness
“lying almost immediately on the east side of Cist 1 is an angular rock…measuring 1m long and over 0.3m wide on the uppermost face, itself lying at an angle facing SW and away from the cist. The rock has fractured due to weathering in post deposition times, as indeed several other surface stones had, but on the widest part of the upper surface are at least seven concentric lines faintly pecked into the smooth flat surface of the stone. The lines are up to 10mm wide and appear to have been intended to form semi ovals on the edge of the rock. The outer ring forms an arc of c270mm on the long axis by c140mm on the short one (the former measurement being straight between the ends of the lines and the latter being a radius across the design). The terminals of the inner curved line are about 80mm apart. The lines are slightly irregular in distance from one another. Although it is far from certain, it does not appear that the rock has been part of a larger one with a more complete design on it, rather the pecking appears not to have been finished since the surface of the rock is similar in appearance overall while the abrasion of the carving varies.”
Fractured design (photo courtesy Jim Ness)
The carving remains in place with the cist, which was covered back over when the excavation had been finished.
Carvings such as this are uncommon in this neck o’ the woods; although less than a mile downstream from here, on the other side of the river, another petroglyph—known as the Drumelzier carving—accompanied another prehistoric tomb. Apart from this, there’s a great scarcity of carvings scattering the Lowlands—although it’s likely that there are others hiding away, waiting to be found on these hills…
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Peeblesshire – volume 1, Aberdeen University Press 1967.
Stevenson, R.B.K., “Cists near Tweedsmuir,” in Proceedings Society Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 74, 1940.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 9848 0822
Also Known as:
St. James’ Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1897 map
Shown on the early Ordnance Survey maps of the town, Berkhamsted’s holy well was a place of some renown in bygone centuries. Today it is barely remembered. It was initially dedicated to St. James, as it was associated with a chapel dedicated to that saint close by, but it had a change of name when the legendary Brotherhood of St. John the Baptist became the new caretakers, so to speak. As a result of this, its history can be a little confusing to some folk!
In the late 12th century, pagan worship at this site came to the attention of Hugh of Grenoble, the Bishop of Lincoln, who visited the place to stop local folk performing their animistic practices (although the exact nature of such rites were not described, sadly). It didn’t work, obviously; as once the bonkers bishop had gone, local folk would have continued in their old ways, no doubt wondering who the hell the odd incomer had been who was telling them to stop doing what they had always done here at the cost of no one. And so the waters continued to be used under the mythic cover of old St James—for the time being at least.
The well later became a centre of pilgrimage and and a hospital was been built close by dedicated to St James, where leprosy was treated and the curative waters from this well were used. St James’ Day was July 25 and an annual fair was held in Berkhamsted thanks to a Royal Charter of James I in 1619. Hertfordshire traditions relating to St James Day are described in Miss Jones-Baker’s (1974) fine survey on the customs of the county. But change was a-coming when a local monk had a dream that the waters of this “pagan spring” needed to be blessed and dedicated to the virtues of St. John the Evangelist and a shrine built where pilgrims could worship and be healed. And as Jones-Baker (1977) told us,
“The water of St John’s Well were thought to cure a variety of diseases; among these leprosy and scrofula (the King’s Evil) as well as sore eyes. There was also a persistent belief that clothing washed in its waters would impart good health to the wearers.”
In the period when the Protestant Reformation occurred, the well and its immediate surrounds apparently became derelict and overgrown. The Old Ways returned and local folk began to visit the waters again at night and the animistic rituals that would have been taken to other secret places returned to St. John’s Well. In this period a local physician, a Dr. Woodhouse, used the sacred waters as part of magickal rites to exorcise evil spirits!
In spite of the local authorities declaring in 1865 that the water was “unfit for drinking”, local folk later told otherwise. Its waters were still being used in the 20th century and its traditions no doubt retained. As the local writer Dora Fry (1954) told us:
“The families dwelling in the cottages at the Bulbourne end of the lane, just below St John’s Spring, were all remarkably healthy… Some time after the town got its first waterworks (and) the local authorities declared that the well’s water was to be used only for the gardens… but I remember as a child drinking the water from the main spring and its coolness and freshness were delectable on a hot summer afternoon.”
The well was still visible up until the 1930s, when its waters ran down a shallow channel along St John Well’s Lane, but then a shop was built above the site and the well has been lost forever.
References:
Bord, Janet & Colin, Sacred Waters, Granada: London 1985.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
About mile south of Northchurch, on the far side of the A41 dual carriageway, somewhere past the old crossroads (or perhaps even at the crossing) an ancient tree lived—and truly lived in the minds of local people, for perhaps a thousand years or so. Mentioned in the Lay Subsidy Rolls in 1307, the Cross Oak gave its name to the old building that once stood in the trees and the hill itself, at the place now known as Oak Corner. Whether or not a “cross” of any form was set up by this old oak, records are silent on the matter. Its heathen ways however, were pretty renowned! (a plaque should be mounted here)
Folklore
The first reference I’ve found of this place is in William Black’s (1883) folklore survey where he told that “certain oak trees at Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire, were long famous for the cure of ague”—ague being an intense fever or even malaria. But a few years later when the local historian Henry Nash (1890) wrote about this place, he told that there was only one tree that was renowned for such curative traditions, that being the Cross Oak. He gave us the longest account of the place, coming from the old tongues who knew of it when they were young—and it had it’s very own ritual which, if abided by, would cure a person of their malady. “The legend ran thus”, wrote Mr Nash:
“Any one suffering from this disease was to proceed, with the assistance of a friend, to the old oak tree, known as Cross Oak, then to bore a small hole in the said tree, gather up a lock of the patient’s hair and make it fast in the hole with a peg, the patient then to tear himself from the tree, leaving the lock behind, and the disease was to disappear.
“This process was found to be rather a trying one for a weak patient, and by some authority unknown the practice was considerably modified. It was found to be equally efficacious to remove a lock of hair by gentle means, and convey it to the tree and peg it in securely, and with the necessary amount of faith the result was generally satisfactory. This is no mere fiction, as the old tree with its innumerable peg-holes was able to testify. This celebrated tree, like many other celebrities, has vanished, and another occupies its place, but whether it possesses the same healing virtues as its predecessor is doubtful. It is however a curious coincidence, that the bane and the antidote have passed away together.”
The lore of this magickal tree even found its way into one of J.G. Frazer’s (1933) volumes of The Golden Bough, where he told how the “transference of the malady to the tree was simple but painful.”
Traditions such as this are found in many aboriginal cultures from different parts of the world, where the spirit of the tree (or stone, or well…) will take on the illness of the person for an offering from the afflicted person: basic sympathetic magick, as it’s known. Our Earth is alive!
References:
Black, William G., Folk Medicine, Folk-lore Society: London 1883.
Frazer, James G., The Scapegoat, MacMillan: London 1933.
Jones-Baker, Doris, The Folklore of Hertfordshire, B.T. Batsford: London 1977.
Nash, Henry, Reminiscences of Berkhamsted, W. Cooper & Nephews: Berkhamsted 1890.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Travel along the B867 road from Bankfoot to Dunkeld (running roughly parallel with the A9) and you’ll reach the hamlet of Waterloo about one mile north of Bankfoot. As you approach the far end of the village, keep your eyes peeled for the small turning on your left and head up there for just over a mile. The road runs to a dead end at Meikle Obney farm, but shortly before reaching there you’ll pass this large standing stone on the right-side of the road, just along the fence-line. It’s almost impossible to miss!
Archaeology & History
This is one of “the large rude upright stones found in the parish” that William Marshall (1880) mentioned briefly, amidst his quick sojourn into the Druidic history of Perthshire. It’s an impressive standing stone on the southern edges of the Obney Hills that doesn’t seem to be in its original position. And it’s another one that was lucky to survive, as solid metal staples were hammered into it more than a hundred years ago when it was incorporated into the fencing, much like the massive Kor Stone 6½ miles south-west of here.
Site shown on 1867 mapWitch’s Stone at roadside
Shown on the first Ordnance Survey map of the area in 1867, its bulky 6½-foot-tall body stands all alone on this relatively flat plain, with open views to the east, south and west. It gave me the distinct impression that it was once part of a larger megalithic complex, but I can find no additional evidence to substantiate this. Call it a gut-feeling if you will. Intriguingly, the closest site to this are two standing stones just out of view literally ⅔-mile (1.07km) to the northeast, aligned perfectly to the Witch’s Stone! Most odd…
Folklore
The story behind this old stone is a creation myth that we find all over the country, but usually relating to prehistoric tombs more than monoliths. The great Fred Coles (1908) wrote:
“the common legend is told of a witch who, when flying through the air on some Satanic behest, let the Stone fall out of her apron.”
Marshall, William, Historic Scenes in Perthshire, William Oliphant: Edinburgh 1880.
Stewart, Elizabeth, Dunkeld – An Ancient City, Munro Press: Perth 1926.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NT 2611 7600
Also Known as:
Bonnington Mineral Well
Archaeology & History
Site shown on 1862 map
If we’d have lived 200 years ago and walked several miles downstream from St Bernard’s Well on the Water of Leith, we would have eventually come across this little-known sacred site, sadly destroyed in the 19th century. It was shown on the earliest OS-map on the south-side of the river, enclosed in a small square building with what looks like two entrances, and what appears to be a covering of the spring on the southeast side. Marked as a chalybeate, or iron-bearing well, this would have obviously have had repute amongst local people and would have worked as a tonic or pick-me-up, aswell as fortifying the blood and a having a host of other benefits.
The Ordnance Survey lads wrote short notes about St. Cuthbert’s Well in the Name Book of 1852-53, where they told:
“A Well Situated at Bonnington. Supposed to have been dedicated to St Cuthbert; about 34 years ago the proprietor repaired the well and at the same time erected a house over it, and fitted it up for Visitors who are charged one penny for a drink. The Water of the well has been analysed by Professor Jameson and Doctor Turner and it was found to Contain Salts of Iron; Soda, magnesia and Lime, also Iodine under the form of Hydrisdate of Potash.”
About the same time as Jameson & Turner’s analysis of St. Cuthbert’s waters, one Dr Edward Schweitzer (1845) wrote one of the most detailed chemical essays on wells, ever!—using Bonnington’s holy well as his primary focus. A near-thirty-page essay found that, along with an excess of iron, the medicinal aspects of the waters were due to the following compounds found, per grains, in each pint of water:
Sulphate of Potassa — 2.46554 gr
Sulphate of Soda — 1.51227 gr
Sulphate of Lime — 6.28816 gr
Iodide of Sodium — 0.00728 gr
Bromide of Sodium — 0.07886 gr
Chloride of Ammonium — 9.49939 gr
Chloride of Sodium — 3.82963 gr
Chloride of Magnesium — 3.12017 gr
Nitrate of Soda — 2.02154 gr
Carbonate of Magnesia — 1.70443 gr
Proto-Carbonate of Iron — 0.05807 gr
Proto-Carbonate of Manganese — 0.01535 gr
Ammonia (united to organic matter) — 0.42285 gr
Alumina — 0.02245 gr
Silica — 0.18651 gr
In 1837, a Mr Robert Fergusson was known to be “the keeper of the Mineral Well, Bonnington,” but much of its traditions and history have fallen outside of memory. The site was soon to become another mid-Victorian ‘Spa Well’, where local people would have to pay for water they had always used as Nature intended. In truth, the waters and its well-house were to become a place where the rich Industrialists could heal their infirm mind-bodies, hoping that the destitution they lacked emotionally and spiritually would be washed away in the sacred waters. But it didn’t last long! What little is known about it historically was best described in John Russel’s (1933) essay on Bonnington in the Old Edinburgh Club journal. He wrote:
“Just where the Bonnington mill lade joins the Water of Leith once flowed St. Cuthbert’s Well, an ancient spring named after the patron saint of the once extensive parish of St. Cuthbert’s, and like the now forgotten mineral well of St. Leonard’s near Powderhall, a relic of a superstitious age. As to when this well was so designated history is silent but it was probably before 1606, when the Leith portions of Bonnington, Pilrig and Warriston were, by the Scots Parliament, included in the Parish of North Leith…
“In May, 1750 St. Cuthbert’s Well was found to be possessed of medicinal properties. The Scots Magazine of that year refers to many persons frequenting it. The Well formed part of a building which included a pump room and a reading room. From advertisements in the periodicals of 1819 we learn that it was open from 6 o’clock in the morning and that newspapers were to be found on the table all day. The tenant also issued handbills headed “St. Cuthbert’s Mineral Well, Bonnington”, giving a chemical analysis of the water and a list of the ailments for which it had been found beneficial. The Well disappeared with the re-construction of Haig’s Distillery in 1857. It now lies beneath the buildings immediately west of the chimney stack of Messrs John Inglis and Sons.”
St. Cuthbert’s feast day was March 20 (Spring Equinox) and September 4.
A half-mile southwest of here could once be seen the waters of St. Leonard’s Well, which Ruth & Frank Morris (1982) erroneously thought to have been this Well of St. Cuthbert.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 4506 4055
Archaeology & History
Well highlighted, in 1730
The holy well of Banbury seems to have been destroyed sometime in the second-half of the 19th century, when the industrialists built over the area. When the historian Alfred Beesley (1841) wrote about it, the waters were still running. He told it to be, “a chalybeate spring, well-known and still often visited, situated on the west side of the town, a little north of the footway leading to North Newington.”
The footpath is obviously long gone—as is the well. It’s iron-bearing (chalybeate) properties would have given the waters good fortifying properties, perhaps of some renown to local people yet, according to Mr Beesley, it was a slow-flowing spring. In his brief history of the site, he also gave us the results of a chemical examination of its healing waters, telling us:
“This is called St. Stephen’s Well in a plan of Sir John Cope’s property at Banbury made in 1764. It also appears prominently as “A Well ” in an unfinished view of Banbury made in 1730 (illustrated above)….
The water of this spring is perfectly clear and colourless, having a brisk and slightly chalybeate taste. The stone channel is coated with a light red deposit, and a scum of the same colour appears on the water in parts where stagnant. The spring discharges from half a gallon to one gallon in a minute. In 32 oz. of the water at 60° are,
Carbonic Acid gas, 5 cubic inches
Hydrochlorate Magnesia, 0.21 grains.
Chloride Sodium or common Salt, 0.54
Sulphate Lime, 1.5
Carbonate Lime, 3.8
Protoxide Iron, 0.024
Silica a trace
Total weight of solid contents – 6.074″
Folklore
St. Stephen is an odd character. His annual celebration or feast day in Britain is December 26. (in eastern countries it’s a day later) Rites connected to this character are decidedly heathen in nature. From the 10th century, in England, St Stephen’s Day has been inexorably intertwined with horses, bleeding them on his feast days, apparently for their own health. Water blessed by priests on this day would be kept for the year and used as a medicine for horses during that time. Also on this day, young lads would “hunt the wren” and, once caught, impale it on top of a long pole and take it from house to house. Despite this curious motif being a puzzle to folklore students, Mircea Eliade (1964) explained how this symbolism is extremely archaic and “the bird perched on a stick is a frequent symbol in shamanic circles.”
Eliade, Mircea, Shamanism – Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press 1964.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Johnson, William P., The History of Banbury, G. Walford: Banbury 1860.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
