A long long way to go for a single little spring! From Kirriemuir town centre go up the B956 Kinnordy Road, going straight across at the crossroads up the countryside lane towards Lednathie (signposted 8 miles): dead straight, long-and-winding, up-and-over…. Stick to this single road, all along, ignoring all turn-off junctions until, once reaching the hamlet of Easter Lednathie, stay awake for the turn up to Glenprosen, 2 miles along, over the bridge. Turn left and a few hundred yards along go over the next little bridge until you reach the “Private Road” sign, then walk up the track past Katy’s Cottage. ¾-mile along just before Balnaboth, keep your eyes peeled to the left for a splatter of quartz rocks with a spring of water thereby. At long long last, you’ve reached your destination!
Archaeology & History
Miles to the winding north of Kirriemuir, in the depth of the olde mountains, this clear spring of iron-bearing water (still fresh and drinkable) was, earlier in the 20th century, covered over by someone-or-other and surrounded by straight slabs of stone. The waters were maintained however, by the builders who cut a small hole into the moss-embolded rock allowing this pure water to still run freely for all to use…
Shown on the early OS-maps, its sacrality or holy association would seem to be lost from the tongues of the older folk, most of whom seem long gone from this beautiful glen-to-nowhere. The only remaining religious connection we might have relating to the place comes from the ruined 17th century chapel less than 250 yards away to the west on the slope above the track, from where a singular stone-lined footpath runs dead straight to the well.
But another important feature found here is the large scatter of quartz rocks a few yards away from the water source. They are in disarray but would seem to have once been built around the spring where it first emerged from beneath the ground, then being cast aside to their present positions when the more modern stone structure was built above it. We can’t prove this with any certainty, but there are a number of other holy wells with this quartz-defining feature elsewhere in Scotland: the St Mary’s Well at Callander and Beltane Well of Kenmore to name just two.
References:
Robertson, D.O., Long-Ago Legends of Clova, W.P. Nimmo: Edinburgh 1872.
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.
I add this brief site profile in the hope that we can clarify, one way or the other, whether the report of a stone circle described in a letter by G.W. Zealand to the Ordnance Survey in November, 1978, has any basis in fact. Zealand said that the structure comprised of “red stone, not very large” at Millden in Glen Esk. Perhaps local people or megalithic explorers who may visit this area could try locating it so we can confirm it as real, or strike it from the listings. It is included in the Canmore catalogues. I must point out that there were a large number of prehistoric sites in this area destroyed in recent centuries, meaning that this report may be authentic.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 4007 3046
Also Known as:
Grey Friar’s Well
Archaeology & History
This is another one of Dundee’s lost holy wells (see also the Lady Well, the Nine Wells, St Clement’s Well, St Mary’s Well and Sinavey Well), around which the town was first built. Its cold fresh waters were located less than a hundred yards north of the old Houff graveyard in the middle of town, or where Alex Maxwell (1884) described as upon “the sunny slopes of the Gray Friars’ meadows.”
Maxwell told us that this sacred site was the most favoured of the the holy wells in the area, having been dedicated to St Francis of Assisi by the monks who built the medieval Grey Friars monastery, whose ruins lie beneath the Houff graveyard. After the destruction of the priory in the 16th century, the holy well and surrounding meadows came under the ownership of the local council. The well had become ruinous and so was repaired back to its old condition, but a few decades later had become very neglected again and was ordered to be closed. It was mentioned in several early land rental documents, including this from 1630 which told,
“That haugh or meadow lying on the south side of the Tentour Hill, and on the east side of the meadow called Monorgan’s croft, togidder with the lands lying about St. Francis’ well, were set for the yearly penny mail of fifty-ane pounds.”
The most extensive description of it came from Alex Maxwell’s own pen, and I reproduce it here in full. He began by speaking of the other holy wells of Our Lady and St. Clement’s in Dundee, but told us that,
“The most important of them was the Gray Friars’ well, which came out of the rising ground westward from where the High School is built, and had been dedicated to the honour of St. Francis, the founder of the order — a man of exalted character, whom Dean Milman calls “most blameless and gentle.” The water, which ran perennially and was of singular purity, had no doubt been highly venerated in the days of the old Church, and it continued to be much esteemed, and even to maintain somewhat of its traditional sanctity, long after the memory of the good man whose name it bore had become forgotten.
“When the Friars’ house was in ruins, and the gardens laid waste, St. Francis’ well did not escape unharmed. One austere iconoclast—James Patrie was his name—had probably been offended at its sculptural reminiscences of the old faith, and he cast it down. When arraigned to answer for this,
“he confest and grantit that he took down the common well callit the Friar well, quhilk servit the haill town with guid and wholesome water, and referrit him in the Bailies’ and Council’s will thereanent; and they being advisit with his offence, declarit that he sail pay for the reparation of the said well and common warks the soum of ten pounds; always, gif he big and repair the well as Weill as it wes of before with lime mortar, or Pasch next, this pain to be remitted; otherwise, the day past and the well nocht biggit, to pay the said soum but favour.”
James, however, proved contumacious; the day did pass, and the well still lay in ruins. But he got further time, for the Council not yet having possession of the monastic lands, had not chosen to act arbitrarily, and
“James Patrie was ordained to repair the Friar well conform to the last act, under the pain contenit thereintil, betwix the date hereof and Whitsunday;”
and he probably then proceeded to restore it into good condition, as we do not find any other ordinance on the matter. He had not, however, erected it very substantially; for, before thirty years had elapsed, the structure was again ruinous, and the Council resolved
“that St. Francis’ well be of new biggit and made close, so that na common access be had thereto.”
“The meadow land of the Gray Friars which lay around the well, formed a pleasant open space for the use of the old burgh, and it was always held in much regard. Early in last century, the water from the Lady well was impounded and conveyed in pipes for supplying other cisterns throughout the town ; but St. Francis’ spring, which was softer and purer, was left undisturbed to flow down the grassy slope in its natural course ; and when the place became appropriated for homely purposes, and upon
“Its verdant braes,
The lasses used to wash and spread their claes,”
“the gossiping naiads made the meadow very lively as they plashed in the brimming basins of the Friars’ old well, or filled their pitchers at the fresh fountain, or sprinkled the water in crystal showers over their snowy linen. About the time that the ground was sacrificed for the erection of buildings, a dyer in the neighbourhood sank a well which evidently reached the source of the spring and drained it off. Years afterwards, when the place had been overbuilt, he ceased to use his well, and the stream, returning to its old course, found access into the lower part of a church which now covers the site of the fountain, much to the dismay of the deacons. The water was then carried off elsewhere, and will be seen no more ; and the remembrance of those virtues which belonged to the once famous well will soon have passed away.”
In Christian lore, St Francis’ festival day was October 4.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 4026 3072
Also Known as:
Ladies Well
Our Lady’s Well
Archaeology & History
One of at least five sacred wells that could once be visited in Dundee: like its compatriots they have all fallen under the hammer of the Industrialists and flow no more. Our Lady’s Well could once be seen near the ancient Chapel of our Lady, “flowing from under the Chapelshade Braes,” said Maxwell (1884), its waters “bright and sparkling,” but today it has been drained and laid to rest beneath the road. Its memory however, has been preserved in the modern place-names of the Ladywell Roundabout and the nearby Ladywell Avenue.
The well was mentioned as far back as 1409 when, as Alex Lamb (1895) found, it was referred to in a contract between the Constable of Dundee and the burgesses. It flowed freely until the beginning of the 18th century when, as Maxwell told us, “the water from the Lady well was impounded and conveyed in pipes for supplying other cisterns throughout the town.” Nicoll (1923) thought there may have been a well-house built around it. Previously, the water from here was one of many springs and burns that fed the larger Castle Burn down to the sea.
The generally approved idea that Lady Wells derive from St Mary was questioned in this instance in Colville’s (1822) survey, who thought, not unreasonably, that
“As a convent stood near the same place, it is more probable that it took the name of the Ladies-well, from the fair sisterhood, who must have been the guardians of it and of all the places near them.”
He may be right. Colville also brought attention to a second water supply close by that seemed to be of equal importance in a pragmatic sense as the Lady Well herself. In danger of being destroyed, the author brought attention to it and insisted on securing its survival. He wrote:
“A little to the west, and adjoining to the Lady-well, is a large garden lying on a gentle declivity, called the Lady-well Yard,— in which there is a most abundant spring of excellent water, that was never known to fail in the driest summer, even when the Lady-well was so drained as not to afford supply to the inhabitants. Should this be employed for a steam-engine in the present prosperous state of manufactures, a pit for the water would require to be sunk, which might materially injure the Lady- well. It would certainly, therefore, be of advantage to the town, if the Magistrates could procure this property,— which would prevent the Lady- well being endangered; and the addition of this copious spring would at all seasons afford a plentiful supply of excellent water to the town.”
Holy Well (lost): OS Grid Reference – NO 401 301 (approximation)
Archaeology & History
Cited just once in the “Register of the Great Seal” (Registrum Magni Sigilli) in the year 1512 CE, this Fontis Beate Marie, or Well of St. Mary has long since disappeared. Its exact location in the city has been forgotten, but it seems likely to have been close to St. Mary’s Church. Further research is needed.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 4035 3024
Also Known as:
Bishop’s Well
Saint’s Well
Archaeology & History
One of at least five sacred wells that formerly existed in old Dundee, this one dedicated to St. Clement was associated with the ancient church, also of his name. It could be found a short distance south of the church—itself long gone—”rising out of a knoll overhanging the river bank,” wrote Alexander Maxwell (1884) and possessing considerable renown to local people. This great Dundee historian found several early references to it in old council registers: one of which, from 1589, described a conflict regarding the building of a school on land owned by Andro Renkyne. And it was on this piece of land where St. Clement’s Well emerged. The school was built and then Rankyne built a gable up to the edge of the school but, in doing so, cut off his own access to the holy well. This somewhat short-sighted action of Renkyne’s was subsequently remedied in 1607 by Dundee Council. Maxwell told us:
“The Council “grantit him licence to strike furth ane windok in the north side wall of his tenement in St. Clement’s kirkyard, near to the well in the schoolhouse closs, or within the bounds of the said well, to the effect he may draw water furth of the well to his awn service, with this provision that he hald the windok continually close, except at sic time as the water is drawn thereat, and that he close up the windok with stane wark quhenever he beis requirit.”
The waters—”reputed to have sovereign virtues”— were protected and covered by an old well-house. When Alex Lamb (1895) came to write about it he told that it was of a circular form with “unmistakable traces of splendid workmanship.” On its stone roof was what seemed to be a somewhat crude carving of a bishop and because of this it acquired the name “Bishop’s Well.” Another title given it by some locals was the Saint’s Well.
In the middle of the 19th century the remains of the well-house could still be seen, albeit in a state of neglect between the school building and Renkeyne’s house. But their end was nigh. Maxwell continued:
“When the buildings were demolished a few years ago, the saint’s old well — its water yet pelucid and fresh — was discovered at the angle where the school joined to Andro’s house. Above it was the window which he struck furth for drawing water; but it had long before been built up and the purpose of it forgotten, and its curiously recessed position and uncouth masonry only served as a puzzle for ingenious antiquaries.”
Subsequently he lamented the demise of the well telling how it had “been covered over by the extension of the Townhouse.”
Folklore
Alexander Maxwell (1891) told how the church was used as a shrine by local people and fishermen, as St. Clement of Rome had been cast into the sea chained to an anchor and so became the patron saint of sailors. He thought such properties, “would, no doubt, be in request for the supply of ships.”
St. Clement himself was a very early, first century saint, said to have died in 99 CE. His festival date is 23 November.
References:
Lamb, Alexander C., Dundee: Its Quaint and Historic Buildings, G. Petrie: Dundee 1895.
Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 486 339?
Archaeology & History
The only reference I can find about this site is in A.J. Warden’s (1880) massive survey of the county of Angus—previously called ‘Forfarshire’—where, in his discussion of the hillforts of the area, he told us that,
“About a quarter of a mile distant from The Laws is the Gallow Hill of Ethiebeaton. In a field, a little to the south, there formerly stood a large upright stone called Tods Stone.”
All trace of it disappeared when quarrying operations were undertaken there, also destroying a number of prehistoric tombs close by. The monolith may have had some association with the tombs, but we cannot be certain.
The name of the stone,tods, probably derives from the word ‘foxes’, although we cannot be certain of this either, as there are a variety of other Scottish dialect words relating to ‘tod’that may have had bearing on the name.
If anyone has any further information about this long lost site, we would gladly welcome it.
References:
Grant, William (ed.), The Scottish National Dictionary – volume 9, SNDA: Edinburgh 1973.
Warden, Alex J., Angus or Forfarshire – volume 1, Charles Alexander: Dundee 1880.
Many ways here, but from the nearest town of Brechin, take the minor north road out of town (not the B966) to Little Brechin, heading roughly north to the renowned hillforts of White and Brown Cathertun (ask a local if needs be). Park up and walk up the slope to White Cathertun, following the immense walling around to the right. Near where you reach the opposite side of the hillfort, look down the rocky slopes for a large boulder, just on the edge of the walling. You’ll find it!
Archaeology & History
Although Canmore include this cup-marked stone in the site-profile of the incredible White Caterthun hillfort, it should really have an entry of its own, as it’s age and nature very probably pre-date the construction of the giant fortress. But, this aside, if you’re visiting the hillfort (an incredible place!), at least give this heavily cup-marked stone your attention too.
Looking across the carving
Close-up of the main cups
Probably neolithic in origin, there was a small portable cup-marked companion found 30 yards away, suggesting perhaps that a cairn might once have stood on this hilltop—but tradition is silent on the matter. No other petroglyphs of any note have been located nearby, which is unusual. In all probability other carvings remain undiscovered, particularly in the hills immediately to the north.
Consisting of around 80 cup-marks, several of which appear linked by carved lines, the stone has been bound together with concrete and metal bolts after some idiot damaged it in the 19th century. It was first described by Miss Christian Maclagan (1875) in her stunning megalithic survey of the period. She wrote:
“To Sir James Simpson’s list of cup-markings we are able to add the one at the Caterthun, on a large block 6 feet long, which is quite covered with very distinctly cut cup-markings. It is a block of basalt…and the cups are so very clear and sharp in their lines that their freshness can only be accounted for by the stone having lain with the markings buried in the ground. This curious stone has been quite recently broken in two. It is a pity to see it so destroyed, because it is valuable to the antiquary in helping to establish a very remote antiquity for the fortification. It lies on the north side of the fort, among a chaos of stones, having probably once formed the side of a gateway.”
A few years later the late great J. Romilly Allen (1882) visited the site and gave us his description, telling:
“On the west side (of the hillfort), 10 yards north of the boundary of the fir plantation that covers one-half of the hill is a cup-marked boulder… The stone has been broken in two, and one portion of it lies at the foot of the stone rampart just above the first outer ditch, whilst the other half has been rolled down the hill by some mischievous person with more muscles than brains, and is to be found immediately below, where its further progress was arrested by coming in contact with the outermost wall. The two fragments when placed together measure 6 feet 9 inches long by 3 feet wide, and 1 foot 9 inches thick. The stone is greenish quartzose slate, and on its upper surface are carved eighty cups, varying from 1½ to 2½ inches diameter. In two cases two cups are united into one by a connecting groove.”
J. Sherriff’s 1995 drawing
J.R. Allen’s 1882 drawing
The most recent description and illustration of the stone is in John Sherriff’s (1995) survey. When we visited the carving recently we noticed three cup-marks etched onto the side of the stone, with a possible carved line running above one of them—but due to the bright sunlight on of the day of our visit, it was difficult to say whether this was a geological in nature or not (bright daylight can hamper good visibility of many carvings). Check it out!
From Alyth village, take the B954 road north for several miles. At the sharp bend of the road when you’ve crossed the Bridge of Craigisla, a few hundred yards along take the next road left. Barely 100 yards along, stop! Walk into the where the large farm-buildings are and keep your eyes peeled on the ground, just in front of the first farm building. A large long stone measuring about 7-feet (2.1m) is thereby beneath your very feet!
Archaeology & History
Formal Stone, laying down
At the edge of the farm-buildings this all-but-forgotten standing stone lays prostrate, almost hidden, and slowly being covered by the soil and grasses, nearly falling away past the eyes of history. It’s a pity, as this fallen stone would have stood some six-feet upright, with a couple of feet of it underground. When it was mapped by the Ordnance Survey lads in the 1860s, a portion of the stone remained standing. This was echoed in the survey of the Object Name Book in 1861 in which the buildings of Formal were described:
“A fine farm house and offices the property of the late Robert Smith Esqr. of Balharry – in the stackyard is a broken standing stone, to which my attention was drawn by Alexander Annand of Blackdykes and the (parish) Minister.”
Thankfully the present-day farmer here would like to have the stone stood back upright, so hopefully its resurrection aint gonna be too far away.
Formal Stone, looking east
Formal Stone, looking south
The stone isn’t lying in its original upright position. It used to stand nearly 10 yards east of here, and was knocked down and rolled into its present spot when an earlier adjacent building was erected. Another large boulder in the corner where the walls meet (at NO 25585 54044), just through the gates, may also have had some megalithic relationship with the fallen monolith.
One in a cluster of at least seven souterrains that could once be found to the east of Alyth, this was first described in notes by David Whyte in the 1845 New Statistical Account as being “about a mile to the south” of those at Barns of Airlie. Although Whyte told that the two places “are separated by a deep hollow but are within view of each other,” the explorer F.T. Wainwright (1963) was unable to locate the precise spot, despite several visits. Three earlier writers (Anderson, Jervise and Warden) merely echoed notes of there being a cluster of sites hereby and made no personal explorations of their own. Without the expertise of local people, the exact status of this underground chamber remains unknown…
Royal Commission of Ancient & Historicc Monuments, Scotland, The Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Scotland: Central Angus, RCAHMS: Edinburgh 1983.
Wainwright, F T., The Souterrains of Southern Pictland, RKP: London 1963.