Carlie Craig is the tree- covered cliff, centre of photo
If you’re coming from Blairlogie, a half-mile west of the village, take the B998 road to the university, but turn right up the first road that runs uphill into the trees. But if you’re coming from Stirling or Bridge of Allan, keep your eyes peeled for the barely visible B998 at the crossroads and go up the hill, and along, for a good mile, below the Uni, past the factory, then up the small road on your left. Up this road go past the church another 100 yards and you’ll see the derelict ruins of Logie Kirk on your right. Right above the ruin you’ll see the tree-lined cliff immediately behind. This is the Carlie Craig!
Folklore
Carlie Craig on the 1862 map
The tree-covered Carlie Crags above the old ruined church and graveyard of Logie Kirk immediately below (thought to have been built in 1684) has long been associated with legends of old witches. Deriving its name from ‘carlin’, a witch or old woman (cailleach), the Crags were traditionally the place of heathen rites (authentic ones, not your plastic pagan types). In David Morris’ (1935) essay on the local township, he told the common story that “an elder in Logie Kirk was of the opinion that the Carla’ Craig…was haunted.” At the end of the 19th century, Morris remembered a local lady known as ‘Ailie’, who was said by many old folk to be the traditional “witch of Logie.”
“Sickly children were brought to her for her blessing. Occasionally people came from as far as Stirling on this errand. Her method of giving the blessing was to blow her breath on the child, and this was supposed to ward off evil. It was also said that anyone buried in Logie Kirkyard on the first day of May, Hallowe’en, or other days of that kind, without her blessing, would not rest in his grave…”
Another legend told that,
“around 1720 witches were believed to rendezvous with the Evil One (i.e. the devil) who would appear in the form of a large black dog.”
A lengthier account of the belief in witchcraft and animistic pre-christian rites above the crags was told by Charles Rogers (1853):
“About the second decade of last century, there lived in the parish of Logie several ill-favoured old women, to whom the reputation of witchcraft was confidently attached. They were believed to hold nocturnal dialogues and midnight revels with the Evil One, and Carlie Crag was regarded as one of their places of rendezvous. Satan, though he was believed to appear to them in various forms, was understood, in his interviews with the dreaded sisterhood, to appear most frequently in the aspect of a large shaggy dog, in which form it was alleged he had repeatedly been seen by the minister. An elder of the kirk had been returning of an evening from a shooting excursion among the hills, with a trusty musket, which he had picked up some years before on the field of Sheriffmuir, and discovering on the top of Carlie an animal realizing the description of the Satanic mastiff, resolved to try upon it the effects of a shot. He knelt down cautiously near the foot of the crag, and after ejaculating a short prayer, and slipping into his musket a silver coin, fired with trembling heart but steady aim. His victim, evidently shot dead, tumbled to the base, and the delighted and astonished elder lost no time in personally communicating to the minister the success of his wonderful adventure. Though not a little superstitious, the minister was somewhat sceptical as to the mysterious dog being really dead. He however agreed to accompany his elder next morning to the foot of the crag to inspect the carcase; but on reaching the spot, they found the remains of no shaggy dog or evil genius, but the lifeless form of the beautiful pet goat of a poor and aged woman, a much respected parishioner. The minister and elder both shed tears. The wicked dog still lived, the innocent goat had perished. The elder however took credit to himself for his good intentions and valorous intrepidity ; and the minister deemed it proper to improve the subject in his pulpit prelections on the following Sabbath. Discoursing on the subject of resistance to the Devil, he remarked, that the Evil One might assume numerous shapes and forms; that he went about as a roaring lion was declared in the Word, but he might take to himself various other aspects. He might even appear as a black colley dog.” But whatever form he may assume,” added the minister, ” he cannot be overcome or destroyed by powder and shot. There is a gun, however, that will shoot him, and it is this — it is the Bible. Shoot him then, every one of you, with this gun, and he shall be shot.”
Whether the vicar’s biblical superstitions were adopted by local people—who were so much more used to the living animism of landscape and natural cycles—is questionable. The crag is a fine site for ritual magick and its associative devil-lore probably derives from Pictish shamanistic practices, remains of which are evident across the Scottish hillls and northern England, where they survived for some considerable time…
References:
Morris, David, B., “Causewayhead a Hundred Years Ago”, in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society, 1935.
Roger, Charles, A Week at Bridge of Allan, Adam & Charles Black: Edinburgh 1853.
Watson, Angus, The Ochils – Placenames, History, Tradition, Perth & Kinross District Libraries 1995.
Not included in Burl’s (2000) magnum opus, it looks as if this place has long since gone – but perhaps a local or a wanderer might find remnants of it still there somewhere. The only thing I’ve so far found about it is in Martin Martin’s journey here in 1695, where he described this “stone circle in the sea” thus:
“On the east-side of the village Rowdil, there is a circle of stone, within 8 yards of the shore: it is about 3 fathoms under water, and about 2 stories high: it is in form broader above than below, like to the lower story of a kiln: I saw it perfectly on one side, but the season being then windy, hindered me from a full view of it. The natives say that there is such another circle of less compass in the Pool Borodil, on the other side of the bay.”
Local people say that the structure is a natural one, with others of a similar nature found close by. Does anyone know more about this – and perhaps about the other apparent circle at Borasdal, less than a mile to the west?
References:
Martin, Martin, A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland in 1695, Eneas Mackay: Stirling 1934.
Corrycharmaig 3 stone, with Meall Dhuin Croisg rising…
Go thru Killin and, just past the Bridge of Lochay hotel, take the tiny road on your left. Go down here for 3 miles till you pass the gorgeous Stag Cottage (with its superb cup-and-rings in the field across the road) for another 300 yards, until you see Duncroisk Farmhouse set back on your right. On the other side of the road, go thru the giant deer-gates (close ’em behind you) to the river-bridge and across it. Walk along the track till you reach the turning to Corrycharmaig House on the right (over the stream), but here, go up into the field thru the gate. Walk up the hill ahead of you with its trees on the left, walking up onto the grassy level, then up again to the rounded knoll another 100 yards up. You’re here!
Archaeology & History
This is the most visually impressive of the set of four cup-marked rocks along this ridge — although if you visit here when the light is poor, or the sky’s overcast, you’ll be lucky if you can actually see much of the material. For example, I counted 38 cups on this particular stone on a day when the sky was bright, but upon checking later, found that Mr Morris (1981) described there being, “40 widely scattered cups of which, however, 29 well-defined cups are in a compact group of which 6 are in line.” Whereas more recently the Canmore website told there to be,
Corrycharmaig-3 carvingClose-up of line of cups
“At least 48 cupmarks are visible on the most westerly exposure. The cupmarks range in size from 25mm in diameter and 5mm in depth to 100mm in diameter and 40mm in depth. A straight line of six cupmarks arranged close together is orientated running from NW to SE.”
This line of six cups is very distinct and stands out as the most notable aspect on this carving, probably because it gives a sense of ‘order’ or linearity, whereas the rest of the carving (as with oh so many of them, thankfully) possess that non-linear feature of scattered cups and lines, dissolving reason and ego, and eliciting the natural meditative state, if one so cares to allow. On our most recent visit here, our eyes and fingers traced what appeared to be the faint remains of a carved line running along the bottom edge of the row of cups and then bending around the bottom cup in the same line — a little bit like the carved lines which run around the edges of the row of cups on Ilkley Moor’s Idol Stone. You can just make this ‘line’ out in the photo, below.
Cup-mark and flintClusters of cups and faint line
On our most recent visit to the site when we stayed at Corrycharmaig house below (huge thanks to Sylvana!), other sections of the carving were visible that we’d missed before, highlighting at least 45 cup-marks that we counted. Several of the cups had been exposed by animals (sheep or deer – we couldn’t tell) cutting into the soaking wet earth and in carefully checking a couple of cups whose edges were exposed, found a small worked flint within one of the cups! I looked at it, held it, puzzled over it, then laid it back where we’d found it. You can see it in the photo here, on the right.
This carving obviously grows on you with time. And like its carved companions of Corrycharmaig 1, 2 and 4 both left and right of here, the stone rests within a natural theatre of dreams, eliciting — if only in a slight way — the non-focal perspective necessary to receive the carvings as its executor knew…
Morris, Ronald W.B., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Southern Scotland, BAR 86: Oxford 1981.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Stirling District, Central Region, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 1979.
Follow the same directions to get to the Aiggin Stone. Once here, go over the stile by the fence opposite towards the great geological ridge less than half-a-mile south. Head for the triangulation pillar right on the top of the ridge, and there, about 20 yards past it, higher-up than the triangulation pillar at the very top of Blackstone Edge, is Robin Hood’s legendary stone bed!
Archaeology & History
Robin Hoods Bed, looking north
There’s very little of archaeological interest known up here, save a mass of flints and scrapers that have been found scattering the moorland heights hereby, from the mesolithic period onwards. But we have a relative lack of neolithic to Iron Age remains — officially anyhow! A possible standing stone can be found a few hundred yards south, but there’s little else.
The rock that’s given its name to Robin Hood’s Bed overlooks the very edge of the ridge, detached from the main section, with a large and very curious nature-worn ‘bed’ on its very crown, more than 4 feet wide and about 7 feet long, into which one comfortably lays. It was named in the boundary records of the township of Rishworth in 1836, where it describes other historical stones, saying:
“thence under Robin Hood’s Bed to a stone marked ‘W.S.G.S. 1742, 1770, 1792, and the following figures and letters, ‘1826 I.L.S.'”
Folklore
This enormous millstone grit boulder, sitting 1550 feet upon the high moors is, according to legend, a place where our famous legendary outlaw once slept. Whilst sleeping here, some of his followers were said to have kept guard and looked over him.
Robin Hood’s Bed, from below
A rather odd piece of folklore recited by Jessica Lofthouse (1976) is that “no winds ever blow” at Robin Hood’s Bed, who then went on to tell of the time she visited the place. Walking along the rocky ridge where the stone bed is found, the winds were such that “we had almost been blown over the edge,” until just a few hundred yards further when they eventually reached the fabled site, Nature granted them a sudden calmness unknown to all the high moorlands around, affirming the curious folklore.
The ceremonial stone ‘bed’
Robin Hood’s Bed itself was undeniably an important ceremonial site for both rites of passage and ritual magick to our indigenous ancestors. The place screams of it! It also seems very likely that the hero figure of Robin Hood replaced an earlier mythological character, akin to the fabled female creation deity, the cailleach, found commonly in more northern and Irish climes, whose echoes can still be found around our Pennine hills. For we find that Robin Hood was said to have taken a large boulder from here and with a mighty heave threw it six miles across the landscape due west into the setting sun, where it eventually landed at Monstone Edge, near Rochdale! Local people were so astounded at this feat that the stone was given the name of Robin Hood’s Quoit.
7ft tall natural standing stone
The old place-name authority Eilert Ekwall (1922) related the folklore that the giant ridge of Blackstone Edge “is said to refer to a boundary stone between Yorkshire and Lancashire.” Which may be the curious upright standing stone, more than 7 feet tall, less than 50 yards NNE which gives a very distinct impression of having been deliberately stood upright, amidst this mass of loose geological droppings! It would be helpful if there was a geologist in the house who could tell us decisively one way or the other…
Another etymological possibility that has been posited relates to the word ‘bed’ at this site. Ordinarily it would be sensible to attach the word to the great stone ‘bed’ atop of the poised boulder. But with the attached legends symptomatic of prehistoric monuments, it would not be improper to highlight that the old Welsh word ‘bedd‘ (a place-name element that is not uncommon in Lancashire) means, “a grave or tomb”. And this site would be ideal for such an old prehistoric cairn…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Ekwall, E., The Place-Names of Lancashire, Manchester University Press 1922.
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Hale: London 1976.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 3, Cambridge University Press 1961.
Follow the same directions to find the Blackheath Circle, but instead of turning onto the golf course, keep going up the steep road until you reach the T-junction at the top; then turn left and go along the road for about 200 yards, past the second track on the left, keeping your eyes peeled across the small moorland to your left where you can see the rocks rising up. Walk along the footpath towards them. You can’t really miss the place!
Archaeology & History
The Bride at sunset – the fallen Groom to her left
If you’re a heathen or geologist and you aint seen this place, check it out – you won’t be disappointed! First mentioned in 1491, this has always been a place of some repute. Its legendary companion, the ‘Groom’, lays resting on the Earth after being felled sometime in the 17th century.
F.A. Leyland’s 1860s drawing
A beautiful, remarkable and powerful site of obvious veneration. First described in local deeds as early as 1491, there are a great number of severely weathered boulders all round here, many like frozen rock giants haunting a magickal landscape. The modern lore ascribes the stones to be dedicated to Bride, goddess of the Brigantian people. And like Her legendary triple-aspect, we find here in the landscape a triple aspect to the outcrops themselves: to the west are the Bride Stones; to the east, the Little Bride Stones; with the Great Bride Stones as the central group, surveying everything around here.
At the main complex is what is singularly known as the Bride itself: a great smooth upright pillar of stone fourteen feet tall and nine feet wide at the top, yet only about two feet wide near its base, seemingly defying natural law. Watson (1775) described, next to the Bride herself, “stood another large stone, called the Groom…(which) has been thrown down by the country people” – probably under order of the Church. Crossland (1902) told how the Bride also acquired the title, “T’ Bottle Neck,” because of the stone’s simulacrum of an upturned bottle.
The Bride & her Groom (laid on the earth)The ‘head’ or top of the Bride Stone
Scattered across the tops of the many rocks hereby are many “druid basins” as Harland and Wilkinson (1882) described them. Many of these are simply basins eroded over the millenia by the natural elements of wind and rain. It is possible that some of these basins were carved out by human hands, but it’s nigh on impossible to say for sure those that were and those that were not. If we could find a ring around at least one of them, it would help — but in all our searches all round here, we’ve yet to locate one complete cup-and-ring. So we must remain sceptical.
On the mundane etymological side of things, the excellent tract by F.A. Leyland (c.1867) suggested the Bride Stones actually had nothing to do with any goddess or heathenism, but derived simply from,
“the Anglo-Saxon adjective Βñáð, signifying broad, large, vast — hence the name of the three groups known as the Bride Stones. The name of The Groom, conferred on the prostrate remains, appears to have been suggested by the fanciful definition of the Saxon Brád, as given by (Watson).”
However, the modern place-name authority A.H. Smith (1963:3:174) says very simply that the name derives from “bryd, a bride.”
A “rude stone” was described in one tract as being a short distance below this great rock outcrop; it was turned into a cross by the local christian fanatics and moved a few hundred yards west, to a site that is now shown on modern OS-maps as the Mount Cross.
Folklore
Although local history records are silent over the ritual nature of these outcrops, tradition and folklore cited by the antiquarian Reverend John Watson (1775) tell them as a place of pagan worship. People were said to have married here, although whether such lore evolved from a misrepresentation of the title, Bride, is unsure. In the present day though there have been a number of people who have married here in recent years.
If the Brigantian goddess was venerated here, the date of the most active festivities would have been February 1-2, or Old Wives Feast day as it was known in the north. The modern witches Janet and Stewart Farrar, who wrote extensively about this deity (1987), said of Bride: “one is really speaking of the primordial Celtic Great Mother Herself,” i.e., the Earth Mother.
Telling of further lore, Watson said that weddings performed here in ages past stuck to an age-old tradition:
“during the ceremony, the groom stood by one of these pillars, and the bride by the other, the priests having their stations by the adjoining stones, the largest perhaps being appropriated to the arch-druid.”
New Age author Monica Sjoo felt the place “to have a special and uncanny power.” This almost understates the place: it is truly primal and possesses the virtues of strength, energy, birth and solace.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Crossland, Charles, “Place-Names in the Parish of Halifax in Relation to Surrounding Natural Features,” in Halifax Naturalist, volume 7, 1902.
Farrar, Janet & Stewart, The Witches’ Goddess, Hale: London 1987.
Harland, John & Wilkinson, T.T., Lancashire Folklore, John Heywood: Manchester 1882.
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 1963.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Follow the same directions to get to Bordley’s Druid’s Altar circle. Where the little rough car-parky-bit happens to be by the cattle-grid, look up the sloping field where the wall runs up in a line and follow it up on foot. A coupla hundred yards up you’ll see a small craggy outcrop in front of you and another line of drystone walling in the corner. Just below this craggy outcrop you’ll notice a raised embankment comprising a line of small rocks running along the edge of the hill. This is the first bitta prehistoric walling that makes up a part of the settlement system. From hereon, follow y’ nose along and up the hill and look around. The settlement’s all around here!
Archaeology & History
This is quite an extensive area of prehistoric (seemingly Iron Age) enclosures on the top and around the edges of the unnamed rocky peak at the top of the large open Lantern Holes field. I’m not aware of any excavation work that may have taken place at this site, so please excuse me of any errors in the description that follows. (if anyone’s got an excavation report of the site, I’d love to read it!)
As with the many other settlements and enclosures in this region, much of it comprises of extensive stonework built up into and against the geological limestone bedrock either side of this hilltop site. Huge lines of prehistoric walling, measuring anything between one and three yards across, runs for hundreds of yards in and around this set of enclosures. We also find several distinct and well-preserved examples of old hut circles (one of which appears to have been re-used as a sheep shelter in more recent centuries) dotted around the edges and in the middle of larger sections of enclosed stone walls. This is all very impressive when you consider it was done a coupla thousand years back!
Walled enclosure on south sideWalling along SW edges
Very similar in design to the prehistoric settlement enclosures on the other (south) side of the valley at Hammond Close Pasture, above the Druid’s Altar, though more extensive. Measuring roughly 340 yards (311m) along its longer southeast-northwest axis, and nearly 280 yards (254m) from east-to-west, the uppermost parts of the site have at least seven separate large elliptical ‘enclosures’ built within the rocky enclaves, made up of typical Iron Age wall systems: a series of large upright monoliths packed up by smaller packing stones all along the length of the walling (using a system that still prevails today in drystone walling techniques on our upland moors). A couple of the photos here illustrated the walling very well and give you an idea of what to look out for if you’re out wandering the region, looking for old sites.
Although the walling we see today is barren and easy to spot, remember that in the time when people built these great structures, you wouldn’t have been able to see them, as they’d have been deliberately covered over and camouflaged with dressed earth and plants. In watching people emerging from these enclosures, you’d have got the distinct impression that they literally came out of the hill itself: a motif well-known to folklorists in relation to the origin of faerie-folk and other ‘little people.’
We need to go back up here and explore this settlement a bit more, as there’s tons more to be seen. And if anyone knows of any surveys that have already been done of this site, it’d be good to read the reports, preliminary or otherwise. A rough-camping weekend is planned on the tops at the break of Spring – so contact us if you’re into joining us for the amble. I reckon there’s gonna be other sites hidden in the landscape up here that even Arthur Raistrick missed out on!
…to be continued…
References:
Raistrick, Arthur & Holmes, Paul F., Archaeology of Malham Moor, Headley Bros: London 1961.
Legendary Rock (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0728 0944
Archaeology & History
The Rocking Stone in 1720
Here we have the case of yet another rocking stone destroyed by a bunch of morons in bygone days. Although marked on the first Ordnance Survey of the region around 1850, the site had already been destroyed by then — but at least the surveyors had recorded its position in the landscape. And a dramatic and barren landscape it sat within!
It could be found high up in the middle of the moors above Brow Grains by the Wicken Stones, nearly 1400 feet above sea level, heading towards West Nab, and had lived here, safely, for untold thousands of years. But then, on Whitsun Monday morning in either 1827 or 1828, there came, wrote Joseph Hughes (1866),
“some half-dozen masons (who) planned and executed the work of destruction for a frolic. They first endeavoured to accomplish it by blasting it with gunpowder and, on the failure of this scheme, they fetched tools from Deer Hill, with which they drilled a hole and then wedged it, when the stone fell with a tremendous crash, hardly allowing the man on its summit who was drawing in the wedge to escape without injury.”
It’s a huge pity that the boulder didn’t crush him to death for his actions. At least it would have taught the halfwits a lesson (forgive me if I sound a bit harsh – but I have an increasingly lower opinion of selfish humans the older I get). Thankfully though, one hundred years before the stone was destroyed, Mr John Warburton of the Somerset Herald visited the region in 1720 and on one of the days here, took a long walk up to the Rocking Stone, from where we have this rare old drawing of the site. As Mr Ahier (1942) told us,
“His sketch plainly shows one stone superimposed upon another, and it is conceivable that the uppermost stone could be rocked on the lower one.”
There was also another Rocking Stone in the locale, it too destroyed, this time “by a former gamekeeper” no less, using the time-honoured excuse:
“because persons going to see it crossed the moor, and, in doing so during the nesting season, were liable to tread on eggs or upon young birds.”
This excuse is an even poorer one these days (as any honest ranger will tell you – which includes me in my former capacity as an assistant moorland ranger), as walking the moors causes much less damage than the moorland “management” of draining the bogs, dyke cutting, grouse-shooting, bracken control, letting the Snoots drive their vehicles over the heathlands, upgrading modern footpaths, etc. (God – I’m on a rant!)
References:
Ahier, Philip, The Legends and Traditions of Huddersfield and District, Advertiser Press: Huddersfield 1942.
Hughes, Joesph, The History of the Township of Meltham, John Russell Smith: London 1866.
Legendary Rock (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 076 163
Also Known as:
Holed Stone
Holy Stone
Whole Stone
Archaeology & History
Like many old rocking stones, this was destroyed due to quarrying operations many years ago and sadly, I believe, we have no illustrations of the place to show the site. This legendary site—also known as the ‘Holed’ or ‘Holy Stone’—is preserved in the place-name of Rocking Stone Hill and, unlike many other alleged rocking stones, actually swayed to and fro if the old records are owt to go by. Not far away (and also destroyed some 200 years back) were two stone circles which probably had some mythic relationship to this legendary rock.
The stone was first described by John Watson in his monumental History of Halifax (1775), where he told that is was,
“so situated as to be a boundary mark, dividing the two townships of Golcar and Slaightwait in the Parish of Huddersfield, adjoining to the Parish of Halifax on Wholestone Moor. The stone as measured by the late Thomas Perceval, or Royton…is 10½ feet long, 9ft 4in or 5in broad, and 5ft 3in thick. Its weight…is 18 tons, 190lbs. It rests on so small a centre, that at one particular point, a man may cause it to rock; though some years ago it was damaged a little, in this respect, by some masons, who endeavoured, but in vain, to throw it off its centre, in order to discover the principle on which so large a weight was made to move.”
Mr John Crabtree (1836) included it in his survey, and it was illustrated on the very first Ordnance Survey map in the 1840s where it was described as ‘Supposed Druidical’. But the old stone sadly didn’t last much longer. Once the self-righteous Industrialists got here, round about the year 1886, the Rocking Stone was destroyed by quarrying operations. All that remains of the place today is a small cluster of place-names..
Folklore
Thought by Watson (1775) and his contemporaries to have had druidic associations (without evidence), when Philip Ahier (1942) came exploring this area in 1936, he came upon “an old resident (who) informed me that he had sat upon the stone when a youth and had caused it to rock.”
References:
Ahier, Philip, The Legends and Traditions of Huddersfield and District, Advertiser Press: Huddersfield 1942.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Crabtree, John, Concise History of the Parish & Vicarage of Halifax, Hartley & Walker: Halifax 1836.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
This is an awesome beast! You can either approach it from Nettlehole Ridge ‘stone circle’ as I did, or take the more sensible approach and begin from Embsay village, walking up the path towards Embsay reservoir and onto the moorland heights of Crookrise Crag, 1350 feet above sea level. Worra view! But keep walking a little more, downhill, and it’ll hit you right in the face!
Archaeology & History
Fairy’s Chest, Embsay Moor
Known as an abode of the little people in the 19th century and shown on the earliest Ordnance Survey map of the region, I know of no previous accounts of this giant elongated boulder, forty feet long and nearly the same size as our legendary Hitching Stone that’s nestled below the small cliffs. The boulder is surrounded by what seems like cairn-material on all sides (though it doesn’t look prehistoric). You’re looking straight west from here, right at the three small paps of Sharp Haw, Rough Haw and Flasby Fell. If you like huge rocky outcrops, this (and others nearby) will make your day!
Folklore
Said to have been the abode of the little people in ages gone by; though even an old chap we met on our wander here told us how the legends it once held “have died with the old folk it seems.”
This is an outstanding site visible for miles around in just about every direction – so getting here is easy! If you’re coming from Harrogate, south down the A658, turn right and go thru North Rigton. Ask a local. If you’re coming north up the A658 from the Leeds or Bradford area, do exactly the same! (either way, you’ll see the crags rising up from some distance away)
Archaeology & History
Almscliffe Crags – looking east
This giant outcrop of rock rises out from the meadowlands here like a miniature volcano, visible for many miles all round. The history and legends surrounding the aged edifice are prodigious and the view from its tops on a fine day is one to be remembered. It is likely, although there is little corroborative historical evidence, that is was an “omphalos”, or navel centre of the universe for the local people many centuries ago. A great cutting runs through its centre and “runs from nearly north to south, and forms the boundary between the townships of Rigton and Stainburn, so that a portion of the rock is in each township.” On the respective sides of this division are carved the letters “T.F.” and “E.L.”, being the initials of the families who owned the land here in olden days, Thomas Fawkes [of the legendary Guy Fawkes’ family] and Edwin Lascelles, of the ancient Harewood family.
Although Almscliffe Crags have been described in a great many local history books, it almost beggars belief to find it omitted from all the ancient mystery or “sacred sites” books ever written. Curious… Such lesser sites as Alderley Edge, the Cow and Calf rocks, Kilburn’s White Horse, Twelve Apostles stone circle, and many more, whilst having their respective virtues, don’t touch this place for ritual or sacred intent.
First described in the early 13th century records of Fountains Abbey, A.H. Smith (1961) thought the name of Almscliffe itself originally came from a hypothetical lady’s name, which seems an all-too-easy proclamation to make, instead of the humble option of “I don’t know”! But Smith wasn’t the only one to throw some curious ideas up about the etymology of Almscliffe. Said by some local etymologists to derive from the Celtic Al-, a rock or cliff, and mias, an altar, there are other attempts to bring its rocky form into a consensus meaning. The anglo-saxon Ael or El, being fire, and messe, or mass; and the Scandinavian Ormcliff, being the “cliff of the serpent”. In Jones’ History of Harewood (1859), he tells
“it to have derived its name from the distribution of almes, at certain times, agreeably to the tenor of legacies left to the chapel which stood there in the sixteenth century, and was at that time dedicated to the Virgin Mary.”
It’s difficult to say which one tells its true title. Many a druidic tale has also been carved into its form. Such is the nature of this site that Grainge (1871) wrote how,
“it would not be difficult to show, with the exception of the artificial temple or circle of stones, this place possesses all the accessories of that ancient worship as…typical of the worship of the sun.”
Simpson’s 1879 drawing of the Almscliffe ‘cromlech’
A remark that was even echoed by one of Yorkshire’s finest and most sober historians, Harry Speight. (1903) Grainge also pointed out that in his day there were three standing stones by the great Crags, one fallen, but “two of these rocks yet stand upright.” A few years later we find that the ranting christian writer, Henry T. Simpson (1879), described similar megalithic remains here, though his description was of a “cromlech.” (illustrated here) I can find no trace, nor further references to these relics; but think it reasonable to suggest that, perhaps, Simpson’s cromlech and Grainge’s standing stones may have been one and the same monument.
In the field 100 yards immediately north of the Crags (the one with the two rocks in it) there used to be seen the remains of some primitive early walling, suggestive of a small, early settlement site. Very little can be seen of these remains today and, as far as I’m aware, no archaeological survey was ever done of them. In all honesty, it’s highly probable that a number of other important prehistoric sites were once in evidence at varying distances around Almscliffe Crags…
Folklore
The creation myth of Almscliffe tells that, long long ago, the great giant Rombald — whose main place of residence tended to be Ilkley Moor — was having a fight with the devil upon his homeland heath. As is common in the myths of giants, the ‘devil’ picked up a great boulder and threw it at Rombald, but it missed and fell just short of the village of North Rigton, creating Almscliffe Crags. A variation of this tale tells that it was Rombald and his wife having the argument and she threw the stones to create the place. Several sites have been named as the place where the mythological argument occurred: the Cow and Calf rocks, the Great Skirtful and Little Skirtful of Stones all cited in the folktales of our Yorkshire peasants. Another variation of the tale tells that the devil was simply carrying some stones (as devils and giants are renowned to do in the folk-tales of the world) and he accidentally dropped them where the Crags now stand. Such rock-throwing tales are, once more, symptomatic of cailleach tales more commonly found in Ireland and Scotland.
There are a great many cup-markings on the top surface of these Crags, most of which seem natural, but it is not unreasonable to think that, perhaps, some may have been carved by human hands? (not sure misself) Eric Cowling (1946) sincerely believed the antiquity of some carvings here. One of them particularly, three feet across and eighteen inches deep, though seemingly natural, has for several centuries been known as the “Wart Well.” Its name is attributed to folklore that is more commonly found in Ireland and the Scottish highlands; that is, should you have a wart, prick it with a pin until a drop or two of blood drips into the water that gathers in the stone bowl, then dip your hand in afterwards. The wart is sure to vanish. Another method to achieve the same end is to merely wash the skin affliction in the water, and it will soon fade. (Interestingly, an old psychotherapist friend, afflicted with the damned things, did just this and they promptly vanished.)
A more minor creation myth tells that the stone bowls we see on top of the Crags here – including the Wart Well – was actually made when the giant Rombald stepped from his home onto the Crags and left his footprint embedded in the rock face. He was said to have made it in just one step, from the Giant Skirtful of Stones prehistoric cairn [where one legend reputes him buried].
Faerie folk were also long held to live here. On the northwest side of the Crags is the entrance to a small cave that was always known as the Faerie’s Parlour, as it was said to be an entrance to their supernatural world. In times past, many people have scrambled down into the cave, but never reached their Otherworldly paradise. William Grainge (1871) wrote how the little people “were all powerful on this hill and exchanged their imps for children of the farmers round about.” This is typical of old changeling lore! In outlying villages surrounding the Crags there is a particular excess of faerie and old heathen lore.
One very curious-sounding tale tells how a goose was sent down the hole and, after some considerable time, re-emerged 3½ miles away out from a well near Harewood Bridge. The goose is one of the many symbols of the sun and one of its primary symbolic attributes is that of winter. Interestingly perhaps, as the rock art writer Graeme Chappell has pointed out, the underground journey of the goose from Almscliffe to Harewood Bridge coincides closely with the rising of sun on morning of the winter solstice. This tale may simply be a folk remnant — and an archaic one at that — of just that event: ritualising winter solstice from these Crags. In Norse lore, shamans tell of geese carrying the great god Wotan across the skies at the coming of the Yule period.
Another ritual date that was celebrated here was Beltane, or May 1. Not only do we find many of the outlying villages possessed their own maypoles, but in 1879 Mr Simpson of Adel reported seeing Beltane fires atop of these rocks. Other meetings were made here as the Crags are spliced in half by the local boundary line, and perambulation records show that people came here during the ‘beating of the bounds’, as they used to be called. This boundary perambulation moot ingredient is what strongly implies the site to have had ritual importance. And the fact that a mass of folktales emerge from here adds to this. Then of course we have the physical situation of the Crags at the heart of the mid-Wharfedale landscape. All these ingredients combined, strongly suggest the site would have been, not just the ritual meeting place of tribal elders in pre-christian times, but an omphalos: it rises majestically from the land and all monuments gaze towards its giant form. Important giant prehistoric monuments from the hills miles away tell of myths that come and go from this proud mass of stone. Although we have other omphali just over the extended horizons from Almscliffe, this is where the World began in the creation myths of ancient times in mid-Wharfedale, at the heart of the ancient kingdom of Elmet.
But there is still more lore to be told of these rocks…
The centre piece of the Crags is known as the Altar Rocks. Upon its western side is carved the “figure of a large tree, which we take to be the monogram of the Celtic Jupiter,” says Grainge. This assumption is derived from an eighteenth century writer who, said Speight (1903), told that “Almnus and Alumnus are titles of Jupiter, to whom this high altar was dedicated.”
The highest part of the Crags, to the west, is known as Lover’s Leap where, in 1766, a daughter of a respectable Rigton farmer of the name Royston, having been disappointed in love, decided to kill herself. She jumped, so legend reputes, from a point some sixty feet above ground, but a strong wind blowing at the time caught hold of her dress and carried her through the air until she landed safely in an adjoining field with naught but a sprained thumb! The said lady realised the stupidity of her ways and was said to have lived out a long and fine life.
In recent years earthlights (UFOs) have been seen floating above and around the great outcrop. It is likely that these were the same things which, in days of olde, the people would call the faerie. I highly recommend visiting the place!
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Bogg, Edmund, From Eden Vale to the Plains of York, James Miles: Leeds 1895.
Bogg, Edmund, Higher Wharfeland, James Miles: Leeds 1904
Cowling, E.T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Eliade, Mircea, Patterns in Comparative Religion, Sheed & Ward: London 1958.
Grainge, William, History & Topography of Harrogate and the Forest of Knaresborough, J.R. Smith: London 1871.
Jones, John, The History and Antiquities of Harewood, Simpkin Marshall: London 1859.
Simpson, William, Archaeologia Adelensis, W.H. Allen: London 1879.
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 5, Cambridge University Press 1961.
Speight, Harry, Kirkby Overblow and District, Elliott Stock: London 1904.
