This site can be reached with relative ease from Colne’s train station by crossing the road and going up Bridge Street, turning immediately left along Shaw Street for several hundred yards until you reach Waterside Road on your left-hand side. From here, as Mr Tom Sharples told, “St. Helen’s Well is presently within the area of overgrown and unmanaged scrub woodland adjacent to Waterside Road.” Look around!
Archaeology & History
First described on the Megalithic Portal by the pseudonymous Brionnfhionn, this recently rediscovered holy well can be found on the southern side of Colne, at Waterside. A few months after the MegPortal announcement, a more detailed overview of the site was published on GoogleDocs, from where Mr Tom Sharples has kindly allowed us to repeat the information that both he and Susan Bryant-Lauder compiled there.
The site was relocated after reference had been found in Geoff Crambie’s (1978) A Colne Festival, where he wrote:
“1935 saw the end of St. Helen’s Mill in Waterside. Built by Nicholas England in 1835, it was named after the St. Helen’s Well nearby, which was reputed to have been named by the Romans.”
The local writer Dorothy Harrison (1988) also mentioned the site, though only in passing, when she told,
“Along with St. Helen’s Well, Buck Spout provided the main source of drinking water in Waterside.”
There has to be some more information about this little-known site hidden in some old Lancastrian history or folklore work, somewhere – surely!?
References:
Crambie, Geoff, A Colne Festival, Turner & Earnshaw: 1978.
Harrison, Dorothy (ed.), The History of Colne, Pendle Heritage Centre 1988.
Go up the nicely-named Wildcountry Lane at the staggered crossroads on the edge of Barrow Gurney for about a half-mile, watching out for the dip in the road where it crosses the stream. Walk up the stream here for a coupla hundred yards, keeping your eyes peeled for the small spring on your left just past where a footpath crosses the stream.
Archaeology & History
Little of historical nature is known of this site, found in the dip near the stream, though it was much frequented in bygone centuries as a curative place for sore eyes.
Folklore
Although named after the little people, Phil Quinn (1999) wrote that,
“even the oldest villager cannot remember how the fairies became connected with this well. All that is told is that the people would go to the well to bathe their eyes, for the water was believed to be good in the treatment of all eye complaints. A local woman remembers that her father, who worked the land in this neighbourhood, would always drink from the well using a cup which was never taken away or used for any other purpose.”
It is likely that the fairy association here derived from the proximity of a nearby prehistoric tomb, cairn or similar archaeological remain. The aptly-named Barrow Wood immediately east and other ‘barrow’ place-names nearby would add weight to this notion. (faerie-lore has widespread associations with prehistoric tombs and similar relics)
References:
Quinn, Phil, The Holy Wells of Bath and Bristol Region, Logaston: Almeley 1999.
Dead easy! From the townships of Grasscroft, Uppermill, or Greenfield, take the legendary moorland road up to Saddleworth tops (A635), keeping your eye on the modern obelisk on the hilltop to your left and you’ll see a large rock outcrop almost next to it. That’s where you’re heading. Once you reach near the moorland level, walk in whatever way you see fit towards the obelisk and large stones. Enjoy…! I s’ppose though, it’d be better for you if you started from the valley bottom at Uppermill and walked up the hill.
Folklore
Seemingly a ritual place of the sun, this fine site was known by the local folk-name of the Druid Stones, according to Jessica Lofthouse. (1976) But more importantly in legend, this great rocky outcrop was the abode of an old giant called Alphin, who had a rival called Alder who also wandered the moors here. Both these giants vied for the hand of a lady called Rimmon, who preferred Alphin to Alder. In good old fashioned ways they contested for her hand, throwing giant rocks across the moors at each other, but “Alphin was hit and killed, with Rimmon looking on.” His grave lies on these moors somewhere, seemingly unfound. …And intriguingly it seems that we’ve actually located a prehistoric tomb which may account for the legend of Alphin’s death! (Watch this space!)
A slight variation on the tale describes the Lady Rimmon to be of fairy stock, named ‘Raura Peena’ (a phonetic spelling of a local dialect name), who in one account from the Notes & Queries journal, 1850, tried luring a local man into her magickal recess of the Fairy Holes, on the slopes beneath the Pots and Pans Stone.
Local tradition also tells that the naturally-worn ‘bowls’ atop of the rocks held magical properties — water being collected from them was said to be good to cure eye problems. This is a curative theme we find at some bullauns, cup-marked stones and old cross-bases and would strongly indicates that pre-christian practices did once take place here.
References:
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Robert Hale: London 1976.
Very close to the edge of the M9, this old water source is thankfully still visible, though not in its original state. At the bottom of the ridge, loosely enclosed in the grounds of St. Thomas Well House, we find that the original well has been submerged into the pond which covers it.
Folklore
I’ve not yet found the mythic origins behind the dedication to this site, though St. Thomas’ Day is the winter solstice on December 21, and his mythic status was that of didymus, or twin. In Yorkshire, folk customs surrounding this figure have been found to be inextricably intertwined with death rites, Robin Hood and shamanism! But this Stirlingshire site is as yet silent. The presence of numerous prehistoric burials very close by may have something to do with its dedication, as such sites would heighten the likelihood of there being ‘heathen’ practices close by, to which the said ‘St Thomas’—or one of his emissaries—could subdue with their christian figure. But that’s pure speculation on my part…
References:
Attwater, Donald, The Penguin Dictionary of Saints, Penguin: Harmondsworth 1965.
Morris, Ruth & Frank, Scottish Healing Wells, Alethea: Sandy 1982.
Fleming, J.S., Old Nooks of Stirling, Delineated and Described, Munro & Jamieson: Stirling 1898.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Stirlingshire – volume 2, HMSO: Edinburgh 1963.
Having not been here, I can’t say for sure exactly where this forgotten site happens to live! It may be the one shown on modern OS-maps, behind the old post office, on the west-side of the village, but I aint sure. If any local people out there who can help us, we would be hugely grateful!
Archaeology & History
Not to be confused with the other St. Michael’s Well a few miles away in the village of Well, this is a little-known holy well that was described by the historian H.B. McCall (1910), who wrote:
“As Burneston had Saint Lambert’s Fountain, mentioned so early as the 12th Century, so Kirklington possesses its holy well, beside the old Mill House on the north side of the village. Althoguh its name has now passed from the popular remembrance, it is provided in a lease of lands to Roger Croft, in 1628, that his cattle shall have right of access to go into the water near unto a spring called ‘Michaell-well’. both in winter and summer; and we are left in no doubt as to where the spring was situated, for Mrs Alice Thornton has recorded that her father brought water to the Hall in lead pipes from a cistern of the same metal, “near St. Michael’s Well near the mill-race.””
Does anyone know anything more of this all-but-forgotten site?
A short distance to the north in the same village, another sacred water source known as the Lady Well can also be found.
References:
McCall, H.B., Richmondshire Churches, Elliott Stock: London 1910.
From Bingley, take the B6429 road up to Harden. After going up the wooded winding road for a few hundred yards, stop where it levels out. Cross onto the right-hand side of the road and walk up the slope a little, veering to your right. You’ll notice a small disused building just off the roadside, in overgrowth, with a pool of water. You need to be about 100 yards up the slope above it!
Archaeology & History
Elm Crag Well, Bell Bank Wood, Bingley
This is a beautiful old place. If you walk straight up to it from the roadside, past the derelict building, you have to struggle through the brambles and prickly slope like we did – but it’s worth it if you like your wells! However, if you try getting here in the summertime, expect to be attacked on all sides by the indigenous flora! The waters here emerge from a low dark cave, in which, a century of three ago, someone placed a large stone trough. When I first came here about 25 years ago, some halfwits had built an ugly red-brick wall into the cave which, thankfully, someone has had the sense to destroy and rip-out.
Shown on the 1852 Ordnance Survey map and highlighted as a ‘spring,’ Harry Speight (1898) gives a brief mention to this site, though refers us to an even earlier literary source when it was first mentioned. In John Richardson’s 18th century survey of the Craven area, he makes reference to an exceedingly rare fern, Trichomanes radicans, which was later included in Bolton’s classic monograph on British ferns of 1785. In it, Bolton wrote that the very first specimen of this plant was “first discovered by Dr. Richardson in a little dark cavern, under a dripping rock, below the spring of Elm Crag Well, in Bell Bank.”
Elm Crag Well
The waters from here come from two sides inside the small cave and no longer run into the lichen-encrusted trough, seemingly just dropping down to Earth and re-emerging halfway down the hillside. But the waters here taste absolutely gorgeous and are very refreshing indeed! And the old elms which gave this old well its name can still be seen, only just hanging on to the rocks above and to the side, with not much time left for the dear things.
References:
Bolton, James, Filices Britannicae: An History of the British Proper Ferns, Thomas Wright 1785.
Speight, Harry, Chronicles and Stories of Old Bingley, Elliott Stock: London 1898.
To get here, go down the A82 about four-and-a-half miles south of Tarbet (along the Loch Lomond road). Near a burn coming down the hill is an old house, long in ruin, and near the side of this is an old path – more for deer than city-folk. Go up through the wooded hillside for about a half-mile (amble the trek and make it a nice hour’s walk to get into the place). I’d take the stream itself, as you get more into the nature of the place once you get up the slope: there’s more to see, feel and a healthy water supply en route.
Folklore
This is more of a ‘holy loch’ than a holy well — for obvious reasons. Although it’s not much bigger than a large pond, it is little-known, but has long had the tradition of being an abode of the sith, or faerie-folk. There is, of course, a tendency to find prehistoric remains where the sith have their repute, but there seems little on official records nearby.
Tradition tells that the loch was actually formed in ancient times by locals damming the burn for water supply. Another tells the same in order that a mill could be fed with constant water – though no mill can be found. If this latter tradition is true however, the fairy creature here could have been a brownie – though they are generally more a lowland elemental. One of the reasons the place has been named after the little people is that when certain light falls on it, at the right time of day and year, green triangular shapes emerge from the water formed by deposits hidden beneath the surface (hence the original Gaelic name, Lochan Uaine, or the Green Loch).
Local historian Norman Douglas echoed the folktale described many years earlier by the great John Gregorson Campbell (1900), telling that,
“another story is that the local people would deposit their sheeps’ fleeces in the Fairy Loch overnight, wish for them to be dyed a certain colour, and overnight the fairies would carry out their wish.”
References:
Campbell, John G., Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, James MacLehose: Glasgow 1900.
Go through Haworth and head for the well-known Penistone Hill country park. On the far western side of the hill up near the top of Moorside Lane, there’s a car-park. Right across the road from this there are two footpaths: one heads you into the moor, whilst the other (going the same direction) follows the edge of walling onto the moors. Take this path. Walk on and downhill, past the end of the reservoir, then the path continues uphill. You’ll hit a nice cheery tree beside the path a few hundred yards up. Stop here, look into the boggy region with bits of walling on the moor in front of you. That’s where you’re heading!
Archaeology & History
The first, weaker of the Spa Wells
This was a really curious spot to me, as I found absolutely nothing about the damn place! But thanks to the assistance of local historian and writer Steven Wood (2009), that’s changed. Shown on the 1852 OS-map, at least two springs of clear water trickle slowly from the wet slope above you into the boggy reeds. Close by there are overgrown remains of old buildings, covered with the time of moorland vegetation, seemingly telling that the waters were collected for bathing rooms. But who the hell even started the notion that they’d be able to get Victorian rich-folk up here at the crack-of-dawn to drink or bathe in the waters is seemingly forgotten. And, as is evident from the lack of local history, the project was a failed one which seemed not to have lasted too long.
Folklore
The stronger Spa Well
It was quite obvious that of all the springs around here and despite the strong-flowing streams either side of these spa well, that the local animals drink here more than the other nearby springs of water, as there were literally hundreds of animal tracks all across the boggy ground of the spas.* The waters also seem to have the usual ‘spa’ qualities of stinking, but once we’d cleaned out the overgrown springs — which looked as if they hadn’t been touched for 100 years or more — the waters were clear and tasted good, and were curiously slightly warm!
Although my initial search for information on this site drew a blank, Steve Wood pointed us in the right direction for info on the place. As with many other holy wells and spas in Yorkshire, it turned out that this was another spot much revered around Beltane, indicating strongly there would have been earlier pre-christian rites practiced at this site. Steve pointed me to Martha Heaton’s (2006) local history work, which told:
“For many years the first Sunday in May was a special day. It was known as Spa Sunday, for on this day people gathered up in the hills overlooking what is now Leeshaw Reservoir, here was a well, known as Spa Well, and the stream which now feeds the reservoir is known as Spa Beck. People came from Haworth, Oxenhope, Stanbury, and other villages sitting round the well, they sang songs, some bringing their musical instruments to accompany the singing. Children brought bottles with hard spanish in the bottom filling the bottle with water from the well, shaking it until all the spanish or liquorice had been dissolved. This mixture was known as ‘Poppa Lol’ and would be kept for weeks after a little sugar had been added, then it was used sparingly as medicine. The custom seems to have died out when Bradford Corporation took over the water and made Leeshaw Compensation Reservoir in 1875, though up to about 1930 two men from Haworth would wend their way to the spot on the moor, the first Sunday in May. The men were John Mitchell and Riley Sunderland, better known, in those days as ‘Johnny o’Paul’s’ and ‘Rile Sun’.
It was a great day for many people, the Keighley News of May 1867 mentioned it, the report of local news reads thus: ‘A large assembly met on Spa Sunday on the moors about two miles from Haworth, and a party of musicians from Denholme performed sacred music’.
This locality was often visited during the summer months by the Bronte family.”
References:
Heaton, Martha, Recollections and History of Oxenhope, privately printed 2006.
Wood, Steven & Palmer, Ian, Oxenhope and Stanbury through Time, Amberley Publishing 2009.
Acknowledgements: – Huge thanks to Steven Wood for his help; and to Hazel Holmes for permission to quote from Martha Heaton’s work.
* A common creation myth behind many healing wells is that animals with breaks or illness drag themselves to drink from otherwise small or insignificant springs and wells, despite of the copious streams or rivers which may be nearer.
A mile east of Waverbridge, turn down the track called Watergates Lonning. Before you reach the bottom, on the left side of the straight track is a spring of water. This is the old holy well.
Archaeology & History
Although much used in bygone times, very little of it can be seen nowadays. When John Musther (2015) wrote about it recently, he told that although it was
“Once known for its copious amount of remarkably pure and sweet water, it is now only a trickle by a tree.”
Nearly three hundred yards away across the fields northeast of this small spring of water, was once seen “a pretty large rock of granite, called St. Cuthbert’s Stone“, whose mythic history will have been intimately tied to the holy well.
Folklore
In the second volume of William Hutchinson’s History of the County of Cumberland (1794), he tells that the St. Cuthbert’s Well,
“is a fine copious spring of remarkably pure and sweet water which…is called Helly-well, i.e. Haly or Holy Well. It formerly was the custom for the youth of all the neighbouring villages to assemble at this well early in the afternoon of the second Sunday in May, and there to join in a variety of rural sports. It was the village wake, and took place here, it is possible, when the keeping of wakes and fairs in the churchyard was discontinued. And it differed from the wakes of later times chiefly in this, that though it was a meeting entirely devoted to festivity and mirth, no strong drink of any kind was ever seen there, nor anything ever drunk but the beverage furnished by the Naiad of the place. A curate of the parish, about twenty years ago (c.1774), on the idea that it was a profanation of the Sabbath, saw fit to set his face against it; and having deservedly great influence in the parish, the meetings at Helly-well have ever since been discontinued.”
References:
Hutchinson, William, The History and Antiquities of the County of Cumberland, volume 2, F. Jollie: Carlisle 1794.
Musther, John, Springs of Living Waters: The Holy Wells of North Cumbria, J.Musther: Keswick 2015.
Not too difficult to find really. Get to the northern part of the road which encircles Arthur’s Seat and when you get to St. Margaret’s Loch (near St. Margaret’s Well), look up the slopes on your right where you see the remains of St. Anthony’s Chapel. You need to head up the footpath here until you reach a large-ish ovoid boulder, with a small circular trough into which the waters run (the drawing of the place here, with the rock in the lower-left, just in front of the fella walking towards it, is just right!). You’re here!
Archaeology & History
St Anthony’s Well, Arthurs Seat
Tradition tells that the remains of St. Anthony’s Chapel was built on the northern ridge by Arthur’s Seat, “mainly for guardianship of the holy well named after the saint” — which sounds rather like the christianization story of a heathen site. Francis Grose (1797) told that “this situation was undoubtedly chosen with an intention of attracting the notice of seamen coming up that Frith; who, in cases of danger, might be induced to make vows to its tutelar saint.” If this was the case, it sounds even more like a site that had prior heathen associations. Grose also told us that just a short distance from the chapel, were the remains of an old hermitage:
“It was partly of masonry worked upon the natural rock. At the east end there are still two niches remaining; in one of which formerly stood a skull, a book, an hour-glass, and a lamp, which, with a mat for a bed, made the general furniture of the hermitage.”
I like the sound of the place! Just up my street! Little other archaeological info has emerged from this tiny spot — but the healing waters of the well would obviously have been of importance to our indigenous inhabitants (anyone who wants to think otherwise is simply a bit dim!) as there is a wealth of archaeological sites and relics all round Arthur’s Seat.
Folklore
A number of writers have described this old well, which has sun-lore, healing properties, and Beltane rites surrounding its past. Local people of all social classes frequented this ancient spring, particularly on that most favoured of heathen days, Beltane. The site was of considerable mythic importance with a certain order about it. As Hone (1839) said:
“…the poorer classes in Edinburgh poured forth at daybreak from street and lane to assemble on Arthur’s Seat to see the sun rise on May-morning. Bagpipes and other musical intruments enlivened the scene, nor were refreshments forgotten. About six o’ clock a crowd of citizens of the wealthier class made their appearance, while the majority of the first-comers returned to the town. At nine o’ clock the hill was practically deserted.”
Another early account describing St. Anthony’s Well is from an article in the great PSAS journal of 1883. Here, J.R. Walker wrote:
St Anthonys Well
To an incident which showed that the faith and belief in the healing virtues of the wells is still strong, the writer was but a few months ago an eye-witness. While walking in the Queen’s Park about sunset, I casually passed St. Anthony’s Well, and had my attention attracted by the number of people about it, all simply quenching their thirst, some possibly with a dim idea that they would reap some benefit from the draught. Standing a little apart, however, and evidently patiently waiting a favourable moment to present itself for their purpose, was a group of four. Feeling somewhat curious as to their intention, I quietly kept myself in the back ground, and by and by was rewarded. The crowd departed, and the group came forward, consisting of two old women, a younger woman of about thirty, and a pale, sickly-looking girl — a child of three or four years old. Producing cups from their pockets, the old women dipped them in the pool, filled them, and drank the contents. A full cup was then presented to the younger woman, and another to the child. Then one of the old women produced a long linen bandage, dipped it in the water, wrung it, dipped it in again, and then wound it round the child’s head, covering the eyes, the youngest woman, evidently the mother of the child, carefully observing the operation, and weeping gently all the time. The other old woman not engaged in this work was carefully filling a clear flat glass bottle with the water, evidently for future use. Then, after the principal operators had looked at each other with an earnest and half solemn sort of look, the party wended its way carefully down the hill
Earlier still we find more lore of the place in Wilson’s Edinburgh [1848] where he told:
St Anthony’s Chapel 1785
“The ancient Hermitage and Chapel of St. Anthony, underneath the hangings of Arthur’s Seat, are velieved to have formed a dependency of the preceptory at Leith, and to have been placed there, to catch the seaman’s eyes as he entered the Firth, or departed on some long and perilous voyage; when his voews and offerings would be most freely made to the patron saint, and the hermit who ministered at his altar. No record, however, now remains to add to the tradition of its dedication to St. Anthony; but the silver stream, celebrated in the plaintive old song, ‘O waly, waly, up yon bank,’ still wells clearly forth at the foot of the rock, filling the little basin of St. Anthony’s Well, and rippling pleasantly through the long grass into the lower valley.”
Votive offerings made here eventually turned the waters into a simply wishing well for incomers, even in Victorian times (oh how the locals must have hated such trangression…). The great Scottish holy wells writer J.M. MacKinlay (1893) told in his day the tale of,
“a little girl from Aberdeenshire, when on a visit to Edinburgh, made trial of the sacred spring. She was cautioned not to tell anyone what her wish was, else the charm would have no effect. On her return home however, her eagerness to know whether the wish had…been fulfilled, quite overcame her ability to keep the secret. Her first words were, ‘Has the pony come?’ St. Anthony must have been in good humour with the child, for he provided the pony, thus evidently condoning the breach of silence in deference to her youth.”
In the middle of the 20th century, the great folklorist F.M. MacNeill (1959) wrote:
“Even in Edinburgh, little bands of the faithful may be seen making their way through the King’s Park to Arthur’s Seat, and, as in the eighteenth century:
On May-Day, in a fairy ring,
We’ve seen them round St. Anton’s spring,
Frae grass the caller dew-drops wring,
To weet their een,
And water clear as crystal spring,
To synd them clean.”
And when Ruth and Frank Morris (1982) got round to their excellent survey, they found that this old well was still being used “by youths and maidens, who come to wash their faces with the dew on May Day mornings, a wish at St. Anthony’s being a part of the ritual.” But this final remark may have the simple prosaic coincidence of them observing people like I, when younger, who frolicked with girlfriends around May morning, in the grasses near the old well — though at the time I knew nothing about the old sacred waters on the slopes just above us!
