Tag: Marlborough

Martinsell Hill, Oare, Pewsey, Wiltshire

megalithix

Hillfort:  OS Grid Reference – SU 1764 6396

Also Known as:

  1. Martin’s Hill

Archaeology & History

Martinsell Hill on 1888 map
Martinsell Hill on 1888 map

The second highest of Wiltshire’s prehistoric camps or hillforts, Martinsell Hill was described as early as the 13th century as ‘Mattelsore’ and was known in local dialect and literary forms as variants around the word mattels, until the 16th century, when the title became altered in literature and for the first time became known as ‘Martinshall’ (and variants thereof), which has stuck ever since.  As the etymologists Gover, Mawer & Stenton (1939) proclaimed,

“the first element (mattels, PB) must be associated with the old english name for the camp which stands on top of it: the Mætelmesburg of the Pewsey charter” —

A.C. Smith’s old map

Which the authors think derived from “Mætelmesora, i.e., ‘Mæþelhelm’s bank'”, being the name of a tribal leader or elder who gave his name to the hill upon which the fort was built.  Margaret Gelling echoes the sentiment in her Place-Names in the Landscape, but we must keep in mind that such derivation is still a quite speculative etymology and one which doesn’t seem to be able to be proven (as yet!).

The hillfort and its remains were described in some detail in the second volume of Colt Hoare’s classic Ancient Wiltshire (1819: 107), where he wrote:

“Martin’s Hill or Martinshal Hill is in North Wilts what Long Knoll near Maiden Bradley is in South Wilts, ‘collis longe spectabilis’.  This elevated point commands a most advantageous prospect of the rich vale that separates the northern and southern districts of our county, , and is rendered interesting to the antiquary by an extensive earthenwork that crowns the summit of the hill.  Its form resembles an oblong square on all sides, except towards the east, where it bends inward in order to humour the natural shape of the hill.  Its area, which is in tillage, comprehends thirty-one acres; and as several entrances have been made through the ramparts for the convenience of agriculture, it is difficult to ascertain on which side were the original approaches to the camp.  This hill, in its formation, presents a peculiarity rather contrary to the usual system of nature, by rising in height towards the east, where a bold and tremendous precipice of smooth turf shelves down from the summit to the base of the hill.  This eminence is more remarkable for the rich and extensive prospect which it affords than for the plan of its entrenchments, which consists of a single vallum and fosse.  Not having discovered by digging any certain marks of ancient populations within its area, I am inclined to think that it may be considered as an asylum to which the Britons, who were very numerous in its environs, sent their families and herds in times of danger: the single vallum and ditch prove its British origin, and the great extent of its area seems to warrant this conjecture.”

Hippisley Cox’s ground-plan

This aint a bad assumption for a fella who wrote this 200 years ago without the aid of excavation or modern archaeocentric analysis.  But we can see that Hoare was utilizing that dying virtue of common sense here, and find that much of what he said remains the echoed narrative of modern archaeologists who, I believe, still aint done a detailed excavation on the site themselves. (weird for down South!)  Later in the 19th century, when the reverend A.C. Smith (1885) visited and wrote about the hillfort, he added little to Hoare’s earlier words.  And the descriptive narrative of the site remained roughly the same (Massingham’s intriguing ascriptions aside!) even after a small excavation was undertaken in 1907, which found very little.  Hippisley Cox (1927) passed this way in his fine travelogue of ancient roads and trackways in Wessex, describing the enclosed top of this hill as

“the site of a complete neolithic settlement, including dew-ponds, a cattle compound, a flint quarry, lynchetts, dicthes of defence and deep cattle tracks formed by much going and coming of beasts from the valley.”

He may have been right!  In more recent times Geoffrey Williams (1993) describes the Martinsell hillfort, which again only gives slightly more info than Colt Hoare’s 1819 narrative.  The site covers 32 acres in size, is roughly rectangular in form, measuring roughly 330 yards (302m) across east to west, and 480 yards (439m) north to south.   There appears to be at least one entrance on its northeastern edge.

Folklore

What seems to be a survival of prechristian sun lore is found in one or two of the events that used to happen upon and around Martinsell.  A number of local history books give varying descriptions of the events here, but Devereux and Thomson (1979) condense the information nicely, telling us that

“The camp seems to have been a focus for curious Palm Sunday ‘games’ in past centuries, one of which involved a line of boys standing at intervals  from the base to the summit of the hill.  Using hockey sticks, they then proceeded to knock a ball in succession up the hill to the top.  Another activity was the throwing of oranges down the hill slopes with boys going headlong after them.  Evene more strangely, local youths used to slither down the escarpment on horses skulls.”

Mythographer and writer Michael Dames (1977) thought that such festive activities on and around the hill related to remnants of ancient goddess worship here.

Ley line running from Martinsell (image courtesy Paul Devereux)

In Paul Devereux & Ian Thomson’s (1979) ley hunter’s guide, the Martinsell Hill site stands at the beginning of a ley, which then runs northwest for more than seven miles, eventually ending at the well known causewayed enclosure of Windmill Hill — but not before passing by the Avebury stone circle and several prehistoric tombs on route.  This ley is a simple alignment between sites (as the ‘discover’ of leys, Alfred Watkins described them) and has nothing to do with the modern contrivance of energy lines.

…to be continued…

References:

  1. Bradley, A.G., Round about Wiltshire, Methuen: London 1948.
  2. Dames, Michael, The Avebury Cycle, Thames & Hudson: London 1977.
  3. Devereux, Paul & Thomson, Ian, The Ley Hunter’s Companion, Thames & Hudson: London 1979.
  4. Gomme, Alice B., “Folklore Scraps from Several Localities,” in Folklore Journal, 20:1, 1909.
  5. Gover, J.E.B., Mawer, A. & Stenton, F.M., The Place-Names of Wiltshire, Cambridge University Press 1939.
  6. Harding, D.W., The Iron Age in Lowland Britain, RKP: London 1974.
  7. Hoare, Richard Colt, The Ancient History of North Wiltshire, Lackington, Hughes, Mavor & Jones: London 1819.
  8. Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathan Cape: London 1926.
  9. Partidge, T.B., “Wiltshire Folklore,” in Folklore Journal, 26:2, 1915.
  10. Smith, A.C., A Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, Wiltshire Archaeological & Natural History Society 1885.
  11. Williams, Geoffrey, The Iron Age Hillforts of England, Horace Books 1993.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Broad Stones, Clatford, Wiltshire

megalithix

Stone Circle (destroyed):  OS Grid Reference – SU 161 684

Also Known as:

  1. Clatford Stone Circle

Archaeology & History

John Aubrey’s early drawing (soz about the crap quality)

Also known as the Clatford Circle, it was described by both of the old pioneers, John Aubrey and William Stukeley: Aubrey saying the monument could be found “in a lane leading from Kennet to Marlborough… (consisting) of eight huge large stones, roughly hewn… in a circle, which never could be by chance.”  Will Stukeley reckoned that four other stones close by, “may possibly have been the beginning of an avenue.”  We might never know for sure.

The local Avebury authority, Pete Glastonbury, showed us a spot which he thinks may have been the where the circle stood, and where a couple of decent-looking stones lay by the side of the track that could have once been a part of this circle.  It looked as good a contender as anything else.  Has all trace of this monument truly been destroyed?

References:

  1. Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Devil’s Den, Clatford, Wiltshire

megalithix

Cromlech:  OS Grid Reference – SU 15209 69651

Also Known as:

  1. Devils Den
  2. Dillion Dene

Getting Here

Devil’s Den, Wiltshire

When Pete Glastonbury brought us here, we walked east out of the Avebury stone circle and up the Wessex Ridgeway track.  When you hit the “crossroads” at the top of the rise a mile along, go across the stile into the grasslands for a few hundred yards till you hit the obviously-named “Gallops” racecourse-looking stretch.  Walk down for a few hundred yards till you hit a footpath on your left that takes you across and down grasslands that takes you slowly into the valley bottom.  You’re damn close!

Otherwise (and I aint done this route!), walk up the footpath straight north from Clatford village, up the small valley for about 1km.  You’ll eventually see this great stone heap in the field on your left!

Archaeology & History

I was brought here one fine day last year in the company of PeteG (our guide for the day), Geoff, June and Mikki Potts.  Twas a fine foray exploring the various prehistoric sites on the lands east of Avebury — but it was my very first venture to this site, the Devil’s Den — and a grand one it was indeed!  Standing close to the small valley bottom a couple of miles east of the great stone circle, this megalithic monument is thought to be neolithic in origin.

When H.J. Massingham (1926) came here, the day and spirit of the place must have felt fine, as he described,

“its three uprights and capstone stand forlornly in the midst of an alien sea of ploughland swinging its umber ripples to the foot of a stone isle, drifted nearly four thousand years from the happy potencies of its past.”

And, on many good times here no doubt, for many people, such feelings still hold…

A.C. Smith’s Devil’s Den
Colt Hoare’s Devil’s Den

It was described by the President for the Council of British Archaeology, Paul Thomas (1976), “as a setting of four sarsen uprights with a capstone”, whereby four uprights have not been noticed here since very early times.  Not sure how old he was though!  Today the very large capstone weighing upwards of 20 tons rests gently upon just two very bulky upright monoliths.  A third is laid amidst the great tomb , overgrown and sleepy, touching one of the two uprights….

The cromlech itself seems to have once been part of a lengthy mound that was covered in earth, “about 230ft long and 120ft broad, now virtually removed by ploughing.”  On top of the great capstone are at least two cup-markings: one of them with a possible oval-shaped line carved out onto the edge of the rock (similar to the C-shaped carving on the nearby Fyfield Down cup-marked stone), but this needs looking at in various lights so we can ascertain whether it has a geological or artificial origin.

Stukeley’s Devil’s Den

Suggested by Edwin Kempson (1953) and also by Aubrey Burl (2002) and other dialect and place-name students to have originally been called Dillion Dene — “the boundary marker in the valley” — this collapsed chambered tomb has had many literary visitors, from William Stukeley onwards.  When the reverend Smith wrote his great tome in 1885, he gave an assessment of those who came before him, saying:

“This is a noble specimen of the Kistvaen: it stands erect in its original position, only denuded of the mound of earth which, I venture to say (on the authority of the Rev. W.C. Lukis and others best acquainted with these remains) at one time invariably covered them: and this massive erection of ponderous stones is known as the ‘Devil’s Den’, and offers an exceedingly fine specimen of the kistvaen to those who have not made the acquaintance of these ancient sepulchres in other counties.  It is not only perfect in condition, but of very grand dimensions; moreover, it is well known to everybody who takes the slightest interest in Wiltshire antiquities… Stukeley says very little of this kistvaen, though he gives several plates of it (in Abury Described), his only remark being: “An eminent work of this sort in Clatford Bottom, between Abury and Marlborough.”  Sir R. Hoare (in Ancient Wiltshire, North) is more enthusiastic, he says: “From Marlborough I proceed along the turnpike road  as far as the Swan public house in the parish of Clatford, and then diverge into the fields on the right, where, in a retired valley amongst the hills, is a most beautiful and well-preserved kistvaen, vulgarly call’d the ‘Devil’s Den.’  It has been erroneously described as a cromlech.  From the elevated ground on which this stone monument is placed, it is evident that it was intended as a aprt annexed to the sepulchral mound, and erected probably at the east end of it, according to the usual custom of primitive times.””

In more recent years, Terence Meaden (1999) has suggested that the Devil’s Den may actually have been a simple cromlech and never had any covering mound of earth.  In his Secrets of the Avebury Stones he described how,

“The vertical megaliths must have been set up firmly first and then, quite possibly, a mound was raised outside and between them.  A very long ramp could have been built next, along which the capstone was dragged until it lay on top of the vertical monoliths, after which both mound and ramp would be removed as far as possible.  Such an operation, if correct, would explain why the stones of Devil’s Den now stand on an obviously artificial eminence; and why the much-spread remains of a long mound oriented NW-SE, about 70 metres (230 feet) long and 40 metres (130 feet) broad, were seen and described by Passmore in 1922.  One should not necessarily assume that the stones are the remains of a chambered long barrow, although they might be.”

And you’ve gotta say that unless we have hardcore evidence to the contrary, his summary is quite possible.  However, it seems here that Meaden has simply utilised this logic to enable him to posit another reason — a “good one” he calls it — for this suggestion, i.e.,

“its capstone seems to have profiles of heads carved upon two, perhaps three of its sides; suggesting that, if the art was meant to be seen, the capstone was never covered with earth.”

Devils Den on 1889 map
Devils Den on 1889 map

Unfortunately however, these possible “carved heads” on the sides of the capstone more typify Rorscharch responses to natural geological shapes scattering rocks all over the planet.  Up North, if we were to attempt this sorta suggestion, we’d have millions of such carved heads popping up all over the place.  It’s a nice idea, but somewhat unlikely.

Folklore

The old dowser Guy Underwood (1977) was renowned for locating water lines* in and around many of England’s prehistoric sites, and the same pattern was recorded here.  He told that the Devil’s Den marked the site of a blind spring “of exceptional importance.”  He continued:

“The Devil’s Den dolmen marks the source of a multiple water line which forms a maze, marked by stones, about 200 yards to the northwest.  It terminates at a well, where two tracks cross about a mile further west.  This site is likely to have had special sanctity and would be interesting to excavate.”

Whilst the importance of water was understandable in ancient days, some other folklore attributes derive from quite different ingredients.  The common theme of “immovability” is found here, as described by reverend Smith (1885) again who, amidst other peculiarities, told the following:

“There are various traditions connected with it. I was told some years since, by an old man hoeing turnips near, that if anybody mounted to the top of it, he might shake it in one particular part. I do not know whether this is the case or not, though it is not unusual where the capstone is upheld by only three supporters. But another labourer whom I once interrogated informed me that nobody could ever pull off the capstone; that many had tried to do so without success; and that on one occasion twelve white oxen were provided with new harness, and set to pull it off, but the harness all fell to pieces immediately! As my informant evidently thought very seriously of this, and considered it the work of enchantment, I found it was not a matter for trifling to his honest but superstitious mind; and he remained perfectly unconvinced by all the arguments with which I tried to shake his credulity.”

References:

  1. Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
  2. Goddard, E., “The Devil’s Den, Manton, Wiltshire,” in The Antiquaries Journal, volume 2, no.1, January 1922.
  3. Gomme, Alice B., ‘Folklore Scraps from Several Localities’, in Folklore, 20:1, 1909.
  4. Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976.
  5. Kempson, E.G.H., “The Devil’s Den,” in Wiltshire Archaeology & Natural History Magazine, 55, 1953.
  6. Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathan Cape: London 1926.
  7. Meaden, Terence, The Secrets of the Avebury Stones, Souvenir Press: London 1999.
  8. Smith, A.C., A Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, Wiltshire Archaeological & Natural History Society 1885.
  9. Thomas, Nicholas, Guide to Prehistoric England, Batsford: London 1976.
  10. Underwood, Guy, The Pattern of the Past, Abacus: London 1977.
  11. Wright, Joseph, English Dialect Dictionary – volume 2, Henry Frowde: London 1898.

* Those people who allege they can dowse will always find water in their first few months, if not years, of sensitivity.  There is a pattern nowadays of people using dowsing tools and, when the rods cross (or whichever accessory they get their reactions from), they allege they are connecting with unknown energies, ley lines and other such items; but this is simply incorrect. The primary dowsing response is water (life-blood) and it takes much practice over long periods of time to even begin isolating leys or other occult phenomena.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Merlin’s Mount, Marlborough, Wiltshire

megalithix

Tumulus:  OS Grid Reference – SU 1836 6867

Also Known as:

  1. Marlborough Mount
  2. Merlin’s Barrow
  3. Merlin’s Mound

Getting Here

Pretty simple.  Get to the chapel in front of Marlborough College, and look at the stepped hill in the grounds thereof (with a big hole cut into the top where a water tower once stood).  That’s it!  Please be aware that this monument is on college ground, so it might be worthwhile telephoning them if you wanna wander upon the hill.

Archaeology & History

Merlin’s Mount (from Colt-Hoare’s Ancient Wiltshire)

This curious rounded, pyramidal hill is thought by some to have given the town of Marlborough its very name.  Described in Domesday as ‘Merleberge’, which is reckoned to derive from “the hill or barrow of Maerla”: Maerla in this case being a lost olde English name, said in local folklore and tradition to have been our old heathen magickian, Merlin, of Arthurian fame and legend.  Long ago his bones were laid to rest here and this great ‘tomb’ built over him.  We might never know…

The exact nature and date of this mound has yet to be satisfactorily explained.  Commonly ascribed as Norman in origin (based mainly on the notion that it wasn’t mentioned before Domesday and there being motte and bailey ruins here), the finding of Roman remains near its base then led some to think they had built the hill; but when “antler picks used by its prehistoric builders were unearthed in the late nineteenth century and again in 1912 when a trench was cut for the flue of a new engine-house chimney” (Burl 2002), the dates for its origin went a lot further back!

One of the earlier commentators on this archaeological curiosity was Sir Richard Colt-Hoare (1812) in the days when much more of this and other sites were visible in the landscape, saying:

“The Mount within the gardens of the Castle Inn is a remarkable earthwork: it is a huge pile of earth, and inferior in proportions only to Silbury Hill.  Each is situated on the River Kennet; the one near its source, the other near its margin; and I have no doubt but that in ancient times each had some corresponding connection with each other.”

A sentiment echoed by our modern megalithic scholar, Aubrey Burl. (2002)  But as Burl points out, the distance between Silbury and Merlin’s Mount would have been measured not in distance by those who constructed these giant mounds, but in time.  And the focus of our ancestors here in relation to these two great artificial mounds, would not be esteemed as much by engineering or measurement — for both mounds are gigantic — but a wholly mythic one.  Colt-Hoare continued:

“This mound has been so mutilated, as well as lowered in its height, that it is impossible to calculate an exact measurement of either its circumference or height; but as nearly as we could guess with our chains, we found the base to be about 1000 feet in circumference, and the diameter of the summit 100 feet.”

A piece of Merlin’s Mount!

When the reverend A.C. Smith (1885) described Merlin’s Mount — or ‘Marlborough Hill’ as he preferred it named — more than seventy years later as, “an artificial tumulus which deserves careful examination”, it seems little further investigation had been done.  And despite Smith’s wish for such care and attention, even today no detailed archaeological investigation has been undertaken.  Astonishing!  This fascinating-looking pyramidal “barrow” was thought by several early writers to have been constructed along similar architectural designs as that of Silbury Hill.  In Massingham’s (1926) fascinating Egyptian-origin hypothesis, he tells us the following:

“Merlin’s Mount encompasses only an acre-and-a-half of ground in comparison with Silbury’s five-and-a-half, and reaches a trifle more than half its height (60 feet).  In every other respect the twain are alike.  Both were raised at the foot of a gentle slope, both were made of chalk resting on a thin layer of clay, both were trenched around the bases, and in both were buried the antlered picks of the builders.  Both were built near the banks of the (River) Kennet within five miles of one and other.”

It certainly is impressive!  When Michala Potts and I came here last year in the fine company of Pete Glastonbury and others, we were somewhat in awe of the fact that so little has been said of this site in modern archaeological terms.  Indeed, the fact that the jury is still out as to the age of its construction we found quite surprising at the time.  Though another quick reading of Mr Burl’s Avebury work, combining the Roman finds and the antler picks here, makes him think that “a prehistoric origin for the mound likely.”

The name of Marlborough itself has been given a number of interpretations, most notably the attempt to derive it from the great shaman-poet Merlin.  But on a down-to-earth peasant level we find, in John Aubrey’s Monumenta Britannica there’s a note in the margin concerning the ‘marl’ element in the place-name that was told to him by a local man called Edward Leigh, which said,

“Marga, marle, we use instead of dung to manure our ground. It (Marlborough) lieth near a chalky hill, which our ancestors knew.  They borrowed this name ‘chaulk’ of the Latin, calx, named marle.”

More recently Margaret Gelling (1984) thought that the name of this hill or mound “is variously interpreted as a plant-name or a personal name.”  Which for some brings us back to Merlin!  We might never know…

References:

  1. Best, J., “The Marlborough Mound,” in A. Whittle’s Sacred Mound, Holy Rings (Oxford 1997).
  2. Burl, Aubrey, Prehistoric Avebury, Yale University Press 2002.
  3. Field, David, Brown, Graham & Crockett, Andrew, “The Marlborough Mound Revisited,” in Wiltshire Archaeologial & Natural History Magazine, 94, 2001.
  4. Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape, Phoenix: London 1984.
  5. Hoare, Richard Colt, The Ancient History of South Wiltshire and the Ancient History of North Wiltshire, London 1812.
  6. Massingham, H.J., Downland Man, Jonathon Cape: London 1926.
  7. Smith, A.C., Guide to the British and Roman Antiquities of the North Wiltshire Downs, WANHS 1885.

Links:

  1. Merlin’s Mount on Press TV

Acknowledgements:

With many thanks to Pete Glastonbury and Brian Edwards for their hints and corrections.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Devil’s Den Cups, Clatford, Wiltshire

megalithix

Cup-Marked Stone:  OS Grid Reference – SU 15211 69652

Getting Here

Follow the directions to reach the Devil’s Den, a half-mile north of Clatford up the footpath towards the Fyfield Down cup-marked rock.  You can’t miss it!  The cup-markings are on the top of the capstone.

Archaeology & History

First described and illustrated by local historian and photographer, Pete Glastonbury, as far as I’m aware these cup-markings have not previously been included in any of Wiltshire’s archaeological surveys (that can’t be, surely?).  The only reference I’ve found — not untypically — is from one of the early editions of the english Folklore Journal.

...and again!
…and again!
Devil’s Den cup-markings

At least two well-defined cups stand out on the top of the capstone.  Each of them have ‘cracks’ running out of them, with the easternmost one of them (closer to the edge) turning into a channel which runs upwards on the stone, before then leading down off the edge of the rock.  Each cup-mark is very clear, about two inches across and about a half-inch deep.

Archaeologists can check these cups out and work out for themselves whether they’re natural or not.  They’re far more qualified than I on such matters and may be able ascertain other faint remarks on the stone.  The proximity of the nearby Fyfield Down cup-marked rock, several hundred yards to the north, shows that such petroglyphs can be found in this region.  Although we cannot expect many examples of rock art in this area (the rock’s damn tough and takes some burrowing into), it is likely that more carvings await discovery.

Folklore

The capstone on which these cup-markings are seen was told to be immovable and had lore said of it akin to that found at the great Whispering Knights, near the Rollright Stones.  But the main piece of lore describes the cups quite specifically.  In an article by Alice Gomme (1909), she told that:

“if anyone pours water into any of the natural cup-shaped cavities on the top stone at midnight, it will always be found in the morning to be gone, drunk by a thirst-tormented fiend.”

The tale is later repeated in Kathleen Wiltshire’s (1975) survey, where she too mentions the cup-marking (though only one), saying that,

“if a person pours water into the natural cup-shaped cavity on the top stone at midnight it will always be found to be gone in the morning — drunk by the devil.”

This folklore motif — repeated in Grinsell’s (1976) text — is found at rock-art sites in a number of the northern counties, where milk has been poured into the cup-markings (some of which were known as ‘cat stones’) and left overnight for the spirits to drink.   In the case we have recorded at Devil’s Den, the spirit of the place seems to have been demonized, as is common.

Miss Gomme (1909) also reported the curious ingredient that the spirit of a white rabbit with glowing eyes would appear on the capstone at midnight and help the devil demolish the site with the aid of eight oxen!  On this latter matter, I am duly informed by one-in-the-know that, to “those of us that know the locals and their humour, we just know this tale was made up for a visiting townie!”

References:

  1. Gomme, Alice B., ‘Folklore Scraps from Several Localities’, in Folklore Journal, 20:1, 1909.
  2. Grinsell, Leslie V., Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain, David & Charles: London 1976.
  3. Wiltshire, Kathleen, Wiltshire Folklore, Compton Russell: Salisbury 1975.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian