Although ascribed as a holy or healing well, this site is actually a curious natural water-filled depression near the top of Dun I, on the northern side of the island. It is one of three magickal wells to be found hereby. F.M. McNeill (1954) described this Well of Eternal Youth as having a fame that had spread far and wide, saying,
“Here, through ages past, pilgrims of each generation have lingered at the enchanted hour of dawn, ‘to touch the healing water the moment the first sun-ray quickens it.'”
In doing so, devotees would recover the energies of youth once more and live a longer healthy life.
References:
Hannan, Thomas, Iona and some Satellites, W. & R. Chambers: London 1928.
McNeill, F. Marion, Iona, Blackie & Sons: Glasgow 1954.
Dead easy! If you come from Silsden, take the Holden Road up onto the moor edge, all the way up the wooded hill. As you reach the top, keep your eyes peeled for the stone in the slope to your left. Otherwise, coming from Riddlesden, take the moor road upwards (to Silsden Road) as if you’re gonna visit Peggy Mawson’s Well, the Baldwin Stone or some of the Rivock carvings. Keep on the road to where you see the microwave tower on Pinfold Hill to your right. It’s just below it!
Archaeology & History
Robin Hood’s Stone from above
Flints have been found on the slopes above here, but records of this stone only go back — as far as I’ve found — to 1850 (this seems to typify records around the Keighley district, which only seems to record anything post-1500 AD). In mid-Victorian times, plans were afoot to use the rock for building material, but local people objected and so the stone kept its position overlooking the valley. There are a number of very defined ‘cups’ on the sloping face of the stone, but several (though not all) of these have all the likeness of the holes dug into the rock by climbers — though why climbers would even think to cut foot-holes into this easy rock beggars belief!
Folklore
One of several sharp well-defined ‘cups’ on the rock
Not too surprisingly, folklore tells that this stone was one of the places where our old hero Robin Hood sheltered, when being chased by god-knows-who in one of his many exploits. We’ve no way of proving this of course, but the sparse woodland remains above here also bear the hero’s name. What seems to be a more modern piece of industrial folklore alleges that this stone was actually put here by workers in the Victorian times! The boulder allegedly lived near Barden, Bolton Abbey, but was blocking construction work, so was uprooted and moved all the way to where it now sits! In bygone times the rock was a local meeting place – perhaps around Beltane, in line with Robin Hood festivities.
References:
Gray, Johnnie, Through Airedale from Goole to Malham, Elliot Stock: London 1891.
Dead easy! Get to Ilkley train station and look across the road to your left, cross it and walk along. 100 yards on is Cowpasture Road. Walk up it! You’ll be at the rocks in 10-15 minutes.
Archaeology & History
Cow & Calf Rocks from above – thanks to Ian Hay’s superb ‘Yorkshire from the Air’
There’s nowt specifically archaeocentric directly relating to these great rocks — well, nowt that’s been found out about anyway! — though all around here over the last coupla centuries people have found numerous flints, and we have various examples of rock-art (cup-and-rings) carved on rocks close by. There have been attempts to verify what may be cup-marks on both the Cow and the Calf — with the old master, Harry Speight (1900) telling how there used to be remains of cups and lines on the rocks, but apart from some well-worn ‘cups’ on some of the edges, these seem hard to find. For worrits worth: if Speight said there were some carvings here, its more than likely true.
I think the main relationship ancient man would have had with this great rock outcrop would have been a ritual one: the rocks themselves had no need of human imprints: their size and nature would deem them of great spirit indeed, to anyone with an ounce of feeling. Not sure that’s the way most modern folk would see things – but that’s to be expected I s’ppose!
Folklore
These grand rocks once had the even greater Bull Rock as a close companion. It was on top of this, wrote Eric Lodge (1939:40), that,
“the only point in the immediate vicinity of Ilkley from which a view of York Minster was obtainable. ‘Tis some sixty years ago, however, that a local tradesman recognised its value in building stone, and despite strong protests, quarried it for the construction of the Crescent Hotel, situated at the corner of Brook Street and Leeds Road in Ilkley.”
The matter was described in the Leeds Mercury in 1899, thus:
“About the year 1850 an act of vandalism was perpetrated at Ilkley, which would have been impossible in these days, when the Ilkley Local Board watches with such a keen eye anything that may enhance the historical interest of this rapidly increasing watering-place.
“Below the two huge rocks known as ‘The Cow and Calf,’ which have attracted thousands of visitors and invalids on to the breezy heights whereon they stand, stood a rock larger than the Calf, which was known as the ‘Bull.’ It was much nearer the highway than the Calf…
“The ‘Bull’ rock had its name cut in large letters on the side that lay nearest the road, and it is much to be regretted that an unfortunate dispute between the owners of the free-hold and the lord of the manor, in which the former won the day, gave them the right to break up this noble rock and cart it away for building purposes. It is said that the Crescent Hotel was mainly built from this stone, so some idea may be formed of its vast size and proportions.”
Incredible – they’ve turned a gigantic sacred rock into a large hotel! (and I’ve never been in it) Let’s hope it’s haunted to buggery! Does anyone know any Fortean history about the place?
Another legend tells that one day the local giant, Rombald (who gave his name to these moors and lived up here, somewhere, with his even greater but unnamed wife), decided to meet a friend a few miles away to the east, at Almscliffe Crags. So in just one step he strode over the Wharfe valley right across to the legendary crags, but he slightly stumbled and in doing so, left he footprint embedded on the face of the Cow Rock, which can still be seen today.
In modern times, the Cow & Calf have been the centre for occasional UFO, or earthlight sightings. But this appears to go back a bit earlier than when such curious light-forms were thought of as visiting ETs; for good old Nicholas Size (1936) reported seeing burning lights and curious figures up here — but when he saw these lights they took the form of druids and pagan spirits. One wonders what they’ll morph into next!
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!
Dead easy. Follow the Grassington-Pateley Bridge road (B6265) east and about 2 miles past Hebden village, the craggy hill rises to the left-hand side of the road, as you can see in the photo below. Simple!
Archaeology & History
Nursery Knott hill
When fellow rock-art freaks Graeme Chappell, Richard Stroud and I were exploring the cup-and-ring stones in the area just south of here a few years back, this hill kept calling out with some repeated awe. “There’s summat about that place,” were the remarks we kept saying – but we could never put our finger on it. (still haven’t if truth be had!). Between here and the awesome Simon’s Seat to the south, a whole panoply of neolithic and Bronze Age remains scatter the land — and if ritual landscape has any validity, this hill is undoubtedly enmeshed in the mythic framework of such a paradigm. But without any folklore I didn’t feel right to include it here…
At the northern or rear-end of this great outcrop (SE 082 640) is a scattering of many boulders, one of which in particular at Knot Head was explored by a Mr Gill in 1955 and found to have a number of Mesolithic worked flints all round it. Seems as if folk have been up to things round here for even longer than we first thought. Microlith or flint-hunters would probably do well on the moors up here!
Folklore
It’s the old pen of our Yorkshire topographer Edmund Bogg which brings the lost folktale of this place back to life – and it’s typical of aboriginal creation myths from elsewhere in the world. In his Higher Wharfeland he had this to say of old ‘Nursa Knott’, as it was locally known:
“The old legend is that the devil, for some reason anxious to fill up Dibb Gill,* was carrying these ponderous crags in his apron when, stumbling over Nursa Knott, the strings broke and the crags fell. Legend also says, should the crags be removed they will be carried by some invisible power back to their original position.”
He then reminds us of links with old Wade, plus the settlement of old Grim, a short distance to the north.
Across the road down the track running south to Skyreholme, Jessica Lofthouse ( 1976) told the tale of a ghostly horseman, seen by her great-grandfather no less! Suggesting he may have been ‘market merry’ (i.e., pissed!), she told how he “struck out at a spectral white horse at the Skyreholme three-land ends near Appletreewick – and his stick passed through it!”
References:
Bogg, E., Higher Wharfeland: The Dale of Romance, James Miles: Leeds 1904.
Lofthouse, Jessica, North Country Folklore, Hale: London 1976.
Walker, D., ‘A Site at Stump Cross, near Grassington, Yorkshire, and the Age of the Pennine Microlithic Industry,’ in Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 1956.
* Dibb Gill is nearly a mile due west of here – and Dibble’s Bridge which crosses the beck was also known as the Devil’s Bridge, with a few typical creation myths of its own attached.
The ‘Spring’ atop of Old Wifes Gill, on 1853 OS-map
From Hawes, take the B6255 road west-ish to Ribblehead, but only for 1km, where there’s the Cam Road track on your left. Walk on here, and keep going till you’re looking down the valley past the very last house (those of you who wanna take the Pennine Way from Hawes will end up in the same place). It’s one of the springs down the steep slope on your right! (check the attached link to the OS-map to work out which one you’re heading for)
Archaeology & History
Apart from a singular mention in place-name records, I have found no historical information (yet!) about this old water supply. It was one of the great sites of the cailleach in our Yorkshire hills: a truly ancient and heathen place, all but forgotten and lost in the mythic landscape of our past. And it’s a bittova dodgy spot getting right up to her down the rather steep hilly slope — but it’s truly well worth the trek!
The Old Wife’s Spring
When I first visited this place, we took off from Cam Fell’s western side and ambled up the tops until the land gave us the beauty of Snaizeholme valley, which had us stopping, dreaming and wanting more as we sought to find this forgotten well. Most of you would probably come from the easier side of Hawes and walk along the path on the southern-side of the valley, or p’raps even wander up Snaizeholme valley itself – but I’d recommend a walk along the tops. Tis much much better!
If you’ve got the 1:25,000-scale OS-map, you’ll see the ‘Old Wife’s Gill’ running down the hillside. Get over the wall by the track-side and stagger down the steep slope. You’ll pass a small spring about 70 yards down – but this aint the one (though I think originally the Old Wife came from much further up Dodd Fell itself). You’ve got another 75 yards to go down before you get to the main spring – but if you’re old and fragile, unfit or fat, you’ll struggle like hell here!
The waters emerge from this very steep slope, surrounded by plenty of thorns and thistles, on a part of the hill where the land itself is slowly coming away. After a long dry-spell no doubt, this might be a little more secure; but when we came here She’d been raining on-and-off like hell and the waters were a-plenty. It’s difficult to actually locate the exact spot where the water first appears – but like I said, it seems to have, long ago, come from much further up the hill. As the photos show, the water’s nice n’ clear, good-tasting, and then continues along its downward stream – known as the Old Wife’s Gill – until hitting the small river at the valley bottom.
The Old Wife’s Spring from below
The other site in this valley which assures us of the cailleach’s validity comes from the place-name a few hundred yards further up the valley, seemingly giving source to the valley river herself: a Lady Spring or well, whose form once emerged close to the gate of the Cold Well close by. The third part of the cailleach’s form – the maiden or virginal – has been lost as far as local myth and literary records go. But I’ve gotta come here a few more times to get an idea as to where this ‘lost’ water-source originally appeared. A number of streams run off the hills here into the curiously-named Snaizeholme valley (which etymologists assign to nowt more than a “place where twigs are” – which seems nonsensical), and as there’s been very little by way of human habitation screwing the land up, there’s a damn good chance we’ll find and recover the mythic history of the landscape here after a few more treks and dreams…
Other sites of similar mythic relevance which need checking include Carlow Hill (SD 770 858)at Stonehouse, Dentdale; and the great valley of Carlin Gill on the North Yorkshire/Cumbria border (SD 634 993 – Gambles 1995:39).
Also known as the Allman’s Well, an inscription with an 1818 datestone was to be found here. But according to folklorists Dave Clarke & Phil Reeder, the site can no longer be found as its waters were “diverted for use at a nearby farm.” However, something that does need checking is their description of a cup-and-ring stone on one of the boulders close by – reckoned to be one of those dropped by the dragon which gives the well its name.
Folklore
Something strange was once going on in this locality if place-names and legends have owt to go by. The local Wharncliffe Dragon, as it was known, used to fly from its home at the Dragon’s Den (a mile-and-a-half east of here) and drink the waters from this well. On one of its flights from Wharncliffe Crags, it carried with it three huge boulders which it dropped in transit and which were said by the folklorists David Clarke and Phil Reeder “to stand in a line on the slope below the well at Townend Common.”
The water from here was said to be good for curing both asthma and bronchitis and was also said never to have dried up, even in the greatest of droughts.
References:
Wilson, Rob, Holy Wells and Spas of South Yorkshire, Northern Arts: Sheffield 1991.
Another great mountain of the ‘Old Woman’: primal creation deity of these hills. Whether she holds sway over the land here for many months, as she does on Mull and Skye, I cannot find. One creation legend here tells that one of the furrows down the side of the mountain – called Sgrìoh na Caillich – was said to be made by her as she slid down it in a sitting position. The small loch on the way up to her summit – Lochan na Caillich – was one of her washing places; and the Beinn na Caillich Beag, immediately east, speaks of other legends, now seemingly lost to us. It’s highly likely that some of the megalithic remains nearby had some mythic relationship with this old hill, though I aint found any studies along these lines…yet!
