Located in the copse known as Godwell’s Grove on the western boundary of Arkesden, there are good grounds for thinking this was a sacred well: not necessarily relating to the christian God, but what A.H. Smith (1956) described simply as, from the old English, “a (heathen) god.” Another site of the same name is found in Wiltshire. In the local survey by Parish (2010), he told that “its name suggests it is a holy well.”
In Reaney’s (1976) survey on English place-names, he looks at a number of places where the element “god” is found and explores the notion of them recording a personal name, Gode. This is evident of course, but he stated that,
“it would indeed be a remarkable coincidence if all these names…were to contain the personal-name Gode, a short form of Godric, Godwine, etc. It in inconceivable that the reference should be to the christian deity… All are situated in areas of early settlement where heathen place-names might be expected and may well contain OE god, ‘a god’.”
There is no longer any trace of the well.
References:
Parish, R.B., Holy Wells and Healing Springs of Essex, Pixyled Press: Nottingham 2010.
Reaney, P.H., The Place-Names of Essex, Cambridge University Press 1935.
Reaney, P.H., The Origin of English Place-Names, RKP: London 1976.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Name Elements – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Robin Hood wells are numerous in Yorkshire and Derbyshire, but finding them in this neck o’ the woods is unusual (a Robin Hood’s Farm can be found nearly 14 miles south). The waters here would have had obvious importance for local peasant folk in bygone centuries, perhaps with scatterings of Beltane and Midsummer rites hereby; but it seems that records are silent on such matters. The only reference I can find of this place is in Bracken’s (1860) fascinating work on Sutton Coldfield, where he told that,
“At the extremity of the parish, near Pype, a little field is still called the Bowbearer’s Croft. Tradition says two officers of the chase, bowbearers, had a lodge there; and that their duty was to guide the travellers across the wild country. A very old cottage, that had been well built, was removed from the croft in 1828. In that neighbourhood was a fountain, called Robin Hood’s well, now enclosed within the grounds of Penns, where the natural beauties of the situation have been judiciously displayed and improved by the taste of the late proprietor, Joseph Webster.”
Marshy ground to the east of Pype Hall fed the large pond, which is one contender for the site of this lost well. What has become of it? A search in the local library archives for any old manorial maps, or the field-name maps showing Bowbearer’s would prove truly helpful in relocating this site.
References:
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Highlighted on the 1884 Ordnance Survey map of the region and located beyond the far eastern end of Braceridge Lake, this legendary well has seen better days. A small well-house once covered the spring, but all we have left today is little more than a rectangular stone-lined concrete hole-in-the-ground where the waters collect (hopefully some local folk can bring it back to life). But in the 19th century it was well known, much frequented and maintained.
Not much seems to be known about its mythic history, as the traditions surrounding its dual pagan-christian dedication seem to have been forgotten. When the local writer Tom Burgess (1893) came to explore its history, he merely wrote:
“How it came to be called the Druids’ Well is not known, it is scarcely necessary to say that it can have no Druidical connection; it is very probable, however, that it was dedicated to Saint Mary long before the dam of Bracebridge Pool was made by Ralph Bracebridge in the reign of Henry V.”
Druids Well in 1917Druid’s Well in 1932
Jeremy Harte (2008) suggested that this well’s druidic association may have come from a local man, William Hutton who, in the middle of the 18th century, “speculated on a druid sanctuary near Sutton Coldfield.” But before Hutton, the 17th century Staffordshire topographer, Robert Plot, suggested that an arch-druid held residence on Barr Beacon, which is less than three miles west of here. This idea was echoed by Midgley (1904) who told that Barr Beacon “is supposed to have been a Druidical shrine.” Just over three miles to the northwest, the Druid’s Heath (a place-name derived, apparently, from an old family) at Aldridge also had its own array of folklore which, perhaps, may have had something to do with this well’s association. When Roy Palmer (1976) wrote about the Druid’s Well in his folklore survey, he told that Sutton Coldfield,
“is said once to have been the seat of the arch-druid of Britain; perhaps this was his well, which was later christianized.”
So much to choose from…
References:
Bord, Janet, Holy Wells in Britain – A Guide, HOAP: Wymeswold 2008.
Bracken, L., History of the Forest and Chase of Sutton Coldfield, Simpkin Marshall: London 1860.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Midgley, W., A Short History of the Town and Chase of Suton Coldfield, Midland Counties Herald: Birmingham 1904.
Palmer, Roy, The Folklore of Warwickshire, Batsford: London 1976.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
About mile south of Northchurch, on the far side of the A41 dual carriageway, somewhere past the old crossroads (or perhaps even at the crossing) an ancient tree lived—and truly lived in the minds of local people, for perhaps a thousand years or so. Mentioned in the Lay Subsidy Rolls in 1307, the Cross Oak gave its name to the old building that once stood in the trees and the hill itself, at the place now known as Oak Corner. Whether or not a “cross” of any form was set up by this old oak, records are silent on the matter. Its heathen ways however, were pretty renowned! (a plaque should be mounted here)
Folklore
The first reference I’ve found of this place is in William Black’s (1883) folklore survey where he told that “certain oak trees at Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire, were long famous for the cure of ague”—ague being an intense fever or even malaria. But a few years later when the local historian Henry Nash (1890) wrote about this place, he told that there was only one tree that was renowned for such curative traditions, that being the Cross Oak. He gave us the longest account of the place, coming from the old tongues who knew of it when they were young—and it had it’s very own ritual which, if abided by, would cure a person of their malady. “The legend ran thus”, wrote Mr Nash:
“Any one suffering from this disease was to proceed, with the assistance of a friend, to the old oak tree, known as Cross Oak, then to bore a small hole in the said tree, gather up a lock of the patient’s hair and make it fast in the hole with a peg, the patient then to tear himself from the tree, leaving the lock behind, and the disease was to disappear.
“This process was found to be rather a trying one for a weak patient, and by some authority unknown the practice was considerably modified. It was found to be equally efficacious to remove a lock of hair by gentle means, and convey it to the tree and peg it in securely, and with the necessary amount of faith the result was generally satisfactory. This is no mere fiction, as the old tree with its innumerable peg-holes was able to testify. This celebrated tree, like many other celebrities, has vanished, and another occupies its place, but whether it possesses the same healing virtues as its predecessor is doubtful. It is however a curious coincidence, that the bane and the antidote have passed away together.”
The lore of this magickal tree even found its way into one of J.G. Frazer’s (1933) volumes of The Golden Bough, where he told how the “transference of the malady to the tree was simple but painful.”
Traditions such as this are found in many aboriginal cultures from different parts of the world, where the spirit of the tree (or stone, or well…) will take on the illness of the person for an offering from the afflicted person: basic sympathetic magick, as it’s known. Our Earth is alive!
References:
Black, William G., Folk Medicine, Folk-lore Society: London 1883.
Frazer, James G., The Scapegoat, MacMillan: London 1933.
Jones-Baker, Doris, The Folklore of Hertfordshire, B.T. Batsford: London 1977.
Nash, Henry, Reminiscences of Berkhamsted, W. Cooper & Nephews: Berkhamsted 1890.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Holy Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SP 4506 4055
Archaeology & History
Well highlighted, in 1730
The holy well of Banbury seems to have been destroyed sometime in the second-half of the 19th century, when the industrialists built over the area. When the historian Alfred Beesley (1841) wrote about it, the waters were still running. He told it to be, “a chalybeate spring, well-known and still often visited, situated on the west side of the town, a little north of the footway leading to North Newington.”
The footpath is obviously long gone—as is the well. It’s iron-bearing (chalybeate) properties would have given the waters good fortifying properties, perhaps of some renown to local people yet, according to Mr Beesley, it was a slow-flowing spring. In his brief history of the site, he also gave us the results of a chemical examination of its healing waters, telling us:
“This is called St. Stephen’s Well in a plan of Sir John Cope’s property at Banbury made in 1764. It also appears prominently as “A Well ” in an unfinished view of Banbury made in 1730 (illustrated above)….
The water of this spring is perfectly clear and colourless, having a brisk and slightly chalybeate taste. The stone channel is coated with a light red deposit, and a scum of the same colour appears on the water in parts where stagnant. The spring discharges from half a gallon to one gallon in a minute. In 32 oz. of the water at 60° are,
Carbonic Acid gas, 5 cubic inches
Hydrochlorate Magnesia, 0.21 grains.
Chloride Sodium or common Salt, 0.54
Sulphate Lime, 1.5
Carbonate Lime, 3.8
Protoxide Iron, 0.024
Silica a trace
Total weight of solid contents – 6.074″
Folklore
St. Stephen is an odd character. His annual celebration or feast day in Britain is December 26. (in eastern countries it’s a day later) Rites connected to this character are decidedly heathen in nature. From the 10th century, in England, St Stephen’s Day has been inexorably intertwined with horses, bleeding them on his feast days, apparently for their own health. Water blessed by priests on this day would be kept for the year and used as a medicine for horses during that time. Also on this day, young lads would “hunt the wren” and, once caught, impale it on top of a long pole and take it from house to house. Despite this curious motif being a puzzle to folklore students, Mircea Eliade (1964) explained how this symbolism is extremely archaic and “the bird perched on a stick is a frequent symbol in shamanic circles.”
Eliade, Mircea, Shamanism – Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press 1964.
Harte, Jeremy, English Holy Wells – volume 2, Heart of Albion press: Wymeswold 2008.
Johnson, William P., The History of Banbury, G. Walford: Banbury 1860.
Acknowledgements:Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Maypole (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SU 655 781
Archaeology & History
“g” marks the spot!
Very little is known about the history surrounding Whitchurch’s maypole that once stood more than a mile east of the village, somewhere in the woods immediately south of the present-day cannabis-growing Hempem Organics. (damn those hippies!) Mentioned in the Enclosure Acts of 1806 and 1813 as the “May Pole Ground”, the monument was mentioned in the Rev. John Slatter’s (1895) local history work and its approximate location was shown on a hand-drawn map he did of the area, in the grounds north of Hardwick House. He told us that it stood on “an elevated site” and conjectured that it might once have been a place of druidical worship!
“In the centre of the Hardwick property is a plot of ground called the Maypole Piece…. It is an open space, with a tree standing alone, where we may suppose the maypole formerly stood. There is a memorandum made by the last Mrs. Lybbe (nee Isabella Twysden) to this effect:
1713: A maypole set up on ye hill in ye straight way to Collinsend.”
In the event that you manage to discover anything else about the history of this maypole, let us know on our Facebook group.
References:
Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire – volume 1, Cambridge University Press 1953.
Slattter, John, Notes on the History of the Parish of Whitchurch, Elliot Stock: London 1895.
Holy Well (lost): OS Grid Reference – NC 725 538 (approximation)
Archaeology & History
It would appear that there’s only one literary reference to this seemingly lost holy well, located halfway down megalithic Strathnaver, somewhere close to the legendary Loch ma Naire. James Horsburgh’s (1870) essay on the antiquities of this area mentioned it, almost in passing, in his description of the Dun Viden broch. He told that,
“Close to Dun Viden is Loch Manaar, where dozens of people come twice every year for the cure of diseases. They come before sunrise, bathe in the loch, walk round it, drink from a holy well (my emphasis), and throw some pieces of money into the loch. There is a legend about this loch, which I forget; but a woman was chased by a priest, and threw something in it, and called out that it was Loch Manaar—that is, the loch of my shame. “
The holy well is referred to in Historic Scotland’s Canmore entry, citing both the New Statistical Account and Name Books as referrals to the site, yet neither of them include this well in their surveys; it is only through Horbugh that we hear of this site—and we know not where it lived! In the event that it still exists, we’d expect it to be not more than 2-300 yards from the edge of Loch ma Naire; or perhaps it may be the source of the Loch ma Naire burn itself, nearly a mile to the east…. Seek and thee shalt find, as the old saying goes…
From Comrie take the B827 road to Braco and less than a mile out of town keep your eyes peeled for the tiny Glen Artney road on your right. Past the derelict Dalness cottage 3 miles on, a half-mile further, just where you hit a track-road veering downhill on your right, you need to park up in the small parking-spot on your left. Walk along the road 100 yards, keeping your eyes peeled again for the gate set back on your left (easy to miss!); go thru here, walk up the old path which bends back on itself before leveling out and, as it does, two or three small boulders lie just off the pathway on your right, one with its own petroglyph.
Archaeology & History
There are cups, rings and lines on this old stone, with the lines in particular being somewhat troublesome when it comes to working out their origin: some are natural, some made by modern farming implements (about a hundred years back), and some that were carved thousands of years ago—and it’s not that easy to work out which is which. You’ll be able to see what I mean by looking at the photos.
Rediscovered, it would seem, by M.D. King in 1991, he described it plainly as a simple
“recumbent cup-marked stone 1900mm by 1200mm by 300mm…found in a stone dyke running down the hill from the deserted farm of Mailer Fuar. The stone may have been moved down from its original position for inclusion in the now ruinous stone dyke. Fourteen cup-marks were visible on the stone.”
Complete cup-and-ringsCnRs and various lines
But there’s much more to it than that! There are rings around the cups for starters. Four of them. Two cup-and-rings next to each other at the southeast portion of the stone are just about complete, as you can see (right); the various lines that run either side and into them seem to be a mix of early and more recent scratches—although I think we’re best asking a petromorphologist to tell us which is which! We have a similar problem for another cup-and-ring near the centre of the stone, for it has two lines going right through its centre: one of them running almost the full north-south length of the stone giving the impression it was carved a long time back, yet looking much less ancient when it comes to its form and erosion; whilst the other line—almost at right-angles to the first—has a decidedly more archaic worn appearance.
General design in low lightLong line, curving at top
One of the more assured “ancient” carved lines is on the eastern section of the stone. (left) It’s an odd looking thing, not very clear on the photo, comprising an elongated curved line, with a fork at the bottom, almost like short legs on an elongated stick-man like the ones we drew as kids. The long line seems to eventually curve over and into one of the cup-marks. Adjacent to the bottom of this forked curve is a cup and faint incomplete ring with a faint line running out of its centre to a smaller faint cup to its west. You can see this reasonably well in the lower photo (right)
The carving needs a lot of attention if we’re to work out its original design, as the photos show. Even the millionaire computer-tech work of the Scottish rock art club didn’t really suss out the differences regarding chronological elements in this carving (I don’t think they even mentioned it), which shows how difficult some of these buggers can be! Personally, I’d love to see the impression of some good artists at this stone when the light’s just right and see what their mind’s eye brings to the fore.
After all this I’ve not even mentioned its position in the landscape. Go check it out and see for y’selves. It’s a bittova beauty! And then wander a little further uphill to look at the Allt na Drochaide (1) carving I found not long ago. The view’s even better from there!
Stone Circle (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NN 9424 5871
Archaeology & History
Missing from the primary surveys of Burl (2000) and Barnatt (1989), a mention of this long lost site was made by local historian Hugh Mitchell (1923) in his survey of the area. He told that,
“On the east side of the Moulin road beyond the Hydro Hotel a knoll and a clump of trees will be noticed on the right, inside the Hydropathic grounds; this knoll is known as the Cnoc Dubh, or “Black Knoll” and still bears an uncanny reputation as being an old site of Pagan worship. There was at one time a stone circle on it, but the stones are said to have been broken up, fully 100 years ago, to build the old farmhouse of Balnadrum.”
Something ancient was there, obviously, as it was mentioned in another earlier account—albeit just a tourist guide of Atholl—which said that, on
“the knoll known as Knock-Dhu, within the (Pitlochry Hydro) grounds, are the remains of a pre-historic fort, now overgrown with pine trees.”
References:
Anon., Atholl Illustrated, L. Mackay: Pitlochry c.1910.
Dixon, John H., Pitlochry Past and Present, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1925.
Mitchell, H., Pitlochry and District: Its Topography, Archaeology and History, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1923.
Cross / Sacred Tree: OS Grid Reference – NN 581 012
Also Known as:
Law Tree
Archaeology & History
As a folklorist and antiquarian, I find this long lost site more than intriguing. Most ancient crosses are stone; but in early centuries many were made from wood which, obviously, have decayed down the years. But this cross, located on the northeast edge of the Lake of Menteith, was actually a tree: a hawthorn no less. This choice would have been made based on it being one of the few trees that are deemed sacred in both christian and indigenous lore. It was described—albeit briefly—in A.F. Hutchison’s (1899) excellent history book of the area:
“The cross of the burgh is said to have been the trunk of an old hawthorn tree, which stood by the lake side, opposite the manse of Port, and was known as ” the law tree.” Around this tree an annual fair was held in the month of September, and called after St. Michael.”
We’re obviously seeing here the traditional animistic veneration of trees by local people, with the incoming christian symbol being grafted onto it. Hawthorns were one of the potent protections against witchcraft and so the handshake between christian and pre-christian systems obviously worked here. Faerie-lore was also rampant at many places for many miles around this site.
References:
Hutchison, Andrew F., The Lake of Menteith – Its Islands and Vicinity, Eneas Mackay: Stirling 1899.
