Maypole (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0458 9121
Redmire’s ancient Oak
Archaeology & History
As with many of Britain’s old maypoles, the one at Redmire has long since disappeared and no local in the 20th century appears to have had any memory of it. However, it was mentioned in Victorian times and described in McGregor’s (1989) fine history work on the village:
“At one time, somewhere on the Green, stood a maypole which was destroyed by lightning. I never heard the memory of it recalled during my early life, but it is mentioned in their books by both Barker and Bogg. The remnants of it appear to have been there in 1850 or 1852, as Barker, writing at that time says, ‘A maypole, rare in Yorkshire, stands on the Green. It was shivered to pieces by the electric fluid, during a thunderstorm, in the summer of 1849. This poor maypoles catastrophe would have been regarded by the old Puritans as a direct and visible manifestation of the wrath of heaven at such a heathenish practice.’ Redmire, as we know, took pleasure in dancing in the 19th century, and continued to do so, especially after the building of the Town Hall…”
When Edmund Bogg came here at the end of th 19th century, he saw “the base of the ancient maypole…near to, a twisted and ancient oak” whose ancient branches were being held upright by large wooden posts. This sacred oak itself was said to “still cast its shade over a small spring of water.” Unfortunately I ‘ve found no more about this lost pagan relic…
References:
Barker, W.G.M.J., The Three Days of Wensleydale, Charles Dolman: London 1854.
Bogg, Edmund, Wensleydale and the Lower Vale of Yore, E. Bogg: Leeds n.d. (c.1900)
McGregor, Isabelle, Redmire – A Patchwork of its History, privately printed: Redmire 1989.
From Dunkeld travel southeast on the A984 road to Caputh and after about 1½ miles, set back a few yards from the road amidst the trees below the Newtyle Quarries (whose mass of slate and loose rocks cover the slopes), you’ll see these two large monoliths. There’s nowhere to park here, but there’s a small road a coupla hundred yards before the stones aswell as a space to park on the verge by the side of the road a few hundred yards after them. Take your pick!
Archaeology & History
When we visited these two tall standing stones a few weeks ago, guerilla archaeologist Hornby and I were a little perplexed at the state of these stones, wondering whether they were a product of the fella’s who dug the quarries above here, or whether they were truly ancient. It seems the latter is the consensus opinion!
They were described by the great Fred Coles (1908) in one of his lengthy essays on the megaliths of Perthshire, where he thought the two stones here were all that remained of a stone circle that once stood on the flat, above the River Tay, but whose other stones “were destroyed in the making of the road” which runs right past here. Not so sure misself! He told that,
“An old cart-track runs up between the stones, leading from the main road…up to the quarry. The mean axis of the two stones runs N 13° W and S 13° E (true), and although their broader faces do not point towards the centre of a circle on the west, it is certainly much more probable that the other stones were on this side, the lower and flatter ground, than on the east, where the ground slopes and is more broken and rough.
“Both stones are of the common quartzose schist, but they differ considerably in shape. A is 6 feet 7 inches high at the north corner, but only 4 feet 10 inches at the south, and its vertical height at the east is only 3 feet. The basal girth is 13 feet 3 inches, and in the middle 15 feet 9 inches. The broad east face measures 5 feet. Stone B is level-topped and 5 feet in height; it has a basal girth of 12 feet 4 inches, and at the middle of 11 feet 8 inches. Its two broad faces are of the same breadth.”
Little else was said of the two stones for many years and, to my knowledge, no real excavation has been undertaken here. But when Alexander Thom (1990) visited the site he found that,
“This two stone alignment showed the midsummer setting sun. The south stone may possibly, by itself, have shown the setting Moon at major standstill.”
Aubrey Burl’s description of the stones was succinct and echoed much of what Coles had said decades earlier, telling:
“Two very large stones stand only 9 feet (2.7m) apart in an unusually closed-in environment for a Perthshire pair. The ground rises very steeply to the east. To the west the stones overlook the valley of the River Tay.
“Both are of local quartzoze schist and are ‘playing-card’ in shape. As usual it is the westernmost stone that is taller, 7ft 2in (2.2m) in height. Its peak tapers almost to a point. Conversely, its partner is flat-topped and only 4ft 9in (1.5m) high. The pairing of such dissimilarly shaped stones has led to the interpretation of them as male and female personifications.”
Alex Thom’s groundplanBack of the smaller stone
Burl’s latter remark thoughtfully recognises that such animistic qualities are found in many other cultures in the world and this ingredient was also an integral part of early peasant notions in Britain; therefore such ingredients are necessities to help us understand the nature and function of megalithic sites. We must be cautious however, not to fall into the increasingly flawed modern pagan notion of such male and female ‘polarizations’, nor the politically-correct sexist school of goddess ‘worship’ and impose such delusions upon our ancestors, whose worldviews had little relationship with the modern pagan goddess fallacies, beloved of modern Press, TV shows and pantomime festival displays.
Folklore
In Elizabeth Stewart’s history of Dunkeld, she narrates the tale told by an earlier historian who told that,
“these two upright stones at the Doo’s Nest, but says they are supposed to mark the graves of two Danish warriors returning from the invasion of Dunkeld.”
References:
Burl, Aubrey, From Carnac to Callanish, Yale University Press 1993.
Coles, Fred, “Report on Stone Circles Surveyed in Perthshire – Northeastern Section,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 42, 1908.
Stewart, Elizabeth, Dunkeld – An Ancient City, Munro Press: Perth 1926.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Stone Rows and Standing Stones – 2 volumes, BAR: Oxford 1990.
From the lovely village of Summerbridge (near Pateley Bridge), go up the steep Hartwith Bank road, going straight across at the crossroads for another few hundred yards, passing the old tombs of Graffa Plain on your right…and they’ll start appearing on your left-hand side (west). Do not go into the expensive National Trust car-park. Instead (if you’ve already gone too far), about 100 yards before the Car Park you’ll find a small dirt-track on your left a short distance away. But if you drive past the rip-off car park, another 100 yards on there’s another spot where you can easily park up on the right-hand side of the road. Then cross the road and follow y’ nose…
Archaeology & History
The OS grid reference given above is an approximation — for obvious reasons. This is a huge area that’s covered by Britain’s finest natural megalithic features, obviously sculptured by Nature Herself — though many are the historians who sought to give Druids the credit here. God knows how! The area over which these magnificent rock sentinels live covers some 60 acres and is some 1000 feet above sea level. The view from the hill around which the encircling parade of rocks guards is excellent, allowing our eyes to catch focus on the distant lands of Whernside, Simon’s Seat, York Minster, the Cleveland Hills and Kilburn’s white horse. It’s quite a view.
Easternmost Rocking StoneIdol Stone (Godfrey Higgins 1826)
But this tends to be overlooked when you first visit the place, as the rocks which surround and walk alongside you overwhelm with impressions not encountered before. To those with spirit, you’ll be bouncing and running all day here, clambering upon rocking stones, jumping between dodgy gorges that await falls, and just aching to climb pinnacles that deny you. But then, if you need the selfishness of silence, this arena will only grant such solace when the rains are about, or dense fog and low cloud keeps others from this haunting amphitheatre. And it’s not surprising… The mass of rocks contort into the most beautiful and curious simulacra, which would not have gone unnoticed, nor deemed unimportant in the sacred landscape of our ancestors…
Brimham Rocks have been written about since the 17th century, though they didn’t receive the serious attention of outsiders until the 19th, when numerous Victorian writers — from antiquarians and geologists, to archaeologists and Druids — got to hear about the place. And by the beginning of the 20th century, a veritable mass of articles had been written in journals and travelogues of all persuasions! These quiet Yorkshire Rocks had become truly famous!
Brimham Rocks (Walbran 1856)Old Woman and her consort
A lengthy essay was written in the distinguished archaeology journal of its time, Archaeologia, by northern historian Hayman Rooke (1787), who thought that some of the rocks here had been tampered with by the druids; with the legendary Cannon Rock in particular possessing oracular properties. The site as a whole was, he posited, a temple for Druids in ancient days. Certainly the place would have been deemed as sacred, whether by the druids or our more remote neolithic and Bronze Age ancestors.
Harry Speight & his mates, c.1890
In Harry Speight’s magnum opus, Nidderdale (1894), he described these rocky giants as best as he could, admitting as others before and since, that no mere words can convey the impression that only a personal encounter liberates, saying:
“The Brimham Rocks are among the greatest natural wonders of Yorkshire, and many have been the theories from time to time advanced as to the cause of their extraordinary aspects… The resemblances to natural and artificial objects are most striking. There we have the Elephant Rock, the Porpoise Head, the Dancing Bear (a very singular, naturally-shaped specimen), the Boat Rock, showing the bow and stern completely, etc. Then there is the great Idol Rock, a most mysterious-looking object, of almost incredible size and form. It is a perfectly detached block, fully twenty feet high, weathered along face joints into three roughly circular pieces, each from 40 to 50 feet in circumference, piled one above the other; the whole mass, weighing by estimation over 200 tons, being poised on a pyramid 3½ feet in diameter; the pivot itself supporting this immense column having a diameter of barely 12 inches.
“East of the guide’s house are the famous Rocking Stones, consisting of a group of four rocks, which were discovered to be movable in the year 1786. The two on the west side weighing approximately 50 and 25 tons, require but little force to vibrate, while those on the east side, though much smaller are not so well poised and do not move readily. Each of the larger stones has a basin-like cavity on the top, and a kind of knee-hole open to the north, said to be the work of Druids. Close to the Rocking Stones are the appropriately-named Oyster-shell Rock, and the Hippopotamus’ Head. Turning now some thirty yards north of the Idol Rock we ascend Mount Delectable, where is the agreeable Courting or Kissing Chair, happily at not too close quarters with the above Hippopotamus’ Head and Boar’s Snout. The Chair consists of a single seat, but why it should be so called, I had better leave the amorous lover to solve. West of these is the more sober Druid’s Reading Desk, with its church-like lectern on a stout stone base. The we come to the Lover’s Leap, a gigantic and abrupt face of beetling crag, weathered to the west, and rising to a height of 60 to 70 feet, with three immense fragments balanced in a very remarkable manner at the summit. The rock is in tow principal sections, and an iron hand-rail has been fixed across the chasm to enable visitors to look down from the top. Further south are the Frog and Tortoise Rocks, the latter presenting from one point of view a capital resemblance to a tortoise creeping up the face of the crag towards the imaged frog. A little below this is a good imitation of a cannon, projecting from the edge of the cliff. In addition to these singular resemblances there are many others which the guide points out, such as the Yoke of Oxen, Mushroom Rocks, Druid’s Oven, Dog’s Head, Telescope, and the curiously perforated Cannon Rock, etc.”
In a later work, Speight (1906) also mentioned the existence of a Druid’s Circle some 300 yards west of the main natural temples, but this site appears to have been destroyed. Thankfully the large standing stone on Hartwith Moor, a mile to the south, can still be found upright…
Folklore
Idol Stone (Hargrove 1809)
In folklore, there’s little surprise this place was held by just about every 18th and 19th century historian as a ‘druidic site.’ But more interesting – in the light of Paul Devereux’s (2001) work on acoustic archaeology – is what Edmund Bogg (c.1895) said of these huge contorted stones:
“In bygone days these immense stones were supposed to be the habitation of spirits. The echo given from the rocks was said to be the voice of the spirit who dwelt there, and which the people named the Son of the Rocks. From a conversation we had with the peasantry not far from here, it seems the ancient superstition had not yet fully disappeared.”
This is precisely the notion of spirit given to rocky places elsewhere in the world, where the very echo was perceived as the ‘voice of the rocks’. Meditate on it a bit, in situ. (a fine summary of this notion and its implications — which has crept into archaeology of late — can be found in Paul Devereux’s work, Stone Age Soundtracks)
One of Brimham’s southwestern rocks was known as the Noon Stone when Mr Rooke (1787) came here. There are many stones with this name scattering Yorkshire and other northern counties, each with the same mythic background: that the sun casts a shadow from it at midday to indicate the time of day. Of this Noon Stone Mr Hooke also told us that,
“On Midsummer Eve fires are lighted on the side. Its situation is apposite for this purpose, being on the edge of a hill, commanding an extensive view. This custom is of the most remote antiquity.”
On the very southern edge of Brimham’s Rocks (some might say beyond their real border) is the Beacon Rock — and it is aptly named: as in the year 1887 on the day of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, a great beacon fire was lit here, signalling to others in the distance. Its title however, pre-dates Victoria’s Jubilee, though we don’t know how far back in time it goes…
…to be continued…
References:
Bogg, Edmund, From Eden Vale to the Plains of York, James Miles: Leeds c.1895.
Devereux, Paul, Stone Age Soundtracks: The Acoustic Archaeology of Ancient Sites, Vega: London 2001.
Grainge, William, The History and Topography of Harrogate and the Forest of Knaresborough, John Russell Smith: London 1871.
Harrison, William, A Descriptive Account of Brimham Rocks in the West Riding of Yorkshire, A. Johnson: Ripon 1846.
Michell, John, The Earth Spirit: Its Ways, Shrines and Mysteries, Thames & Hudson: London 1975.
Michell, John, Simulacra, Thames & Hudson: London 1979.
Rooke, Hayman, “Some Account of the Brimham Rocks in Yorkshire,” in Archaeologia journal, volume 8, 1787.
Speight, Harry, Nidderdale and the Garden of the Nidd, Elliot Stock: London 1894.
Speight, Harry, Upper Nidderdale, with the Forest of Knaresborough, Elliot Stock: London 1906.
Walbran, John Richard, A Guide to Ripon, Fountains Abbey, Harrogate, Bolton Abbey, etc, Johnson: Ripon 1856.
Follow the same directions to find the Blackheath Circle, but instead of turning onto the golf course, keep going up the steep road until you reach the T-junction at the top; then turn left and go along the road for about 200 yards, past the second track on the left, keeping your eyes peeled across the small moorland to your left where you can see the rocks rising up. Walk along the footpath towards them. You can’t really miss the place!
Archaeology & History
The Bride at sunset – the fallen Groom to her left
If you’re a heathen or geologist and you aint seen this place, check it out – you won’t be disappointed! First mentioned in 1491, this has always been a place of some repute. Its legendary companion, the ‘Groom’, lays resting on the Earth after being felled sometime in the 17th century.
F.A. Leyland’s 1860s drawing
A beautiful, remarkable and powerful site of obvious veneration. First described in local deeds as early as 1491, there are a great number of severely weathered boulders all round here, many like frozen rock giants haunting a magickal landscape. The modern lore ascribes the stones to be dedicated to Bride, goddess of the Brigantian people. And like Her legendary triple-aspect, we find here in the landscape a triple aspect to the outcrops themselves: to the west are the Bride Stones; to the east, the Little Bride Stones; with the Great Bride Stones as the central group, surveying everything around here.
At the main complex is what is singularly known as the Bride itself: a great smooth upright pillar of stone fourteen feet tall and nine feet wide at the top, yet only about two feet wide near its base, seemingly defying natural law. Watson (1775) described, next to the Bride herself, “stood another large stone, called the Groom…(which) has been thrown down by the country people” – probably under order of the Church. Crossland (1902) told how the Bride also acquired the title, “T’ Bottle Neck,” because of the stone’s simulacrum of an upturned bottle.
The Bride & her Groom (laid on the earth)The ‘head’ or top of the Bride Stone
Scattered across the tops of the many rocks hereby are many “druid basins” as Harland and Wilkinson (1882) described them. Many of these are simply basins eroded over the millenia by the natural elements of wind and rain. It is possible that some of these basins were carved out by human hands, but it’s nigh on impossible to say for sure those that were and those that were not. If we could find a ring around at least one of them, it would help — but in all our searches all round here, we’ve yet to locate one complete cup-and-ring. So we must remain sceptical.
On the mundane etymological side of things, the excellent tract by F.A. Leyland (c.1867) suggested the Bride Stones actually had nothing to do with any goddess or heathenism, but derived simply from,
“the Anglo-Saxon adjective Βñáð, signifying broad, large, vast — hence the name of the three groups known as the Bride Stones. The name of The Groom, conferred on the prostrate remains, appears to have been suggested by the fanciful definition of the Saxon Brád, as given by (Watson).”
However, the modern place-name authority A.H. Smith (1963:3:174) says very simply that the name derives from “bryd, a bride.”
A “rude stone” was described in one tract as being a short distance below this great rock outcrop; it was turned into a cross by the local christian fanatics and moved a few hundred yards west, to a site that is now shown on modern OS-maps as the Mount Cross.
Folklore
Although local history records are silent over the ritual nature of these outcrops, tradition and folklore cited by the antiquarian Reverend John Watson (1775) tell them as a place of pagan worship. People were said to have married here, although whether such lore evolved from a misrepresentation of the title, Bride, is unsure. In the present day though there have been a number of people who have married here in recent years.
If the Brigantian goddess was venerated here, the date of the most active festivities would have been February 1-2, or Old Wives Feast day as it was known in the north. The modern witches Janet and Stewart Farrar, who wrote extensively about this deity (1987), said of Bride: “one is really speaking of the primordial Celtic Great Mother Herself,” i.e., the Earth Mother.
Telling of further lore, Watson said that weddings performed here in ages past stuck to an age-old tradition:
“during the ceremony, the groom stood by one of these pillars, and the bride by the other, the priests having their stations by the adjoining stones, the largest perhaps being appropriated to the arch-druid.”
New Age author Monica Sjoo felt the place “to have a special and uncanny power.” This almost understates the place: it is truly primal and possesses the virtues of strength, energy, birth and solace.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Crossland, Charles, “Place-Names in the Parish of Halifax in Relation to Surrounding Natural Features,” in Halifax Naturalist, volume 7, 1902.
Farrar, Janet & Stewart, The Witches’ Goddess, Hale: London 1987.
Harland, John & Wilkinson, T.T., Lancashire Folklore, John Heywood: Manchester 1882.
Leyland, F.A., The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, by the Reverend John Watson, M.A., R.Leyland: Halifax n.d. (c.1867).
Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 3, Cambridge University Press 1963.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Described on the earliest OS-map of the region as Taber Chalaich, this great “well of the old woman, or hag” is found on the northern slopes of Cairds Hill, amidst increasingly dense woodland up the top of the stream which ebbs and flows in strength (depending on the weather). A water source dedicated the prima mater Herself — i.e., the heathen pre-Celtic female creation deity par excellence — it was once of considerable repute locally as being a great curing well and was described by Ruth and Frank Morris (1981) as being,
“the scene of a pagan ceremony in which the Earth Mother in her old woman phase bathed at the well and returned as a young maiden.”
On the hill at the top we find remains of old tombs (mistakenly ascribed by Mr & Mrs Morris as ‘stone circles’), some of which may have had some mythic relationship with this legendary water source. Further information and/or any photos of this little-known site would be hugely welcomed!
Plenty of ways of approaching this huge fella! Personally, I’d take it from the steep valley immediately east and north where the ramparts drop you down the hill, if only to get a decent idea of the scale of the thing! But those of you into taking it easy can do no better than take the country road south out of Poynings village (towards Brighton), down Saddlescombe Road, for just under a mile, where you should take a right-hand turn along the Summer Down lane for a mile. You’ll then hit the Devil’s Dyke Road. Turn right here and go to the end. You’re right in the middle of it!
Archaeology & History
Early plan of Devil’s Dyke ‘camp’
Although most of this huge monument hasn’t been given the investigation it deserves — hence making knowledge of its origins more speculative than factual — as Jacquetta Hawkes (1973) wrote, seemingly all those years ago now, “it is known that a village lying half in and round them was occupied in the Belgic period at the end of the Iron Age.” And it’s certainly big enough! The encircling circuit of dykes themselves stretch all the way round a distance of more than 2150 yards long (that’s 1.22 miles, or 1.97km!), with the longest east-west axis being more than half-a-mile across.
Nowadays it seems, the Devil’s Dyke is the name given to the steep valley below the encampment, but a hundred years back it was the camp itself that was known by this name. Described by the wandering antiquarian R. Hippisley Cox (1927) as “a camp containing forty acres (with) very steep and difficult approaches,” another early account in The Antiquaries Journal — commenting on a ground-plan of the site from the Brighton and Hove Herald of 1925 — told:
“The heavy encircling lines represent ramparts, and the thin line marks the outer margin of the accompanying ditch. A spur renders the earthwork weakest on the south-west, and the rampart is therefore highest between the points 1 and 3, rising 21ft vertically above the ditch, which is nearly filled up at the present time. On the north-west there is steep slope outside the camp, and the ramparts are considerably lower, the iner ditch being nearly obliterated. The outer rampart is now wanting betwen 7 and 8, but this inner one becomes stronger as the outer slope of the ground decreases, only to die away again on the south-east where the camp overlooks the steep Dyke Valley. A double-bank and inner ditch can still be traced from the north-east angle to a point near the old golf-club house.”
I first came here as a young lad and the site was lost on me (in them days, if monuments weren’t stiff and upright, I really didn’t see the point!). These days however, the size of it alone blows you away somewhat.
Folklore
As you’d expect the creation myths of this site and its edges relate to our old heathen friend, the devil! The landscape itself was, in old lore, the work of the devil (though prior to this, the devil was known in peasant-lore to be a legendary giant, though I am unaware of the name/s of the giant in question); and the great valley below the Devil’s Dyke encampment was actually dug out by Old Nick in the old tales. That old folklorist Jacqueline Simpson (1973) takes up the story:
“The Devil…had been infuriated by the conversion of Sussex, one of the last strongholds of paganism in England, and more particularly by the way the men of the Weald were building churches in all their villages. So he swore that he would dig right through the Downs in a single night, to let in the sea and drown them all. He started just near Poynings and dug and dug most furiously, sending great clods of earth flying left and right — one became Chanctonbury, another Cissbury, another Rackham Hill, and yet another Mount Caburn. Towards midnight, the noise he was making disturbed an old woman, who looked out to see what was going on. As soon as she understood what he was up to, she lit a candle and set it on her window-sill, holding up a sieve in front of it to make a dimly glowing globe. The Devil looked round, and thought this was the rising sun. At first he could hardly believe his eyes, but then he heard a cock crowing — for the old woman, just to make quite sure, had knocked her cockerel off his perch. So Satan flew away, leaving his work half done. Some say that as he went out over the Channel, a great dollop of earth fell from his cloven hoof, and that’s how the Isle of Wight was made; others, that he bounded straight over into Surry, where the impact of his landing formed the hollow known as his Punch Bowl.”
That’s the story anyway — take it or leave it! Of importance in this fable is the figure of the “old woman”: a much watered-down version of the cailleach figure of more ancient northern and Irish climes, where tales of her doings are still very much alive. And many are the tales of her battles with other giant figures, just as we evidently once had here.
Ghosts have been reported by local people upon this hill-top site; and there are a number of other folktales to be found here…which I’ll unfold over time as the months pass by…
References:
Anon., “Notes: The Brighton Dyke,” in The Antiquaries Journal, 5:4, October 1925.
Clinch, G., “Ancient Earthworks,” in Victoria County History of Sussex – volume 2 (edited by W. Page), St. Catherine’s Press: London 1905.
Cox, R. Hippisley, The Green Roads of England, Methuen: London 1927.
Hawkes, Jacquetta, A Guide to the Prehistoric and Roman Monuments in England and Wales, Chatto & Windus: London 1973.
Hogg, A.H.A., “Some Aspects of Surface Fieldwork,” in The Iron Age and its Hillforts (edited by M. Jesson & David Hill), Southampton University Archaeology Society 1971.
Simpson, Jacqueline, The Folklore of Sussex, Batsford: London 1973.
Simpson, Jacqueline, “Sussex Local Legends,” in Folklore Journal, volume 84, 1973.
On this “Isle of the Gods” — as some historians proclaim Gigha to mean — the ancient rites and ceremonies of local folk continued until pretty recent times. One writer narrated some intriguing pre-christian events connected to this curious and little-known place, speaking of indigenous heathen rites:
“These are in fact known to have persisted on the island until well into the early part of the (19th) century when Irish fishermen could still be seen climbing the little hill of Moinean Sitheil, in the sacred Moss of Peace below Ardminish, to pay homage to the “Old Ones” of Gigha: a pair of ancient legend-shrouded stones known as the Bodach and the Cailleach, that from time immemorial have stood upon a low green knoll below the farm of Achamore.
“Through the countless ages the strange jug-headed little Bodach and his smaller consort have kept steadfast vigil over Gigha: their mysterious aura said to guarantee its continuing fertility and prosperity as they link the thriving island of today with beliefs and traditions having roots in the earth-cults and sun-worship of primeval times. In the past folk would have honoured them with offerings of meal or milk and even now they still command considerable local affectation and respect, albeit expressed in less overtly pagan ways. And so they stand as ever upon their tiny hillock gazing out across tumbling terraces of old Cantereoch and beautiful Ardlamey Bay, inscrutable and silent, yet with a strangely ‘knowing’ air impossible to define.”
References:
Anonymous, Exploring Historic Kintyre and the Isle of Gigha, Harlequin Press: Oban n.d.
From Ford village, take the track that goes uphill (west) running near the edge of the forest-line. Keep going until you hit the top of the forest and the large rocky hill above you (on your right) is where you need to be heading. The rise to your left is Dun Chonallaich. Walk around the bottom of the hill until you get to the other side (you should be 100 yards or more above the tree-line) where you’ll notice a ‘pass’ running west, with a rocky knoll above you on your right. That’s it!
Archaeology & History
Thought to date from the Iron Age, the remains here cover an area 15 yards by about 25 yards. Remains of walling around the edge of the summit nearly a yard wide in places define quite clearly where the ‘fort’ was centred. The entrance to the site was found on the northwestern side. In more recent times however, animal pens have intruded on the remains here and the archaeological remnants are much denuded.
Folklore
Samhain fires were lit on the larger ridge above this ruined fort until recent years, as some old local folk will tell you. These Halloween fires (done to celebrate the old New Year) were stopped a short time after the new ‘owner’ of the Auchinellan Estate (on whose land Dun Dubh is found) took exception to them and, for all intent and purpose, deemed them a fire hazard! The lady in question who inherited the Estate was in fact a devout christian who took exception to the local “pagan” goings-on, contrary to the beliefs of the previous Estate owner, who not only allowed such old events, but played a part in them. Local folk hereabouts, not surprisingly, aint too keen on their part-time dictatorial christian neighbour.
The fires up here were also related to the linear cemetery at Kilmartin. Here the giant tombs all line up & point to Dun Chonallaich, behind which hides the more flattened top of Dun Dubh. When the Halloween fires were lit on top of this, the glow from behind the great pyramid of Chonallaich all the way down to Valley of the Kings, was spectacular! One wonders just how long the local people had been doing this…
References:
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments, Scotland, Argyll – volume 6, HMSO: Edinburgh 1988.
Pretty easy really. Get to the ancient St. Michael’s Church on the dead-end road just outside of Linton village. As you approach it, look into the field on your right. Y’ can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
Linton ‘Standing Stone’
This is an oddity. It could perhaps be little more than one of the Norber erratics found a few miles further north — but it looks more like a smaller version of one of the Avebury sarsens! Just under six-feet tall, it was shown to me by Adrian Lord yesterday (when the heavens subsequently opened and an outstanding downpour-and-half followed), who’d come across it only a week or two earlier themselves when they visited the ancient church next door. The stone certainly aint in any archaeology registers (no surprise there); and as one local man we spoke to yesterday told us, “there used to be several other standing stones in the same field, cos I remember ’em when I was a kid. ” The gent we spoke to seemed to know just about everything about the local archaeology and history of the area (one of those “damn good locals” you’re sometimes lucky to find!). He told us that the other stones which used to be there had been moved by the local farmer over the years, for use in his walls. So it seems that this is the last one standing. What looks like several other fallen stones can be seen further down the field, just next to the church. But this one’s pretty impressive.
Close-up of gnarled rockLooking south-ish!
The church of St. Michael next door was, tells the information inside, built upon some old pagan site — which gives added thought to this upright stone perhaps being the ruin of an old circle, or summat along those lines. The church, incidentally, is built right next to the River Wharfe.
Not far from here we find an almost inexhaustible supply of prehistoric remains at Grassington and district (less than a mile north). A huge excess of Bronze- and Iron Age remains scatter the fields all round the town. And aswell as the Yarnbury henge close by, there is — our local man told us, “another one which no-one knows abaat, not far away”!
Folklore
The folklore of this area is prodigious! There is faerie-lore, underworld tales, healing wells, black-dogs, ghosts, earthlights – tons of the damn stuff. But with such a mass of prehistoric remains, that aint too surprising. And although there appears no direct reference to this particular stone (cos I can’t find a damn reference about it), the old Yorkshire history magus, Harry Speight (1900), wrote of something a short distance away along the lane from the church. He told that,
“In the field-wall beside the road may be seen some huge glacial boulders, and there is one very large one standing alone in the adjoining field, which from one point of view bears a striking resemblance to a human visage; and a notion prevails among the young folk of the neighbourhood that this stone will fall on its face when it hears the cock crow.”
Just the sort of lore we find attached to some other standing stones in certain parts of the country. And in fact, from some angles, this ‘ere stone has the simulacrum of a face upon it; so this could be the one Speight mentions (though his directions would be, unusually, a little out).
There are heathen oddities about the church aswell: distinctly pre-christian ones. An old “posset-pot” was used for local families to drink from after the celebration of a birth, wedding or funeral here. And at Hallowtide – the old heathen New Year’s Day,
“certain herbs possessed the power of enabling those who were inclined to see their future husbands or wives, or even recognizing who was to die in the near future.”
And in an invocation of the great heathen god (the Church called it the devil), Speight also went on to tell that:
“The practice at Linton was to walk seven times round the church when the doomed one would appear.”
In a watered down version of this, local people found guilty of minor transgressions in and around Linton (thieves, fighters, piss-heads, etc),
“was compelled to seek expiation by walking three time around Linton Church.”
This would allegedly cure them of their ‘sins’! Rush-bearing ceremonies were also enacted here. On the hill above, the faerie-folk lived. And until recently, time itself was still being measured by the three stages of the day: sunrise, midday and sunset; avoiding the modern contrivances of the clock, and maintaining the old pre-christian tradition of time-keeping. Much more remains hidden…
References:
Speight, Harry, Upper Wharfedale, Elliott Stock: London 1900.
Various ways to get here, but the 2 most common are: (1) from Brunthwaite village, above Silsden, following the road uphill for a mile, then turning right (west) onto the moorland dirt-track to Doubler Stones Farm. Just before here there’s a footpath uphill (north) for 200 yards to the stones. (2) follow the Millenium Way footpath south up Addingham Moorside, onto Addingham High Moor. Keep going on the same path another 500 yards and they’ll appear ahead of you.
Archaeology & History
First described as the ‘Doublestones’ in the local Addingham parish records of 1786, these great mushroom-shaped rocks were later brought to the attention of archaeologists by J. Romilly Allen in 1879 and they greatly intrigued numerous Victorian antiquarians, who puzzled as much about their exotic forms as the cup-marks on their tops! Allen wrote of them:
“These rocks are by far the most remarkable freaks of Nature to be seen in the district. They occupy a prominent position, perched on the extremity of a rocky knoll which juts out into the valley; and as seen from below, with their weird forms standing out clear and sharp against the background of blue sky, they present so extraordinary an appearance that they would at once attract the attention of even the most unobservant. In general outline they resemble gigantic toadstools; and I presume that they are called Doubler Stones from the fact of their shapes being almost identical. They may be appropriately described as Nature’s Twins. The upper surface of the cap of one of these stones has three large basin-shaped cavities in it. Two of these lie along the central axis of the stone, and measure respectively 1ft 3in by 2ft 9in deep, and 1ft 9in by 1ft 3in by 9in deep. They are united by a deep groove, a continuation of which runs out over the edge of the stone at each end. There is another basin lying to the west side of the two central ones, with one of which it is connected by grooves. It measures 2ft by 1ft 9in and is 9in deep. There is no direct evidence that these basins are artificial; but it is quite possible that they may have been so originally, and have been enlarged by natural agencies. But in addition to the basins, are twenty-six cup-markings of distinctly artificial origin. They vary in diameter from 2 to 4 in. One group of cups appears to be arranged in parallel rows.”
Cup-marks on one of the Doublers (after Hedges 1986)Cowling’s 1946 drawing
Although the writer thought there were no artificial cup-markings on the other Doubler Stone (the one on the left in the photo), John Hedges (1986) and Boughey & Vickerman (2003) cite there to be at least two cup-markings on this rock. Other writers have given different numbers for the respective cup-marks thought to be on these rocks down the years.
If you’re into prehistoric rock-art, check this place out. If you’re a geologist and aint been here, you’ll be even more impressed!
Folklore
Approaching the Doublers (photo – James Elkington)
In Nicholas Size’s Haunted Moor (1934) he described the Doubler Stones as being the abode of ghosts and a place of sacrificial rites in ancient days. While in Guy Ragland Phillips’ Brigantia, we find that the word ‘doubler’ itself “is a large shallow dish, bowl or plate” – which we find on top of the greater one of these two well-worn-weirdoes. As well as being haunted, there is some other little-known, though not unexpected folklore here, which told these old stones to be the meeting place of witches in previous centuries.
In addition to this, we are told that the witches of Fewston valley to the west used to meet up with the more famous Pendle witches at these stones. One historian proclaimed that this notion was spurious, as it would be too far for the Pendle witches to walk – which says more about the historian in question than the people of previous centuries. The distance from Pendle to the Doublers can be traversed in a day and is an ideal meeting spot, away from the prying eyes of a wrathful Church, that sought war against the animistic practices of our ancestors.
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, ‘The Prehistoric Rock Sculptures of Ilkley,’ in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, volume 35, 1879.
Allen, J. Romilly, ‘Notice of Sculptured Rocks near Ilkley,’ ibid, volume 38, 1882.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Boughey & Vickerman, Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, West Yorkshire Archaeology Service 2003.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Hedges, John, The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Jennings, Hargrave, Archaic Rock Inscriptions, A. Reader: London 1891.
Phillips, Guy Ragland, Brigantia: A Mysteriography, RKP: London 1976.
Size, Nicholas, The Haunted Moor, William Walker: Otley 1934.
