From the old cross in the middle of the village, walk along the A820 Balkerach Street main road (NOT down George Street) until you reach Station Wynd on your right. Walk up here for 100 yards towards the new housing estate (don’t buy these places – they’re dreadful quality beneath the veneers) and there, on a small grassy rise on the left just before the car park, stands our stone!
Archaeology & History
This little-known monolith on the northern edge of little Doune village, was recently moved a short distance from its original position thanks to another one of those sad Barratt housing estates being built here; but at least it has received protection with the surrounding fence and notice board telling its brief history and folklore (better than being destroyed I s’ppose).
Stone marked on 1866 OS map
Standing less than five feet tall, local lore tells that it has been moved around close to this spot several times in the last couple of centuries. Although not mentioned in Hutchinson’s (1893) essay on local megaliths, the stone was highlighted on the 1866 Ordnance Survey of Doune, where the non-antiquated lettering showed how it was thought to be Roman in origin, not prehistoric.
Folklore
Trysting Stane, looking NE
The name of the stone comes from it being used as a place where deeds were sworn, with the stone as witness to the words proclaimed by both parties (implying a living presence, or animistic formula of great age). This activity was continued in the local ‘trysts’ or cattle fairs held a mile away, where buyers swore the sale of cattle at this stone—again with the stone being ‘witness’ to the spoken deals. It was also used as a counter where gold was exchanged for cattle bought and sold during the Michaelmas and Martinmas Fairs. Sue Harvey (2006) told that this standing stone,
“was called the Devil’s Head and was used during past Doune fairs to count gold on when cattle were being bought and sold.”
In local newspaper accounts from the 1950s, local historian Moray S. Mackay (1984) told how the children of the village used to gather round the stone, holding hands, and sing,
Olie Olie, peep, peep, peep,
Here’s the man with the cloven feet,
Here’s his head, but where’s his feet?
Olie Olie, peep, peep, peep.
Notice board telling its tale…Looking at the stone on its rise
This implies the stone once possessed a myth relating to a petrified ancestral deity of animistic (pre-christian) origin, but as yet we have found no additional information allowing us a confirmation of this probability. A correlate of this theme—i.e., of the stone being the head of a deity—is found in West Yorkshire (amongst many other places), where one of the little known Cuckoo Stones was once known to be a local giant until a hero-figure appeared and cut off his head, leaving only his body which was then turned to stone. Mircea Eliade (1958; 1963) cites examples of animistic religious rites and events explaining this early petrification formula via creation myths, etc. (we find very clear evidences of animistic worldviews and practices still prevailing in the mountains just a few miles north and west, still enacted by local people)
Folklore also alleged that the stone was Roman in nature, but neither archaeology nor the architectural form of the stone implies this. Roman stones were cut and dressed—unlike the traditional looking Bronze Age, rough, uncut fella standing here.
References:
Eliade, Mircea, Patterns in Comparative Religion, Sheed & Ward: London 1958.
Eliade, Mircea, Myth and Reality, Harper & Row: San Francisco 1963.
Harvey, Sue, Doune and Deanston, Kilmadock Development Centre 2006.
Hutchinson, A.F., “The Standing Stones of Stirling District,” in The Stirling Antiquary, volume 1, 1893.
Along the B880 glen road that cuts Arran roughly in half, known as The String, could once be seen a stone circle that one early writer told was quite impressive. Today It seems that all trace of the circle has gone. The earliest mention of it seems to be in James Headrick’s (1807) work, where, in discussing what he thought were “Druidical” remains of obelisks and cairns in the area,
“A more entire circle of this sort is seen on the rising ground at the mouth of Glen Shirreg, towards the west.”
But he tells us no more. Shortly afterwards—according to reverend Allan McNaughton in the New Statistical Account of the 1830s—it was destroyed. He said that,
“about twenty-four years ago, a very complete circle at the mouth of Glensheraig was removed, in clearing the field in which it stood for the operations of the plough.”
Despite this short remark, eighty years later we had J.A. Balfour (1910) inform us that,
“On the right of the String Road going west in Glen Sherraig is a small ruined monument of which three small standing stones alone remain, so disposed as to suggest that the original structure was a double circle.”
However, Balfour’s site may be an altogether different one to that mentioned by Headrick and McNaughton.
Aubrey Burl (2000) lists it in his major work; but its ancient life was, once again, brought to end in these recent years by those of less sound minds than our ancestors.
References:
Balfour, J.A., The Book of Arran – volume 1, Arran Society of Glasgow 1910.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Headrick, James, View of the Mineralogy, Agriculture, Manufactures and Fisheries of the Islland of Arran, with Notices of Antiquities, D. Willison: Edinburgh 1807.
The stone circle of Fingal’s Cauldron Seat, Machrie Moor, Arran (photo by Aisha Domleo)
By whichever way you come (be it from Brodick on the east, Lochranza to the north) ask any local the way to Machrie and they’ll point you the road onto the west side of the island, roughly halfway. You’re after the hamlets of Blackwaterfoot or Auchagallon. From either of these spots, take the road to Tormore. From here, the dirt-track east close to the Machrie Water is where you need to walk. About a mile along this well-defined track you’ll see the large barn ahead of you. Hereabouts you’ll begin to notice some very tall standing stones. Keep walking on the track, and the first double-ring of smaller stones to your right is the place yer after!
Archaeology & History
Approaching the ring (photo by Aisha Domleo)
This is one well-preserved stone circle in a superb setting with other large megalithic rings all close by—at least 12 of them!—set upon the flat open moorlands on the west side of Arran, with views in all directions sending the enquiring nose tasting for more wherever the eyes gaze…. It has been written about by many many writers over the last few centuries—which aint surprising! But it was in recent times that the place was said by Aubrey Burl (1981) to be “holy ground,” because although there are many prehistoric settlement sites and other remains scattered across this landscape,
“it is noticeable that the dozens of huts whose ruins litter the moor were built well away to the west, none of them near these powerful and lonely stones.”
1832 sketch of Fingal’s Cauldron by James Skene
It’s a fair point.
Fingal’s Cauldron was first defined in an archaeological context by James Bryce in 1863, who named it the ‘Machrie Moor 5’ stone circle (MM5)—and it was he and several others who dug into the ring, to see what it might be hiding!
“Excavating at the centre we found a small cist at less than a foot in depth, and lying about north-east. It was covered by a small lid, and the dimensions were 2 feet 2 inches in length, 10½ inches in depth, and 11 inches in width. Inside there were several bone fragments and black earth. A flint implement was found in the stony soil above, and three other flint fragments, but nothing of this kind in the cist itself. This was of much ruder structure than any we had seen before (Ed. – i.e., in the other Machrie circles); it was cut out of the sold sandstone rock, but with little care or exactness; the sides however, were nearly perpendicular. The difficulty of excavating without iron tools may account for the smaller size and ruder form of this cist. No other cist was found, nor remains of any kind, though a trial was made at several points around the centre. A deep opening was also made on both sides of the upright stone, but nothing was met with worthy of being recorded.”
A.E. Roy’s 1967 site-plan
Described thereafter a number of times by different historians and antiquarians, Fingal’s Cauldron (and its associates) was then recounted in the Machrie Moor survey of Mr Balfour (1910) in his magnum opus on the Isle of Arran. Although he gave more attention to the other stone circles in this multiple megalithic complex, he did thankfully make note that,
“upon higher ground free of peat, and immediately to the south of the farmhouse, is the celebrated double circle of granite blocks known popularly as Fingal’s Cauldron Seat. The inner ring consists of eight and the outer of fourteen blocks. The diameter of the inner circle is 36 feet and of the outer 57 feet. The largest stones are in the inner series; they are more or less round-topped blocks, about 4 feet high. One of the stones of the outer ring has a ledge which is perforated by a round hole, with the edges worn smooth.
“In the centre of the inner ring, only a foot from the surface, a ruined cist was laid bare. It had been previously disturbed, and was represented by two stones only, lying parallel to one another. There was no capstone, and no relics were discovered.”
More recently in the 1960s, another survey of Fingal’s Cauldron was undertaken by A.E. Roy and other archaeologists. They found nothing new of any value, but gave us the ground-plan we see here (sadly it seems that Alexander Thom didn’t bless this site with his theodolite and survey). Aubrey Burl re-examined the site again during his own survey in the 1980s.
An elemental called Lara sat seated on one of the uprights! (photo by Aisha Domleo)Small section of inner & outer rings (photo by Aisha Domleo)
There are other curious features to this ring that aint generally talked about amongst the archaeo-fraternity, out of fear of sounding inspiring perhaps… In the 1980s, a chap called Paul Devereux and a number of physicists organized volunteers from across the country to monitor electromagnetic anomalies at many megalithic rings, in order to explore the validity, or otherwise, of the idea that there were ‘energies’ at stone circles. The study was called The Dragon Project and went on for many years. The Machrie Moor complex was one of the places where examinations of electromagnetic fields were undertaken—Fingal’s Cauldron being one of them. Devereux (1990) tells us a small part of the story:
“In May 1983 Dave and Lynn Patrick monitored several of the Machrie Moor circles, including MM5, with a geiger counter for the Gaia Programme. They also took background control readings and monitored a non-megalithic ‘dummy site’ for comparisons.
“Five of the circles…gave average site readings 2 to 13 per cent higher than background, but MM5 gave a site average of 33 per cent above background. A non-megalithic ‘dummy site’ was 5 per cent above background. The Patricks had taken 20 readings within MM5—one hour of monitoring time—plotted onto the ground-plan. There was no mystery about why the site gave a higher average than anywhere else, and a third higher than background—the stones are radioactive granite, and there are 23 of them. But one stone, the tallest, and the most westerly of the upright stones in the inner ring, is particularly energetic, giving readings 16 per cent above the next most radioactive stone in the double ring, and more than that for the other 58 stones monitored in the Patrick’s study on Machrie Moor.
“I took measurements at the site myself in April 1988, using new equipment, and confirmed that the MM5 stone did indeed give a moderately high naturally radiation count (about 33 per cent above normal).”
This rather hot “Cauldron of Finn” certainly does throw off more heat than its compatriots nearby, as scientific analysis has shown! It turned out to be the type of stone which our ancestors used in constructing the site. Fascinating…
Folklore
1861 drawing of the site
Although this is one of the smallest of the megalithic rings on the moor, it’s the one that has the main legend. In line with its folk-title, twas said to have been the place where the Irish giant and hero-figure, Finn, “assigning to the encircling stones the purpose of supporting the cauldron of the giant,” with the inner ring being where it was placed and he cooked. Finn also used another part of the circle, as James Bryce (1863) said:
“A block on the southeast side of the outer circle has a ledge perforated by a round hole, which is well worn on the edges, and said to have been formed for the purpose of fastening the favourite dog Bran.”
Shortly after this, John McArthur (1873) wrote his work on the ancient remains of the island, giving additional elements to the myths of this ring; firstly telling that the perforated hole which Bran was tied to,
“was probably associated with some old superstition or religious ceremony, now forgotten. The hole is sufficiently large to admit the two fingers, and runs perpendicularly through the side of the column…
“The perforated column of “Fiongal’s Cauldron Seat,” on the Mauchrie Moor, was believed to contain a fairy or brownie, who could only be propitiated by the pouring of milk through the hole bored in the side of the stone.”
The animistic tradition of pouring milk into stones is more usually found at bullauns and some cup-and-ring carvings, so we need to look closely in good weather conditions at the uprights in the circle just to make sure we aint missed anything here… Carvings are found on some of the other Machrie stones.
Regarding the small hole through the stone which Bran was tied to, Gareth Weston (2007), in his otherwise terrible book, tells that,
“The middle of the perforated stone and the geometric centre (of the ring) are in line with the sharp summit of Goat Fell, Arran’s loftiest peak and the highest point in southeast Scotland.”
Geomancy anyone…?
Forteana
Over the years I have slept at many prehistoric sites in Britain—stone circles, chambered tombs and cup-and-ring stones all—hundreds of times, in all weathers. Sadly in recent years I’ve been neglecting this duty. However, during the winter of 1986 I spent a few nights in the snow on the Machrie plain, between this circle and the taller uprights a short distance away. On one dark freezing February night, shortly before we hit the sack,
“a bright orange glow was seen on the summit of the mountain (Ard Bheinn), three miles away. A second or two later a ball of light rose up from the snow-clad hills and into the clouds, a hundred feet above. A few minutes later we saw the same ball of light again; on both occasions the ball of light was visible for two seconds at the most.”
Several times when sleeping rough at Machrie I got talking with an old farmer who had grown up round here. He told that he’d “seen strange lights around the moors a few times” down the years. With the moorland scent and feel of the place round here, that surprises me not one bit!
McArthur, John, The Antiquities of Arran, Adam & Charles Black: Edinburgh 1873 (2nd edition).
MacLellan, Robert, The Ancient Monuments of Arran, HMSO: Edinburgh 1989.
Roy, A.E., “A New Survey of the Tormore Circles,” in Transactions of the Glasgow Archaeological Society, 51, 1963.
Weston, Garth, Monuments and Mountains, Ashridge Press: Bakewell 2007.
Acknowledgements: HUGE thanks to Aisha Domleo—and Her brilliant clan!—not only for kicking my arse to write this up, but for the photos of the site too! More to come.
Follow the same directions as if you’re looking for the Doo’cot Woods carving; but, in the field that you have to cross before entering the trees, about 50 yards down from the top of the field, a geological ridge of stone runs along into the trees themselves. The carving is along this ridge in the field. Walk along and you’ll find it! (the grid-reference for this carving is slightly off-centre and needs correcting)
Archaeology & History
Cup-marks from above
Not described in earlier surveys, this is one of two cup-marked stones close to each other along this long ridge of stone reaching across the field. The carving has three distinct cups, as shown in the photos, and another two more faded ones. No other features seemed visible when we were here. We must, however, be careful with this and other ‘cup-markings’ in the area, as a lot of the stone is conglomerate and nodules of differing forms of rock (visible on nearby stones) fall away, leaving cup-like impressions where the softer stone erodes. Some of the cup-markings listed in John Sherriff’s (1995) survey of this region seem to be purely geological in nature and not man-made. Several more visits are needed here so we can ascertain the valid carvings from the geological features.
A tricky venture, best approached along the B9113 eastwards out of Forfar, towards Rescobie Loch. Just a coupla hundred yards past the lochside, go up the track that leads you to the farmhouse called West Mains of Turin, below Turin Hill on the left-hand side of the road (north). Go up through and past the farm, up the track until you hit the gate that takes where the old quarries appear. Looking right, a copse of woods appears. Go into it and about two-thirds way up, a slight rise marks a long ridge of rock cutting across the woodland. The carving is near the very eastern end of this ridge at the far side of the trees. Good luck!
Archaeology & History
Cup-markings, faintly visible
Not included in John Sherriff’s (1995) survey of Angus petroglyphs, this “carving”, like many in his survey, may be deemed slightly debatable and require the attention of qualified geologists to ascertain the veracity, or otherwise, of a number of supposed cup-marked stones that he describes. This one, found in the woodland beneath the undergrowth of years of pine needles and such things (hence the poor quality photos), has between 9 and 11 cup-markings etched on the southern sides of a large earthfast stone found in the woodland. There may be more cups on this rock, beneath the compressed vegetation, but we didn’t spend too much time here to find out (bad boys that we are!).
The easiest way to find this is by going along the B9113 road that runs from the east side of Forfar, out to Montreathmont Forest. Along this road, pass the Rescobie Loch and keep going for another mile or so, until you hit the small crossroads. Go left here as if you’re going to Aberlemno. Barely 100 yards up, opposite the newly-built Westerton house, the standing stone is on the rise in the field.
Archaeology & History
The carved west-facing side
A truly fascinating heathen stone in a parish full of Pictish and early christian remains, with the faint remains of an intriguing carving that can still, thankfully, be discerned on the southwestern face of the upright….amongst other things…
Marked as a singular stone after the Ordnance Survey lads visited here in 1901, early mentions of the site are very scant indeed. In Sir James Simpson’s (1866; 1867) early masterpiece on prehistoric rock art, in which he named the place as the “Circle of Turin,” he related how his friend and associate Dr Wyse told him how this stone “once formed one of a fine circle of boulder stones at Nether Turin,” but said little more. (Simpson was the vice president of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, a professor of medicine, as well as being one of Queen Victoria’s chief physicians.) The “Dr Wyse” in question was very probably Thomas Alexander Wise, M.D., who wrote the little-known but informative and extravagent analysis of prehistoric sites and their folklore in Scotland called A History of Paganism in Caledonia (1884). Therein he told us:
“At Turin, in Forfarshire, there is a large boulder which had formed one of the stones in a circle. On the flat top are several cups arranged irregularly, and without any enclosing circles. This boulder stone is on the NW face of the circle. The other side was towards the SE, facing the rising sun.”
As a result of these early references the site is listed and documented, correctly, as a “stone circle” in Aubrey Burl’s (2000) magnum opus. We do not have the information to hand about who was responsible for the circle’s desctruction—but it was likely done by the usual self-righteous industrialists or christians. It is a puzzle therefore, why Barclay & Halliday (1982) sought to reject an earlier “megalithic ring” status as mentioned by Sir James and Dr Wise, with little more than a flippant dismissal in their short note on the Westerton stone. Unless those two writers can offer vital evidence that can prove that the Westerton standing stone was not part of a megalithic ring, we can of course safely dismiss their unsubstantiated claim.
Despite this however, they do give us an intriguing description of a curious carving, faintly visible, of an upright male figure etched onto the west side of this standing stone. The carving has unfortunately been damaged—probably by intruding christians or puritans of some sad form. You’ll see why I’m blaming them in a minute! In their short account of the carving, Barclay & Halliday (1982) state:
“Much of the original surface of the SW face of the stone has scaled off, but, on the surviving portion, there is a part of a human figure…apparently naked, outlined by grooves, measuring between 5mm and 15mm in breadth and up to 7mm in depth. Of the head, only the lower part of the jaw and neck can be identified, and a second groove at the back of the neck probably represents hair or some form of head-covering. The left arm passes across the body into the lap and the arch of the back is shown by a groove which detaches itself from the upper part of the arm. The left leg is bent at the knee and is lost below mid-calf; from mid-calf to jaw is a distance of some 0.85m”
In interpreting this carving the authors make a shallow, if not poor attempt to describe what he may be doing, saying:
“The figure is viewed from its left side and is turned slightly towards the observer. The position of the left arm and leg may be compared with those of a fighting figure depicted on the Shandwick Stone, Easter Ross…but they may also reflect a riding posture; no trace of a mount, however, has survived.”
Damaged carving of a man doing summat with his cock!
Well – that is intriguing. But we have to recognise that our authors work for the Royal Commission, which may have effected their eyes and certainly their minds—as everyone else sees something not drawn out of Rorscharch’s famous psychology test! When I put the drawing you can see here (left) onto various internet archaeology group pages (including the Prehistoric Society, etc) the response was virtually unanimous, with some comical variants on what the carved man is doing — i.e., masturbating, or at least committing some sort of sexual act, possibly with another creature where the rock has been hacked away by the vandals. But a sexual act it is! Although such designs are rare in Britain, they are found in prehistoric rock art and later architectural carvings in most cultures on Earth. The nearest and most extravagant examples of such sexual acts can be found in the Scandinavian countries, where fertility images are profuse, often in tandem with typical prehistoric cup-and-ring designs. (see Coles 2005; Gelling & Davidson 1969, etc)
Line of cup-marks on top of stone
…And, on the very top of the stone, running along its near-horizontal surface, a line of six cup-markings are clearly visible. Intrusions of natural geophysical scars are also there, but the cup-marks are quite distinct from Nature’s wear, all on the west side of the natural cut running along the top. These cup-marks were first mentioned in Simpson’s (1866; 1867) early tome, where he told how his “esteemed friend Dr Wyse discovered ‘several carefully excavated cavities upon its top in groups, without circles.'” Whether these neolithic to Bronze Age elements had any association with the later Pictish-style wanking fella (fertility?) is impossible to know, sadly…
References:
Barclay, G.J. & Halliday, S.P., “A Rock Carving from Westerton, Angus District,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 112, 1982.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Coles, John, Shadows of a Northern Past, Oxbow: Oxford 2005.
Gelling, Peter & Davidson, Hilda Ellis, The Chariot of the Sun and other Rites and Symbols of the Northern Bronze Age, J.M. Dent: London 1969.
Sherriff, John R., “Prehistoric Rock Carvings in Angus,” in Tayside & Fife Archaeological Journal, volume 1, 1995.
Simpson, James, Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles, etc., Upon Stones and Rocks in Scotland, England and other Countries, Edmonston & Douglas: Edinburgh 1867.
Wise, Thomas A., History of Paganism in Caledonia, Trubner: London 1884.
Not to be confused with the sacred well of the same name found along Gallowgate a short distance to the south, the waters of this ancient well have sadly fallen back to Earth. The structure built above it, however, is thankfully still preserved inside the Cathedral, as visitors will see.
Folklore and history accounts tell its dedication to be very early – and the tale behind the erection of the cathedral is closely associated with the waters themselves. Indeed, if the folklore is accepted, we find merely a transference of early animistic ideas about the death of an ancestor placed onto this early Saint, with a simple association in the formula of: tomb, holy site and architectural form. It could almost be Bronze Age in nature!
The lengthiest (and best) description of St Mungo’s Well was by Mr Brotchie (1920) in a lecture he gave on the city’s holy wells in April 1920, which was thankfully transcribed by the local history society. He told us:
“It seems to me that Glasgow in a very particular degree is a case that illustrates emphatically the existence of the early cult of the sacred fountain (sketch attached)… How came it to be there? In itself it represents the very beginning of Glasgow. It was to the little spring on the hillside overlooking the Molendinar that there came the earliest of christian missionaries, Ninian. All that we know of Ninian is from the account of Jocelin, the monk of Furness, who tells us that “ane holy man Ninian cam to Gleschu or Glasgow in the third century”, and made his cell on the banks of the Molendinar. When Kentigern or Mungo came to Glasgow in the sixth century, he made his settlement near a certain cemetery, which had long before been consecrated by St. Ninian, and which at the time when Jocelin wrote (twelfth century), was “encircled by a delicious density of overshadowing trees.” The crypt of the Cathedral—in reality an under church of extraordinary beauty of design and magnificence of mason work—is the shrine of St. Mungo, who is buried there, and the whole design of the lower church shows that the architect who in 1230 planned the building…built his scheme up with the idea of providing a shrine for the saint’s tomb and his holy well.
“The well is in the lower eastern corner of the church just opposite to the chapter house. John Hardying, the chronicler, who visited Scotland in 1413, states that St. Mungo’s shrine was then the centre of the life of Glasgow. In 1475 James III, on account of his great devotion to St. Kentigern, granted three stones of wax yearly for the lights at the tomb of the saint in the cathedral, near his holy well.
“St. Mungo adopted this well from the pagans of the district and changed its purpose from evil to good. Beside it he erected in 560 his little wattle hut where he died. He was buried inside it, and when the great cathedral was built the holy well was included within its walls…
“St. Mungo’s Well was a place of pilgrimage to the early christian fathers, and we find it described as “an idolatrous well” in 1614. In 1579 we have a public statute prohibiting pilgrimages to wells, and in 1629 the Privy Council denounced these pilgrimages in the strongest terms, it being declared that for the purpose of “restraining the superstitious resort of pilgrimage to chapels and wells, which is so frequent and common in this kingdom, to the great offence of God, scandall of the kirk, and disgrace of his majesties government,” that commissioners cause diligent search in “all such pairts and places where this idolatrous superstition is used, and to take and apprehend all such persons of whatever rank and qualitie whom thay sall apprehend going on pilgrimage to chapels and wells.” That decree was issued under the Dora of 1629. But all in vain. The custom of visiting chapels and wells had become a habit – and habits, as we all know, though easily formed are difficult to break. The wells continued to be visited by stealth if need be.”
As you go along the road between Lochearnhead and Crianlarich, about 200 yards before reaching the turning to Killin, stop at the Mid Lix dirt-track. Cross the road and walk back uphill for about 75 yards, then walk into the denuded remains of the forest. There are several notable rocks peeking up from the wood, one of which has many well-formed cup-markings on, about 25 yards from the roadside. If you look around here, you’ll find it.
Archaeology & History
Mr Cash’s 1912 drawing
This seemingly isolated petroglyph, still in a very good state of preservation, was first reported in the 19th century by a Mr Haggart (1883), who described it in a letter to the late great J. Romilly Allen. He wrote:
“I have also, since you last wrote to me, discovered another cup-marked stone at the farm of Mid Lix, near Killin. It is a very good specimen, with between sixteen and twenty marks, well cut and distinct. I was passing the farm three weeks ago, and I thought, from the name Lix — which is a Gaelic word corrupted from Lie, the plural of Leac, a tomb-stone or flagstone — that it was very likely to have stones with marks, and I asked John Little, farmer, to keep a look out for such. He did so, and found the one mentioned within twenty yards or so of the road leading to Killin Railway Station, and between the farm and the roadway, due west of the farm-house.”
Subsequently, thirty years later Mr Cash (1912) visited and described the petroglyph in more detail in his survey of sites around Killin. He told that,
“In 1882 or 1883 this was reported to Mr Allen by Mr Haggart; it was shown to me by Mr Haggart. It lies about 100 yards south of the railway, and 20 yards east of the Glen Ogle road. It is a low triangular pyramid; the cups are on the west face, which lies at an angle of about 35°, and measures 5 feet across its base, and just over 3 feet along its median line. It carries twenty-one cups, as shown in the figure. One cup has round it a ring 6½ inches in diameter. The cups vary in diameter from 2¼ to 3 inches, and in depth from ¼ to ¾ inch. In his paper on “Cup-marked Stones near Aberfeldy,” read in 1884, Dr Macmillan said that he did not know a single example of a concentric ring round a cup on the stones found on the shores of Loch Tay or in Glendochart or Glen Lochay.”
Cluster of cups, close up
When we visited the site earlier, the grey clouds prevented us getting good images of the carving and made visibility of the design more troublesome (typical rock art dilemma!); but we counted a minimum of 23 cup-marks on the stone. There is a small cluster of small rounded stones around the west and north-western base of the stone, but whether these are collected rubble or the denuded remains of a cairn could not be discerned upon our visit.
Morris, Ronald W.B., The Prehistoric Rock Art of Southern Scotland, BAR 86: Oxford 1981.
Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland, The Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Stirling District, Central Region, HMSO: Edinburgh 1979.
Along the A84 road between Doune and Callander, take the tiny country lane up to your right to Drumloist (if you’re coming from Doune) or up the tiny unmarked road past Keltie Bridge on your left (if you’re coming from Callander). Uphill for several miles, you eventually emerge from the trees and are on the top of the tiny road. Once here, keep your eyes peeled for Drumloist farm. Best thing to do is walk up the track and ask at the farm. The fella there is a superb old Highlander who’ll point you to the place on the hill above.
Archaeology & History
A site that was never explored by that giant of chambered tomb research, Audrey Henshall. A pity, as it has a lot of potential and seems to have a lot more to say about itself than the meagre findings reported by the Scottish Royal Commission doods.
Curious fairy mound to rearOne of two main chambers
Although there’s a very notable “fairy hill” eminence close by which strongly draws your attention, the actual hillock upon which this chambered tomb was constructed is in front of this, closer to the farm. A couple of rows of ancient walling—Iron Age by the look o’things—run up the hillside, with one of them running into the eastern sides of the huge mound which this tomb plays a part in. The mound itself is about a hundred feet across, although seems to have been damaged over the centuries. Although it is probably neolithic in origin, sections of the monument seem to have been altered and re-used for other purposes, giving it that distinctly multi-period look.
The farmer informed us how some of the stones from the mound had been robbed and used in some of the walling in the past. He also told us how there are so many other archaeological features upon the moors above here that remain to be “officially” recorded, despite the efforts of some who swept the region for remains a few decades ago.
Looking down into the main cist
The main prehistoric section of the tomb that can be seen are the two opened cists, or stone-lined graves, to the top north-western edges of the mound. They align together, NE to SW, with a gap of about three yards between the two open tombs. The more northerly of the two is much more overgrown; whilst the southwestern grave comprises of three large flat upright stones, forming a traditional ‘box’ with smaller flat stones lining the floor. But these two separate tombs (if indeed they were originally separated) point directly to the large, very prominent “fairy mound” about 100 yards northeast, on the north side of the Drumloist Burn. The alignment seems very deliberate.
Cup-and-partial-ring to right centre
Walking over the boggy ground to the (unnamed) fairy mound, a natural ‘platform’ of rocks sticks out on its southeasterly side, and upon this are two large cup-markings, with the more easterly one of the two seeming to have a carved arc along its edge. Looking from this mound, back across to the Ballachraggan tomb, the open flat landscape heading southwest is held where the sunset falls. Sadly on the day we visited, Nature greeted us with grey cloud and the drizzle of light rain all afternoon, so we couldn’t make out if there was something, far away, which the tomb was truly aligned with… A damn good site though!
Whilst I’m in Glasgow (big thanks to Aisha!) I thought I’d check out any remaining heathen sites that might still be visible. Many have perished of course, beneath the weight of religious industrialism—this one included. Even when the Ordnance Survey lads came here in 1858, it had already been destroyed. All that we now know of it comes from the writings of the earlier historians like Walker (1883), Renwick (1921) and co.
Known in early records as St. Theneu (mother of the legendary St. Mungo, who also had sacred wells dedicated to him in Glasgow, Gleneagles and much further afield), trackways and burns hereby were also named after this curious character, and a chapel was also commemorated to her, which fell into ruin several centuries ago. Its position was highlighted on a late-16th century sketch of Glasgow village—as it was then—immediately south of the chapel, just north of the River Clyde. The best description we have of it comes from a detailed paper on the holy wells of Glasgow by a Mr Brotchie (1920), who told:
“Where the subway station of St. Enoch’s Square stands…there was at one time the well of St. Tenew, the mother of St. Kentigern or Mungo. It is thus described by a writer in 1750, “The ruins of a small chapel stood beside the well whose waters were sheltered by a bush, on which were to be seen, especially in early summer, bits of rags of all kinds and colours, while in the well itself enterprising boys were wont to get small coins. The rags and the coins were the offerings of people, principally women, who came to drink of the waters of St. Tenew’s Well, and left these trifles as thank offerings.”
“This ancient well of St. Tenew stood near a chapel erected over the tomb of St. Tenew, and the ground in its vicinity remained sacred in the eyes of the faithful as the last resting place of the holy woman who had watched the infant steps of the great apostle of the Cambrian Britons, St. Mungo, the patron saint of Glasgow. The Trongate and Argyle Street, which now stretch westwards from the cross, were in old times a country road leading to St. Tenew’s chapel, kirkyard and holy well. In a deed of 1498 mention is made of “the blessed chapel where the bones of the beloved Tenew, mother of the blessed confessor, Kentigern, rest.” When M’Ure wrote his History of Glasgow in 1736, the remains of this old chapel and kirkyard were described as standing “in a solitary spot in the country surrounded by cornfields.” Looking westwards from St. Tenew’s Well in 1750, a writer describes the scene as “open country, pastures and cornfields, rude-looking country homesteads, barns and other farm buildings, and enclosed kailyards,” where now stand the busy arteries of Jamaica Street, the Caledonian Railway Station, and the miles of tenements that stretch westward to Anderston, Finnieston and Partick.
“We have a comparatively recent record of the holy well of St. Tenew in the statement of the late Mr Robert Hart, who told M’George that he had been informed by an old man, a Mr Thomson, who had resided in the neighbourhood of St. Enoch’s Square, that in the beginning of the last century, say 1800, he recollected the well being cleaned out, and of seeing picked from the debris at the bottom many old coins and votive offerings. St. Tenew’s Well was a holy well. For centuries it was a place of pilgrimage and was much resorted to for cures, especially in pre-Reformation days. In 1586, James VI, addressed a letter to Mr Andrew Hay, commissioner for the west of Scotland, condemning the practice of people making pilgrimages to wells and chapels, but the royal edict was powerless to stop the practice and St. Tenew’s Well was resorted to by people in trouble as long as it was in existence. The road that led to it was known up to the 15th century as St. Tenew’s Gait or path. Indeed, it was so named till 1540, when the name of Trongate begins to make its appearance in old city deeds. This name, of course, owes its origin to the granting in 1490 by James IV, to the Bishop of Glasgow of the privileges of a free tron in the city—hence our Trongate of today.”
