Tag: traditions

Great Bride Stones, Todmorden, West Yorkshire

megalithix

Sacred Rocks:  OS Grid Reference – SD 93329 26737

Getting Here

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:

  1. Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
  2. Crossland, Charles, “Place-Names in the Parish of Halifax in Relation to Surrounding Natural Features,” in Halifax Naturalist, volume 7, 1902.
  3. Farrar, Janet & Stewart, The Witches’ Goddess, Hale: London 1987.
  4. Harland, John & Wilkinson, T.T., Lancashire Folklore, John Heywood: Manchester 1882.
  5. 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).
  6. Smith, A.H., The Place-Names of the West Riding of Yorkshire – volume 3, Cambridge University Press 1963.
  7. Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Martinsell Hill, Oare, Pewsey, Wiltshire

megalithix

Hillfort:  OS Grid Reference – SU 1764 6396

Also Known as:

  1. Martin’s Hill

Archaeology & History

Martinsell Hill on 1888 map
Martinsell Hill on 1888 map

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

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

A.C. Smith’s old map

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

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

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

Hippisley Cox’s ground-plan

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

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

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

Folklore

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

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

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

Ley line running from Martinsell (image courtesy Paul Devereux)

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

…to be continued…

References:

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

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Loch Derculich, Dull, Perthshire

megalithix

Sacred Loch:  OS Grid Reference – NN 864 549

Folklore

Although this upland loch is today renowned as little more than a decent fishing spot, the waters here were long known to be haunted and the abode of a legendary water spirit.  In local tradition, the loch is said to be named after “an ancient Chief of Pictish origin” — whose burial mound is nearby — and in James Kennedy’s (1928) fascinating folklore work he also told that,

“Loch Dereculich was the habitation of a ‘Tarbh Uisge’ (water bull), the dangerous water demon… This dreaded monster, as the Norwegian peasant will gravely assure a traveller, demands every year a human victim, and carries off children who stray too near its abode… Less than one hundred and twenty years ago, the Loch Derculich Water Bull was seen sauntering along its shores.  At peat-making times it was observed very frequently.”

References:

  1. Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1928.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Banbury Cross, Oxfordshire

megalithix

Cross:  OS Grid Reference – SP 45323 40397

Also Known as:

  1. High Cross
  2. Market Cross

Archaeology & History

Banbury Cross (after Ronald Goodearl, 1973)
Banbury Cross (after Ronald Goodearl, 1973)

The original stone monolith that stood here has long since been destroyed (by christians arguing amongst themselves) and the ornate edifice that we see today was erected in 1859 to commemorate the marriage of Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter, Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa, to Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia.  Standing more than 52 feet tall, it is of a neo-Gothic design and is one of the tallest crosses in the country.  Originally there were going to be six carved statues cut into the niches of the cross, but this was later reduced to three.

First mentioned in place-name records from 1478, the original stone cross was itself very prominent, rising some 20 feet tall and sitting upon a square base of eight steps.  It was described by John Leland in his Itinerary when he visited the town sometime between 1535 and 1545, who said:

“At the west part of the street…is a large area, having a goodly cross with many degrees (steps) about it.  In this area is kept every Thursday a very celebrated market.”

The old cross was also a site where public notices and proclamations were dispensed to local people and seems to have been an old meeting place.  Whether it had a prehistoric predecessor isn’t known.

Folklore

The nursery rhyme we’ve all recited when we were kids and growing-up, has much of its origins around this ornate edifice and in the 20th century was thought to have its origins in pre-christian practices hereby, but this is questionable.  The rhyme, to those who don’t know it, goes:

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse,
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes.

As Kirsten Ayles (1973) told:

“This rhyme was first recorded in 1784, but it probably originated much earlier.  The Banbury Cross mentioned was destroyed at the turn of the 16th century by the Puritan inhabitants of Banbury.  It has been suggested that “bells on her toes” points to the fifteenth century, when a bell was worn on the long tapering shoe of each shoe.  It has (also) been thought that the “fine lady” was Queen Elizabeth I, or Lady Godiva.”

Another option identifying the “fine lady” in the rhyme is perhaps a member of the Fiennes family, ancestors of Lord Saye and Sele who owns nearby Broughton Castle.

References:

  1. Ayles, Kirsten, “A Short History of Nursery Rhymes,” in This England, 6:3, Autumn 1973.
  2. Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire (2 volumes), Cambridge University Press 1954.
  3. Vallance, Aymer, Old Crosses and Lychgates, Batsford: London 1920.

Acknowledgements:

To Ronald Goodearl, for use of his 1973 photograph of the Banbury Cross.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian 


Fairies Chest, Embsay Moor, North Yorkshire

megalithix

Legendary Rocks:  OS Grid Reference – SD 98696 56105

Also known as:

  1. Fairy’s Chest

Getting Here

Fairies Chest on 1853 map
Fairies Chest on 1853 map

This is an awesome beast! You can either approach it from Nettlehole Ridge ‘stone circle’ as I did, or take the more sensible approach and begin from Embsay village, walking up the path towards Embsay reservoir and onto the moorland heights of Crookrise Crag, 1350 feet above sea level. Worra view! But keep walking a little more, downhill, and it’ll hit you right in the face!

Archaeology & History

Fairy’s Chest, Embsay Moor

Known as an abode of the little people in the 19th century and shown on the earliest Ordnance Survey map of the region, I know of no previous accounts of this giant elongated boulder, forty feet long and nearly the same size as our legendary Hitching Stone that’s nestled below the small cliffs.  The boulder is surrounded by what seems like cairn-material on all sides (though it doesn’t look prehistoric). You’re looking straight west from here, right at the three small paps of Sharp Haw, Rough Haw and Flasby Fell.  If you like huge rocky outcrops, this (and others nearby) will make your day!

Folklore

Said to have been the abode of the little people in ages gone by; though even an old chap we met on our wander here told us how the legends it once held “have died with the old folk it seems.”

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Ben Ledi, Callander, Stirlingshire

megalithix

Sacred Mountain:  OS Grid Reference – NN 562 097

Getting Here

The hazy peak of Ben Ledi

From the tourist-infested (but lovely) town of Callander, look west to the largest of the nearby mountains — that’s where you’re heading!  You can keep along the A84 road out of the town for 4-5 miles (past the Falls and Pass of Leny) till you reach the parking spot on your left.  Cross the river and go up into the signposted woodland.  Keep walking up thru the trees until the rocky mass emerges above you.  You can either keep to the path and follow the long walk round the mountain, or go straight up the crags above you.  The top’s in sight!

Folklore

Getting up here is no easy task if you’re unfit — but it’s well worth the effort for the journey alone!  And in bygone centuries it seems, local people made it a particular pilgrimage at specific times during the year.  Even the name of this great hill has some supposed affinity with holy issues; though some modern english etymologists put a dampener on such things.  In Charles Rogers’ (1853) excellent Victorian exposition, he told that,

“Benledi is an abbreviation of the Celtic Ben-le-dia, signifying the hill of God.”

But whether the old heathens who named most of these ancient mountains would echo his oft-repeated derivation is another thing altogether!  However, there are other decidedly pre-christian events that used to be enacted here, for the summit of Ben Ledi was, tradition tells, where the sun god was worshipped.  It would seem, however, that this tradition is a somewhat watered-down version of it as a site of cosmological and social renewal. (see Eliade 1974) For akin to the annual pilgrimage that happens upon Croagh Patrick in County Mayo, Ireland, here upon Ben Ledi,

“For three days and three nights…the inhabitants of the district in those primitive times convened, at the period of summer solstice, on the summit of the mountain, to join in the rites of heathen worship.”

More recent lore tells the date of such sacred gatherings was Beltane.  Also a short distance to the north of the summit of Ben Ledi is a small loch known as Lochan-nan-corp.  Mr Rogers again tells us that,

“Here two hundred persons, who were accompanying a funeral from Glenfinglas to the churchyard of St. Bride, suddenly perished; the ground had been covered with snow and the company were crossing the lake on the ice, when it at once gave way.”

It seems a most unusual event.  But the tale itself implies that a corpse route passed by the way of this high summit, down to the heathen chapel of St. Bride at the bottom of its eastern face: a huge undertaking in itself with probably archaic origins.  Does anyone know owt more about this?

References:

  1. Eliade, Mircea, The Myth of the Eternal Return, Princeton University Press 1974.
  2. Eliade, Mircea, Patterns in Comparative Religion, Sheed & Ward: London 1958.
  3. Roger, Charles, A Week at Bridge of Allan, Adam & Charles Black: Edinburgh 1853.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Carmyllie Hill, Greystone, Angus

megalithix

Cairn:  OS Grid Reference – NO 545 434

Also Known as:

  1. Fairyfold Hillock
  2. Fairy Folk Hillock

Folklore

An intriguing site this, as it doesn’t appear to be in the Canmore archaeological register – unless it’s the Canmore site 34750.  Yet Alexander MacGregor (1937) mentions the place in his folklore study as being a site where the little people lived.  Shown on the first OS-map of the region as ‘Fairyfold Hillock’, Mr MacGregor (1937) said of it:

“Near the summit of Carmylie Hill is a large barrow or tumulus, which was believed at one time by the natives to be a favourite haunt of the fairies, where, with much splendour, they held their nightly revels. It still bears the name of ‘Fairy-Folk Hillock.'”

However it seems that quarrying operations may have destroyed the site.  The tomb here was probably the same one described by Mr Andrew Jervise in the Journal of the Kilkenny and South East of Ireland Archaeological Society (1864-66), where he wrote:

“Many years ago I took note of another example of these ‘footmarks,’ which was found in the parish of Carmyllie…  This was discovered in the course of making agricultural improvements some thirty-five years ago, on which occasion stone coffins or cists were got, and in one of these was a bronze (?) ring, of about three inches in diameter, now said to be lost.  Apart from the cists there was a rude boulder of about two tons weight; and upon the lower side of it, as my informant told me, was scooped the representation of a human foot. This too was associated with the elves; for the hillock upon which these discoveries were made was called the ‘fairies’ knowe;’ and tradition says that, but for a spirit that warned the workmen to suspend operations when they began to prepare for the foundations of the parish church, the church would have been built upon that spot!”

References:

  1. MacGregor, Alexander, Highland Superstitions, Eneas MacKay: Stirling 1937.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Wallace’s Stone, Dunblane, Stirlingshire

megalithix

Standing Stones / Stone Row:  OS Grid Reference – NN 83259 02293

Also Known as:

  1. Lairhill Stones

Getting Here

Follow the same directions as to reach the cup-marked Sheriffmuir Carving, which is just a coupla hundred yards away to the southwest.  On a clear day you can see this standing stone from the pub by the roadside, a few hundred yards away!

Archaeology & History

Wallace Stone (photo credit – James Elkington)

This is alleged to be just one standing stone in a straight line of five once-upright monoliths.  Starting at the southwestern end of this row we have the 7ft-long cup-marked Sheriffmuir Carved stone — which certainly looks as if it stood upright in the not-too-distant past — and as we move up the line we pass another that’s been split in half.  Another earthfast-looking rock is the next contender, before we reach our famous Wallace Stone, standing upright and proud on this moorland ridge.  It’s about 6ft tall and 3ft across at its widest and certainly acts as a marker for the line of stones that allegedly stood upright here.  And if we walk just a bit further up we have another big stone laid on the ground which is alleged to be a part of the same alignment.

The split stone (photo credit – James Elkington)

If it is an authentic megalithic row, it’s not included in either the Thoms’ (1990) two-volume work on the subject, nor Aubrey Burl’s (1996) compendium a few years later.  And though the alignment looks good, I’ve found ones just like this in the Pennines where we have just one upright left and then a line of other seemingly prostrate stones running dead straight either side of the singular upright (and have kept mi gob shut about ’em for sensible reasons), so I’m not too sure what to think.

But, alignment aside, the Wallace Stone itself is a damn good standing stone and well worth checking out.  It’s highly probable that other prehistoric remains still lurk, undiscovered, amidst these heaths…like the lost stone circle to be found nearby…

Folklore

A slight variation on a theme about this spot:  in both accounts the stone was named after the legendary Scottish independence fighter, Sir William Wallace.  The folklore tells that he and his fighting clans gathered here in 1297 preceeding the Battle of Stirling Bridge; whilst the variation tells that the stone here was actually erected around that time to commemorate the event.  This tale was first narrated by a local story-teller called Blind Harry and was found by local historian A.F. Hutchinson (1893) to be a case of mistaken identity!

References:

  1. Burl, Aubrey, From Carnac to Callanish: The Prehistoric Stone Rows and Avenues of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 1993.
  2. Heggie, Douglas C., Megalithic science: ancient mathematics and astronomy in north-west Europe, Thames & Hudson: London 1981.
  3. Hutchinson, A.F., “The Standing Stones and other Rude Monuments of Stirling District,” in Transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Antiquarian Society, 1893.
  4. Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Archaeological Sites and Monuments of Stirling District, Central Region, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 1979.
  5. Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, Aubrey, Stone Rows and Standing Stones – 2 volumes, B.A.R.: Oxford 1990.

Acknowledgements:  Big thanks as always to James Elkington for use of his photos in this site profile – prints of which are available from the man himself!

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


St. Patrick’s Well, Heysham, Lancashire

megalithix

Holy Well:  OS Grid Reference – SD 4109 6159

Getting Here

From Heysham village centre by the little roundabout, go down the gorgeous olde-worlde Main Street for about 150 yards, keeping your eyes peeled for the little track up to the tree-lined church of St. Peter.  Just before going up the path to the church, set back at the roadside, you’ll see an old pump in an arch in the walling.  That’s St. Patrick’s Well!

St.Patrick’s Well, Heysham

Archaeology & History

Not to be confused with another St. Patrick’s Well a few miles north of here, little has been said of this old holy well in literary tomes (even Henry Taylor’s (1906) magnum opus missed it!)  Sadly the waters here have long since been diverted (which violates religious tradition, quite frankly), and all we see today is an old iron water-pump set inside a stone arch, beneath which – I presume – the waters once ran.  An old plaque on the site of this ancient well tells:

“This is one of two holy wells in Heysham village (the other, Sainty Well, is on private property and covered over), whose dedications are long since lost.  Latterly the water from this well was used for utilitarian gardening purposes within the confines of the old rectory.

“Previously the well had fallen into disuse, suffered from surface contamination and became rubble-filled when the bank above gave way in the mid-1800s.  In the early 1900s, the well-head was again rebuilt and the well itself was cleaned and made safe by capping with concrete.  Recently (May 2002) the well-head has been refurbished and water artificially introduced, thus turning a derelict area into a feature of the village.”

It would be good if local people could complain to the regional water authority and make them redirect the waters beneath the well, back to the surface, to allow devotees — both Christian and otherwise — to partake of the holy blood sanctified by St. Patrick many centuries ago.  And without fluoride or other unholy chemical compounds that desecrate our waters.  Just the sacred waters of God’s Earth please!

Folklore

This is one of the many places in the British Isles where St. Patrick was said to have landed after he’d converted all the Irish into the christian cult!  One of the traditions was that St. Patrick said the well would never run dry — which was shown to be untrue when the waters were filled in with rubble in the 19th century.  The same saint also used the waters from the well to baptise and convert the peasants of his time.

References:

  1. Quick, R.C., Morecambe and Heysham, Past and Present, Morecambe Times 1962.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian


Devil’s Dyke, Poynings, Sussex

megalithix

Hillfort:  OS Grid Reference – TQ 260 111

Also Known as:

  1. Brighton Dyke
  2. Poor Man’s Wall 

Getting Here

Map of Devil's Dyke
Map of Devil’s Dyke

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:

  1. Anon., “Notes: The Brighton Dyke,” in The Antiquaries Journal, 5:4, October 1925.
  2. Clinch, G., “Ancient Earthworks,” in Victoria County History of Sussex – volume 2 (edited by W. Page), St. Catherine’s Press: London 1905.
  3. Cox, R. Hippisley, The Green Roads of England, Methuen: London 1927.
  4. Hawkes, Jacquetta, A Guide to the Prehistoric and Roman Monuments in England and Wales, Chatto & Windus: London 1973.
  5. 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.
  6. Simpson, Jacqueline, The Folklore of Sussex, Batsford: London 1973.
  7. Simpson, Jacqueline, “Sussex Local Legends,” in Folklore Journal, volume 84, 1973.

© Paul Bennett, The Northern Antiquarian