Described in Walter Bennett’s (1946) magnum opus as a “stone circle” and repeated in Aubrey Burl’s (2000) magnum opus under the same category, the site here seems more likely to have been an old cairn circle, or perhaps even a simple tumulus — and a small one at that! It was first noted in June of 1842 when the antiquarian, Mr F.C. Spencer of Halifax, “had his attention called to a circle of stones in a field called Delph Hill Pasture by Jonas Lee, a Thursden farmer, and a somewhat noted character in his day” who knew the location very well. It didn’t take long for Mr Spencer to realise that this was “an ancient British barrow,” as he called it, and made plans to excavate the site soon after seeing it.
Following Spencer’s dig, a short account of the finds was made in the Gentleman’s Magazine, telling of the remains of this “small circle of stones” and the burials therein. The account said:
“The circle originally consisted of rock pillars (five of which remain) , standing about 18 inches above the surface, and being about 2 feet square. The diameter of the circle is about 5 yards. Mr Spencer directed an excavation to be made without delay, the result of which was the discovery of two very antique earthen urns, curiously marked, containing fragments of human bones, of small dimensions, mixed with charcoal and black mould. The tops of the vessels were covered with small flat slate-stones, but little larger than the urns, over which larger heavy stones were placed for their protection. The urns were found about 2 feet beneath the surface of the field, in the centre of the circle, embedded in soft clay, with many pieces of charcoal interspersed. About 300 yards from the barrow are the bold remains of a British circular camp…”
A few years later, Tattersall Wilkinson (1893) told that “three unglazed urns, with human remains and flint arrowheads” (my italics) were found at the locale. Curiously there has been some confusion as to the number of urns that were actually found at Delf Hill by different authors over the last 175 years (numbering between 1 and 3, depending on whose account you read!), but it would seem this has occurred due to the proximity of other tombs close by.
An excursion to Delf Hill a few years after Spencer’s first dig is described in an article by L. Clement (1874), where several members of a local history society reported that the mound here consisted of a “small circle of stones, seven in number, fourteen feet in diameter”, that probably surrounded the hillock. One of the stones had been knocked over and moved, so the group took it upon themselves to place the monolith back into what they thought was its original setting within the monument.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 094 242
Archaeology & History
Shaw Hill urn
The remains here have long since succumbed to that self-righteous advance of industrial civilization. Even when the Halifax historian John Watson (1775) first described what had been here, the burial mound had gone; but thankfully he was fortunate in getting details regarding the whereabouts and contents of the remains. Three burial urns were found next to each other — presumably in the same tumulus — one of which was in a reasonably good state of preservation, as shown from the illustration which I reproduce here. We have no description of the burial mound, only of the urns, of which Mr Watson told us:
“It was found, with two others, at the gates, at the bottom of the walk near Shaw Hill, leading to the house in Skircoat, called Heath. They lay in a line, one yard deep and one yard asunder, with their mouths downwards. This contained calcined bones, and dust; the two others were broken in pieces. It is eight inches deep, stands upon a bottom of four inches diameter and, where there is no moulding, is from twenty-one inches, or thereabouts, to twenty-three inches in circumference.”
It was of similar size and design to burial urns found at Tower Hill a couple of miles west of Halifax. In Prof Watson’s (1952) work on the prehistoric sites of Calderdale, he assigned this burial mound and pottery to have been from the Bronze Age.
References:
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)
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners, 1767-1783; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F.King: Halifax 1906.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, HSS: Halifax 1952.
Cairns (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 053 261
Archaeology & History
F.A. Leyland’s drawing of the urns
There’s really nowt to see around here nowadays (apart from a lovely view of the hills and the Calder valley), but it seems that not-too-long ago there were several burials in evidence upon this hill. F.A. Leyland (1867) gives a quite detailed account of the urns and their discovery, which have been variously thought of as Roman, then Saxon, then prehistoric — with them finally ascribed as Bronze Age in Watson’s (1952) survey of the region. Not too far away could once be found the legendary Robin Hood’s stone circle, which might have had some relationship with the burials here — though we’ll probably never know for sure! Leyland’s (1869) lengthy notes of this site told:
“An interesting discovery was made in…recent times, of a number of cinerary urns in the township of Warley. The site of the interments was at Tower Hill, a position on a line of military defences which extended from the entrenchments of Hunter’s Hill to Camp End in this township. The urns were found in the process of quarrying for stone; but, owing to the nature of the operations, and the unlooked for discovery of such relics as these or the total absence of all knowledge of their value, by the people employed, many similar remains are known to have been demolished as worthless objects.
“On one occasion, however, an urn, bleached by the tempests of an entire winter, was observed to protrude half its own bulk from the stratum of soil in which it had been originally buried.
“The curiosity of the labourers was excited, and the relic was removed. It was found to contain bones and ashes which the people, ever prone to the marvellous, held to be the remains of a child which had been destroyed by foul means and there buried. This opinion was noised abroad, and the true nature of the interment explained. We examined a fragment of this relic: it was rudely constructed of sun-burnt clay, and was grimed in the inside as if by the smouldering embers of the funeral pyre, and the smoking ashes of the dead, on their introduction to their narrow urn.
“This had been filled with these human exuviæ; and appeared to have been lined with moss mixed with fibres of plants which, after the urn had fallen in pieces, adhered firmly to its contents. It was thirteen or fourteen inches high, and was no doubt made by the hand alone. Within a few yards of this, another urn was found, containing bones and ashes, but so far decomposed as to preclude the possibility of its preservation: near the same place the smaller urn in our illustration was discovered buried in the dark soil peculiar to the locality; it was filled with calcined bones and ashes and, like the one found at Upleton—and in the possession of Dr Young of Whitby—had a small clay vessel placed within it, which is represented in our engraving. The urn was, moreover, protected by a lid, resembling the inverted stand of an ordinary flower-pot: the relic measured six inches high.
“During the winter of 1848, a date subsequent to the above discoveries, there was a fall of earth from the same spot, into the quarry at Tower Hill; the soil, thus precipitated from the moor, impeded the operations of the labourers; and, on its removal, the larger urn of our illustration was brought to light. This relic measured nine inches high and was twenty-two in circumference; but, in the rubbish, there were observed numerous fragments of other cinerary urns, and equally numerous relics of cremation.
“These discoveries lead one to one of two conclusions: either that Tower Hill was the field of some formidable engagement, in which numbers fell; or, that it was used as a place of frequent sepulture by the primitive inhabitants of the locality. It is not at all improbable that these urns were the produce of some local pottery, if not made by the same hand, as the one described by Watson (1775), the patterns indented on the two upper compartments of the smaller vessel being of the same kind, and occupying the same positions as the one referred to.
“The larger urn, as will be observed, is divided like the others into three compartments, the upper one standing out in relief, but having a different kind of decoration resembling herring-bone masonry; while the smaller one of our illustration, and that of Watson, are furnished with a zigzag design. But, although there is this slight variation in the upper moulding of the larger vessel, they all possess the lozenge-shaped decoration in their central compartments.”
We haven’t yet explored this site diligently and also know that if we have to await the slow hand of archaeology here we’d be waiting an aeon, but Tower Hill’s position in the landscape would tend to indicate the latter of Leyland’s earlier suggestions regarding the nature of the finds, i.e., the hill was a prehistoric graveyard, though of unknown size.
References:
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)
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners, 1767-1783; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F.King: Halifax 1906.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of the Parish of Halifax, T. Lowndes: London 1775.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, HSS: Halifax 1952.
An excellent passage grave tomb that’s been described by many historians over the last two hundred years, and was subject to a fine excavation in the first half of the 20th century. Ascribed as neolithic in origin, recent finds of human activity on the edge of the surrounding henge indicates people have been “up to things” hereby since at least 6000 BC. Deriving its name from “the mound of the black grove,” the site as we see it today has been much restored and is so different to when it was visited by Thomas Pennant and other antiquarians.
According to an anonymously written essay in Archaeologia Cambrensis in 1847, the site was first described by Henry Rowlands (1723) where, in relation to another site, he told were,
“the remains of two carnedds, within a few paces of one another: the one is somewhat broken and pitted into on one side, where the stones had been carried away; the other having had its stones almost all taken away into walls and hedges, with two standing columns erected between them.”
A somewhat more detailed description came from Thomas Pennant a few years later. He wrote:
“A few years ago, beneath a carnedd similar to that at Tregarnedd, was discovered, on a farm called Bryn-celli-ddu…a passage three feet wide, four feet two or three inches high and about nineteen feet and a half long, which led into a room about three feet in diameter and seven in height. The form was an irregular hexagon, and the sides composed of six rude slabs, one of which measured in its diagonal eight feet nine inches. In the middle was an artless pillar of stone, four feet eight inches in circumference. This supports the roof, which consists of one great stone near ten feet in diameter. Along the sides of the room was, if I may be allowed the expression, a stone bench, on which were found human bones, which fell to dust almost at a touch: it is probable that the bodies were placed on the bench… The diameter of the incumbent carnedd is from ninety to a hundred feet.”
Ground-plan
But the main excavation work at Bryn Celli Ddu was done in the late-1920s by W.J. Hemp (1930) and his team, who, as usual following such digs, ended up with just as many questions about the site as they had answers! One of the best descriptions of Hemp’s excavation work was by W.F. Grimes (1932) in an essay he wrote for the East Anglian Prehistoric Society where he gave the following detailed description of the finds:
“The cairn here was circular, with a chamber of some 160ft and an original maximum height of at least 12ft. The chamber is a polygonal structure of large stones augmented…with dry-stone walling, entered on the northeast side by a long passage built in the same way. Many of the stones had been dressed and in the chamber stood a single pillar which had been artificially rounded and smoothed, but which had never actually supported the capstone.
“These features had been more or less apparent for many years. But the reparation work soon showed that this was by no means all. In the first place, it was found that the chamber had been surrounded by four circles of standing stones. The first of these, around the outside of the mound at its base, had disappeared, although early accounts and a single hole found in the course of the work of excavation, are evidence of its existence. The second and third circles were found when the entrance to the passage wall was being cleared. Here the walls of the passage were found to merge into an outer circle of large stones and an inner of smaller, set close together and elaborately packed and sunk in a ditch six feet deep and eighteen wide, enclosing the chamber in such a way that passage, chamber and circles together form a gigantic unbroken spiral, with the chamber itself as an unbroken loop in it. The fourth and innermost circle was in the area enclosed by the ditch (which is represented on the plan by the shaded portion). This consisted of a number of stones of various sizes, irregularly placed and in some cases inclined outwards. Under some of them were deposits of burnt human bones. Lines connecting these stones diametrically were found to intersect at the centre of the monument, directly behind the chamber, and here was found a slab-covered pit which contained an elaborate filling whose purpose is unexplained. Beside the cover-stone of the pit was a second larger slab of grit, lying flat, the faces of which were covered with an elaborate and continuous pattern of spirals, scrolls and zig-zags. The position of this stone is shown beside the central stone on the plan. Of it purpose it can only be said that it was probably magical…
“As if the elaborate features already described thus badly were not enough, a uniform floor of purple clay was found to cover the old natural surface within the area enclosed by the ditch, and there were on the floor, in the ditch, and in many other places extensive traces of fire in the form of burnt patches, blackening and quantities of charcoal. In addition there were outside the entrance, a line of post-holes and remains of walls suggesting the former existence of some kind of forecourt crossed by a temporary barrier. Here also were traces of fire and of elaborate ritual. It must be emphasized of course, that all these features, with the exception of the outer circle of stones and the forecourt, had been completely concealed by the mound, so that they were not visible once the monument was completed… Moreover…the entrance to the chamber had been closed with an elaborate blocking which suggested that once closed the chamber had not been intended to be re-opened.”
Although many questions emerged following the excavation, perhaps that relating to the chronology and evolution of the site (after its ritual use) was most important. The site as we see it today sits within the confines of a henge monument (which should also be given an independent entry account) and once a stone circle. And although present day field evidence is inconclusive about which came first, archaeologists like Richard Bradley, Clare o’ Kelly and others are not without opinion. Bradley (1998) told:
“O’ Kelly argued that there had been two successive monuments on the site. The earlier one was a stone circle, enclosed by the earthworks of the henge. In a later phase this was replaced by a passage grave which was built over the surviving remains of the stone circle, its outer kerb being bedded in the ditch of the older monument.”
But Bradley himself doubts this for various reasons, himself interpreting,
“the sequence at Bryn Celli Ddu is to suggest that in its first phase it consisted of a circular unrevetted mound about 15m in diameter, containing a passage grave. Around the edge of this structure was a stone circle, and beyond that there was a quarry ditch. When the monument was enlarged, not on one occasion but twice, the passage was extended as far as the earlier ditch and a significantly larger mound was bounded by kerbstones.”
Though adding himself that there is also a trouble with this idea! As with many other sites, Bryn Celli Ddu appears to have been aligned to the summer solstice. This notion was first propounded by astronomer Sir Norman Lockyer (1909) in his hugely revised work on the astronomical function of megalithic sites. It was nearly 100 years before any archaeologist got off their backside and tested Lockyer’s original proposal and found the scientist to have been way ahead of them at their own discipline. Not unsurprisingly, archaeologist Mike Pitts (2006) was a bit slow in his gimmicky headline in British Archaeology, where he deemed Steve Burrow’s personal observation as “sensational.” Oh how common this theme seems to be in archaeology. Twenty years previously Miranda Green (1991) posited that the chamber alignment from Bryn Celli Ddu aligned towards “May Day sunrise” — which doesn’t seem to work. And on a similar astronomical note, archaeologist Julian Thomas (1991) thought that five post-holes found some five yards beyond the entrance were somewhat reminiscent of the “A” holes at Stonehenge and related to some lunar alignments, thinking that:
“It seems likely that (they) record a series of observations upon the rising of some heavenly body in order to ascertain its standstill position.”
A point that Clive Ruggles (1999) explored with a little scepticism, pointing out:
“The only possibility is the northern minor limit of the moon, and while the adjacent posts are ranged on the correct side to record the position, say, of the midwinter full moonrise in years before and after the minor standstill, many other interpretations of these posts are doubtless possible.”
There’s been lots written about this place and lots more could be added with various archaeologists showing their relative opinions about the place. But perhaps more worthwhile is a visit to the place, later on, when the tourists have fallen back under a starlit sky…
References:
Anonymous, “Cromlech at Bryn Celli Ddu, Anglesey,” in Archaeologia Cambrensis, volume 2, 1847.
Barber, Chris & Williams, John G., The Ancient Stones of Wales, Blorenge: Abergavenny 1989.
Bradley, Richard, “Stone Circles and Passage Graves – A Contested Relationship,” in Prehistoric Ritual and Religion, edited by Alex Gibson & Derek Simpson (Sutton: Stroud 1998).
Green, Miranda, The Sun Gods of Ancient Europe, Batsford: London 1991.
Grimes, W.F., “Prehistoric Archaeology in Wales since 1925,” in Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society of East Anglia, 7:1, 1932.
Hemp, W.J., “The Chambered Tomb of Bryn Celli Ddu, Anglesey,” in Archaeologia, volume 80, 1930.
Lockyer, Norman, Stonehenge and other British Stone Monuments Astronomically Considered, MacMillan: London 1909.
Lynch, Frances, Prehistoric Anglesey, Anglesey Antiquarian Society 1991.
o’ Kelly, Clare, “Bryn Celli Ddu: A Reinterpretation,” in Archaeologia Cambrensis, volume 118, 1969.
Ruggles, Clive, Astronomy in Prehistoric Britain and Ireland, Yale University Press 1999.
Thomas, Julian, Rethinking the Neolithic, Cambridge University Press 1991.
From Malham village go over the lovely old bridge and follow the road up and round, keeping to the left (not up the Gordale Lane) where the junction appears a few hundred yards along. Follow this steep and winding road all the way to the top for a couple of miles until you hit a junction seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Park up somewhere to the left and notice the hillock which you’ve just passed on your right (east) with a bittova flat top to it. Cross the stile and go up to it!
Archaeology & History
Although somewhat overgrown thanks to the persistence of Nature, this good-sized burial mound on top of this, one of many small hills in and around the moors hereby, is a fine specimen to behold and a fine place to sit and drink in the view. Although not quite having the grandeur of the Great Close Hill tomb a mile to the north, the countryside hereby is still impressive and was of obvious importance in the mythic landscape of our Bronze Age ancestors. If you think otherwise, there’s obviously summat wrong with you.
Approaching the tumulusSeaty Hill tumulus
Although we can only see the remains of one singular round tomb today, at least two other tumuli were once in evidence in this large open field but they were dug out many years back. There were probably even more of them, but any trace has long since gone. Thankfully this one was given the attention of decent archaeologists some fifty years back, when Arthur Raistrick (1962) and his mates got stuck into the place. His initial account of the place told us how it was,
“…surrounded by a shallow ditch and bank enclosing a low mound 66 feet diameter, rising about 4 feet above the ditch bottoms. In the original surface of the hill top there had been dug two holes, circular and partly impinging on one another, both 3ft 6in deep. In the northwesterly one of these a skeleton had been carefully placed in a sitting position, with knees drawn well up, and was facing the second hole which is to the southeast. This hole was almost filled by a carefully built cairn of limestone boulders, but nothing was found either in or beneath it. No artifact of any kind was found with the skeleton. Both holes had been filled in with fine sandy and gravelly loam to the natural ground level and then covered with a low mound, 15 feet in diameter and 1 foot high, of coarser gravel and small boulders. The second mound, 66 feet diameter, of limestone rubble and boulder clay and 3 feet high above ground level, was put over this and provided with a kerb of large limestone boulders buried in the toe of the mound. A shallow ditch was then dug and its spoil thrown outwards to form a shallow bank.
“In the surface of the large mound there were not less than 13 secondary burials of early Iron Age, each in a small saucer-shaped depression filled in with gravelly loam. These burials are extremely fragmentary and are more like token burials than complete ones. In three of them, beads were found, one of jet, one of blue glass and one of carved limonite. In a burial nearly over the central older burial, a skeleton was arranged with a bone (musical) pipe between the knees, where also there were several small bones of hand and wrist and part of an iron knife. The (musical) pipe was made from the tibia of a sheep, perforated with three finger holes, with a well-shaped speaking lip and mouthpiece. The pipe was playable… A full account of this unique instrument has been published elsewhere… In two of the burials there were recognizable fragments of iron knives, and in two others pieces of iron of unrecognized use, all in positions which could have been under the knee of a more primitive skeleton. By analogy and style the primary burial has been assigned to the Early Bronze Age, and the Iron Age burials to the period first century BC to the first century AD.”
It would be intriguing to ascertain how many people from this period were playing flute-like instruments such as the one found here, and whether (as with other musical instruments in all other tribal cultures on Earth) magickal virtues were assigned to it, or the music it liberated. Certainly in a great number of places around this very area where this instrument was found, many natural sites still abound with the hugely underrated virtue of silence; and upon the still air amidst which music would be cast, the echoes or else faint sense of such sound would evoke a marvel — curious or dreamt — to those upon who it fell. If you think otherwise, there’s definitely summat wrong with y’!
References:
Raistrick, Arthur & Holmes, Paul F., Archaeology of Malham Moor, Headley Bros: London 1961.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – SE 0095 2748
Archaeology & History
Up behind the old pub that was The Mount Skip, high on the ridge above Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd, overlooking the Calder Valley for many miles, was once — it would seem — a number of fine prehistoric remains, long since destroyed by the industrial advance of quarrying and such likes. Amidst what seems to have been settlement remains and, perhaps, timber circles, an ancient grave was also known here. In Mr Ling Roth’s (1906) essay on the prehistoric remains of the Halifax region, he wrote:
“In May, 1897, a grave was discovered at a quarry above Mount Skip Inn. The first indications were the rolling down of pieces of urns which the delvers called flower pots. Then in digging into a hole to fix the leg of a crane, human bones were discovered, Mr Crossley Ainsworth told me: “The grave was about 6ft (1.8m) long, from 14 to 18in (35-45.7cm) wide and about 2ft (61cm) deep…the head and feet were almost exactly north and south, with the face right towards the midday sun.” The bones were very brittle and crumbled easily in the hand. There was a lot of charcoal in the grave. In the ends of the grave which were undisturbed, “there appeared to be about 6in (15cm) thick of charred wood and bones mixed together at the bottom. Flints were also found. Also the larger half of a small earthenware vessel which had rolled down into the quarry ; this was picked up by a man named Thos. Greenwood, of Shawcroft Hill.”
The site was mentioned again nearly fifty years later in Geoffrey Watson’s (1952) survey, but with no additional details.
References:
Roth, H. Ling, The Yorkshire Coiners 1767-183; and Notes on Old and Prehistoric Halifax, F. King and Son: Halifax 1906.
Watson, Geoffrey G., Early Man in the Halifax District, Halifax Scientific Society 1952.
This little known site, long since destroyed during the construction of Keighley Railway Station, was found in a curious spot, close to the bottom of the Aire Valley. Most (known) prehistoric burials occur on the higher grounds in this area. And though we don’t appear to have the exact location of the find, it was pretty close to either side of Keighley’s old railway station (which is shown as 100 yards to the other side of the road of the present station on the 1852 OS map). This may position the site as being on the grounds opposite and below St. Anne’s Church; otherwise it was getting closer to where the River Worth runs by. In Keighley & Holmes’ early (1858) work they told that,
“Whilst excavating for the Railway within about a hundred yards of the Keighley station, one of the labourers discovered three urns containing a quantity of human bones. Two of them were unluckily broken, one being large enough to hold eight or nine quarts. The one brought away whole, and seen by the present writer, may hold about a quart; it is somewhat distastefully designed, moulded by hand out of the common clay, without glaze, and rudely ornamented on the outside by some sharp implement. The once animated contents of each urn were covered by a square flat stone.”
This final remark seems to indicate the urns were located in a cist (a small stone grave), but we don’t know whether this was found within the remains of a denuded tumulus or stone cairn. However, considering the lack of any remarks about a large pile of stones (which would have been very noticeable) covering this burial site, it would seem more probable that this site was originally an earth-covered tumulus, whose visibility and knowledge had long since diminished in this part of Airedale.
References:
Keighley, William & Homes, Robert, Keighley, Past and Present, R. Aked: Keighley 1858.
From Sabden, head up the steep Clitheroe Road towards the Nick o’ Pendle, turning left 100 yards before the hilltop and along the dirt-track for a few yards, before veering up the winding footpath to the hilltop. When you’re at the peak of this little bit o’ moorland, go to your left (west), following the small path into the grasses and heather all the way on for a few hundred yards till you hit the triangulation pillar. Go past this, over one stile (north) and then immediately at right-angles (west) over another stile and downhill for about 100 yards until you’re on the rough grassland level. Keep your eyes peeled as you’re walking until you see what looks like a denuded stone-lined pit, much overgrown — with the main feature (showing that you’ve hit the target) being the engraving on one of the larger rocks: “Jeppe Knave Grave”.
Archaeology & History
The Jeppe Knave Grave
First described in early perambulation records of 1326 CE, this is a small but intriguing site found on the far southwestern slopes of Pendle Hill, on the ridge beneath the triangulation pillar of Wiswell Moor. It’s a small and overgrown cairn with a general archaeological association of prehistory attached—though no detailed excavation has ever been done here, despite local archaeologists having access to a large grant to explore this region a short while ago.¹ But up North, as many of us know, archaeology is given little priority and those who do decent exploratory work under the umbrella of such academic quarters tend to be few and far between. Thankfully we had the northern antiquarian and local writer John Dixon (1993) nearby who gave us the best overview of the site. He wrote:
“This landscape feature, known as Jeppe Knave Grave, stands at a place called The Lows high on Wiswell Moor and takes the form of a low grass-covered mound 16M in diameter with a stone filled depression in the centre 5 x 3 M. This feature appears to be a mutilated cairn and has been tentatively ascribed to the Bronze Age. The outer ring of stones can be discerned in the rough pasture at the perimeter – yellow in dry conditions, showing the circular shape. Given the large size of the stones here, the cairn may have been of a chambered type/passage tomb of the Neolithic period, and if this was the case the burial (or burials?) was one of great importance.
“Upon the largest stone are inscribed the words ‘JEPPE KNAVE GRAVE and a cross (inscribed by the Scouting Association in the 1960’s). The stone marks the final resting place of Jeppe Curteys (Geoffrey Curtis), a local robber who was decapitated for his crimes in the first year of Edward III, 1327. The name first occurs in a record of the boundaries between Wiswall and Pendleton dated 1342.
“…In those times the punishment of decapitation was unusual, being reserved for those of noble birth. So who was this Jeppe Curteys, punished by decapitation and later buried on the high ridge of Wiswell Moor in a pre-Christian burial mound on the then boundary of parishes? That intriguing story we may never know. But to be buried in such a manner and place was indeed a great indignity – interment in what might be considered in those times to be a ‘pagan’ or ‘devilish’ spot. It may be that to bury a man in such a place was to literally ‘send him to the devil’. Alternatively one could ask: ‘Was the site thought then to be the burial spot of some noble ancestor, and Jeppe being of possible noble birth interred with great dignity? Again we may never know, yet it is significant that this lonely spot is still identified with a man who was executed 700 years ago.
In 1608 it was stated that one Robert Lowe had taken a stone from the grave and used it as a cover of his lime kiln.”
Old codgers from the local Senile Society, inspecting York Minster!Agatha Lyons’ 1871 sketch
The design of the cairn here is unlike the ones you usually come across on the Lancashire and Yorkshire moorlands. The edges of the Jeppe Knave Grave are walled and much more well-defined than the large rock piles that we find scattering our uplands. A similar though larger cairn with features similar to these can be seen in the large Low Hill tumulus on Elslack Moor near Earby, about ten miles northeast of here…
Other prehistoric remains scatter the many rolling hills that you can see from here: mainly prehistoric tombs sat upon hilltops as far as the eye can see. John pointed out what may be the remains of another tumulus that can be seen on the nearby horizon a few hundred yards NNW from here, overlooking the gorgeous village of Pendleton and the landscape beyond…
References:
Dixon, John, Journeys through Brigantia – volume 9: The Ribble Valley, Aussteiger Publications: Barnoldswick 1993.
Whitaker, Thomas Dunham, An History of the Original Parish of Whalley – volume 2, George Routledge: London 1876.
¹ John Dixon informed us how the people in question spent the grant — somewhere in the region of £50,000 — on exploring some modern architectural features, instead of exploring some of the little-known sites and seeking out others on these hills.
* John is the author of many fine historical travel guides, including the Journeys through Brigantia series. See the titles in the Lancashire Bibliography and Yorkshire Bibliography for a more complete listing of all his books to date. If you wanna buy any of his works, or make enquiries regarding them, email John at: lancashirebooks@fsmail.net – or write to him direct, at: John Dixon, Aussteiger Publications, 21 Lowergate, Clitheroe, Lancashire BB7 1AD.
Crowned by a clump of trees (planted in 1740), this hilltop site is one of the more impressive of a number of tombs hereby, with its nearest other neighbour being 70 yards southeast of here. One of Dorset’s early tribal meeting places (Anderson 1934), the tomb was illustrated on Isaac Taylor’s 1765 map of the region and was dug into in 1858 “on the orders of a local magnate” (Marsden 1999), damaging some substantial portion of the tomb. Of this, craniologist and antiquarian John Thurnam was most displeased; for in his description of the opening of Culliford Tree he wrote:
“A wide trench had been dug through it one side, from the summit and the rubble which had been thrown out had not been replaced… Another subject of regret was the fact that though, as we were told by the neighbouring rustics, human remains, with pottery and certain other relics, were found in the barrow, no authentic account of the exploration had, so far as we could learn, been put to print.”
Leslie Grinsell (1959) found the same trouble in his assessment of this site; and the Royal Commission (1970) lads could only describe the site thus:
“Large trench on south and top almost certainly dug in 1858 when four secondary extended inhumations, one with necklace of amber and two gold-plated beads, and cremation with incense cup in collared urn, were found.”
However, it seems that the necklace and gold-plated beads have been “lost” — i.e., someone has them in their own private collection somewhere!
Folklore
This is one of very few tombs in this part of the country where we find the tradition of fairy music. Grinsell (1959) told that:
“The Culliford Tree barrow, formerly the meeting place of the Hundred of Culllingford Tree, is also known as the Music Barrow from the belief that music could be heard beneath the mound by those who listened at the apex at midday.”
References:
Anderson, O.S., The English Hundred-Names, Lunds Universitets Arsskrift 1934.
Marsden, Barry M., The Early Barrow Diggers, Tempus: Stroud 1999.
Royal Commission on Historical Monuments, An Inventory of Historical Monuments in the County of Dorset – Volume 2: South-East, Part 3, HMSO: London 1970.
Warne, Charles, Celtic Tumuli of Dorset: An Account of Personal and other Researches in the Sepulchral Mounds of the Durotriges, Smith: London 1866.
Tumulus (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – TA 0422 7726
Archaeology & History
A once-impressive haunted burial mound on the southern edge of Folkton parish, all that remains of the place now are aerial images showing the ghostly ring of its former site. Commenting on the destruction of this burial mound before he had chance to give it his full attention, in William Greenwell’s (1877) magnum opus he wrote the following:
“Elf Howe had been removed to a great extent, and the grave had been dug out before I had an opportunity of examining it. I however got an account of what was discovered from the foreman on the farm, and I was able personally to inspect a small portion which had not been disturbed. The barrow had been 60ft in diameter and 6ft high, and was made of earth and chalk. Near the centre a deposit of burnt bones was met with, over which some large flints were placed; this was at a depth of 4ft, and as a great quantity of burnt earth was observed immediately round the bones, it is probable that the body had been burnt on the spot where the bones were placed. Two unburnt bodies were found on the south side of the mound, with one of which a vessel of pottery was associated. At a distance of 17ft south-south-east of the centre I found the body of a strongly-made man, laid on the right side, with the head to the south and the hands to the knees; he body was placed about 6in above the natural surface. Immediately below the head was the body of a very young child, the bones of which were too much decayed to admit of anything being made out beyond the fact that it was a child’s body which was laid there. Still lower, and on the natural surface, was a patella, a radius, and some other bones of a body, which had been disturbed, probably in the interring of the person who was found buried above. At the centre was a grave, lying northwest and southeast, 7ft by 6½ft and 2½ft deep. On the bottom at the north side was the body of a strongly-made man in the middle period of life, whose head…was to the south, but my informant could not remember on which side the body was laid; at the head was a ‘food vessel’, which, from the fragments that have been preserved, must have been a rudely-made one with unusually thick walls.”
Folklore
Although antiquarians and archaeologists such as Elgee, Grinsell, Gutch, Johnson and others each tell (in their own respective ways) that Elf Howe “testifies to a widespread belief in goblin-haunted barrows” — albeit in the linguistic ‘elven’ of the Scandinavian invaders — we appear to have lost the original tale behind this fairy-haunted site.
References:
Greenwell, William, British Barrows, Clarendon Press: Oxford 1877.
