Healing Well (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NO 4032 3025
Archaeology & History
This old water supply had no direct ‘holy’ nature, despite its proximity to the cathedral, the old market cross and St Clement’s Well some fifty yards away! Most odd. A much more mundane story lies behind this long lost water source. The Dundee historian William Kidd (1901) told us,
“When the public wells were erected, about the year 1749, to supply the town with water from the Lady-well reservoir at foot of Hilltown, one was placed on the High Street, on the east side of the Cross, and was called the Cross Well.”
It didn’t have too long a life either—much like the old Market Cross, for,
“In the year 1777 that quaint structure was demolished. The platform and octagonal tower were carted away as rubbish, the least decayed stones being selected to be used in other buildings. The stone shaft, also, was preserved, and placed beside the Old Steeple. With the demolition of the Cross, the Cross Well was cleared away from the High Street, but, as water was an essential to the people, the well was re-erected behind the Town House in St. Clement’s Lane. In that situation it remained for nearly one hundred years, when, being rendered unnecessary by the introduction of the Lintrathen water supply, it was also demolished, along with the old buildings in the Vault and St. Clement’s Lane, to make room for the additions to the Town House.”
References:
Colville, A., Dundee Delineated, A. Colville: Dundee 1822.
This curiously-named old water source may have an equally curious history behind it – albeit forgotten. Shown on the 1854 OS-map of the area and giving its s name to Dudwell Lane, we can see how an old path led from the road to the well and nowhere else.
It’s the word “dud” that holds our attention here; for if we hasten to the immensely erudite Joseph Wright (1900) in his gigantic survey of northern dialect, we find that the word relates to “a rag, piece of cloth; pl. clothes, esp. shabby, ragged, or dirty clothing.” This is echoed in another Yorkshire dialect work by Morris (1892) who told that the word meant “clothes (or) rags.” Several other Victorian writers tell us variations on this meaning (one adds old shoes to the list!), but in all instances it relates to dud being a rag, whereas the plural duds are rags or scruffy clothes. Naathen (to use another old dialect word), those of us who know a thing or two abaat olde wells are very very familiar with their association to old rags that were hanged on the surrounding trees as offerings to the spirits of the water—the genius loci—to aid in the hope or desire of something, or merely as respect to the waters for their beneficient properties. (this sometimes occurred ritually at set times in the calendar)
Dud Well on 1854 OS-map
The Dud Well was obviously of considerable local repute, for just a couple of years after it was shown on the earliest OS-map, a local bailiff called Samuel Rhodes built The Dudwell house close to the waters, which he named “in honour of the magnificent and never-failing spring of pure, bright, sparkling water in the wells close by.”
There is a possible alternative meaning to the word dud, which is that some dood called ‘Duda’ left his name here! This seems much more speculative and unlikely than the use of a local dialect term. Hopefully a local historian amongst you might perhaps be able to find out more.
References:
Morris, M.C.F., Yorkshire Folk-Talk, Henry Frowde: London 1892.
Wright, Joseph, English Dialect Dictionary – volume 2, Henry Frowde: London 1900.
Sacred Well (lost): OS Grid reference – SW 4614 3259
Archaeology & History
It’s difficult to know what to make of this site: whether it was merely a healing well or whether it possessed greater esoteric functions. In all likelihood it was the latter as many so-called “wishing wells” in earlier centuries possessed oracular attributes. It’s also difficult to work out precisely where this well happened to be, as we know little about it apart from the singular reference of Quiller-Couch (1894), who told simply that,
“There was also a wishing-well in the Bone Valley; it is now only a small stream, and is not used for purposes of divination.”
Hidden spring on 1878 mapLine of wells on 1908 map
There were a number of wells along the Bone Valley road highlighted on the early OS-map, all of which may have been known to Quiller-Couch at the time, three of which appeared to have streams emerging from them back then: one just above Bosoljack (SW 4556 3319) and one below it (SW 4571 3292), each just off the roadside; but then a slightly more enticing one is hidden a little further down the lane and up the tinier lane to Higher Boskinning, in the trees on the right (east). Shown on the first OS-map as a simple “spring”, a small stream runs from it and then into the larger Bone Valley Brook which runs towards Penzance. The solace and quietude of this spot would seem much more favourable than the other two…. but my impressions may be wrong. It would be good if someone could find this old place…
References:
Quiller-Couch, M. & L., The Holy Wells of Cornwall, C.J. Clark: London 1894.
Russell, Vivien, West Penwith Survey, Cornwall Archaeological Society 1971.
Acknowledgements: Big thanks for use of the early edition OS-map in this site profile, Reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
Holy Well (lost): OS Grid reference – SW 4025 3062
Archaeology & History
Just over a mile northwest of the superb Sancreed Well, we find documentary evidence from 1778 recording the field-name of Chapel Well Close here, although there seems to be no remaining spring or well and nothing is shown on the early OS-maps. Official records define it as a “medieval well” and speculate that it may have been associated with the nearby Boscence Chapel and possibly dedicated to St. Winwaloe.
References:
Anon., The Church and Parish of Sancreed in the County of Cornwall, Brewer: Sancreed c.1960.
The history of the site is scanty to say the least. It first seems to have been recorded when the Ordnance Survey lads came here in the 1840s, although they left no record as to why the site was given such a dedication. It’s a decidedly pre-christian title as the name “old Wife” is usually indicative in northern counties as being related to the primal Earth deity of northern England and lowland Scotland (when we reach the Highlands and Ireland, She becomes known—amongst other names—as the cailleach). However, apart from its name we have no additional information. Neither the holy wells writer Edna Whelan (1989; 2001), nor hydrolatry researcher Graeme Chappell were been able to find anything about the place in their own researches. And so we must go on name alone…
The waters bubble up into a small stone-lined chamber with the words Nattie Fontein carved into the lintel. This is something of a mystery in itself, for, as Edna Whelan (1989) told,
“it would be most unusual for the word fonten to be used for a spring in North Yorkshire: ‘keld’ is the local word. The rather roughly inscribed word may be a corruption of Fons Natalis, the name of a Celtic water nymph.”
Graeme Chappell (2000) meanwhile, noticed in a visit to the site in June 1999,
“that the N and A in “NATTIE” are carved in such a way that the word could be read as “MATTIE FONTEIN” perhaps meaning “Mother Fountain”. This might then be another reference to the Old Wife?”
He then goes on to note how,
“the latin word ‘natalis‘ meaning ‘birth’ and its link with the roman Festival ‘Dies Natalis Sol Invictus‘ (day of the birth of the unconquered sun) which took place on the 25th December. Natalis also gave rise to the welsh word ‘Nadolig‘ – meaning Christmas.”
This Yuletide element has an intriguing relationship with the name of the well; for to the west of Yorkshire’s borders into Cumbria there was annual gathering known as Old Wives’ Saturday that took place on the first Saturday after Christmas, or first Saturday of the New Year in a person’s house or inn, where a feast was had to bring in the New Year; but there is no known written lore of such a tradition here.
Nowadays the old tradition of hanging rags on the trees surrounding the well as offerings to the spirit of the place (known as memaws in parts of Yorkshire, and clooties in Scotland) has become a regular practice of those who hold such sites as sacred in their own way. Whelan mentioned seeing memaws here in the 1908s, but the Northern Antiquarian contributor Jon Barker told that, “The rags are a comparatively recent addition to the well, it is not a tradition there. When I used to go in the ’60s therewere no rags.”
On an even more curious note: very recently (from when this profile was written), the Northern Antiquarian contributor and photographer James Elkington visited Old Wives’ Well for the first time. It was a grey overcast day and when he arrived here, there was a woman ahead of him at the head of the well. I’ll let him tell the rest of it in his own words:
The Old Wives Well, Stape (James Elkington)Old Wives Well at Stape (James Elkington)
“In front of the well was a lady dressed in what looked like a white nighty, she had her back to me. There was a candle lit nearby, and her hands were in the water moving slowly about like she was washing something. She had long dark shoulder length hair. As I was about 25 feet away I was sure she wasn’t aware of me, and I thought it would make a good photograph. I quietly put my bag on the ground and got my camera out, and looked up and…she was gone! I couldn’t have taken my eye off her for more than 5 or 6 seconds. I looked all around and there was no sign of her. Even if she had legged it through the woods I would have seen her. I think it was then that I realized that I may have had ‘an encounter’. I quickly took three pics of the Well and got the hell out of there!”
He rang me once he had regained his senses in a somewhat emotional state and recounted over and over what had just happened. Whether this was a visual manifestation of the genius loci of the we can’t say. But such encounters are not unknown at numerous sacred water sites all over the world. We can only hazard a guess that this is what he was fortunate to encounter.
Just a few hundred yards north is the old Mauley or Malo Cross, which may or may not have had some mythic relationship with our Old Wives…
Healing Well (destroyed): OS Grid reference – TQ 330 827
Also Known as:
Balsamick Well
Archaeology & History
In that typically rambling style beloved of early writers on medicinal springs, Timothy Byfield (1687) narrated the tale of uncovering this well in an almost alchemical discourse. It was located when digging out the cellar of a house near Charles Square in the 1680s. Upon investigation, the waters were found to possess a good quantity of sulphur and a small amount of iron, leading Byfield to proclaim it could cure a whole army of medical disorders, from cleaning out blockages in the alimentary canal, to treating kidney stones, scurvy, ulcers, headaches, migraines and more. If used correctly and in the right amount,
” There is,” he says, “no unwholesome glebe (concretion) or any dangerous mineral or metal (in them) that casts one unhappy ray into this healing fountain.” On the contrary, they set up ‘* such a pretty bustle or ferment in nature that makes gay a well-temper’d Healthy Body.”
In the early days when Spa Wells were in vogue, the Balsamic Well became a competitor to the nearby St Agnes le Clear Well, which is probably the reason why one doctor dissuaded the toffs of the time to avoid it!
The waters possessed a slight vinegar-esque flavour—hence the name. In John MacPherson’s (1871) work, he described it as a “chalybeate well” and despite it having that typical “bituminous scum on it, strange to say,” it yielded “a pleasant aromatic flavour.” The site has long since been covered over.
References:
Byfield, Timothy, A Short and Plain Account of the late-found Balsamick Wells at Hoxdon, London 1687.
Foord, Alfred Stanley, Springs, Streams and Spas of London: History and Association, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1910.
Hembry, Phyllis, The English Spa 1560-1815, Athlone Press: London 1990.
MacPherson, John, Our Baths and Wells, MacMillan: London 1871.
Sunderland, Septimus, Old London Spas, Baths and Wells, John Bale: London 1915.
On the northwest side of the Loch of Boardhouse can still be found a spring of water which was, in bygone times, the abode of the supernatural creature known as the troll or trow. The site is described in local place-name records and is located near the foot of a slope near Westerhouse, from where a small channel of water runs down into the Loch of Boardhouse about forty yards away. When it was last described in the 1960s, all folk memory of its heathen inhabitants had seemingly been forgotten and no folk-tales seem to have been recorded. Thankfully, the Well itself is still shown to exist on modern OS-maps.
This little-known Biblical-sounding spring has apparently long since fallen back to Earth (perhaps there might be some local folk who could find out for certain). Shown on the 1861 Ordnance Survey map as being at the side of the wall in the small copse of trees—immediately east of kirk- place-names and a half-mile north of St Ninian’s Well—it was briefly described by T.C. Ramage’s (1876), who seemed to know nothing of its lore, merely telling us that,
“on Templand farm, close to the wooden bridge over the Cample, there is Moses’ Well, an unusual designation, but which some Knight Templar may have given in remembrance of his toils in Palestine.”
The Templar designation was deemed by Ramage to come from the name of the farm. However, a few years prior to this, the early Scottish place-name surveyors were traversing the area and found from local people how it derived “its name from a Tinker named Moses Marshall who with his family lived near it in a Camp during the time they had the small pox.” The Well was also included in the Morris survey (1982), but without comment. Another Moses Well can be found 44½ miles to the northeast, near Galashiels at NT 4046 4306.
Holy Well (destroyed?): OS Grid Reference – SP 5549 4574
Also Known as:
Stock Well
Archaeology & History
This seemingly lost holy well was first mentioned by John Morton (1712), who told us that it was the source of the River Tove. About eighty years later, John Bridges (1791) wrote that,
“In this town was formerly a grange to the monastery of St Andrews in Northampton; and a spring which riseth near the place where this house stood, still retains the name of Halywell Spring.”
Little else was written of the site until H.C. Smith’s (1933) in-depth overview of the famous Washington family (some dood called George apparently) of Sulgrave, where he echoed John Morton’s words that the River Tove “rises from the spring of Holy Well, near the site of the old Grange of St. Andrew’s Priory.” He told that it was located up Stockwell Lane where an old water-mill was located and “the water for the mill is provided by a large mill-pool fed by a spring known in former times as Holy Well Spring.” Local historian Beeby Thompson (1914) identified the Stock Well as being the later alternative name for our holy one.
References:
Bridges, John, The History and Antiquities of Northamptonshire, D. Price: Oxford 1791.
There’s a minor discrepancy of opinion as to the exact location of this site, so I’ve chosen to go right in-between the positions cited by Leggat (1987): SW 836 433, and Meyrick (1982): SW 838 434.
The site was mentioned by Charles Henderson, who told that around the year 1750 there was a medicinal well at Sunny Corner, known as “Glastonbury Well”. Its waters had the ability to “cure all disorders,” but its reputation was apparently short-lived, which would suggest that its fame beyond local villagers was concurrent to the rise of Spa Wells amongst the upper- classes at that time.
In the Leggats’ (1987) survey, no locals they spoke with had ever heard of the place; but that they “found a spring halfway up the lane adjacent to Sunnyside House which had been used in the past from time immemorial as a domestic water supply to a scattering of local cottages” and wondered if this might have been the long long Glastonbury Well…
References:
Adams, J.H., “The Mediaeval Chapels of Cornwall,” in Journal Royal Institution of Cornwall, volume 3 (new series), 1957.
Henderson, Charles, One Hundred and Nine Parishes of the Four Western Hundreds of Cornwall, Oscar Black: Truro 1955.
Leggat, P.O. & D.V., The Healing Wells: Cornish Cults and Customs, Dyllansow Truran: Redruth 1987.
Meyrick, J., A Pilgrims Guide to the Holy Wells of Cornwall, Falmouth 1982.
