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 the village of Midgley, high above the A646 Halifax-to-Todmorden road, travel west along the moorland road until you reach the sharp-ish bend in the road, with steep wooded waterfall to your left and the track up to the disused quarry of Foster Clough. Go up the Foster Clough track for 100 yards and, when you reach the gate in front of you, go over it but follow the line of the straight walling uphill by the stream-side (instead of following the path up the quarries) all the way to the top. Here you’ll see the boundary stone of Churn Milk Joan.
Archaeology & History
The present large standing stone you see before you isn’t prehistoric. However, the small broken piece on the ground by its side may have been its prehistoric predecessor; and there is certainly something of an archaic nature here — albeit a contentious one — as we find old cup-markings cut into its eastern face.
Two ‘cup-marks’ on eastern face
The upright is roughly squared and faces the cardinal points. It was described in Mr Heginbottom’s (1977) unpublished survey on Calderdale rock art, where he described there being a few cup-markings inscribed on its east- and south-facing edges, some of which may be prehistoric — though they would obviously have had to have been carved upon the upright stone when it still lay earth-fast. However, we must posit the the notion (unless some of you have better ideas) that the tradition of etching cup-marks onto rocks was still occurring in this part of Yorkshire until the late Middle Ages, as this stone was, as we know from boundary records, only placed upright to mark the meeting of the three boundaries of Wadsworth, Hebden Royd and Sowerby.
Churn Milk Joan’s other name, Saville’s Low, originates from the great Saville family who owned great tracts of land across the region in the fourteenth century, possibly when the Churn Milk Joan we see today was created. The word “lowe” may derive from the old word meaning, “moot or gathering place,” which this great stone probably served as due to its siting at the junction of the three townships.*
Folklore
In modern times the stone has become a focus for a number of local pagans and New Agers who visit and ‘use’ the site in their respective ways at certain times of the day, albeit estranged (ego-bound) from the original mythic nature of the site.
The name of the stone comes from an old legend about a milk-maid named Joan who, whilst carrying milk across the moors between Luddenden and Pecket Well, got caught in a blizzard and froze to death. When her body was found many days later, the stone we see here today was erected to commemorate the spot where she died. Although such a scenario is quite likely on these hills, as Andy Roberts (1992) said,
“Considering the sheer amount of sites with similar legends this explanation is unlikely to be true and we should looker deeper for the meaning behind Churn Milk Joan, to be found in its positioning in the landscape and ourindividual feelings about it.” [see profiles for the Two Lads and the Lad o’ Crow Hill sites)
The monolith’s other title, Churnmilk Peg, is the name given to an old hag who is said to be the guardian of nut thickets. How this female sprite came to find her abode upon these high hills is somewhat of an enigma, but it was first stated as such in an article by Andy Roberts (1989) in “Northern Earth Mysteries” magazine. E.M. Wright (1913) noted this supernatural creature in her work on folk dialect, describing it as a West Yorkshire elemental who, along with another one known as Melsh Dick:
“are wood-demons supposed to protect soft, unripe nuts from being gathered by naughty children, the former being wont to beguile her leisure by smoking a pipe.”
Another legend of the stone tells how it is said to spin round three times on New Year’s Eve when it hears the sound of the midnight bells at St. Michael’s church (St. Michael was a dragon-slayer) at Mytholmroyd in the valley below. Another piece of folklore tells that coins used to be left in a small hollow at the very top of the stone which, according to Haslem (1981), was “a gift to the spirit world, to bring luck” – a common folk motif. It may equally originate from the custom of it as a plague stone. This tradition of leaving coins atop of the stone is still perpetuated by some local folk.
Mr Haslem also made some interesting remarks about the nature of Churn Milk Joan standing as a boundary stone, representing something which stands not just as a physical boundary, but as a boundary point between this and the Other- or spirit world. In folklore, streams and rivers commonly carry this theme. But here on Midgley Moor, as a standing stone at the junction of three boundaries, we may be looking at the place as an omphalos: a centre point from which the manifold worlds unfold. (see Almscliffe Crags, the Ashlar Chair and the Hitching Stone)
The other motif here, of milk and snow [both white], have been speculated to represent power of the sun at midwinter, and geomantically we find the position of the stone in the landscape exemplifying this: it stands midway in the moorland scenery facing south, the direction of solar power, yet is bounded as an equinox marker from east and west. The winter tales it has nestled around it are merely complementary occult augurs of its more wholesome elements at this point in the hills.
There is however, another much more potent element that has not been conveyed about the site and its folklore—and one which has more authenticity and primary animistic quality. Regardless of ‘Joan’ or ‘Peg’ being the elemental preserved in the landscape title, the ‘churning’ in its name and the ‘spinning’ of the stone in myth at the end of one year and the start of the next at New Year, are folk memories of traditional creation myths that speak of the cyclical seasons endlessly perpetuated year after year after year, in what Mircea Eliade (1954) called the ‘myth of the eternal return.’ As season follows season in the folk myths of our ancestors, everything related to the natural world: a world inhabited (as it still is) by feelings and intuitions learned from an endless daily encounter, outdoors, with the streams, hills, gales, snow and fires. Their entire cosmology, as with aboriginal people the world over, saw the cycles of the year as integral parts of their daily lives. Here, at Churn Milk Joan with its central landscape position along an ancient boundary, the churning and turning of the year was commemorated and mythologized year after year after year; with maybe even the Milky Way being part of the ‘milk’ in its title, from which, in the shamanistic worlds that were integral to earlier society, the gods themselves emerged and came down to Earth.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Eliade, Mircea, The Myth of the Eternal Return, Bollingen 1954.
Haslem, Michael, “Churn Milk Joan: A Boundary Stone on Midgley Moor,” in Wood and Water, 1:8, 1980.
Heginbottom, J.A., “The Prehistoric Rock Art of Upper Calderdale and the Surrounding Area,” Yorkshire Archaeology Society 1977.
Ogden, J.H., “A Moorland Township: Wadsworth in Ancient Times,” Proceedings of the Halifax Antiquarian Society, 1904.
Robert, Andy, “Our Last Meeting,” in NEM 37, 1989.
Robert, Andy, Ghosts and Legends of Yorkshire, Jarrold: Sheffield 1992.
Wright, Elizabeth Mary, Rustic Speech and Folk-Lore, Oxford University Press 1913.
* The great stone at the cente of the Great Skirtful of Stones, Burley Moor, which previously stood at the centre of the Grubstones Circle, was just such a moot stone. Upon it is carved the words “This is Rumble’s Lawe”.
Go northwest along the country lane running between High Utley (on the outskirts of Keighley) and Steeton known as Hollins Lane, which then becomes Hollins Bank Lane. You’ll see the fine castle building as you go along, known simply as The Tower arising from the top of the tree-line. As you get to the driveway leading down to the Tower, a less impressive farm building is on the other side of the road, known as Hollins Bank Farm. On the right-hand side of this house is an old overgrown road. Walk along here to the end, going into the field immediately left where a small group of stones can be seen halfway up the field by the tree. You’re here!
Archaeology & History
First discovered one sunny afternoon on April 7, 2010, in the company of Buddhist scholar Steve Hart, this is a really curious carving, inasmuch as it seems to have been deliberately carved around what may be curious naturally eroded cup-forms. You’ll have to visit it to see what I mean. They’re a bit odd. Almost too perfect as cups to be the ancient eroded ones we’re used to looking at. But this aside….
…and againDragon Stone, looking NW
It’s a lovely flat stone, with curvaceous lines running across the middle and edges and into cup-markings. Although some of the cups give an impression of being natural, others have the authentic-looking ring to them, with at least one of them possessing a near-complete ring encircling it (as you can faintly see in the close-up photo here). There are at least 19 cup-markings on this stone, and four main ‘lines’ running roughly in north-south directions, with the cups interspersed between them. At the top (north) end of the rock, separated by a crack, the lines stop and we just have some cup-markings. The crack in the stone may have been functional here.
Although graphically different, the carving has a similar feel in design (for me at least) to that of the Wondjina Stone at Rivock Edge, on the other side of the Aire Valley a couple of miles east of here — though this newly found carving is in a better state of preservation. The small scatter of rocks around it seem to have been unearthed or moved recently by the land-owner (who aint keen on you looking on his land, so be careful) and the good state of preservation may be that they were only unearthed sometime this century. We must also keep in consideration that the lines that run across the surface of this stone are water-lines and may be more the result of Nature’s hand than humans. It’s obvious that some human intervention has occurred here, but it may be difficult to ascertain the precise degree of affectation between the two agencies.
Close-up of cups & lines
According to the archaeological record-books there are no carvings here, but another simple cup-marked stone accompanies this more extravagant serpentine design just a few yards away; a simple cup-marked stone may be seen at the top of the hill; and the faint Currer Woods carving can be found 0.68 miles (1.09km) due west of here, on the other side of the small valley. Other outcrop stones scatter the fields and slopes here, some of which still need checking to see whether or not further carvings exist.
…And for those who may bemoan my seemingly romantic title of the carving: remember! — close by in Steeton township, between the years 1562 and 1797, there was an old field-name known well to local folk, of “one parcel of arable land in town field called Drakesyke, 3 acres”, i.e., the dragon’s stream or dyke. (Gelling 1988; Smith 1956)
References:
Clough, John, History of Steeton, S. Billows: Keighley 1886.
Gelling, Margaret, Signposts to the Past, Phillimore: Chichester 1988.
Smith, A.H., English Place-Names Elements – 2 volumes, Cambridge University Press 1956.
Go through the village of Stanbury, past the last of the two reservoirs until you’re on the western edge of Ponden. Stop and look up the slopes to your south. This spot was recently found and photographed by Richard Stroud: a curious-looking mound with all the hallmarks of being a forgotten tumulus. We’ve gotta check it out properly though!
Folklore
Although not in the archaeological records (not too unusual in Yorkshire it seems), the site does have some literary references and some all-too-common folklore motifs. Perusing my library for info about another nearby site (the Cuckoo Stones), I found the following said of this place in a rare book by James Whalley called The Wild Moor (1869, pp.103):
“It appears that some hills, as well as dales…have silvery names. There is a hill which is on the right hand on the way from Ponden House to Crow Hill Moor, which is distinguished by the beautiful designation of ‘Silver Hill.’ The hill is surrounded by a wall (I suppose to guard the treasure) and its surface is adorned with trees. Grey-headed men living on the borders of Crow Hill and Lancashire Moors affirm that during the Scotch rebellion here was deposited a large chest of silver, which was hid in the hill. It would appear as if the chest of silver is still there!”
This tradition was echoed a decade later by J. Horsfall Turner, and then again by Halliwell Sutcliffe in 1899, who reckoned the “vast treasure was said to have been buried during the ’45 rebellion,” adding how “the fields which climb this hill were well tilled aforetime through being constantly turned over in search of the treasure” – but nowt was ever found.
An additional bit of folklore tells of two spirits nearby: one of a man; another of a fiery barrel — either a remnant of earlier solar folk traditions hereby, or perhaps just an earthlight. One of these (the fiery barrel) rolled down the hill nearby; whereby the ghost of the man walked by the hillock along the track from Ponden House a little further east.
References:
Horsfall-Turner, J., Haworth Past and Present, J.S. Jowett: Brighouse 1879.
Sutcliffe, Halliwell, By Moor and Fell in West Yorkshire, T. Fisher Unwin: London 1899.
Takes a bitta getting to this spot, but it’s worth the effort! Make a day of it and walk up here via the little-known Cuckoo Stones monoliths. From here the walk gets steeper! Follow the footpath from the standing stones, uphill, to the legendary Wuthering Heights building of Bronte-fame a half-mile ahead of you. Then walk immediately up the slope at the side of the derelict house higher onto the moor (there’s no real footpath to follow) until the moorland levels out. From here, look west and walk that way for a few hundred yards where you’ll be seeing a large rock outcrop ahead of you. That’s where you’re heading! (if you reach the triangulation pillar, take the small path from there along the top of the moor towards this large rock outcrop)
Archaeology & History
Alcomden’s Altar Stone
To those of you who like a bitta wilderness, or healthy normal people I suppose, this is a stunning place! Even though there’s little by way of archaeology here — save the usual expectations of a few flints and arrowheads — its geomancy, its position in the landscape, makes it excel as a once important ritual site for our ancestors in not-so-distant centuries. Although local tradition gave these great rocks a prehistoric pedigree, the archaeological record doesn’t say as much — but that doesn’t really mean much up here. We’ve found a singular Bronze Age cairn on the level at Middle Moor Flat 400 yards northwest (not in the record books), some prehistoric walling on the flat east of here (not in the record books), so a lot more attention is needed hereby to see what more may be hiding in this rocky heathland area.
The main feature amidst this extensive scattering of rocks is the large rocking stone, said to weigh six- or seven-tons, resting upon other glacial deposits. The rock itself can be made to rock very slightly. It was described in Lewis’ Topographical Dictionary as a
“cromlech, an evident druidical remain, (which) consists of one flat stone, weight about six tons, placed horizontally upon two huge upright blocks.”
But the placement here was done by Nature and not humans — making it much more important to our ancestors. This was a site for solace, for ritual and to commune with the gods themselves. A few visits to this place show this quite clearly — unless you’re unable to relax that is! It’s a place I wanna spend more time working with, as the mythic history around these stones feels strong, despite their absence from written records.
The ‘altar’ resting on rocksAlcomden’s “altar”
The druidic sentiments espoused by Lewis were all but echoed by our otherwise sober historian, J. Horsfall Turner, in his history of Haworth (1879), where he describes the Alcomden Stones as “the remains of a Druid’s Altar.” On top of the main ‘altar stone’ are what could be ascribed as worn cup-markings, but it seems they’re Nature’s handiwork once again; though this wouldn’t deny them as having some significance to our ancestors. A number of other boulders amidst this mass of rocks also have what seem like cup-markings, but none of them can be said with any certainty to have been carved by people. Indeed, the entirety of this legendary rock outcrop seems to have been created solely by the spirits of Nature.
View of Earth, from Alcomden
It was first described as ‘Alconley’ in 1371, then in the 1379 Poll Tax returns as ‘Halcom’, the etymology of which is difficult. Al- is a cliff or rock, many of which occur here; den is certainly a valley, over which we look to the northeast (to Ponden Kirk, 500 yards away); but the central element of ‘com‘ is the greatest puzzle. Blakeborough (1911) tells of the old Yorkshire word ‘con’ — found in the 1371 spelling — meaning “to scan, or observe critically,” which one can certainly apply here in a topographical sense, i.e., “observation stones above a valley.” It’s simple, succinct, and makes sense!
Folklore
As Elizabeth Southwart (1923) rightly said,
“Our forefathers, instinct and imagination more highly developed than knowledge, peopled their woods with fairies and their valleys with ghosts. On the high, wind-swept spaces they built their altars to Unknown Gods.”
Turner’s 1913 drawing
And such she thought was done at this “heap of rocks called Oakenden Stones.” It seems likely, as this place is superb for ritual magick and meditative systems. But all we have are the repeats of numerous old historians, from Whiteley Turner (1913) and his namesake J. Horsfall, to James Whalley, J.W. Parker and more, who recorded what the old locals said: that is was a place of the druids. There may be a grain of truth in it somewhere…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Blakeborough, Richard, Wit, Character, Folklore and Customs of the North Riding of Yorkshire, W. Rapp: Saltburn 1911.
Parker, J.W., Guide to the Bronte Country, J.W. Parker: Haworth n.d. (c.1971)
Southwart, Elizabeth, Bronte Moors and Villages: From Thornton to Haworth, John Lane Bodley Head: London 1923.
Turner, J. Horsfall, Haworth, Past and Present, Hendon Mill: Nelson 1879.
Turner, Whiteley, A Spring-Time Saunter round and about Bronte Lane, Halifax Courier 1913.
Along the Brighouse to Mirfield A644 road, a half-mile east of M62’s junction 25 on Wakefield Road, note the woodland on your left-hand side, above the walling. Although on allegedly private land, you can approach by hopping over the wall by the main road into the woods. Wander up the slope until it levels out and, just at the edge of the tree-line, past the brilliant overgrown folly amidst a mass of rhododendrons, you’ll see the denuded edges of this earthwork. Though you might need a bitta patience seeking it out…
Archaeology & History
Very first sketch of this site (John Watson, 1775)
The remains of this low earthwork is found on the private land of Kirklees Hall and appointment is supposed to be made to explore, both this and the more famous Robin Hood’s Grave, a few hundred yards away. But if you can’t be bothered with that and find this little-known earthwork, you’ll see that it’s roughly squared in shape, though pretty overgrown. In Bernard Barnes’ survey (1982) he described it as a “square or five sided enclosure, 2-3 acres in size, with bank and external ditch”, wondering whether it was used to enclosure cattle and stretching its possible origin between the Iron Age to the medieval.
Although the classical Roman archaeologist Ian Richmond (1925) believed the site to be from that period, the archaeologist J.J. Keighley thought that the site was “more likely to be Iron Age than Roman.” He wrote:
“The earthwork in Kirklees Park is a square or five-sided enclosure with bank and external ditch… The site lies on Richmond’s trans-Pennine route. According to Armitage and Montgomerie, the earthwork is 0.5 hectares in area, but it is actually nearer 0.8 to 1.2 hectares. They compare its construction with the fort at Wincobank (South Yorkshire), stating that the bank on the counterscarp when excavated, revealed “a very rudely composed wall of undressed dry stone.”
Earlier local writers such as John Watson (1775) — whose early sketch of the site is reproduced above — and others also opted for the Roman date. But, unless you’re a bit of an earthwork fanatic, this site may not be too much your cuppa tea. If you are gonna check this out though, make sure you check out Robin Hood’s old tomb in the trees not far away. Very odd.
References:
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Merseyside County Council & University of Liverpool 1982.
Keighley, J.J., “The Prehistoric Period,” in West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey to AD 1500 (WYMCC: Wakefield 1981).
Richmond, I.A., Huddersfield in Roman Times, Tolson Memorial Museum: Huddersfield 1925.
Watson, John, The History and Antiquities of Halifax, J. Lowndes: London 1775.
It is best approached from the track at the side of Weecher reservoir (site of the destroyed Weecher stone circle) on the east side of Rombalds Moor, where you should follow the natural curve of the track till you reach the tiny hamlet of Faweather where, on your right, just in the garden edge, you’ll see this faded old carving. This has only recently been incorporated into the garden (it used to sit on a small triangle of grass where three old tracks meet), but the people living here seem pleasant enough and will let you look at the carving if you ask.
Archaeology & History
Hedges 1986 drawing
Just off the far-eastern edge of Rombald’s Moor and north of Baildon Moor, this faded cup-marked stone might only be for the real fanatics amongst you! I like it though. Described in Sidney Jackson’s rare Bradford archaeology journal, the site was added to Hedges (1986) survey, and the subsequent Boughey & Vickerman’s (2003) work, neither of whom said much about it. It’s a pretty basic carving though, consisting of several cups and lines that run over the top of the stone, some of which seems to be due to natural weathering — it’s hard to say for sure.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, West Yorkshire Archaeology Service 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, West Yorkshire Metropolitan County Council: Wakefield 1986.
Although there are several routes to this site, for those who are not used to walking or find maps difficult to read [get a life!], it is best approached from the Ilkley side of the moor. Follow the old track that cuts the moor in half past the remains of Graining Head quarry where the moor begins to level out. Once here cut straight east until you find the footpath which, after a while, you will see leads to a wooden seat right in the middle of nowhere. Here is our Badger Stone.
Archaeology & History
An eroded but quite excellent cup-and-ring stone — one of the very best on Ilkley Moor — comprising nearly a hundred cups, ten rings, what seems to be a half-swastika design, plus a variety of other odd motifs. It’s one of the best carvings on the entire moor and has been written about by many folk over the years. First described in an early essay on cup-and-ring stones by J. Romilly Allen (1879) — who must have visited it in poor light, as some elements of the carving weren’t noticed — he described it as a “sculptured stone near Grainings Head”, saying:
“This stone…is a block of gritstone 12ft long by 7ft 6in broad, by 4ft high. The largest face slopes at an angle of about 40° to the horizon, and on it are carved nearly fifty cups, sixteen of which are surrounded with single concentric rings. At the west end of the stone are a group, three cups with double rings and radial grooves. At the other end, near the top, is a curious pattern formed of double grooves, and somewhat resembling the “swastika” emblem… At the highest part of the stone is a rock basin 8in deep and 9in wide. On the vertical end of the stone are five cut cups, three of which have single rings. This is one of the few instances of cup and ring marks occurring on a vertical face of rock.”
Badger Stone on 1910 OS-map
The title “badger” dates back to at least medieval times when, as the Yorkshire historian Arthur Raistrick (1962) explained, the word represented “a corn dealer, corn miller or miller’s man.” It is likely that this traditional title goes much further back, probably into prehistory, as grain was one of the earliest forms of trade. Very close to this sacred old stone are place-names verifying this, like Grainings Head and Green Gates. A little higher upon the moor is the twelfth century Cowper’s Cross (which used to have cup-markings etched upon it) where, tradition tells, a market was held that replaced an older one close by.
The Badger Stone carvingClose-up of cup-and-rings
Our Badger Stone rests beside the prehistoric track which Eric Cowling termed “Rombald’s Way” (after the legendary giant, Rombald, who lived with his old wife upon these hills): an important prehistoric route running across the mid-Pennines. This ancient route runs east-west, traditionally the time of year when agricultural needs are greatest at the equinoxes. This may have been the time when any ancient grain traders met here. (In modern times a number of archaeologists have emphasized such routes as “trade routes”: a notion that derives from the modern religion of Free Market Economics in tandem with the rise of Industrialism and social Darwinism, much more than the actuality of them as simple pathways or means of accessible movement).
There are accounts from other places in Yorkshire about these badger men. We find a number of other “badger” stones, gates, ways, stoops and crosses on our Yorkshire hills. One of them in North Yorkshire, wrote Raistrick (1962), “is an ancient trade way.” In Richmond, North Yorkshire, around the time of the autumn equinox, Badger men from across the Dales followed the old routes over the hills into town, held annual festivities and sold their grain. (see Smith 1989; Speight 1897) It is perhaps possible that our old Badger Stone would have been a site where some form of indigenous British Demeter was revered.
Drawing of Badger Stone carving
Some parts of Badger Stone have what could be deemed as primitive human images (anthropomorphic) mainly on the northwestern side of the carving, emerging from the Earth itself. And certainly amidst he same portion we have a very distinct solar symbol, very much like the ones found at Newgrange and, for that matter, many other parts of the world.
Some New Age folk have given the fertility element to the Badger Stone a deeper status, using imagination as an aid to decode these old carvings. When feminist New-Age writer Monica Sjoo visited Badger Stone she described it as “erotic”, with the carvings giving her a distinct impression of “vulvas” and she also thought orgies of sorts had been enacted here. (Billingsley & Sjoo, 1993) The vulva imagery is a well-known idea to explain cup-and-rings and in some cases this will be valid; but when I passed an illustration of this rock-art to a number of people (all women), there was not a vulva to be mentioned — merely the OM symbol, sperm entering the egg, a snail, a bicycle, a willy, a paw-print, eyes, a face, a tadpole, cartoon breasts, the rear end of a dog, grapes, letters, numbers, ears and a snake! Awesome stuff! Take a look at the design yourself and see what you can see in it. Answers on a postcard please! (The dilemma of making specific interpretations of these carvings is that we tend to approach them with dominant ego perspectives, many of them reflecting little more than our own beliefs or search for identity, imposing unresolved journeys and conflicts on that which we encounter, as with the above case.)
As with prehistoric rock-art in general, they are a number of things: functional, ritual, history, spirit; different at each and every site. As if to exemplify this at Badger Stone, note how the detailed carvings have been executed mainly on the southern face of the stone. The northern face has little if anything to show on it. It would suggest therefore, that this stone had some mythic relationship with events during daylight hours. But we have to be careful here…
At sunrise on a good morning, we note how the eastern edges of this stone show up very clearly indeed. If Nature’s conditions are damp and wet (as they tend to be each morning on the hills), the visible outline of these cup-and-rings show up very clearly indeed. Oddly, as the sun then passes through the daytime sky each and every day on its cyclical movement, the petroglyphic content becomes a little less visible unless the stone is wet. Indeed at sun-high (midday period) the carving doesn’t show up as well as it did in the morning light. And we find the same characteristic as the sun goes to set in the west: where that part of the carved stone shows up very clearly again — much clearer than during full daytime hours. If rain has fallen, the glyphs stand out very clearly indeed.
As all cultures imbued the natural world with animistic, living qualities, it seems probable that these periods of the day (sunrise and sunset) were significant at this particular carving. It may be, very simply, that the Badger Stone “came to life” with the sunrise and its mythic nature was alive during this period; whereas with many other carvings (both on these moors and elsewhere in Britain) their strong mythic associations related to the northern Land of the Dead. But then, I could be talking bullshit!
The Badger Stone is also a strong contender for it being a painted stone. Many petroglyphs like this in other cultures were ceremonially coloured-in using lichens and other plants dyes at certain times of the day or year, relating specifically to important mythic relationships between the people and the spirit of the rock at such places. This very probably occurred here.
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, “The Prehistoric Rock Sculptures of Ilkley,” in Journal of the British Archaeological Association, volume 35, 1879.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Billingsley, John & Sjoo, Monica, “Monica Sjoo in West Yorkshire,” in Northern Earth Mysteries, no.53, 1993.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John, The Carved Rocks on Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Raistrick, Arthur, Green Tracks on the Pennines, Dalesman: Clapham 1962.
Smith, Julia, Fairs, Feasts and Frolics: Customs and Traditions in Yorkshire, Smith Settle: Otley 1989.
Speight, Harry, Romantic Richmondshire, Elliot Stock: London 1897.
Take the road from Ilkley town centre up towards the White Wells and keep following it along until it curves up and onto the moor itself and becomes a rocky dirt-track. Go up here, past the old quarries (left) until you hit the footpath which runs east (left) onto the flat level of the moorland. Follow this footpath along for literally half-a-mile, where a footpath runs up onto the tops of the moorland. Go up here for 100 yards and you’ll see a small standing stone by the right-hand side of the footpath; on the left, into the moorland about 20 yards away, this carving is to be found!
Archaeology & History
This is an excellent, archetypal cup-and-ring stone carving and is in a very good state of preservation. Found just a few yards away from the aptly-named Pitchfork Stone, the carving here on a large single stone mainly comprises of a double cup-and-ring. A couple of other possible outlying cup-marks can be seen: one just below the double-ring, and the other towards the top-end of the rock. It was first reported by Stuart Feather in the Bradford Archaeology Group’s journal in 1961, then listed in the surveys of Hedges (1986) and his followers.
Carving 257, looking NE
When Michala Potts, Dave Hazell and I we visited this carving the other day, some halfwit had been up here in the not-too-distant past and, as with some of the carvings on the moors north of Ilkley, had daubed some paint or oily resin onto the carvings themselves to specifically highlight aspects of the carved rock (not one part of the uncarved stone had anything on it). We aint quite sure exactly what the substance is that’s been daubed onto the carvings (it aint ordinary paint), but seems like an oil or industrial substance. And, whoever’s done this, obviously seems to have some knowledge of the rock art they’re painting over: they certainly have good grid-references and enjoy walking the hills. This aint just some idiot/s into vandalizing the carvings for the sake of it, nor the whim of some airy-fairy New-Ager. Whoever’s done this (and it’s been done on other cup-and-rings around this locale) have deliberately set out to locate and paint over specific carvings — a number of them off-path — with the intention it would seem to highlight them for photographic enhancement. So — whichever retard has done this, might I suggest that you keep your industrial waste where it belongs: either in your own house, or preferably up your mother’s arse, where you obviously first emerged from. If anyone knows who is doing this to the carvings round here, please email me (anonymously if necessary) with all relevant info. Any such communications regarding this matter will be kept strictly confidential.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John, The Carved Rocks on Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
