Latest Fieldnotes

Visited April 20, 2013
Planning a day walking in Pitfichie Forest, I checked around to see if there might be any as yet unvisited sites of interest on the way. I hit upon Nether Coullie Stone Circle – a remnant that I had somehow never got around to visiting, just outside Kemnay.

It was a terrific sunny morning and I followed Drew’s notes for my route. I was intially somewhat disoriented as Drew stated that the remaining stone lay ‘just before the wood’. What wood? The trees had been felled and the nearest woodland looked an awful long way away. So the route from the crossroads is now to follow the path west almost to the far boundary of the 2nd field. The toppled stone lies approximately 100 metres into the field in the direction of Bennachie (i.e. north).

Apparently, this may have been a recumbent stone circle. It was reported in the 1870s that this was originally a circle of eight stones, though the recumbent was already missing. It was at this time that the farmer removed all but the two pillars. When the east pillar fell, it was apparently buried, leaving just the west pillar standing. This, too, has now fallen, and is the sole in-situ reminder of what used to be.

Ref: Canmore.

Walked up Beacon Hill to the hillfort today. Was in Hampshire with a friend to visit the Sandham Memorial Chapel (which for me was a deeply affecting experience) and the walk up Beacon Hill afterwards somehow seemed totally fitting.
The car park is just off the A34, my first thought was that the noise from the traffic would detract from the enjoyment of the place. Its a long way up though and the noise soon receded – by the time we reached the hillfort at the top the A34 had diminished and could no longer be heard. As we walked round the ramparts a red kite glided by below us. There is a very big sky up there – wonderful cloud formations today and, needless to say, amazing views. Highclere Castle can be clearly seen and the grave of the Fifth Earl of Carnavon aka George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert (Adventurer, Explorer, Archaeologist) who with Howard Carter discovered the tomb of Tutankhamun – is on the edge of the hillfort surrounded by railings.
An amazing place!

A decade ago, whilst doing a 10 week archaeology evening course at the local college, we came to this barrow one evening.

I remember it’s near some properties, but I’d forgotten that it sits at the bottom of someone’s actual garden (although sloping upwards from house to hill). The mound and house sit next to a byway, so approach is easy.

As the owner was busy in the garden, I thought I’d ask if he minded me observing/taking pictures. After a few polite queries about why I was interested we struck up conversation about the barrow’s history. I think he had to check out that I wasn’t some ‘treasure hunter’, as he said nothing of value was in it – which struck me as kinda sad to have to worry that I might be up to no good (I’d have done the same, but....). Said I was welcome to see it closer. (unfortunately a few panoramic shots didn’t work on my cheap old camera, but got a couple, so...).

Anyway, nice guy, and a brilliant barrow; quite enigmatic in it’s current location, with the trees adding to the drama somehow.

Wish I had one in my garden.....better than fairies....

Into strong Spring winds
Upon pinnacled peaks –
Laughing and alive

[Haiku on Bera Bach]

You wouldn’t suspect much to be here, really, but this roughly rectangular patch of heath has some surprises. Despite passing nearby here on a regular basis for most of my life, I never thought of stopping to explore. Maybe I didn’t consider it ‘important’ or ‘showy’ enough? It’s hardly Avebury now is it..

Closer examination of the nearby locality reveals close proximity of the Angles Way, a very close Roman road, and several other tasty morsels.

Anyway, I parked half way along the road which passes through Broome, at the sign for the fishing pits, and walked off to the left (SW) corner. Here I stumbled across a small barrow, which didn’t appear noted on my map, though has a identification board by it. About a third of it disappears under the fences of some back gardens -(got me wondering how much can/do these people dig on their side when gardening – a bit of blood, fish & bone...and grave goods!).

Then headed up the east side of the heath past the large Neolithic enclosure, which is fairly undecipherable under bushes and scrub, but large enough to note. Walking back towards the middle of the heath, brought me to a larger round barrow, and just beyond that is the long barrow. This runs NE-SW, with the NE end being easier to view. Apparently it aligns to the centre of the nearby enclosure, though it is hard to fathom. There seems to be a slope down (to a ditch?) which runs parallel with the SE side, which if viewed from a way away gives the impression that the long barrow is very large indeed, or sitting on a great mound.

Well, well....I’m glad I did check it out, and I feel I may well be back often.

Cleeve Hill has a wealth of Iron Age remains, as well as some possibly earlier monuments. Unfortunately, much of the hill has been badly damaged by limestone quarrying, to build the pretty Cotswolds villages and towns that so attract the tourists. The northwestern part is particularly badly affected, where the quarries have dug straight into the scarp face of the hill. But there is still enough to see, including a rectilinear enclosure that shows up particularly well in today’s light.

The Ring is a small oval enclosure, set on steeply sloping ground. What function it served is unclear, maybe a stock pen or homestead site. The interior has been flattened into a platform for a now-vanished golf tee, but the surrounding bank and ditch are pretty well preserved and clear. An adjacent mound to the east has been tentatively identified as a hut circle, although there is also a possibility that it was a round barrow. The Cotswold Way passes right next to these two sites, so no excuse for not indulging in a brief re-visit. There is a very fine view of Nottingham Hill fort from here as well.

The path then steepens to approach the northern summit of the hill, which has several separate summits, strung across its mile or so of top. Although not the highest, this one provides the best views, as reflected in a topograph. The Malverns and May Hill are clear today, but the Forest of Dean and Wales beyond are reduced to hazy smudges on the horizon. It’s busy here on such a lovely day, golfers, strollers and runners vying for position. I head south, crossing the remains of the Iron Age cross dyke that encircles this part of the hill, following the contour and largely unaffected by the quarries.

The path now hugs the top of the escarpment, with artificially created cliffs dropping away vertiginously to my right. It’s quite cold up here on the edge, snow still clings to the scarps below me and the wind serves up a reminder that the late winter is only just receding. A number of the benches up here are festooned with brightly coloured ribbons, very similar to what you find at sacred wells across the country. Clearly this hilltop still represents a sacred place for locals. With the views stretching away across the vale below, to the mini-mountain range of the Malverns, it’s not difficult to understand why.

The final prehistoric stop-off of the day is the once-impressive Cleeve Cloud fort. Three lines of defensive banks and ditches cut the interior off from the rest of the hill, but sadly the western half of the fort is gone, another victim of the inexorable need for building stone. To add insult to grievous injury, a golf green has been inserted into the northern ramparts of the fort. Bah.

Despite all of this, it is a fine site still, the defences that remain are substantial and the views are immense. A good spot to stop off for a while and contemplate the route ahead, aided by what’s left of my lunch.

I’m excited to be coming back to Belas Knap. It’s been over three years since I last came up here, when the mound was buried under snow as deep and pristine as Christmas cake icing. In contrast, today is a proper spring day. The late winter has left some snow in the hedges and verges, but the twitter and trill of birdsong and the sunshine slanting through the trees on the approach instils a sense of renewal and rebirth.

I don’t have the place entirely to myself on arrival, but the two walkers I meet are readying to leave and I’m soon alone. This is a wonderful monument; the restoration work detracts not at all from the splendour of curved forecourt, whaleback mound and welcoming chambers. What does detract however, is to be confronted with a swastika daubed on one of the stones in the NE chamber. It’s never nice to see damage of any sort at an ancient site, but the fact that some meat-headed moron has chosen to bring their far-right idiocy here is doubly upsetting. The swastika is black, it’s not clear what has been used, although it’s not paint – perhaps charcoal. Ugly, in every sense.

More people arrive, but the mound is so big that it’s possible to feel alone here even when you’re not. I come across another swastika in the western chamber, which I manage to partially wash off with water from my bottle. Looking out from the chamber, I realise that the masts on the top of Cleeve Hill are visible. The last two times I came here, visibility was reduced by hillfog, so it’s great to be able to see so far.

There is some temporary wooden fencing at the eastern tip of the horned forecourt, where people climbing up onto the mound have eroded the earthwork. It looks as though some repair work is underway here, from the little pile of stacked limestone pieces. I return to the NE chamber and find to my sadness two further swastikas that I hadn’t seen the first time. Awful.

Emerging back into the sun, I meet three guys from Edinburgh, who turn out to be actors come down to Stratford for a play. They tell me that they usually come out to the Cotswolds for a walk on their trips down here, showing what a pull this area exerts far and wide. We chat for a bit and they head off towards Brockhampton, leaving me alone in the sunshine for a while longer.

Before eventually leaving, I have a quick look at the almost-gone round barrow in the field to the WSW. Like the similarly denuded example at nearby Crippetts, it was obviously placed here in a relationship with the earlier long barrow, but is so reduced as to almost escape notice, even if you are looking for it.

Although I’m considerably saddened by the neo-Nazi nonsense I’ve found here today, I’ve nevertheless enjoyed the re-visit to Belas Knap greatly. A fine example of how sympathetic restoration can really work, I’m lucky to have such a wonderful site so close to home. Adieu, for I shall surely return.

It’s now time to go and get out of this biting wind, but just before I do there’s just one more new site to see.
A mere fifty yards from Brian (Circle 275) is this massively overlooked barrow/cairn, with so many megalithic wonders here about it’s almost understandable. About a meter tall and maybe five across this heather and grass covered mound melts seamlessly into it’s surroundings, look for the telegraph pole uncaringly stuck right on top of it, blighters.
When Anglicising this site name have a giggle, a smirk, maybe even a titter, Fridd Wanc, giggle smirk titter.

Visited April 12, 2013

Having exhausted most Aberdeenshire sites north of Portlethen, I decided to take a look at some of the locations south of Stonehaven. First on the list was Cotbank of Barras Cairn on Mitton Hill.

I parked at the entrance to Cotbank Quarry, a familiar place from long ago. When the old A 96 was being dualled to create the present-day A 90: this is where most of the road metal came from.

The rock is basalt, and was notable for the numerous agate inclusions in it. Along with fellow enthusiasts, I used to search through the rock fragments piled up on the site at weekends, hunting down the semi-precious stones.

Today was cloudy, but just the right side of grey to be worth an exploration. And I was so lucky: one of the few sunny breaks arrived just as I reached the cairn.

This site was once thought to be a ruined stone circle, but current thinking is that it is a cairn surrounded by an intermittent ring of displaced kerbstones.

Ref: Canmore.

My elevated photograph gives a good impression of the site. There’s more to see than usual, probably because the severe winter has suppressed the normal rank grasses.

My day continued with a trip to the Moray Stone. Although the enormous field opposite Cotbank Quarry was starting to ‘green’ as a crop emerged, a dual carriageway of tractor tracks conveniently led right across to its far edge. A few field boundaries later, and skirting a commercial piggery, the Moray Stane was reached.

This was surely the warmest day of 2013, and I decided to continue my trek to Montgoldrum RSC. As I circled round the woodland to gain the path to the circle, I disturbed a roe deer which bounded out of the undergrowth ahead of me, followed by a hawk.

As amply noted elsewhere, this site is more than a little ruinous, yet it still retains an aura of grandeur. Well worth the effort of a visit.

Ref: Canmore.

From Cefn Coch barrow I skirt around the base of becairned Moelfre following the path towards these two cairns. Passing the site of crashed WWII bomber ” Bachelors baby ” a B24 Liberator, they were probably looking for stone circles and never saw the hill coming.
Coflein still isn’t co-operating, so I didn’t know what to expect, if anything. But I was pleasantly surprised to find the remains of a substantial kerb cairn. Half the kerbing has gone but those that remain are quite large, the interior of the cairn has a slight rise in ground level .
About fifty yards up the hill back in the direction of the Druids circle, is what I presumed must be the other cairn. It is heather covered and is either situated upon a rocky knoll or the whole thing is the rocky knoll, there was nothing else in the vicinity so I clicked the camera and moved on.
The view of the snowy mountains is very overpowering to me and the urge to climb one right now is almost too much to bear, I have to turn my back upon them and carry on walking.

Somewhat sad and lonely stone, sitting defiant between the busy road and the lay-by. Hard to connect with it’s surroundings, really, but as Norfolk and Suffolk have very little in the way of standing stones (!), I’ll take this one.

This was a bit of a slog, added to by my 4-year-old companion with equal measures of joy and impatience. It’s quite a journey from the last available parking space at the entrance to the forestry, and when you do get to the vicinity of the tomb it’s a bugger to spot as the ten-year-old pines completely hide it. It is exactly where it says it is on the map and if you have a bit of determination, you will find it – only leave any small children at home.

The forestry people had the good sense to leave quite a bit of space around the tomb when re-planting, allowing the monument to breathe a little. It’s a charming little place, but the views are becoming ever more blocked as the pines shoot up.

Much of the kerb and entrance is still standing on the west side of the tomb. The chamber, with its wig-like tree stump, is 1.8 metres by 1 metre by .6 of a metre high. There is slight evidence of a passage (I’ve often wondered on these small passage graves “Passage for who? The fairies?“) and some other structural orthostats. The whole of the mound is about 10 metres in diameter.

Quite a magical little place, probably my first and last visit.

I really liked this little monument. Said to be part of “a complex of prehistoric sites”, there’s a ring cairn two fields away that 4 of the photos here are of, and there’s a quite substantial wedge tomb down the hill. This ‘cairn’ is very barrow-like and has a fosse, probably created by the digging of the material that makes up the mound. The stones on the mound may or may not be part of a disturbance/excavation.

Visited 6.4.13

On the way to Peterborough and Flag Fen I took the opportunity to start our little holiday with a quick ‘look see’ at the Coate stone circle. Access is easy enough as a minor road runs directly past/through the circle.

As has been previously said, 5 stumps of stones are easily visible from the road (as long as the grass is kept short) and I settled for a view from the road side. I saw little benefit in jumping over the rusty barbed wire for a closer look.

What a shame this circle has not survived intact.
Although I doubt the people living in the posh houses opposite would welcome the increased number of visitors that would attract!

Worth a quick detour when travelling along this stretch of the M4.

Visited 6.4.13

Directions:
Visible on the left when travelling along the minor road north from the village of Great Addington to Woodford. A public right of way leads from the road to the Barrows.

There is room to pull in at the metal field gate at the start of the track which runs from the road straight to the 3 Barrows. (No doubt giving the name ‘Three Hills’)

By the time we arrived at the site the sun was starting to set on a beautiful clear day. The cold wind had picked up and was a reminder that it was still only early spring – certainly not warm enough for shorts yet!

Luckily the weather had been dry for a few days and the mud track was easy enough to walk up with just the occasional puddle evident. Within 5 minutes I was at the Barrows which had been left alone despite the surrounding area being cultivated.

The 3 Barrows are within touching distance of each other are all about 2m high x 20m across. All 3 Barrows are covered in scrub with a couple of small trees starting to take hold. There was clear evidence of a lot of rabbits calling the Barrows ‘home’.

All was quiet and there were decent views to be had despite the nearby wind turbines slowly revolving in the evening breeze. The sky was turning to orange and it felt like one of those ‘great to be alive’ moments – wonderful.
For whatever reason I really enjoyed my visit here and would heartily recommend a visit if you happen to be in the area.

Visited 7.4.13

Directions:
Well signposted from the eastern side Peterborough.

It was a long journey but we had finally arrived at our destination – the famous Flag Fen. Probably like many reading this it had been a place I had wanted to visit for a number of years and it did seem slightly surreal to actually be here at last. We parked in the car park and quickly crossed the bridge into the visitor’s centre.

We were met by a very helpful chap at reception who provided up with a map and a quick overview of the site. There is also a small shop and café area.

Despite being a lovely sunny day, I was surprised to find that except for a handful of other people we were the only ones there, so pretty much had the place to ourselves.

We visited the reconstructed Bronze Age / Iron Age round houses, the Soay sheep (plus new born lambs which Sophie in particular liked), museum and of course the famous wooden causeway. I had seen the wooden planks both on TV and in books and I must confess in real life it looks just as confusing – little more than a jumble of wood. It does take a fair degree of the ‘eye of faith’ to see it for what it actually is.

It took us about an hour to go all around the site before we headed back for a cuppa and a sit outside on the veranda. It was a very peaceful place to be although I would imagine (hope) it gets a lot busier in the summer? It only cost £8.00 for a family ticket and was well worth the entrance fee.

I am pleased to report that Flag Fen lived up to my expectations and I guess the only disappointment was not seeing Francis Pryor lurking about amongst the reeds!
Although we did see a heron close up and a fox lurking in the undergrowth.

Flag Fen is well worth the effort of a visit – I am sure you won’t be disappointed.

Visited 7.4.13

Directions:
From Peterborough travel north to the village of Newborough (on the B1443)
The enclosure is along a track leading to Moores Farm and farm shop.

In a nutshell, don’t bother – there is nothing to see.

Follow the directions previously given by Kammer but be aware that the mentioned second information board no longer exists. My advice would be to park on the brow of the hill, just before the road descends down towards the stone bridge crossing the river. There is ample parking.

The stones were not visible from the road due to the trees and undergrowth.
I managed to find a gap in the bushes and pushed my way through onto the cultivated field the other side. It then didn’t take long to spot the stones.

They are in a small fenced off area at the edge of the field, amongst the undergrowth.

Now, I don’t claim to be in any way an expert on ‘old stones’ but I have seen a few over the years. And as Chris points out they certainly don’t appear to be prehistoric. At least if they are they look as though they have been subsequently worked as they are too square to be natural?

Each stone is approximately 2.5ft high x 8 inches across and lean towards the south.
Both stones are covered in green/yellow and white lichen.

These stones are not the easiest to find and given their somewhat dubious ‘history’ it is not a site I would recommend unless you are particularly keen.

Visited 7.4.13

It took me ages to find the museum until Karen pointed out that we were parked behind it and had actually walked past the place on the way into the city centre.
I blame the information hoarding which was hiding the stone!

There isn’t a lot you can say about the stone itself.
It is small – approx 1ft high x 2ft across x 2inch wide.
Looks a bit like a small headstone

Had a few strange looks from museum staff out of the window as I was admiring the stone in the middle of their newly mown lawn.

Not much to recommend a visit unless you happened to have parked behind the museum and happen to be walking past the stone…………………..!

Despite some promising low spring sunshine when we set off, by the time we’d walked along Vize Lane from Broad Hinton, thick cloud had largely set in. The only thing that gives a hint of the site when viewed from a distance is the re-erected stone at the crossroad.

Only when you’re almost on top of them are you aware of the six recumbent stones in the field to your left. However, with the vegetation being still mostly leafless in this prolonged winter weather, if you look in the hedgerow to your right you’ll notice a pile of substantial sarsens that have been cleared from the surrounding fields. Now this begs the question of whether they’re (a) from the ruined circle to your south, (b) from a nearby barrow to the north-east (ploughed out, but visible on Google Maps) or (c) simply cleared natural stones from surrounding fields? As they’re easily as big as the stones within the incomplete circle, it makes you wonder why the circle wasn’t completely cleared at some point, as cultivation has been going on there for a very long time judging by the evidence of faint strip lynchets. Of course if this isn’t the ruined stone circle, as has been suggested, and that it was originally the other side of the Clyffe Pypard road, then it hardly matters at all about the provenance of the hedgerow stones!

Also worth having a good look at is the whopper of an outlier to the south-east of the circle. This stone is about the same size as the re-erected crossroads stone, but infinitely more interesting in shape. Shame they couldn’t have re-erected this one also or maybe they were worried about accidentally crushing the Alpacas that currently occupy the field.

I don’t know whether Boudicca rests here, or one of the more famous sites claimed, but I would like to believe so.

There are several barrows around here on the Norfolk/Suffolk border (including the nearby Soldier’s Hill – another reckoned Boudicca site..), and this is my favourite.

It is close to home, and it is easily visible from the passing car heading along the Diss to Thetford road. When driving past you sweep down into the dip of the Devil’s Ditch, which gives the area an enclosed feel, and highlights the enigmatic barrow which juts out from the nearby trees of Home Covert, on Garboldisham Heath.

So to Bremore passage grave cemetery once again. The endangered Bremore passage grave cemetery. Five recorded passage graves (by Herity), a recorded fulacht fia, a recorded unclassified barrow and an unrecorded shell midden, all within a small corner of a small headland in the northernmost part of the county Dublin coastline.

We parked on the lane and headed into the cropless field towards the south-eastern mound. If this ever was a passage grave, it’s been totally ruined beyond recognition. The mound, along with the next one a little to the north and the one to the extreme west of the group, are only recognisable as anything prehistoric because the farmer has desisted from ploughing them into oblivion. These three have a couple of boulders each that may be parts of kerbstones, but all three barely rise a half metre above the surrounding terrain. They are all elongated, their longer axis pointing back towards the main mound.

The main mound is a large, circular cairn that seems to have been robbed out, as opposed to the ‘collapse’ mentioned in the Monuments Database entry. It reminds me of the chunk taken out of Dowth. I had hoped to be able to explore the chamber/passage area a bit more given the time of year, but last year’s brambles are too tightly woven and still quite vicious. Pity.

The tomb is less than 5 metres from the shoreline. We traversed our way down below the main mound and found a rather impressive shell midden. This looks to have been a feasting area, but the sea has eroded into the material and is in danger of washing it away altogether.

The last of the five so-called tombs is barely recognisable under all the vegetation, even though growth has been slow with our late Spring this year.

Visited 6th April 2013

Following the fine directions given by previous contributors, and the particularly useful link provided by Rhiannon, I managed to find this place no problem, and worked it into a visit on a round trip from Glastonbury taking in both Stoney Littleton and the Faulkland standing stones first.

As suggested parking at The Bell Inn (right next to the A361 Frome Road at the village of Rode) is by far the best plan, and the public footpath is easily accessible just across the road. Once over the first stile and into the fields proper you soon see the copses of trees on the rise ahead, to which you have to aim. The fields up to the copses were currently fallow, but clear paths around their edges allowed me not to get my feet too muddy. Gates were all open and access was easy, with only the occassional distant report of a shotgun giving me a vague sense of unease lest I become unwitting cannon fodder for a trigger happy farmer.

As I head across the fields I disturb a pair of deer grazing at the newly emerging shoots, and we both freeze, staring wide eyed at each other for a moment, before they turn and flee from this noisy interloper.

Soon I’m at the barrow, huddled amongst the trees, the outline of the monument clearly visible since most of the vegetation has either died back in the harsh winter, or else been cropped by the fiendly neighbourhood deer. As I take in the whole of the monument it almost looks like a cutaway diagram of a barrow, the footings of the mound still clearly visible, the entrance portal stones standing proud, and a thick stone defining the end of the barrow (presumably the Devil likes to prop his feet up when in bed).

I crouch down to take a closer look at the portal stones, getting a few nettle stings in the process, but noticing what could possibly be three cupmarks on the interior facing of the stone. Once again I curse the fact that I’ve left the camera at home, and so am forced to take photo’s with the phone (which singularly fails to provide a decent picture of the cupmarks), oh well just an excuse to return I guess.

As I sit quietly here a buzzard swoops in low and lands in the tree next to me, and I’ll echo Rhiannon’s thoughts, it is lovely here, and the sort of place you could spend hours. It seems as if few people visit, there was certainly no evidence of any rubbish or offerings at the site, and it feels like this is the Severn-Cotswold barrows best kept secret. Often it is some of these lesser known places that retain a more tangible atmosphere.

I notice that the village church seems to be in a direct line with the barrow, which along with attributing the stones to the Devil, is one of those terribly insecure Christian gestures, to defame any other alternative beliefs. Well if the devil has all the best tunes, then he also seems to have the best places, as I’d much rather be here in this magical place than in the cold dour surroundings of the local church. With that thought I head back to The Bell, to finish off a site visit in the best possible way, with a nice pint.

In the townland of Collierstown is this small barrow. It now lies trapped behind the ugly fencing of Bellewstown race-track.
This is the entry from the Arch. Inventory of Co. Meath:
Oval mound (dims. 17m N-S, 12m E-W, H 1.8m), disturbed by digging SSW-NW. Cist (ME027-029001-) found c. 2m W of mound.

On the way from Bellewstown to Herbertstown I nearly collided with these. They are not marked on the OS map sheet 43. Three large, squat megaliths sit there in the middle of a triangle that splits a y-shaped junction. They are said to be the remains of a stone circle on archaeology.ie but no other details are given. A nice curiosity, though I remembered seeing them on Megalithomania.com some years back.