Latest Fieldnotes

This was Vicky’s favourite site of the day. I must admit, the journey up there did help; having to risk the electric fence (switched off!) and the hounds howling in the distance made for an exhilirating few minutes..... and then, when we saw the huge capstone before us, in amongst the gorse, it was incredible. Vicky spotted a fox, running into the gorse which made things even more fantastic!

Having been at Browne’s Hill a couple of hours earlier and being slightly disappointed by the atmosphere of the place, this was just perfect. I like having to make an effort to see a site and the fact that this beautiful portal tomb is siutated in what feels like a wilder, unvisited landscape made the whole thing seem that much more impressive. The capstone is massive and has a “head”, almost serpent-like. Andy said that it has been described as sphynx-like and I really could see the connection.

We explored for a good while and then Andy took us over to some stones which he believed had some markings on them. It was bit of a hairy climb up, trying to get all three of us balanced on the stones below but when Andy pointed out the stone in question, it was worth it. A definite pattern of chevrons was carved into the rock edge and continued on the other side. It was pertty hard to see because of the way the rocks have been dumped by land clearance but it was definitely there.

This is an awe-inspiring place; once again I had to wonder at the ingenuity (or madness) of the people who engineered the massive capstone into place on the dolmen and the fact that it is still intact.

This was our next stop after Athgreany circle and was just as spectacular. Again, it is signed from the main road and there is a wee parking space by the gateway.

I loved the 2 great hulking quartz stones, surrounded by smaller granite ones (my knowledge of geology isn’t great, so feel free to correct me at any time) but had to wonder at the discarded stones behind a tree; one had been drilled so accurately across that it had broken in two.

Again, this is quite a small and very round circle, set amidst the most stunning of locations. Some of the stones were incredibley weathered, where others have survived the last 4 milleniums quite well.

You can just about make out the inscription marks on this stone, which is rather weirdly placed within a green in the middleof the village and stands alongside a statue of the Virgin Mary!

After the disappointment of not being able to get close to either the Punchestown Stone nor the Craddockstown Stone, we arrived here fairly down-hearted. We pulled onto the side of the road by the sign for the circle and headed up the hill.

When we reached the top of the incline, our mood immediately lifted when we saw the most beautiful circle in front of us. This is a very round circle and reminded me of Glenquickan in Scotland, both in size (although the stones here are much bigger) and the location.

There was a family already there, father and 3 kids and I noiticed that he had Burl’s guide with him. We started chatting and he explained that he had been helping a friend excavate the site on the day the picture for Burl’s book was taken. This was the first time he had been back to the site and he was trying to work out the postion of the photo. After 30 minutes of chatting, he recommended other sites for us to visit in the area and the combination of the stones and the kindness of strangers made our disappointing morning a distant memory.

I think that this was my favourite of the sites we visited on Sunday with Ryaner. Maybe it was the rather hilarious walk, with all 3 of us stumbling and getting caught on bits of dead tree at some point (and me almost falling into the smallest ditch imaginable) but it is more likely the absolutely magical setting of the stones.

Andy’s previous visit was still in evidence and the bracken was quite low, revealing the most beautiful stones. Some of them were almost completely covered in moss and lichen but they still looked amazing. Vicky and I had a good wander around the outside to see if there was an outlier but there doesn’t seem to be anything else in the woods linked to this site.

Andy pointed out and named the hills surrounding the site (which I have now forgotten!) and you can imagine the views from here before the forest was planted up. Fantastic! On the way back down, he noticed a stone amongst a pile of broken wood which could very easily be one of the missing stones; same size and weathering.

Oddly, there were 3 cider drinking Scandinavians sat in the centre of the circle which was pretty unusual because it isn’t the kind of place a causal observer would stumble on and they didn’t actually seem that interested in the circle itself, just their Bulmers! Made photographing the circle a bit hard but nothing could ruin the absolute magic of this place.

Looking down from the Wideford Hill Tomb to the straightened watercourse below (the line of the parish boundary) I saw just the other side cropmarks occupying this end of a field and extending slightly into the next. After carefully picking my way down to a fence I saw through my binoculars that the cropmarks were actually curvilinear banks. Not being able to cross that ‘drain’ from this side I went no further. Instead I decided to go along the hill, parallel to the modern boundary, after some large erect stones seen on previous occasions below the old Wideford track. It rapidly became apparent that I was walking precariously along the top of an ancient dyke, which turned out to be mostly earth with a ‘top dressing’ of earthfast and other small slabs revealed here and there. The O.S. shows short lengths of field fence at varying angles where the old map shows nothing, as is true of all this side of the hill then. It is difficult to tell whether these strictly follow the hill-dyke or not as I was unaware of any divergences myself in following it. The modern fence is mostly fading away, and along the top of the dyke are many stumps of old posts. I think there have been two attempts in modern times to use this ancient feature as an aid to modern enclosure, one using the ‘standing stones’ that I was after. The first indication of the dyke’s height was a grind/slap in it, a gap with tall stones either side, some erect and others fallen. The dyke exposed here is a metre or so in height, possibly more in places, generally with a steeper drop on the downhill side. Watch your every step. There are a few more prehistoric ‘gates’ on the way and regions where waters seem to have swept through the earthwork later. Even mediaeval ‘gateposts’ only have pairs of ‘standing stones’, here are clusters of tall stones high and mighty guardians of portals into places long gone. Some have been seduced into bondage with barbed wire. One of the fallen becoming embedded in the earth is 2m or more, against another leans a small rectangular flag with a well-rounded piercing. After a while the dyke ends where a farmtrack starts. But there is another dyke here at right angles to the first. Looking downhill a thin rectangle of gorse extends and another large stone stoops near one end. I can see no stones on the hill below it. From here this, apparently slighter (and scooped out in several places not too long ago, dark dry earth in the hollow scars), dyke strikes up the hill to peter out just before reaching the old track from Haughhead to the cairn. Uphill the line continues as a plain drystane wall.

Visited Greycroft on 22 July 2006. In fact we just had a sight of it from the adjoining Seascale golf course. The ninth tee is the nearest point of the course to the stone circle, visible around a hundred yards away but not directly accessible because of wire boundary fences, and somewhat overgrown. There is no other obvious viewpoint from elsewhere on the golf course. I only had time to take a couple of photographs before disappearing down the nionth hole, so it was hard to form any detailed impressions.

Deer Park – Promontory Fort

Period – Iron Age

A line of defences, c.286m in length, cut off a large, cliff-girt promontory (very roughly 520mx400m): the defences serve to enhance the slopes of a N-S valley that defines the promontory area on it’s E, landward side; to the S there is a bank and dirch, whilst to the N the rampart merges with the natural slopes; two entrances are noted, one, slightly inturned, c.65m from the S cliff, the other, immediately N of the cliff, appears to open into a regular enclosure, c.72mx32m, divided into two roughly equal areas, that may represent a contemporary settlement or relate to the deer park that was later intended to occupy the area of the fort.
Source: Royal Commision AHM Wales, J.Wiles 15.09.03

The deer park is bounded by a stone wall built around 1800 by the family of Lord Kensington of St Brides. So far is known, the deer park was never populated with deer.

It is said the deer park could be seen to control access to the Skomer archepeligo. This is easy to see why, the views across to Skomer Island are stunning and there is extensive bird, animal and fish life which makes the trip even more worthwhile.

Skomer Island was farmed during the prehistoric period and the physical remains of field systems with cultivation marks, enclosures, clearance cairns, huts, dams and even settlements, survive more-or-less undisturbed in this peripheral area, which occupies nearly two-thirds of the island. The remains cannot be closely dated but Evans noted that ‘nothing like the arrangement of the fields or the shape of the huts is known from the Roman or later periods’ and ascribed to the features to a date-range from the neolithic to the iron age periods. Their exceptional survival is due to the fact that though the island was rented for the seasonal depasturing of cattle during the middle ages, and was rented annually for £4 7s in the 16th century, there appears to have been little permanent settlement until the 18th century when the present farm was established in the central part of the island.
Sources: Dyfed Wildlife Trust n.d.; Evans 1986; Evans 1990

Harold Stone, Skomer

Period: Unknown

An erect monolith, 1.7m high by 0.8 by 0.5m: one of several stones in SW Wales bearing the same name, which seems to derive from Gerald of Wales, who said that the stones were erected by Earl Harold to commemorate his victories over the Welsh in 1063: the relation between this stone and the extensive settlement remains on the island is unclear.

Source: J Wiles 23.05.02 Royal Commision AHM Wales

Whether ancient or not, it certainly is enigmatic on a foggy day!

Upon arriving, the first noticeable change was the structured lay-by with a now dedicated wheel-chair friendly footpath leading to the entrance of the stones. Neither did it appear necessary to scramble over a rickety stile to get to the King Stone – there seems to be proper access via a small gate. I was keen to see what the circle would be like now its exterior was expanded by the purchase of land to the south.

No disappointments on this score. Moving away from the visitor’s hut, the circle opened up before me, more able to breathe within its landscape than for many years previously. It looks fantastic. What made it look even more fantastic was the sunshine spilling over the weathered, twisted, pitted stones, singing out the colours of honey-coloured oolitic limestone, egg-yolk yellow lichens, and olivaceous-green mosses. To the south, a wide, rustling field of sun-baked golden wheat rippled and shimmered in the warm breeze. Fluffy white cumulus clouds sailed in stately fashion across a sky of rich, uplifting blueness. Wild flowers poked up through the grass, and clumps of coltsfoot sat the base of some of the stone, their dark glossy leaves contrasting with the rock. Perfection in Oxfordshire.

Swarth Howe is a pretty easy place to visit. It is just off the A171 and has a carpark on the opposite side of the road.
Accessibility is a completely different issue, the barrow is lost in a pretty much continuous dense thicket of gorse. It is possible to pick a path through the gorse and only come away with minor scratches but to be honest with you it’s not really worth it. You’ll spend a good half hour stumbing around to be rewarded with a fairly non-descript mound. Definitely one for the enthusiast.
The stone row is a different matter.
As you walk up the gorse lined track from the A171 to the wireless station, you’ll find Swarth Howe on your right and the stone row on your left.
It is possible to find a gap in the gorse and make your way to the stones but I would advise that you walk a little further up the path to the gateposts and then backtrack along the edge of the woodland. This will bring you to the first of the stones. Once you’ve found the first stone just cut into the trees and you’ll find the OS pillar and beyond that the second stone.
One point you may not appreciate if you are approaching the site from the north along the A171 is, that at 264m the Swarth Howe site occupies the highest point on Northern Margin of the Lower Esk valley and can be seen from many points to the south of the Esk as well as from a decent radius of coastline. This place was deliberately chosen and in my opinion is well worth a visit even if just to appreciate the topographic aspects of the site.
I had planned a circular walk from the carpark at NZ843088 through Hutton Mulgrave Woods and then back along the path at Moorgate Farm checking out the cairnfield and standing stone at NZ825098 but unfortunately the path from the farm no longer seems to exist and with no one around to ask I had to back track through the woods.

We did knock at the nearby house, but there was no answer, so we jumped the gate and helped ourselves. It wasn’t till then that I realised we’d been there before.

The stone is about 6ft tall and has great views. Nearby is a funny kind of Gorsedd made of large boulders, and the two seem connected somehow.

Permission to see the site should be sought at Llwydarth Fawr B&B on the B5111 near Llanerchymedd, but park at the dishevelled farm house nearer to the stones.

Go through two gates, then right through another gate, follow the hedge to the wall and it’s in the corner of the next field.

The burial chamber is collapsed and covered by thorny gorse. No wonder no one’s been here before me. They either couldn’t find it or left in a bad temper. Not me though. I was quite charmed. More intreresting was the throne stone, 50 yards away (maybe the reason for the chambers position).

From Hebron leave heading east then take the first left (south) onto a rough but level road. Keep going till you see the stone on your left. When we had parked, luckily the farmer was passing on his quad bike, and he didn’t mind the four of us visiting the stone. He said the cows were not used to children (huh?).

The stone is 8 to 9 ft tall and entirely made of pink quartz – quite beautiful. Not since Duloe stone circle in Cornwall have I seen it’s like. Don’t see why no one came here before little old me.

Windmill Tump is marked on my road atlas and I got here without an OS map. Since Kammer’s visit a smart brown sign has gone up at the gate. It’s a small one on a stick like a footpath sign, but it clearly shows the English Heritage symbol and the barrow’s name, so if you’re looking for it it’s enough to make you swerve into the layby.

Well, this is a strange place. It’s partly so neat that you wonder what’s real – the enclosing drystone wall echoes Stoney Littleton’s, but it ends neatly and abruptly every time a tree appears on the margin. On the other hand, the barrow’s untidy and rather bumpy and muddley on top – partly the fault of the big beech, ash and oak trees on top, and partly, no doubt, from past excavations.

My favourite bit was the chamber (of which Kammer has taken a photo). It’s ever so low and you can see more drystone walling inside. It was spookily thrilling to think of it stuffed with bones. However, it was weird – it was so high up on the mound. I imagined it would be low down like the side chambers at Belas Knap, but no. Weren’t bones shuffled about and periodically added to at long barrows? So it couldn’t have been just a sealed cist accessed from above? Was it just the end of a once longer passage? I dunno. I do know I kneeled squarely on a nettle when bending down for a look though. But in this position spotted that there are several lovely fossilised cockle-type shells on the rock: a deliberate choice or just local geology?

There’s also the two stones at the far end from the gate. I couldn’t tell if this was a ‘false entrance’ like Belas Knap, or another chamber positioned at the back end of the barrow instead (some research required). They were interestingly (naturally) striated and one of them had an excellent pink lichen on its inner face. It was more draughty sat here though, and the noise of the wind in the trees occasionally sounded like voices. As the rain set in it felt like quite a bleak and lonely place. But in sunshine it’s probably an ideal picnic spot really.

The barrow is pretty overgrown at the moment – apart from round the chamber and the end pair of stones, which has short turf. There are nettles, brambles, wild strawberry, and pretty but poisonous woody nightshade. There are lots of lovely stripey snail shells in yellow and in pink to look out for, too.

Scrambling over all this I got to the end of the barrow nearest the gate, where it was quite clear and there were lots of flat stones like the ones in the walls. But – hang on a minute – I couldn’t believe my eyes. Someone had carefully constructed a cross with them, flat on the ground, about 3 or 4 feet across! It was really carefully done, with the occasional straight edges of the stones deliberately chosen to form the edges of the symbol. It made me really angry – firstly that someone should be moving the stones (even if they had fallen out of a wall, or whatever), but secondly because I instantly presumed the symbol was made by someone trying to christianise this patently unchristian monument. Perhaps they weren’t. Perhaps it wasn’t even christian in intent. But that’s what it looked like and I just set about demolishing their handiwork. Some people have some funny ideas. Not least pretty much illegally interfering with ancient monuments. But also, if that’s what it was, trying to confer some kind of christian ‘benefit’ on people who lived at least 4000 years before christianity was even invented. In comparison with this, the roughly made plaited cornstalk ring I saw left at the entrance was a respectful and undamaging addition to the site.

Pfah. Anyway it was raining in big sheets now sweeping across the field and I had to leave. When I arrived I thought it was a strange location – there’s no view at all. But on leaving it occurred to me that maybe that’s the point – the barrow totally dominates the area which it is in, a constant reminder of the ancestors of the local inhabitants.

This is in a field by the road leading from St Eval to the Padstow road. The farmer has covered the gate with barbed wire so I assumed he didn’t want me to go in his field. I took the pic from the gate.

After an abortive attempt to find the rock art at Amersidelaw due to the density of the forest they’re in, my travels lead us to Whitehill head.

There are hundreds of stones scattered around this moor; and we started to think we wouldn’t find any of the several cup marked stones amongst them, but after a fair amount of looking we found only this one.

The feature here that is generally assumed to be the cairn is actually the base of a modern summerhouse, the real cairn is at SD50147428 and is a much more discreet affair, being an oval about 12.5m x 9.4m, it consists of a mound of earth and limestone rubble, and is kerbed with limestone blocks. At the centre is a depression, the result of an 1778 excavation which recovered a human skeleton, a large bead, and calcined human bones.

The cairn is easy to locate via the footpath to Leighton Hall from Peter Lane. Almost immediately after going through the gate from Peter Lane the path crosses a tractor track running up the hill, follow this to the left, the cairn is on the left-hand side of this track, just before leaving the trees and entering the area where the stone circle is situated (Directly below the ESE outlier).

Standing a little over 1m in height this stone isn’t as impressive as the majority of others found on Anglesey, but is easy to find standing by the A5 near the showground.

Excavated by Greenwell pre-1877. Remains of 5 individuals found. No sign of cremation. Two flint flakes, but no other grave goods

Are you sure the offending structure is a grouse butt? Or is it a wind-break constructed by Lyke Wake walkers? I noticed that they’d desecrated Lilla Howe in the same way and for the same reasons about ten years ago.

Update 16th. August, 2006 : English Heritage field investigator points out there are no grouse butts in this vicinity, and agrees that the offending structure is a windbreak built by walkers. Decision on what – if anything – can be done is pending.

First of all, don’t trust the Ordnance Survey map, it claims the cairn circle is on the other side of the road. Being stupid, I went tramping through the thick ferns there before realising that the nice open area where I had conveniently parked on the other side of the road is where the circle actually is. Oops.

To find the circle, travel west along the A5092, and after going through Gawthwaite (don’t blink) and before getting to Grizebeck, take the little lane on the right. Travel down here for a while, passing the Birch Bank caravan and camping park on the right, and the circle is in a clearing on the left at the top of a steep rise, and before the lane goes steeply downwards. Today the circle was hidden from view of the lane by a clump of ferns on one side (my excuse for not spotting it straight away) but has a nice, clear, grassy area around the circle which, judging by the odd cigarette butt, is used by SOMEONE.

It is a pretty little circle, with some interesting rocks showing through the turf – some quartz rocks, some looking strangely bark-like in texture. The rabbits clearly enjoy it and something had feasted well judging by the clean white bone in one hollow.

The views are beautiful. It lies just under a hillock, and has views out over distant peaks. A lovely spot on an isolated road.

We reached the longbarrow to find a small group of people reading the information board. I took photos like a woman possessed, desperate to take something back with me to North Wales, a decent set of pictures to reflect on when away from this most magnificent of places. It was thrilling to touch the stones again after so long, wonderful to stand in the small forecourt before walking once more into the dark, imposing chambers. Again, the structure of the place struck me through new eyes; the size of the rocks, the creation of this space, the awesome nature of the whole. It occurred to me that the stones appeared very much like the bones of the earth. Once again, memories of times past drifted through my mind, especially the last visit, which was strange and dark. I didn’t want that memory to stay with me, but it persistently floated back, until a sudden trilling chirr and resonant, urgent wing beat broke the dark chambers’ air. More squeaks, more wing beats, a dart of movement, and a swallow swooped out of the entrance, up the face of the forecourt stones, and into the night. A few moments later a rush of air signalled its return – they were nesting inside one of the chambers!

I hid behind a large stone and watched them fly in and out, while Moth and Jane sat above the entrance to watch their unerring, acrobatic passage back and to the nest. We were the only people there, immersed in the magic of the muted night’s colour and smells, the timelessness and atmosphere of the long barrow and its stones, the sounds of wind through grasses and swallows’ wing beats and chirrs. The feeling of re-birth, renewal, regeneration and life filled the place, and any dark memories were chased away, to be replaced by light and airy vibes of positivity.

After a while the urge to stroll round the complex became very strong, so I set off in a clockwise direction, beginning at the lattice work of gnarled beech roots crowning the eastern dip in the henge. It was then the sheer magnitude of the Avebury complex hit me again, somehow through older, wiser eyes. The size of the embankment and ditch struck home, and I recalled telling one of our neighbourhood children that it had been dug out using antler picks and shovels, the spoil carried away in baskets. Standing still, I looked at the chalk beneath my feet. It was densely packed, hard and dusty. Friends have deer antlers hanging by their back door; they’re not especially large, and I tried to imagine what it would feel like to begin scrabbling at the chalk face with a similarly shaped smooth-handled bone pick. Can’t imagine it would have made much impact. What a feat of engineering Avebury is – henges built 5,000 years ago, yet still supporting the footfall of millions of visitors a year.

Gazing across the rooftops of houses within the circle, and watching people playing with a frisbee in the north-eastern quarter, they appeared diminutive, tiny against the vast circle and sky. What would it have been like to stand on the henge when there was no village, when presumably it was built for the populace to bear witness to whatever form of rite and ceremony, under open skies and the theatre of the circle? How could you see what was taking place? Was the henge a form of seating, or was it to provide a barrier to arcane and esoteric practices? Could you lie on it in comfort to star-gaze all night?

Strolling round the henge and through the stones, memories of previous visits filled my mind, individual stones calling up reminders of who did this, how this happened, where particular photos were taken, what conversations took place. I smiled inside, at a tapestry of life, friends, lovers, experiences and growth woven over the years amidst the stones – stones that never change, yet can change your life in subtle degrees from the moment you enter their world.