Latest Fieldnotes

Impressive stones, but spoilt for us by being fenced in and in close proximity to ugly farm buildings and road.

We also could only count 11.
There is a stile to get into the field so you need to be agile. There were sheep with lambs in the field so take care in Spring not to alarm them. Lambs seemed to find stones excellent for climbing practice!
It is near the villages of Holywood and Holywood Station, just off A76 heading north. Not well signposted so look out carefully for it.

A large grass covered rubble ring, approximately 18x15m in diameter. The width of the bank varies between 1m & 5m.
There is a large gap to the north. It may be a ring cairn, although J.Barnatt suggests with it laying next to wall stone quarries it may be a robbed cairn.

From the standing stone on Smelting Hill, follow the wall along until you reach a large disturbed barrow. Over the wall here, go to the far side of the field. The ring/robbed cairn is near the edge between 2 small walling quarries.

Excellent views.....nothing really to see of the cairn.

Visited 17th April 2003: This stone is in a field of lush pasture, so I decide to exercise my right to roam (somewhat prematurely) and take a closer look. The field is a lot bigger than it looks, and the stone is lot further away from the road than I expected. I’d anticipated a short jog, but the journey turned out to be quite a run (with a commando style roll in the middle to get under an electric fence).

I realised why I’d misjudged the distances when I eventually stood next to the stone. It’s really rather large (none of the photos I took convey the real size of it). I  remember thinking that it wouldn’t look out of place at Avebury. A short run back to the car, and we headed off to the next Devil’s Quoit, trying to beat the sunset.

Visited 17th April 2003: Actually it’s an over statement to describe this as a visit. The Harold Stone is on private land, so I’m guessing access is a potential problem. We were pressed for time because the sun was setting fast, and I had in mind a visit to the Devil’s Quoit. I decided to cut my losses and stop short of trying to get close to the stone. I settled for this photo taken from the road.

Visited 17th April 2003: I thought that a visit to Pembroke castle was going to be a break from prehistory, but there’s no escaping it. The Wogan is an enormous cave underneath the castle, which was incorporated into the defences in the thirteenth century. It was used intermittently as a shelter from the Palaeolithic period to the Mesolithic. It’s likely that it was also used during the Bronze Age.

The cave is enormous, and impossible to photograph with a conventional flash. There’s a spiral staircase leading down to it from the castle, and something called a watergate (i.e. a big wall) blocks the original entrance except for a gate and a window.

As well as the Wogan, there’s an Iron Age connection up on the surface. It’s widely believed that the castle was built on the site of a promontory fort. The original defensive ditch that the castle used, and by implication the fort, was subsequently filled in. This makes it impossible to prove or disprove the Iron Age fort theory without digging up the site.

You have to pay to get into the castle to visit the Wogan, but it’s a great castle, so I’d recommend it.

Visited 17th April 2003: This isn’t the sort of site I usually post up on the Modern Antiquarian. I’m never all that sure about holy wells on a Web site about pre-history. Their credentials vary, and I can’t claim any particular reason for thinking that the well at St. Govan’s predates the chapel.

Having done the scepticism thing, I can heartily recommend St. Govan’s well and the nearby chapel as a place to visit. Both are, at the very least, amazing examples of Celtic Christian sites, and the setting is spectacular. If you can visit off season then you might get the place to yourself, which is something special. I’ve visited St. Govan’s so many times, it feels comfortingly familiar.

As well as the saint’s well, there’s also a smaller well inside the chapel. This is much less impressive and usually fills up with litter. Also part of the chapel is a strange roofless anteroom that has the natural rock face as two of its walls. Inside is a niche within which are unusual natural markings, presumably made by thousands of years of water erosion. Perhaps this place did represent something special to our pre-Christian ancestors. I’ll have to try harder to image it all without the chapel.

Visited 17th April 2003: If ever a site was inappropriately named, this is it. The Long Stone is now a short stone, reduced to a withered stump. It looks like the damage to the stone might be the result of weathering, because it’s made up of some sort of sandstone (apologies to Geologists out there, but that’s my best guess). I wonder what it looked like 100 years ago.

There’s no public access to the stone, and you can’t see it from the road, but there is an appropriately placed hole in the hedge quite near it. I think this may be one of those sites you should visit, before it’s gone for good. Rather a sad place really, especially as it sits in the shadow of the oil refinery.

Visited 17th April 2003: After the Harold Stone this was a bit disappointing. We would never have known the stone was there just by passing, because it’s largely embedded in the hedge bank. It was the lady from the bungalow by the Harold Stone that told us about it.

Since the visit I’ve had a quick look at the site on the NMRW, and it’s listed by different organisations in different ways. I’m pretty sure there are more stones we missed when we were there, because the site is described as standing stones (by Cadw), a stone row (by the RCAHMW), and a possible stone circle (by Cambria Archaeology). That’s assuming that we’re all talking about the same site.

Visited 17th April 2003: The Harold Stone is on private land, with no public right of access. Having said that, I’ve never been made to feel so welcome visiting a site on someone else’s land before. To cap it all, this stone is in the back garden of a bungalow. The couple who own the bungalow have got used to people visiting the stone, and they have a very easy going attitude to the wide variety of beliefs held by those who come. They told us numerous stories about people visiting the stone, including archaeologists, coach parties of tourists, Ley Line hunters and stone hugging Pagans. After we’d seen the stone we were invited in for a cup of tea in their kitchen while the boys slept in the car.

Apart from the warm reception, it was a warm and sunny day, and I was very pleased to see the Stone. It’s a striking lump of rock, almost white with lichen, except for the upper surface which is green with beautiful hairy lichen. Before she left us to look at the stone on our own, the lady who lives at the bungalow pointed out some distinct fluting at the base of the stone. She has been told that the fluting may have been carved into the stone by the people who put it up to ease the process of fixing it into the ground.

The stone is up above the sea cliff, apparently visible from the coastal footpath that runs between the garden and the cliff edge. There are beautiful views from the garden out into St. Bride’s Bay, but the gentleman who owns the bungalow told me the weather can be a problem because the plot is so exposed (something we talked about for a while because I live on top of a mountain, and we had numerous anecdotes to swap). What a pleasant visit! We’ll definitely be going back as soon as we get the opportunity.

Above ground, this site appears to be a solitary standing stone, albeit an impressively large one. However, a combination of ploughing and excavation in the late 1960s and early 1970s revealed this to be the visible remains of an archaeologically interesting area. Two further stones lie buried to the E of the standing stone, at distances of 7.80m and 12.15m, aligned E-W. Close to the eastern boundary of the field, again buried, are three further stones arranged in an arc that would suggest a circle of around 9.0m in diameter, just to the S of the E-W alignment.

Around 1887, a cist was uncovered near the standing stone, and was found to contain a food vessel, which made its way to the museum at Blair Castle. Coles described it as being “found in a cist in the haugh near Tom-na-Croiche, which is the name of the ground at the standing stone.” In 1969, John McBeth, the farmer at Balnaguard, found a short cist while ploughing 12.0m to the NW of the stone, at the highest point of a slight rise. Upon excavation, the cist was found to have a partially-cobbled floor. Several finds, including an upturned beaker sitting on sand in one corner, are now in the National Museum. The cist was filled in, and the cover stone now lies at the edge of the field (NN 9455 5205).

In 1971, further excavations took place. The earth around the base of the standing stone was removed to a depth of 0.25m, revealing 7 cup-marks on the S face. Another cup-mark was found on the prostrate stone closest to the upright one. The three buried stones in an arc at the field boundary (NN 9468 5209) were found to be set amongst apparent cairn material of fist-sized smooth stones, covering an area of 6.10m by 3.65m. This was under a layer of 0.25m of plough soil, and was itself 0.3m deep, resting on the sandy subsoil of the field. Under the NE section of these stones the subsoil was found to have dark stains, and produced some cremated bone, carbonised wood, and a small rim sherd possibly from a food vessel. Further S from this area, a thin flat slab of 2.3m length was also found. No socket was found, so it is possible this may have been a cist cover.

Visited 15th April 2003: Bedd Arthur was as far west as we walked along the Preseli ridge. I was really proud of William for walking all the way without being carried at any stage along the journey, so this posting is dedicated to him.

What a strange site Bedd Arthur is. My gut feeling is that it’s prehistoric, but how you categorise it I’ve no idea. Some people regard it as an ellipse of stones, and others as a rectangle (depending on how you join the dots in your head). Apparently it’s regarded as a hengiform monument, because there are traces of a bank around it (not that I could see them). As for it’s situation, the site overlooks Carn Meini and the Stone River, which can’t be coincidence.

The place has quite a special feel to it, possibly because it’s so isolated. By the time we got there it was nearly evening (much later than intended) and there was simply no one about. Apart from William’s noise it was tranquil. I wish we hadn’t been so tired by the time we got there. With the prospect of the walk back (at three and a half year old speed) hanging over us we didn’t stay as long as I would have liked.

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I’ve posted a view from Bedd Arthur towards Carn Meini on the Carn Menyn Chambered Cairn part of the site.

All hail to this mighty burial chamber! All wind and all rain, too. To reach the beast, I galloped the quarter of a mile through the tall wet grass in the field in inadequate clothing clutching an all-too-small umbrella to protect me from the horizontal, angry hailstorm.

But I wanted to inspect the GIANT weetabix capstone, the beautiful construction of the stones supporting it, the whopping chamber beneath it. The appalling weather made it feel very intimate, not only because I had it entirely to myself, but also because from beneath my umbrella my field of vision was severely impaired, so the massive pylon looming over it so closely was completely irrelevant to me. The rivulets of water streaming off the stones made them glisten with life and despite the dull lighting conditions, the photos I took showed the stones off as shiny and wonderful.

I marvelled at Tinkinswood’s great size and shape, it reminded me of Belas Knap, but without the swelling of Belas’ reconstructed mound. Tinkinswood is more collapsed and flatter. Was it always thus?

Despite my cold, saturated trousers I felt happy and inspired by this place. Carole, waiting for me in the car, could hardly believe that after having spent 15 mins out in the storm I could return to the car smiling. That’s the power of Tinkinswood.

Ooooh! So cute! and standing just 20 metres or so from the kissing gate at the edge of the field its beautiful silhouette on the horizon. I ran up the field excitedly towards this little house of cards but made in stone, its simplicity of construction and symmetry a sheer delight. It provided perfect cover from the appalling weather for a moment until curiosity forced me out from the dolmen’s cover in order that I investigate the context of the field in which it stands. The weird low western light, the stairrods-rain and the shimmer of long wet grass revealed the original shape and size of the long barrow of which this dolmen would have once been a part.

Love it! I’d love to return here on a sunshiney day with a flask of Earl Grey and a selection of interesting cheeses. A little Jarlsberg anyone?

Visited 26th April 2003: This cluster of barrows is visible from the Thurfield Heath car park. There are three relatively large barrows, and three smaller ones (of which I only identified two) that are much less well defined. The three largest in the cluster are very close to each other, and stand in a neat row. From the top of any one of these you get great views of the long barrow to the south and Cambridgeshire to the north (freakily flat to someone who lives in Wales).

Visited 26th April 2003: This barrow sits out on its own, away from the others, to the north east of the long barrow. It has an iron bench on it dedicated to someone called Herbert John Haywood (apparently he loved the beautiful walk and view). To be fair to Mr Haywood, it is a nice place to sit, even though Royston makes up a large part of the view.

This has to be one of my favourite carvings on the moor despite the fact that it is close to a fair bit of passing human traffic and noise and has been the subject of vandalism in the form quarrying, as well as peoples names and even modern celtic patterns chipped out of the rock. The motifs though amaze me – I think this is only the second time I’ve visited, the first time I managed to completely miss a large section of the carvings and there may be more here that I haven’t yet recognised. The largest motif consists of a deep central cup with double joined arcs and extending grooves, one of which has a peculiar kink in it as it curves away to the west before turning sharply to the north. Just to the east of the pattern a deep groove runs northwest-southeast. On either side of it are about half a dozen cups, 3 rings and several unfinished rings or grooves. To the west is the second motif that seems to have been damaged by quarrying, again it has an almost central cup, this time with a ring that a doesn’t quite meet and a pair of grooves extending from either side that curve in and also do not quite meet. Through the middle of these 2 elements is a half circle groove which also has an uncut centre – why were these 3 elements left with uncut centres? Between the 2 main motifs, 5 cups and a small groove form a triangle – Stan Beckensall shows a further motif to the south but I couldn’t find it.
In my last fieldnote for this site I mentioned that normal maps are of no use on the moor and the GPS reigns supreme. At the time and with the maps I had this was largely true although the comment now seems rather ignorant and cringeworthy. Yes, a GPS will take you close to the stones but it is no replacement for a decent map – I would definitely recommend a visit to magic.gov.uk to get some printouts at 1:5000 or 1:10000 which accurately show the many tracks over the moor as well as the locations of most of the stones and other scheduled monuments.

Visited 26th April 2003: I was a bit concerned that we wouldn’t find the long barrow because I knew it was of the low earthen type, but even without a Landranger it was easy enough to find. It’s up on the hill to the east of the car park. Although you can’t see the long barrow itself from the car park, you can make out the nearby round barrows.

Watch out for the golf players though. Whereas most of the round barrows are on the side of the fairway, the long barrow is part of the golf course (apologies to any golf players if my terminology is muddled). We watched a bloke taking a shot from the top of the barrow. It was rather amusing to me, but I suppose it’s pretty routine for the local players. In this case I think he thought we were admiring his game.

Lost as usual!!! Absolutely fantastic. The road and the trees only serve to make it more mysterious

Windmill Hill. There isn’t a windmill. And to the majority of us that hurriedly guess a glance in its direction when accelerating out of Avebury, there doesn’t seem to be much of a hill either. But this weekend (on my way to Jane’s inspiring exhibition of paintings) I decided I’d finally pay it a visit.

Taking Julian Cope’s book’s advice I thought I’d walk up from Avebury. Just to save you the unnecessarily tiring confusion I suffered trying to find the footpath, let me guide you to it. I parked in the NT carpark. Just as you walk through the gate, turn sharp left and leave the rest of the tourists behind – cut down this shady footpath and at the end of it turn left onto the road. The road soon bends right, then left. By now you will have been overcome by an urge to remark on the cuteness of the village. The road turns into a path, and then into a little bridge/causeway. When it splits in two, take the right hand side, and climb over the stile to your right. Cross the field and the stiled footbridge – then you just follow the path across the fields. I’d met three people so far who cheerily answered my ‘good morning’s – but from this point on I didn’t see a soul until I was back in Avebury.

When you finally get to it, the climb is kind of slow and shallow, but it turns into a slog – the type where you start off chatty but end up silently wondering ‘aren’t we there yet?’ It made the walk more of a Journey really, as I had time to ponder. Arriving was quite gradual – not like the short concerted effort of getting to Adam’s Grave or WK longbarrow, and there was no shock value of a sudden view. When I arrived I was alone – well, as alone as you can be amidst 100+ sheep, but they largely ignored me. It was immensely windy and cold, but sunny and clear. It should have been totally silent, but the wind was howling in my ears and I could hear a lot of noise, even though there wasn’t any. If you see what I mean.

I stood on the biggest barrow and did feel at the centre of all I surveyed. Behind me the steep slopes up to the Ridgeway were enclosing, in front the Pewsey Downs pointed out to the flat landscape. I guess the hill must slope away equally on all sides, but it didn’t feel like this. Maybe it was partly to do with the colours of the fields and only an illusion of this time or season.

I couldn’t see Avebury for trees, but Silbury Hill stood out . Its top seemed about the same level as I was standing – again this could have been an illusion, but it was quite an interesting one.

I thought it was a strange place really – it was so empty but it must once have been a busy focus of activity. It was quite lonely really. From the top it is very much a Hill, but that’s certainly not how it looked to me before I ventured up here. I suppose I’ll be better equipped to pick the site out from other vantage points now? Even when I came down it didn’t look like it felt, or how it was. It’s quite Disguised.

Anyway, well worth it. I felt quite smug and comfy as I walked back that I’d been up there. Come back to Avebury, you should go up there too.

Visited 15th April 2003: When I visited this site I thought it was Carn Ferched, but now I’m more inclined to think it’s actually a standing stone called Maenllwyd y Rhos.

The site is relatively easy to find if you’re on the ridgeway path that runs along the Preseli range. There’s a large boulder by the footpath opposite the cairn, so if you’re not sure look out for this, then head north and you’ll get to it. It’s clearly visible from the footpath, so this technique should only be necessary in poor weather conditions.

I was surprised to find such large kerb stones in what I thought be a cairn, so I checked and double checked that I was in the right place. At the time I was suspicious of my own navigation because the Landranger map, which marks Carn Ferched, puts it further west than this site. I also had some grid references for Carn Ferched which I’d put in my GPS from Prehistoric Preseli by N.P. Figgis which didn’t match the site I was looking at.

It’s only a month later that I’ve realised that these stones are probably not Carn Ferched at all. My grid references exactly match a Cambria Archaeology record for Maenllwyd y Rhos (SN 15441 32906), which is listed as a possible standing stone. What little information I can find on Carn Ferched suggests it is a barrow like site, which certainly doesn’t describe the stones that I saw.

Whatever it actually is, I visited this site twice, once on the way to Bedd Arthur and once on our return. Same day, but very different light conditions. Well worth the tiny detour if you’re heading this way to Bedd Arthur, Carn Meini etc. Possibly a bit trickier to find coming from the direction of Moel Drygarn.

I visited Rombald’s Moor as a result of finding this web-site. I saw lots of stuff up there but could not nail down Ashlar’s Chair, and the pancake stone. I saw the stone that Chris calls the Goth Stone. Not having a camera on me, I did not remember it until now. I have never seen anything like it before. I was surprised by the amount of 18th and 19th century carved graffiti up there.

I’m still not convinced about this site, but I thought I’d give it another look. Just to the northwest of a track that runs along the west of Backstone Beck and jumbled in amongst drystone walling I counted 9 upright slender slabs that looked more like the kind of thing you buy from a garden centre to create a stone circle in your garden. Having just got hold of a copy of Paul Bennett’s “Circles, Standing Stones and Legendary Rocks of West Yorkshire” he seems pretty sure that it is in fact a double circle with embankment but points out that the overgrown nature of the site and the walling make an accurate determination of it difficult – well I won’t argue with that! He also mentions the isosceles triangle formed by Backstone, The Twelve Apostles and The Grubstones as well as proposing an alignment between The Swastika Stone, Backstone and the Idol Stone (which I haven’t had chance to check out yet), the remains of a possible stone maze and a fallen monolith – I’ll be having a root around for those next time.

Having the benefit of little heather due to burning, there appears to be many suspicious standing stones here. Being new to the game of looking for stone circles, I first spotted standing stones to the left, just before the bridlepath bends to the left. There is also what looked to me like a circle with several large stones to the left after the bridge. I then walked down the little footpath and found what I thought was the circle to the left, right on the edge of the copse. I am still not convinced that I saw what actually is the circle. Perhaps someone else can help.

Absolutely superb setting on a day like today (sunny and windy). Very difficult to get to, I was put off by the angry sign just down the road from the lay-by. Further down the road I duly clambered across the river, over the fence and up the steep escarpment. This was the best circle I have seen for ambience and setting, the view is fabulous.