Hob

This is a good contender for the title of ‘smallest standing stone’.

Or mebbe not. Could it actually be a giant stone, over 6ft tall buried in the peat so that only the tip is showing? Well, OK, fair enough, probably not.

It is fairly close to the road, with only a small wire fence to hop over, and there’s a cairn about 80m to the NNW. So at least that’s something.

Accessible indeed! Roadside stones, in the verge.

Even if you’re in a hurry, it’s probably worth the tiny detour past the little row of houses you can see from the A-road. I barely had time to jump out and bob about for a minute or two, so I was left with a strong sense of wishing I’d had longer to try and ponder these stones in relation to the putative circle and the landscape around it.

I enjoyed visiting this site more than any of the other cairns in the area.

It was totally deserted, and very peaceful. The axehead carvings in the south cist are very nice, and I was quite taken with the capstone of the west cist.

I couldn’t make out any traces of a cup-and-ring on the stone of the south cist, as is shown chalked in Greywether’s photo, but then, maybe the light has to be just right for it to appear. I find it nicer to think it may actually be there, hiding in plain view.

This place would have commanded a fantastic view if there were no trees about. You can’t see much of the surrounding area due to the trees and the house, but it’s in what I believe they call ‘a prominent position’. It would have been visible for quite a distance I’d think.

There are a few larger stones lurking about in the field, some down the bottom of a steep slope that forms the western edge of the field. Another is about 50m to the north, these may have been part of the structure, I don’t know enough about these kind of monuments to pass judgement on the matter.

What I do know is that it has a nice feel, and the Oak doesn’t detract from the place at all. In fact, I’d love to see the place in the winter, it would look fantastic in the snow at sunset.

The folks at the house were more than happy to allow access, providing visitors ask.

Time for a break from all the rock art. So I went to see some standing stones. The 3 Kings is in a nice sheltered spot, and I’m pleased to say that whilst it requires a bit of a walk through pine plantation, the plantation has been managed well, so the trees aren’t packed too close, so that on a sunny say, it’s actually quite pleasant. It’s not a long walk from the car-park at Blakehopeburnheugh where the WC is, and there have even been handrails placed on the precipitous parts, and there are small marked posts to keep you on the right path. It’s easy to miss one of them ,so if you find yourself back at the River Rede, after reaching the point where the path becomes a track, turn back and head uphill.

On the map, it looks as if a shorter route would be from Cottonshopeburnfoot caravan/camp site. It is, but the owners are a bit miserable, and don’t like people parking there if they aren’t pitching a tent.

The four poster itself is quite nice. Gnarly old stones, lichen covered an all that. There are still 4 stones, but one is having a rest. The cairn is still quite clear. The only down side is that the trees have grown back, so the view is limited. It’s a good sun-trap though and makes a smart spot to just sit and relax.

Very nice rock art site.

The photos here by Jan and Gus show what it looked like before the excavation. It looks a bit different now, the cairn isn’t there at all. Instead, there are a couple of motifs that were previously overlaid by the cairn. The results of the excavation concluded that the outcrop had been marked, then some of the carvings had been quarried, then re-marked, but in a way that implied a lack of understanding of the original motifs, and in a much cruder manner. Now I think this might be being a bit harsh on the Bronze agers who made the cairn. The crudeness of execution could possibly be that their motifs haven’t eroded quite as much, and just because they are not placed in a manner that allows the running of water from one to the other, doesn’t make them cruder as such. Whilst they may have not known the meaning of the original markings, it’s got to be highly probable that their own symbols, which are more complex, had meanings of their own.

It’s a great place to check out fresh peck marking. The two most complex designs are so clear you can count the individual pecks, they’re quite shallow and form unique designs, with closed penannulars and a strange keyhole shaped thing with a serpentine tail. There’s also an excellent example of what are referred to as enhanced channels. This is one of the ones that would have been covered by the cairn.

I’d definitely recommend visiting in dry weather when the bracken is low, as there are bogs and the bracken tops 6 feet in places. The ground is very uneven too, so it’s quite easy to trip over boulders, or have a foot or even a whole leg disappear into a crevice. There’s a IA settlement to the west and some BA cairns just to the east, but these are invisible in the high bracken of summer.

I didn’t have time to look for the other panels, but the main one was enough to make me quite content. There are enough motifs, some clear, others really faint, that I found an hour not long enough to appreciate the place properly.

A handily convenient little panel, close to the road, just a short hop up the slope. The motifs were not immediately apparent, as someone had placed small rocks ver them, presumably in an effort to protect them from the elements. This had the advantage of providing a good spot fo a spder to make a nest in one of the cups. It was probably a bit surprised when it the stone lifted up and a hippy started peering at it with a camera.

There are faint traces of an older. Much more heavily eroded CnR, perhaps implying that like the nearby Hunterheugh panels, this one was re-carved at some point. It’s difficult to say, though the peckmarks on the lower CnR are clearer, it could jut be because it’s been covered over, whilst the others have been exposed.

There are a few panels at Snook, but I only caught a couple of them,, the lighting condition were appalling, to be honest the few pics I got are a bit naff.

The rock art is in an area with a cairnfield, one of which is supposedly a ring cairn. It’s also been quite heavily quarried. It’s proximity to ‘Millstone’ Burn gives a hint as to why. It’s really an extension of the Millstone Burn site, on the east side of the burn , with excellent views out over the coastal plain of Northumberland.

The highlight of the visit was undoubtedly the opportunity to see the Northumberland Rock Art Project at work. I have nothing but respect for these dedicated folks, who are giving up their spare time to help try and make sense of these enigmatic artefacts and determine the best ways for them to be protected for the future. The attention to detail in the recording is quite frankly astounding. They are collecting vast amounts of data on the placing and condition of the carvings, as well as spotting a few new panels.

This big old carved slab of a stone has a special place in the annals of rock art as it was one of the first (if not the first) to be recognised a prehistoric relic, back at the start of the 19thC.

There are a good few bits of lesser RA dotted about in the field with the main slab and it’s smaller sibling, many of which quite clearly show the signs of quarrying. The quarry marks on the big slab indicate that it may have had a narrow escape. Perhaps it was recognised as something worth keeping just in time.

I’d advise taking the route up behind the trees, rather than straight up the quickest route, save that for the way back down. The former is a much gentler slope, and as the ground is a bit on the sludgey side when wet, it’s probably easier and safer to go the slightly longer route.

I wish I’d known this when I once lugged a bloody great old style video camera up there. Nearly as much as I wish the tape hadn’t been recorded over. So it goes.

Once you get to the area marked on the map, you can’t miss the slab, stands out like a sore thumb with the smashig expanse of the moor stretching out behind it. The temptation to go yomping off over the moor is almost irresistable. There are cairns, cists, a hillfort, a ruined farmhouse, waterfalls, crags and allsorts of moor-type stuff.

This is an odd one.

I’ve seen a few cross sockets in Northumberland, and I can see why some people have suggested this could be one, as it’s probably been on one of the St Cuthbert pilgramage routes. The one time spring may infer some kind of fonty-ness, and whilst it does have metal chisel marks on part of the groove, it just doesn’t fit the bill as either a font or a cross socket. Not the ones I’ve seen in these parts.

But it doesn’t look like any of the prehistoric RA nearby either, but the area is dripping with such. So I’m going to hedge my bets and say that it’s a prehistoric jobby that’s been co-opted for early christian religious malarky.

Notes in the night

It serves as a very effective marker to let you know you’re on track to get to Ketley Crag after dark. It looms out at you, and the hollow in the side of Chatton Park Hill becomes a yawning gulf of shadow.

An low-profile site if ever there was one.

I include it here mainly from fond memories of dragging some friends out to see it in the early 90’s which was the first time I heard the term ‘underwhelmed’. On that occasion, it actually looked a bit better than it does on the photos here, as it was autumn, and the vegetation was much lower.

A minor point of interest is that the adjacent footpath yielded what at the time looked like no more than a suspiciously spherical lump of stone, about the size of a grapefruit. The benefits of hindsight, and a couple of museum visits have since pointed out that this lump of stone was excatly the right size and texture to be roman ballista ammunition. Such a thing, found next to a late IA defended settlement, within spitting distance of the roman wall, caused my imagination to run rife, creating scenes of valiant defiance against overwhelming odds. Of course, it’s just as likely that this was nothing more dramatic than a bit of target practise.

The floorplan fits well with other excavated settlements in the area, two hutcircles are quite well defined, with a stockyard area, a much reduced bank and ditch. In places, the remains of cobbling can be seen. Generally speaking though, I wouldn’t go out of your way to visit, unless you have a thing about Millstone extraction sites or Curricks, both of which can be found further along the path, as can one of the most peaceful, secluded, truly relaxing waterfalls I’ve ever seen.

It’s a lot easier to find the outcrop now that the trees have gone. You don’t need a gps for this one anymore.

However, the shortest route from the main road is deceptive on the map. The footpath cutting through the old plantation looks nice and straightforward on the map, but in reality, it’s seriously difficult to walk over. Half buried, rotten tree stumps and branches combine with heather to form a rather irritating obstacle course. And that’s on a good day, I shudder to think how awkward crossing this would be if it were wet, when the bogginess would add to the fun.

All of this can be easily avoided by skirting the edges of the old plantation, it’s now got an open access sign, so whilst it seems a bit like going out of your way, it’s much quicker.

When you get to the outcrop, just keep heading to the furthest edge, and the carvings are easily found.

There are at least two overgrown cairns between the outcrop and the road, they don’t look like they’ve been mucked about with, though they are low, so may have been robbed out. They’re not marked on maps or recorded on databases as far as I know.

With it’s cups and multiple rings, nearby cairns and the obligatory view of Simonside, Tod Crag is a nice example of Northumberland Rock art. A bit out on a limb, but it sort of links the more complex motifs found in the north of the county, with the simpler ones found to the southern end of Northumberland. It’s halfway in between, both geographically and stylistically.

The grid ref given in ‘Prehistoric rock art in Northumberland’ is incorrect. Presumably it’s a typo, as it’s exactly 1km out. The book says NZ0587 8395, the Beckensall Archive says NZ 05835 82943 for panel 1a and NZ 05713 82995 for panel 2a. A good tromp for exactly a kilometre in the wrong direction has proven to me that the Online archive is telling the truth. A subsequent trek about the same distance to the North west has proven to me that it’s a good idea to verify your co-ordinates after you’ve entered them into a gps in a hurry. The irony of the whole thing being, that when I finally found the darn things, I didn’t use a gps, the book, or the map. By that time I knew the area quite well, and there was only one outcrop I hadn’t checked, the one with the carvings. Bah!

Havings said all this, Neither are spectacular examples, being quite seriously eroded. The stone is soft around here. But both panels are a lot clearer than the one at the nearby Hallion’s rock . They’re reasonably accessible, especially when the vegetation is low, both are just off the footpath, one either side. Look out for the feeding trough.

Whilst not fantastically inspiring bits of rock art, they add to the general loveliness of the Shaftoe Crags area. Especially neat is the cleft of the ‘Long Byres’ just to the south west of these panels, which I defy anyone to deny as being a prime spot for any self-respecting hunter-gatherers to bed down for the night.

As usual for the area, there is an obligatory view of Simonside, silhouetted against the horizon, but this potentially significant view is annoyingly obscured by trees from panel 2a.

A modest, yet nicely executed bit of rock art.
Two motifs, each with a couple of rings, either side of an enhanced natural basin, directly above what looks like a rock shelter. It’s quite licheny, and when you pour water on the motifs, it trickles down quite nicely into the basin.

There’s a vague line of stones running from here back up the hill to the cairn, but it’s so disturbed, and there are so many other stones lying about, it’s probably just my imagination.

The outcrop is the lowest, and last on the ridge to the north of the cairn, where the land dips down.

GPS stuff: NU 04739 03139, elevation 234m

It’s a really odd shape for a hillfort. Like one standard hillfort that’s ben cracked in half, then each half set against the edge of the scarp, one next to the other. Or perhaps one hillfort with a hinge, which has been swung open, to make two hemispherical forts. It’s been described as being like a pair of half-moon spectacles when viewed from above.

It’s got fair sized banks and ditches, but it’s most salient feature is the great big rock cut basin just on the edge of the scarp, see Pebble’s photo. Given the nearby astounding rock art, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection between this thing and the cupmarks which litter the area.

The NMR reckons there are a couple of cupmarks on this stone, it does make the proviso that the stone is weathered, which it is, but the cups are a bit dubious.

It’s a similar stone to many of those in Northumbria, some of which have undeniable cups, but these two are a bit iffy, maybe it’s because they’ve been well hammered by the elements. I couldn’t for the life of me get a decent photo of them.

Strangely, Stan B doesn’t include them in any of his books, nor are they on the online Archive.

It’s a canny old stone though.

Millstone burn could be viewed as six separate sites, seven if you count Snook Bank over the other side of the burn, more if you take into account the disparate locations of some of the stones listed as part of the same group. Rock art nomenclature can be a funny business, as new panels are discovered. Hence some of these have ended up with unwieldy and not-exactly-inspiring names like ‘Millstone Burn 6c(ii)’.
The OS map marks two concentrations of them, but the Beckensall Archive lists a whopping 65 separate marked stones as part of the Millstone Burn groups, and that doesn’t include those at Snook Bank.

Groups one and two are the closest to the road, with some from either side on either side of the road, just to make it trickier to keep track. A few of those on the east side seem to have been relocated, as they seem to form part of a row of spaced stones next to an old trackway. Stan Beckensall has suggested that this track may be of prehistoric origin, leading from , Simonside, via the rock art at Lordenshaws, the down to the river Coquet, up again to the rock art, standing stones and cairnfield of Addyheugh and through Millstone Burn, across to the ridge of sandstone to the coast, via Corby’s Crags, Lemmington Wood and Lamp Hill, so maybe they have been relocated, maybe not.

Group three is mostly around the 220m contour, just by the trouser-snagging barbed wire double fence. After 3e(ii), things get a bit awkward. The other side of the fence is seriously deep heather, and panels 3e and 3g are flush to the ground, so without a gps, I’m pretty sure I’d not have found them in a month of Sundays.

Group four is back over the fence, onto more navigable terrain, some more complex motifs, but heavily eroded. Back over the fence again (the rock art hurdles or what?) and down amongst the heather for group five, which is really just the one stone, but a nice one worth visiting.

Group six is one of the most interesting of the lot, as it seems to be arranged around a natural feature that screams (to the overactive imagination) “I’m an Ur-temple*! You see if I’m not!” Just to top the sense of viewing-apace, the motifs are on the edges of some stepped outcrop. I still can’t decide if these steps are the result of quarrying or a natural thing. It’s on the heathery (north) side of the fence, but you still need a final hop to get back down to the road.

A word of warning to those in cars, approaching from the south, it’s a dodgy blind curve that ges on for yonks, so be wary when looking for the parking spot. Approach from the north may be easier for those in cars. Alternately, the bus to Longframlington drops you off well placed for a nice hike up past the cairns on mount pleasant.

One of the things that nags at my mind is the sink-hole like hollows that occur near some of the marked rocks. They could be bell pits, I’m not sure. It does seem a bit more than coincidence that they are mostly near the rock art, though I didn’t wander too far away from the RA, so I couldn’t say if these pits are evenly distributed away from the RA. I do know that some of them have tadpoles, and that if you get too close to the edge, you find yourself in deep mucky sludge that hints it goes down a fair way. More background detail that adds to the texture of the place’s histry is the fact that the old roman road runs right next to the area with the carved rocks, and that there was once an old coaching inn hereabouts, of which all trace is now lost.

All told, there’s a lot to be found here, but it’s awkward in places and often difficult to see. Winter visits are probably a good idea. The groups near the A697 are easy enough to find using just the OS map, but if you’re after seeing any of the others, don’t be fooled as I was a few years back into thinking that the western group on the map are on the obvious outcrop. They’re not, and whilst it’s a nice view, I don’t recall finding any carvings. In retrospect, there may have been, but at the time I was expecting soething as snazzy as Old Bewick, so I would have probably missed it if it was there. It’s probably quite easy to miss some even with a gps if the light isn’t right, they can be quite faint.

I’ve a strong suspicion that the reason the motifs around here (including those at Snook) are so faint has something to do with the now extinct power station at Blyth. If this place was chosen partly as a result of it’s excellent views over Northumberland’s coastal plain, it’s position as the first set of propr hills between the sea and the Ceviots has probably also mant it’s got more than it’s fair share of acid rain. Often, there’s a weird microclimate going on here as the air rises and moisture either dumps down here whilst it’s dry a few miles away, or else it stays up in the clouds whilst in Rothbury it’s chucking it down.

One last thing of note about Millstone burn. It’s where Prof Richard Bradley and his chums from Reading Uni did their valiant attempt to apply statistics to the study of rock art. Apparently they found that the more complex motifs are situated where there is a wider view. Whilst some would say this is a bit of a no-brainer, they did try, and so now we know there’s only a small likelihood that the marked rocks were chosen as a result of random chance. But the view isn’t the be-all and end-all of the decision to mark some rocks and not others, else the bigger outcrop to the west would be dripping with CnRs.

These fieldnotes may have been brought to you with the daft assistance of the Millstoneburn mono-tourist board. Come to Millstone, gateway to the Cheviots, and bring a gps device in case you find any new panels!

* You know, those things Cope goes on about in the papery tma. A bit out of fashion these days, but they’re still there out in the landscape, whether they’re a la mode or not.

This has to be up as a contender for the title of ‘rock art with the best view’. It really is in an excellent spot, with the big end of the cheviots arranged directly in front of you, leaving no doubt as to why this spot was chosen to be marked. I was particularly pleased on a recent visit to be able to confirm that the allegedly sacred hill of Simonside is also visible, which is unusual for this end of Northumberland.

What Fitzcoraldo says below about the ghostly appearance of the carvings is spot on, they do have an eldritch quality about them, an effect which is most pronounced in strong sunlight. At times, it’s possible to ook from angles that the motifs almost vanish into the quartzy glistening white surface of the outcrop. At other times, in different lighting conditions, they can appear totally different, and the surface of the outcrop looks much darker, and reflected light can pick the pattern out superbly.

You’d think that they’d be at their finest at sunset, but I found that the trees can cast annoying shadows which prevented the motifs from being highlighted as well as I’d hoped. Pah! One of these days I shall manage to get a good photo which shows the carvings and the view. It’d be great to spend a year or so standing over this outcrop watching it intently as it’s appearance shifts.

The panel Stubob speaks of at the top of the hill is one of the best examples of fresh pick marks, possibly evenmore so that the hidden motif at North Plantation. According to the Beckensall Archive, these fresh picks have been designated ‘Chatton 13’ (with only a 2m difference in the 10 digit refs, good going eh?!).
Whilst it seems a shame to expose such fresh cup marks to the ravages of the elements, they should provide a good indicator of the rate at which the stone hereabouts erodes. This in turn may help in attempts to ascertain the best preservation strategies for what remains of the area’s prehistoric rock art. Maybe.

Chatton 4 is in the middle of a little hillfort, (or a settlement with high banks), this is a lump of stone with carvings. It’s more or less in the middle of the earthworks, and it’s difficult to think that the builders of the earthworks were unaware of the carvings.

The cup and ring on the top of the slab are considerably more worn looking than the ones on the side. It’s tempting to think that this may have been because they were used in some way by the Iron Age (?) folk who built the earthworks. It’s definitely not just the results of natural weathering, more the kind of thing you’d get after years of people running their fingers over the motif. At least to my mind, but admittedly, I am just making this up as I go along

The panel to the east that Pebbles speaks of is that designated ‘Chatton 5’ by the Archive, and has an unusual little motif, both in it’s form and it’s position on a vertical surface.

One last thing to say about Chatton, it can be an infuriating place. There is so much that leaves nagging questions which will never be answered. There are maybe-cairns, maybe-cups, maybe-burnt mounds, traces of maybe-houses. Combine these maybes with the general mystery of the meanings of the motifs, add a strong sense that quarrying and erosion may have caused the loss of some carvings, and this is a place that needs to be pondered in depth.

Obscure, but part of the overall picture, Weetwood North is actually closer to Whitsunbank and Coldmartin Loughs than it is to Weetwood.

There are 2 panels, both nothing to compare with the fancier motifs in the area. Both associated with a robbed out cairn, which is almost impossible to discern these days.

One of the things that intrigued me the most was the ditch that seems to surround the little hillock upon which the cairn is built. If it’s prehistoric (which I have no evidence to indicate one way or the other), then it’s another example of an earthwork surrounding a panel of rock art. Not that I think they’re contemporary with each other, but there may be a causal link. I dunno, it’s something to think about when you’re tromping across moorland in the rain anyway.

I missed the more complex of the two, but details of both are to be found on the Beckensall Archive.

This is a high density rock art site. It’s easily possible to spend a couple of hours wandering about playing spot the carving. There are loads of them, most of them nowt to write home about, many quite seriously worn down. But it’s still fun to hunt about matching them up with their descriptions, just on the off chance that oe has been missed, or that the lighting conditions have revealed ones not recorded before (unlikely, but you never know...).

One thing that is assuredly the case, is that the more complex motifs occupy the higher ground, with the wider views. The main panel, listed as number 3 by Beckensall, has to rank in the top 5 of British rock art sites.

If you’re in a hurry and want to see some fines examples of prehistoric art, then nip up here, and make a beeline for Panels 3, 5 and 6. You could take in all 3, and be back in the car within 20mins.

Alternatively, if you’re not in a hurry, meander across the moor to Whitsunbank and Coldmartin, or if you’re feeling a bit hyper, tromp down to Chatton, then up to The Bowden doors, get a feel for the Till valley, and appreciate the landscape, to try and suss out the placing of the enormous number of carvings around the valley.

It always seems a bit odd to find a hillfort half-way up a hill. You’d think it would have been too easy for attackers to lob missiles down from above.

But, the inhabitants of Rothbury must have had their reasons I suppose. The fort is on a nicely situated plateau, and there are traces of hut circles. They went to a bit of effort to build the double ditch and rampart system, though in some places there’s just a single bank and ditch, as the natural slope is pretty steep.

There’s also a cairnfield with it’s own enclosure running up to the top of the hill, where the burial cairns and rock art can be found. EH say the cairns are clearance, but as they’ve not been excavated, and also as there are a number of confirmed burial cairns, I’d like to know how they could tell by just looking. Like those who build forts halfway up hills, I suppose EH must also have their reasons. As must the people who chose to pile field clearance cairns next to rock art, and then enclose the carin field.

This place lives up to the hype. Not a big panel, and a pretty cramped rock shelter, but such carvings! So well placed and superbly executed, a masterpiece of prehistory.

The motifs at Chatton are snazzy enough, but if you go to Chatton, make time for the ‘Neolithic Lino’ in the rockshelter. It’s right down at the bottom of the slope, so maybe nip down from the top, avoiding the outcrops, then walk along, especially if it’s wet, as the soil is v. loose and rather dodgy underfoot (besides, one should attempt to minimise erosion).

It’s a great place to see how carvings erode over the years, the motifs at the back are worndown where they’ve been exposed longer, whereas those at the front, which were turfed over until quite recently, still have their peckmarks plain to see.

My mind is not convinced by the alleged standing stone just up from the rockshelter. I think it’s equally likely it’s an erratic that’s simply fallen upright as it fell down the slope. There are many others which are at various angles.

Try though I did, I did not find this (again) today. Though the cairnfield is definitely there, and possibly enclosed, I was bamboozled by the crazy weathering on just about every damn stone, outcrop and boulder in this area. And the lovely lichen, some of which is in fruit, which was good to see.

Find that obscure rock art next time, maybe.

Mickleden Beck is a virtually intact prehistoric landscape. A walk along it from east to west is like wandering back through time. The lower end is still farmed today, and has field clearance still going on, within field boundaries unchanged in centuries. As you get a bit further along, past the curve, the remains of medieval settlement give way to BA field boundaries and cairns on either side of the beck.. Throughout the journey, the Neolithic looms omnipresent in the form of Pike O Stickle to your right.

This is such a gorgeously secluded place, the valley is 3-sided, with nice steep slopes on left and right, and when you get to the end, it just stops. Steep slope at the end too. The road to nowhere.It’s quiet too, the sound of the water babbling over the stones is lovely and soothing. Whilst you wander, you can engage in the obligatory game of spot the axe rough-out. We didn’t find owt particularly special, but there were a few bits of andesite that looked very much like the bits that flake off flint when it is knapped.

It’s worth keeping going to the end of the valley, as the sheepfold at the end is sufficiently peculiar to warrant a good pondering. It has two little rooms off to the side, like you’d see on the footprint of an excavated roundhouse. Combine this with a vague bank and ditch, it’s very tempting to think of it as being a re-used ancient dwelling. Maybe they used to polish axes here, you never know…

A good spot on top of the Pike would perhaps lend a view sufficient to show up all of the field boundaries/cairns and maybe help make sense of the confusing jumble of millennia still visible in this fantastic valley.

Oh, and the sheep are inexplicably fluffy. They try to look menacing, but they are just too fluffy to get away with it.

A relocated stone, this one is currently out of favour with the Archaeologists as it’s obviously not in it’s original context.

It currently resides next to the Chinese Pond in the gardens of Walington Hall, where it was placed in the 18th century, having been moved from it’s original position on the NE side of the Poind burial mound near Belsay, on the other side of Shaftoe Crags.

In it’s present state, it’s about 7ft tall, but was probably shorter when in a socket. It’s slightly squared base raises questions of possible interference by it’s re-locators and may also add weight to the argument that the Middleton stone, more or less halfway between Wallington and The Poind, may have also been shifted, as it too has a squared base with heavily weathered grooves and fluting on the top.

Rumour once had it that there was a circle in the vicinity of Shaftoe crags, and all 3 of these stones may have been part of it, it’s easy to imagine a Duddo-like small circle, with similar groovey-fluting.

Either way, this stone seems to have a bit of a ‘somebody-else’s-problem’ field about it in that many people visit Wallington and the Chinese Pond, yet few notice/remember this stone, despite it being smack bang next to the path.

In this position, it’s probably the most accessible of Northumbrtian prehistoric relics, but being in the grounds of the hall, you have to pay the entry fee.

The stone is fairly easy to find, it’s embedded into the south side of the bridge, just under the arch. When the Beckensall archive describes it a 80cm from the bridge, it’s not a typo.

There’s a convenient parking spot just on the bend of the road for those in cars, but beware the humpbacked bridge, it makes a blind summit, and has been the site of a few head-on dunches in the past, so beep as you approach. It’s fairly easy to get down to the stone, there’s a gate in the fence, and a permissive path.

If it’s dry, you’d be hard pressed to make out the rings unless the light was very low. Fortunately, there’s all this water right next to it, so the full motif is easy to moisten to bring out the detail.

I can’t help but think that the people who put it here may not have noticed it, and that there may be others in the immediate vicinity. Given the bridges proximity to the carvings still in situ at Middleton and Shaftoe crags, and the portables at Old Deanham, it’s a good chance there are more marked stones in the area waiting discovery.

Rumor has it there was once a large panel in the area, which has been covered over for a long time now. Hopefully it’s still there and hasn’t been broken up. Lots of the prehistoric stones around here have been broken and/or moved.

When you look at the map, it’s easy to think that it should be possible to get here from the north side of the river Coquet. There’s a nice dotted green line crossing the river, just to the west of the cliff. Do not be fooled. This may be a suitable fording place if the river is exceptionally low, but when I visited, the water came up to me waist and the current was strong enough to cause slight concern.

Still, it was worth it, as this is a unique collection of carvings.

There’s just enough room to scramble along the edge of the river below the cliff, but the ground is quite sandy and loose, and the overhangs mean that quite a bit of ducking and dodging is mandatory, so a hard hat may be another thing to add to the list of required kit.

The panels are spread along the cliff, at various heights. It’s worth checking the Beckensall archive link to get an idea of what’s there, but as yet, no-one has come up with a diagram of exactly where each panel is on the cliff. This isn’t surprising, as it’s a very 3-D surface, and making a decent diagram would be quite tricky. Besides which only nut-cases* are likely to actually go visit such an inaccessible panel of faint carvings, so there wouldn’t be much call for such a diagram.

The site has a quite powerful atmosphere, especially when you’re sitting hiding from the rain under the overhangs of the rockshelter. Perfect opportunity for pondering the whys and wherefores of the unusual motifs. They’re made all the more inscrutable by the lack of any other prehistoric remains in the vicinity, though Beckensall reports that years ago, it was said that there were possible burial mounds nearby.

One thing that occured to me on the way back to Warkworth, is that to a bod travelling up the Coquet from the sea, the hill directly above Jack Rock is the first one which affords a view of the omni-present Simonside. It also seems that the present level of the river is unlikely to have been the same when the carvings were made, but why this should be of any significance is difficult to pin down, other than vague thoughts of why some motifs are ‘up-a-height’, whilst others are ‘way-doon-below’.

* By which I mean, err, ‘Dedicated Rock Art Enthusiasts‘

Another route up to the moor is from the village of Askham, as you can see on the map. this allows a quick route to the top of Heughscar Hill. This allows a good vista over Moor Divock, without having to get all knackered going up the High Street. With a pair of binoculars you can probably make out a lot of the stones and cairns. Without them, you can sort of see the way down to the Cockpit and White Raise.

There are a couple of nice pubs in askham too.

For some reason I was expecting this one to be smaller, even when it was first spotted fron the top of the hill. I dunno quite why, maybe the landscape around here plays havoc with sense of scale.

The stones ain’t big, but the circle is nicely wide, seems to fit in with the openess of Moor Divock in general. It’s well worth a visit if you’re in the area. It’s easier to approach from the east, from the direction of the Cop Stone, which also gives the opportunity to have a look at a couple of cairns and the stone row.

Access:
Just about do-able with a three-wheeler and determined assistance, not suitable for wheelchairs, paths are rough and strewn with cobbles and ruts. If on a bike, try to have suspension.

If you ever find yourself despairing of getting this circle to yourself, but can’t get there when there’s no-one else about, try the following:

Put a blanket over your head, get a 1500kW rechargeable lamp, and hop about from stone to stone, whilst trying to angle the lamp in just the right way to find the spiral carving, mutterring ‘No.... Nope, nope, not this one either...’ to yourself as you go.

Apparently, this works. When I put the blanket over my head, there were about 15 people, when I re-emerged, there were just the folk I’d visited with, looking a tad embarrassed.

If you want to actually find the carving, check out Stan Beckensall’s info, or that on the Rock Art in the British Landscape website. I wish I’d done that, then I’d have seen the spiral, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun...

Caught a glimpse of the boulders on the way to the Old Dungeon Ghyll. I made small ‘eek’ing noises in anticipation.

Then stopped off on the way back, having realised that there is just enough space for a vehicle or two, directly opposite the boulders, but it’s standard Lake District ‘narrow roads with fast cars’, so beware.

The boulders themselves are very nice. The view up to Pike o’Stickle stunning in morning sunlight. It was quite slippy underfoot, and there hadn’t been rain for a couple of days, so if it’s wet, again, beware. There are other cupmarks in the vicinity, but apparently the jury is still out regarding whether they are natural ‘vesicles’ or artificial carvings. Being me, I suspect the latter, I didn’t notice ‘vesicles’ elsewhere, only in the vicinity of Chapel Stile.

The carvings were quite visible, though being on volcanic stone, they are fainter than is usually the case with motifs on sandstone. But at the same time, they are not so eroded, so the peckmarks are discernable.

What was depressing though, was that there are still people climbing over the carved face.

The issue of climbing caused a minor stir, which the British Mountineering Council claimed was needless, as guidebooks would be altered, and a voluntary, self imposed ban would be enforced by climbers.

Whilst this may well be the case with most climbers, the Fell and Rock Climbing Club of the Lake district for exmple, flag up the existance of the carvings, and point out that English Heritage ask that climbers refrain from climbing in the areas containing the markings.

But the message isn’t getting through to all, or so it would seem. ‘Route 9’, the bouldering route over the face with the main carvings, is still being used, and the evidence of this is there for all to see in the form of chalk residue, used to assist climbers in attempting this ‘problem’ (as it is known in climbing circles).

Furthermore, close examination of the surface of the boulders shows that the cupmarks have been eroded over the years, but only on the lower lip, where one would place one’s feet if one were climbing up that face of the boulder. Now this may have taken ages to happen, but the cumulative effect is there, and it won’t get any the less with the increase in bouldering as a sport. Particularly as the Langdale Boulders are regarded as some of the best bouldering problems in the UK.

It’s unfortunate that this coincides with some of the best prehistoric rock art in the UK, surely there must be some way that both can co-exist without damage to this unique site.

I hope so. This is special rock art. Axe factory rock art. There’s not much of that about is there?

It’s a canny old stone this is. It has a strange expression on it’s face. It looks like it’s gracefully drifting across the moor, with a pre-occupied, ‘I can’t stop now, sorry’ sort of vibe.

Having said that, I thought it would be bigger too. Preconditioned by Thunder Stones further down Cumbria I guess.

I was also a bit interested in the other stones poking just up through the turf in the immediate vicinity. You can nearly convince yourself there’s a circle in there if you try. A circle with a shallow pit in the centre, even. Methinks Stubob’s comments are correct, if this was a cairn circle, the kerb is still traceable, and someone’s had a go at the middle.

The path is quite good from the SW, I’d say if you were looking to visit Moor Divock sites, start at this end, not at Pooley Bridge. There were a few cars parked where the road runs out of fence and hedge.

Make sure you’ve suspension if you’re on a bike though, it’s darn bumpy on the behind without it. More than 5 gears wouldn’t go amiss either.

I was sort of compelled to visit, how could I not, given the name connection?

It was late, but there was still enough midsummer sun to make out the parts where the slope is eroding, showing some fairly clear differentiation of soil layers inside the mound. Given that there are so many natural low mounds in the area, it would take a brave archaeologist to openly claim this to be definitely artificial, but what with the name, the strange erosion and the stones in the stream, It’s a likely candidate. It also seemed rather too circular to be a chance deposition of random soil, and it’s within spitting distance of Maes Howe, if that lends any credibility.

Of course, I want it to be an artificial mound, ‘cos it’s where the Hobs or Orkney would live. Though I hear they call themselves Hogboons these days.

This is quite visible from the path from The Cop stone to The Cockpit, a couple are silhouetted on the ridge to the NE of the path. But I’d hate to try and find it in bracken season.

It’s the kind of thing that, without prior awareness, and if it were elsewhere, you’d probably look at and dismiss any thoughts of prehistoric significance as the product of your imagination, or at best, the remains of a field boundary. The stones are low and the gaps are wide, not like the Dartmoor jobbies.

But in this landscape, it’s much easier to imagine it as a remnant of a much wider plan, relating somehow to the other bits and bobs in the area.

There are 4 recognised cairns in this patch, with a couple of other possibles. They’ve all been robbed out to some extent, but the 10m diameter one at NY79627084 has a clearly visible cist cover in the middle. Close by is another 10m jobby, at NY79617080 and a smaller one of 6m at NY79577086. A bit further towards Kings Crags is the largest of the bunch, at 17m, grid ref. NY79867105.

Whilst there is no direct evidence, it’s got to be a fair bet that these cairns were placed in reference to the phenomenal stone of Gwenhyfar’s chair at queen’s crags, which is easily visible in the pictures, which also played a possible role in the placement of the two small stone circles nearby. It’s a darn complex landscape around this part of the world.

8 Digit ref: NY80057103. The cist has two cupmarks on one of the stones. There is at least one more cist about 20m away, but it’s not as clearly defined as the one with the cups. There’s an IA homestead between the cists and the Haughton Common/Simonburn circle, with a nice clear bank around it, currently full of trees, disguised as a disused sheepfold.

Re-visit in Feb 05 with a compass indicated that the natural outcrop at Queen’s Crags is about 80 degrees from magnetic north. I dunno if that’s significant in anyway, I know nowt of these alignment thingies. And I’m useless at using a compass anyway.

I am even more convinced than before that this circle, and the one on Haughton Common, are somehow connected with the phenomenal stone of Gwenhyfar’s Chair at Queen’s Crags.

No sign of the cup marked stones on the shore of Greenlee Lough. Next time they might be feeling more gregarious and will put in an appearance. Maybe.

A visit when the grass was lower turned up a couple of little rectangular cairns, one either side of the circle, each about 20m on a vague SW-NE alignment.

Closer inspection of the notches Bluegloves refers to in the notes accompanying one of his pics, shows that rather than being artificially scooped, they seem artificially filled in. Romans probably, as that wall runs over them. But it made me think that before they were filled in, they would have been a lot more conspicuous, and may well have had something to do with the strange placement of this little circle. Gwenhyfar’s chair probably had something to do with it too.

Like the Matfen and Warrior stones, Swinburne has cups and weathered grooves. Most pleasing to the eye. Unlike all the other stones in Northumberland, this one is of a decent size.

Access isn’t bad, though from the road, the track is bumpy, and there’s a gate. There’s a decent parking spot next to the ex-chapel at Ox hills, and the short walk allows the chance to have a deks at the strange terracing. Permission to sneak off the path can then be sought at Swinburne Castle, where the chap was quite pleasant, and more than happy to allow us to wander, once he’d assured himself we weren’t going to carve out initials on the stone.

These terraces are listed as being artificial. They are fairly hefty too. I was expecting something on the scale of your average ridge and furrow, but these wouldn’t be put to shame by the earthworks on one of those big southern hillforts.

They are complemented by the strange linear rock outcrops to the north of the thin track down from the A68. I suspect similar outcrops underpin the terraces.

This circle seems to be slowly sinking into the ground. From what Fitz explained to me of the local geology, there’s a strata of limestone that’s eroded where a stream cut through it. The immediate area collapsed, forming Osmond’s Gill.

It could be that this is (at least partly) why the circle is here, and why it’s sinking. An underground stream gurgling away makes this a special spot, and the circle is at the head of the Gill, commanding a view down to the Gill and around to the moor, lovely and desolate it is too.

Maybe the water collecting in the inevitable sheep ditch around each stone has hastened erosion, hence the packing stones that are so very evident. I just can’t shake the idea of a time-lapse vision of these stones slowly returning to the earth. The hole under the musical stone Fitz mentions looked like it goes waaaaay deep. It’s a good place is Barningham moor.

Fitz made a very good choice of stone to seek. The front cover of the indispensable Laurie and Beckensall book has a photo of a glorious stone very similar to this. If I were them I’d have picked this one. It’s a dahza!
I’m stumped as to why the hill is called Eel hill though. Seems a bit peculiar, it’s not near the sea, or any rivers that look like they’d have eels in them.

It’s an especially complex motif for the area, and is also conspicuous in that it is the only one on the summit of the hill, whilst the slope on the way up had oodles of marked stones though none with the such a clear cut bowl. It nicely connects the cairns etc (on the slopes below) to the mysterious atmosphere of Osmond’s Gill . It’s a special stone marking a special place.

What an absolutely grand spot! Cup-marked stones all over the place. My eternal thanks go to Fitzcoraldo for showing me this place.

A copy of Beckensall and Laurie’s ‘Prehistoric Rock Art of County Durham, Swaledale and Wensleydale’ is very helpful. The sketched map, cross referenced with the diagrams, means that if you find one, you can find loads. It does appear that there’s a map amiss in the book though. Stones 3-13 are represented on the ‘West and South west’ map, as are stones 19-32. 33-81 are shown on the ‘Barningham- South’ map, but 14-18 aren’t shown. Which is a shame, as from the diagrams in the book, they are some of the more complex in the area, with multiple rings, arcs and pennanulars.

After a nip up to Eel Hill to find the big cup, then to Osmond’s gill and the circle near Howe Tallon, the marked stones of the South side were in shadow, and harder to spot, but the whopping cup of stone 48 decided to reveal itself. The hut circles in this area are quite clear, more so than the enigmatic burnt mounds further down the slope.

It would be a right pain in the neck if the bracken were in full flush, but in the winter, with some nice direct sunlight, the stones are easy to spot at a distance. There are many, many more unmarked than marked though. The shelves with the marked stones, sited as they are either side of the wonderfully atmospheric Osmonds Gill, are extensive markers for what was, and still is a very special place.

I’m slightly perplexed to say these are the most ‘threshold’ of all of the rock art listed by the Beckensall. They are so heavily eroded, Mrs Hob and I were not sure we’d found the right rock, and searched extensively, but found no others.

As Pebbles says, the big flat rock looks like it is crying out for carvings, but has none. It’s a good marker though, being clearly visible from the top of Dod Law.

In high summer, the ferns and bracken make getting under the gorse bush a bit of a clarty endeavour.

This autumn’s ploughing doesn’t seem to have gone any further in. The badgers are still there. The outline of the mound was clearer without the foliage.

However I was quite taken with the large pool which had expanded quite a bit since my last visit. Something about the association between pools and ancient votive practises. It’s probably a pithead from a 20thC mine or something, but hey, idle speculation is fun.

Slightly taller than it’s compatriot overlooking Rothbury, but only just. It just has to be a boundary marker for the cairnfield. I guess there may be have been more in the area, maybe there still are.

The cup marked rock, about halfway between the track and the standing stone, has a lovely great enhanced natural bowl. Slightly discordant is the name ‘Fiona’ carved large over one of the cups.

A couple of the cairns have survived quite well, and kerbs are almost complete. I’ve a slight problem with the idea that the others are clearance, and not grave markers, as f they are the result of agricultural clearance, it was a very half-hearted affair. The rest of the field is still littered with stones that would make it a bit hard to plough.

There are a few excellent glacial erratics, that if they were in Cumbria would merit the title ‘Thunder Stone’. There’s also a  top-notch natural feature in the form of Ship Crag and the dome of outcrop next to it. Mesolithic rock shelter if ever I saw one.

The ground is quite decent going, low heather, boggy in places, but the track is easily followed. As with much of the area, there are a couple of pine plantations, and in the one to the west, heading towards football cairn, is a stone that would be a good candidate for one of these putative cairnfield markers I mentioned.

Rather unsurprisingly given it’s location, it has a nice view of the nearby sacred hill of Simonside.

It’s probably bikeable, but not very good for wheelchairs due to the many streams that are forded by a single plank.

There are only 4 stones remaining. With plantation on three sides, and Dues hill rising behind them, these stones are almost hidden from the surrounding landscape. Remove the trees, and a superb view of the flanks of Simonside could be had. I’d always assumed that this would indicate some kind of deliberate placing of the stones in relation to Simonside, as so many other sites seem to have this hill as their focus.

But I’m not so sure now. Despite the view to Simonside that would be possible without the pine trees, I couldn’t shake my attention past them, and my mind kept returning to Dues hill. It’s etymological connection with the Duergar, the black dwarves of Simonside’s mythology, and the strange nodules in the bedrock were far more interesting than the over densely planted view blockers. Combined with the possible long mound on Hareheugh hill, and the BA boundary dike and barrows at Holystone, not to mention the cairn circle at Piper Shaws, it all just gets too confusing. There are many other sites potentially connected in some way, but I shan’t belabour the point.
Grouse shooting, ever present wet bracken and driving rain didn’t help the pondering process much either. I gave up looking for traces of the fifth stone.

Still, these are large standing stones for Northumberland. The tallest of the kings tops 2m, and it’s quite remarkable to find four in a line in these parts no matter how tall they are.

If you’re sticking to footpaths (as it’s a good idea to do in shooting season), it’s a couple of miles from the handy parking spot on the Hepple-Holystone road. The path via Dueshill Farm gets quite narrow and slippy at points, and the bracken is a pain in the butt. There are a couple of stiles, so disabled access is not good.

Though little, this is the most aesthetically pleasing of Northumerland’s stone circles. The stones are reminiscent of single stones in the south of the county. It’s position links the Lammermuir hills and the Cheviots most nicely. Weathered grooves second to none, with cups marks too. There have been allegations of a burial in the middle, but nothing conclusive has been found, bar some undated charcoal.

Access up the track is easy enough, but the tromp over the field should ideally be done after the crops have been harvested, both for ease of access, and in respect for the farmer, who has had a poor harvest this year.

28m diameter, over 3m high. Right next to the ‘so-called housesteads’ car park, on the other side of the road. Unrecorded 18thC excavation has left a great wide ditch running through the middle. It’s been neglected in favour of more recent, rather irritating archaeology.

There are a couple of smaller relatives nearby, situated, as this one is, in the dip between two picturesque lines of crags. This one is right next to a gate off the B-road, so is much easier to find than the others, which don’t get higher than half a metre, and are easily missed when the grass is longer in the summer.

Possible long barrow. This is contested by some, but asserted by others, who point to the lack of other similar natural features in the area. Claims are also bolstered by alleged traces of stone facing on the SW end of the mound, and the presence of rock art in the locale. Nearby flint scatters add a little bit more credence to these claims, though some of the flints have been attributed to the Mesolithic. I’m not sure of the dates for the cultivation terraces nearby, but they may have more to do with the IA hillfort.

A farmer I spoke to about it said that locals have always believed it to be a burial mound.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t get an answer from the house to get permission to wander about their fields, so I gave closer examination a miss for the time being, and settled for peering through the trees from the nearest right of way.