Todmorden Stones

These stones are almost unheard of, but must amongst the tallest menhirs yet to be discovered by the masses.

We began our search on a fresh and bright Sunday in September. Heading for Todmorden with our O.S. map and Bennett’s excellent guide to the stones of West Yorkshire, we had little idea of the terrific beauties that awaited us!

The map doesn’t actually show them, but the settlement of ‘Stones’ has a ‘Stones Lane’, so they aren’t too hard to locate!

Thinking we’d spied a short-cut through Gauxholme, we soon found ourselves heading up the precipitous valley-side at an alarming angle, on an unfeasibly narrow lane! The tiny road petered out and became a rough, rubble track. With my car’s exhaust scraping the uneven surface and my suspension taking a severe pounding, we finally reached a dead-end. About to turn round and begin our descent we spied something on the near horizon.

‘Is that a stone?’

We couldn’t tell from our position, it could’ve been a dead tree-trunk. Whilst we consulted the guide, half-a dozen sheep appeared and were hastily followed by an old farmer, stick in hand, who eyed us up suspiciously. I asked him if there were any standing stones nearby and he said that the one we’d spied was one. He graciously gave us permission to cross his field to photograph the monolith.

It’s a curious thing! Standing maybe twelve feet high, spindley, with what looks like holes on the surface, for attaching a gate! Maybe it was a gatepost that had been moved there? It sat on a large circular stone too, like a mill-stone. According to the 1912 geological survey map of the area, there was no stone here, it’s reckoned to have ‘appeared’ there sometime between 1912 and 1921. Perhaps it was moved there to replace a missing stone? The mound on which it stands is called Centre Hill, but is also known as Beacon Hill, showing it’s use in times past.

After taking a few pictures we returned to the car to get a grid reference for the other stones. We didn’t have to bother though, a friendly resident of the neighbouring house came out and told us where the others lay.

Just to the west of Centre Hill, in the adjacent field, stood the tallest and most impressive of the group. Again, a good twelve feet high.

This one had a ‘prescence’ lacking in the previous monolith. A ‘self-assured’ stone! I noticed faint markings at head height and wondered if they could be old, weathered letters. Bit too indistinct to make out for sure though.

Walking north-west up Stones Lane we found the next monolith. Sitting in a field on the left, only four-and-a-half-feet tall, it would have been easy to miss as it lies near the dry-stone wall.

The stone had a brother originally. It was still standing during the early fifties, but isn’t today. However, at the point where the older maps show it used to be, there now lies a spring. A trough of stones had been arranged around the opening and there sat a stone, about five feet long, said to be the lost menhir. It now forms part of the ‘basin’ that holds the spring water for the livestock.

Livestock that should be extra alert these days! According to the latest 'Northern Earth' journal, a 'large, black feline' was spotted wandering around the West Yorks/Lancashire border at the end of February...

Reported to be 'about half the size of a sheep, with a thick rounded tail', it was sighted 'near the standing stone, at Stones'.

The story prompted another sighting from 3 weeks before at Walsden, another 'long-tailed' black feline, '3 or 4 times bigger than a domestic cat'. Following this were 2 sightings near an animal sanctuary at Blackstone Edge (both by the same woman). Luckily for us, the beast didn’t make an appearance during our visit…

It seems amazing to me that stones like these aren’t known of more widely. Makes me think there could be countless more, waiting to be discovered…

The Dovestones

Whilst searching the internet for information regarding cup-and-ring marked rocks, I came across a website by a man called Gordon T. Holmes. He claimed to have discovered a ‘lost’ stone circle at ‘Raven’s Peak’ near the village of Blubberhouses, North Yorkshire. He described finding the circle, with a stone over seven feet tall! I had to see if I could find this for myself!

At the end of a long days hiking in the South Pennines, myself and a couple of mates decided to make the detour to search out the circle on our way home.

Fatigue and a distinct lack of a nearby hostelry made our wanderings swift, and after walking all round Raven’s Peak, we decided to try the other side of the ravine.

Peering into the valley we eventually saw a single monolith, just visible in the dusk light.

Climbing down we noted the remains of low rubble walls just to the east of the stone. Signs of an ancient settlement?

The circle itself is very small, barely eight feet in diameter if my memory serves. Mr Holmes thought it formed a figure of '8', but I never noticed. I'll have another look in the near future.

The modern Ordnance Survey map doesn’t show any sign of the circle (no surprise!), but when I checked out the 1854 map, it clearly had the words ‘Dovestones’ right where I reckoned Mr Holmes had seen them. Appropriately, the ‘Dovestones’ are on the opposite side of the valley from the popular landmark; ‘Raven’s Peak’.

So, answers on a postcard (or email!) please. What are these enigmatic stones?

The Hitching Stone

Enigmatic, impressive, and largely ignored.

The search for the huge Hitching Stone took us on single-track roads through the windswept fields and moors between Yorkshire and Lancashire, south of Skipton.

From a distance the huge boulder appears tiny, though it’s actually one of the largest in Yorkshire, said to weigh in at a little over a thousand tons. As I trudged towards the rock which sits brooding over the desolate landscape here, I noticed an odd effect. Now, I’m not one for overly-fanciful musings, but the Hitching Stone seemed to grow in stature far more than I expected as I approached. From a distance it looks rather inconsequential… but as you near the place, it’s almost like it takes in a great breath and swells up! Sorry, but it’s an impression I couldn’t shake off.

The day was a typical Yorkshire summer day; windy, occasionally sunny but the sky was teeming with threatening, fast-moving, rain-promising clouds. Right on cue, (and half-expected), the clouds opened to bathe the stone in sunlight just as we arrived. It made me smile.

The most obvious feature on the rock was the hole. About eight feet from the ground, begging to be explored…

Scrambling up the sheer sides, I noticed a chain had been secured to the left wall of the hole, just at the right height for grabbing as an aid to entry! The chamber went back a little over six feet. There were markings on the walls and roof that looked like the hole had been enlarged by man at some point. There was writing carved into the floor by some previous explorer. And at the far end of the chamber was the most curious thing - a ‘tube’ that entered from high on the right wall and exited opposite on the lower left wall. The tube then went all the way to the outer surface of the boulder. Geologists reckon this is caused by a fossilised tree (called Lepidodendron) that has since eroded away leaving the ‘tube’.

Sitting there in the chamber, looking across to the unmistakeable shape of Pendle Hill on the horizon, I became aware of a low resonating hum. It was barely loud enough to hear at first and reminded me of the sound made by a didgeridoo! Then it dawned on me - it was the wind, blowing over the mouth of the fossilised tree hole… Now, that did give me goosebumps!

I climbed out of the hole and began to explore the southern side of the rock. With care, it was possible to climb right up to the top of the house-sized stone, where yet another surprise lay waiting. Near the upper surface, in a hole with three vertical sides and one side gently sloping to the edge, was a pool of water, around four feet wide by eight feet long… the water looked to be maybe three feet deep at the far end. Waves lapped at the rock’s surface. Surreal! A little pond atop this massive boulder?!

It struck me that this place was very ‘experiential’. I could imagine some truth-seeker from times long gone, washing in the pool, settling into the hole within the rock, listening to the trance-inducing hum of the wind past the hollow, watching the sun roll down the flanks of Pendle Hill (which it does at sunset on the equinoxes). Water (the pool), Earth (the land-fast rock itself), Air (the noise of the wind) and Fire (the setting sun)…

One local legend recorded by John Gray (1891) recounts the initiation of neophytes occurring here, the hole assuming the role of one of the many Druid or Priest Chairs found around the country.

There are also two folk-tales relating to the activities of local witches. The first tells how the boulder was named and how it came to sit where it does; being ‘hitched up’ there.

The second recounts how a different witch, this time on the tops of Ilkley moor, was so annoyed at having her view of the land around spoiled by this huge rock, that she stuck the handle of her broomstick into the stone, lifted it high and flung it across the valley.

Definitely not girls to get on the wrong side of…

The position the rock landed or was dumped turned out to be very significant. Not only was it used to mark the boundary between Yorkshire and Lancashire, it also marks the township boundaries of Keighley, Cowling and Sutton. The wapentakes of Staincliffe (Keighley, Settle, Skipton, Stainburn) and Skyrack (Leeds) also converge here. (The Ridings of Yorkshire were further sub-divided into administration areas called wapentakes, the word meaning an assembly or meeting place).

That’s a lot of boundaries! Given that the concept of boundaries or ‘liminality’ in magic and ritual is given great importance by folks with more knowledge on these matters than me, I wonder what significance this has on the site. It was certainly important enough to host ancient councils and parliaments. It was the site of a Lammas fair until 1870, with the racing of horses nearby and curious competitions; Alec Wood wrote in 1973 of the old ‘treacle and pudding eating’ competition!

From the top of the stone we could see another rock, half a mile or so to the north-west. The map showed it to be called the ‘Winter Hill Stone’ so we set off to check it out…

It’s a wind-blasted thing, from one angle it reminded me of the Doubler Stones near Addingham. On the side that faced the Hitching Stone were loads of cup markings, clustered at the base of the rock. This stone got it’s name as it’s said that the winter solstice sunrise appears from behind the Hitching Stone on the horizon. Another date for my diary - although the prospect of hanging around up here in the depths of midwinter before dawn breaks, is only bearable knowing I’ll be sustained by a tot or three of Seasonal Cheer!