Showing posts with label barrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barrow. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 November 2010

The Rollright Stones

Thursday 30 May 1998. Having come out of the Motor Museum we saw this excellent chop-topped half-cab single decker bus waiting to pick up passengers for a trip.

The Cotswolds Tour bus wasn't quite ready to leave Bourton-on-the-Water but we were and made our way back to the car to find our last stone circle of the week, the Rollright Stones.

The Rollright Stones are so called because they are close to twin villages of that name.

There are two circles of stones and one monolith. This is the larger of the two stone circles and is known as the King's Men. Legend has it that these are the petrified figures of knights who come to life once a year at the dead of night.

The stone is of limestone, a softer substance that those at Stonehenge and Avebury, and thousands of years of wind, rain and the acidic sweat of curious fingers have eroded the stones leaving them in the gnarled twisted shapes that we can see today.

A bit like me really, but in my case it's a dodgy back rather than the sweat of curious fingers... sigh...

A short distance away is a smaller circle of larger stones that lean towards each other in a tight group. Not surprisingly, these have been given the collective name, the Whispering Knights.

Nobody seems sure whether it was a small stone circle or is a collapsed chambered tomb - what they call a quoit in Cornwall.

Across the main road from the circle is the King Stone - supposedly the very king who the knights were commanded by. The railings prevent further damage by sweaty fingers but do not add much to the mystery and atmosphere!

Speaking of quoits, we saw a tumulus marked on our map - we were using one of the official tourist maps published by Estate Publications. They show just about anything of interest whether it's an ancient ruin or a one-man marmalade maker.

This turned out to be a half-collapsed burial chamber: a barrow, quoit, tumulus - whatever you want to call it. Unfortunately, although there was a small obelisk with a notice from the Ministry of Public Buildings and Works which used to be the government department for preserving these old artifacts, it fails to give the tomb a name. So if anyone recognises this and can provide me with a name, I'd be grateful for any information. I can't be certain now just where it was, even with the aid of the map which I still have...

Return to Wiltshire, Cotswolds and Avon 1998 Index

Monday, 15 December 2008

A Deathly Game of Quoits

Wednesday 7 August 1996. Dad and Fran left me at Chun Castle and I walked a couple of hundred yards to Chun Quoit, pronounced "choon", a megalithic burial chamber. This was older than the nearby hill fort by two or three thousand years.

It was originally built to house the bones of one or more of our earliest farmers who had learned how to grow their own crops and maybe raise domesticated cattle rather than be perpetually on the move as hunter gatherers.

It's one of around eight such surviving quoits (also known as dolmens or cromlechs). The name quoit came about due to early local superstition that the capstones (often the only feature showing above ground) may have been thrown there by giants, playing a game of quoits. They may either originally or at some point in their past have been covered by a mound of earth, a kerbstone suggests at least some form of surrounding structure.

I walked all the way around it a couple of times, enjoying the atmsphere that comes with places that you know were once of some great importance to those who built them, but that some of the purpose may have been forgotten or even misinterpreted by modern scholars. It could easily have been a place where on propitious days / nights / seasonal changes, the holy men of the community may have come here to talk to the spirits of their loved ones or guardians, perhaps inhaling smoke to put them in a trance, perhaps sitting in a circle with their equivalent of a bag of chips, singing Gin Gan Goolie, Goolie, Goolie, Goolie... It must have come from somewhere...

I set the camera on the ground and used the self-timer to take my own photo for posterity.

Turning away from the quoit for a moment this was the magnificent view from the site. Then I braved the gorse spines again (Gin Gan - OUCH! Stop yer warblin', mind yer...) and returned to the car and we drove about half a mile to another quoit, Lanyon Quoit.

Easily found in a field just at the side of the road this quoit was originally tall enough for a man on horseback to ride underneath the capstone without bending his head. My sense of humour would like to say that this is because the horse's head would have crashed into it first, but in truth it was indeed possible to ride beneath the capstone! A violent thunderstorm in 1826 caused the quoit's collapse and it was re-erected, but with the supporting stones sunk deep into the earth. The people of 1826 were taking no chances... "I'm not lifting yon bloody stone again and that's for sure!"

The cromlechs or quoits of Cornwall are as mysterious and atmospheric as you can make them. Lanyon is a bit too close to the roadway to have an atmosphere. At Chun Quoit you can be quite alone with this mysterious chamber of the dead. Would you dare go at night to see if any spirits remain?

Return to Cornwall 1996 Holiday Index

Sunday, 7 December 2008

Ancient Newquay

Sunday 4 August 1996. I don't suppose many of Newquay's visitors go to soak up its prehistoric antiquities but there are some if you know where to look.

First though: breakfast! Is there anything better than breakfast in a holiday B+B? Fruit juice, cereals, a full English then toast and marmalade with coffee or tea and none of it requiring you to stand at a cooker... Afterwards there's just time for a group photo with Dad's Skoda then we are setting off to walk down the hill into Newquay.

High on the cliffs at the northern edge of the town is the Barrow Field where at one time 17 prehistoric barrows popped up over the landscape like zits on a teenager's chin. Most of them have disappeared, dug into and flattened or fallen into the sea as the coastal cliffs eroded. There are a couple left though to give Fran a chance of saying "But it's just a hill...!"

There is also a low earthwork wall that my niece Heather squealed with delight as she ran up it, then squealed with something else as she tripped and fell down the other side... She'll love being reminded of that... Still, the tears were soon dried and she went back for another run up and down... and then another... and then... and...

One of the saving graces of taking lots of photos during the years is that there are very few of me...! My God, did I really wear that??? Never mind... I'll leave that photo out!

The beaches at Newwquay tend to be at sea level. Which is only to be expected but slightly inconvenient as the path is quite a lot higher than sea level. There's a couple of such beaches to pass before we get down into the town centre. Unfortunately there's a few shops to get past too. It's our first day - can't this be done later in the week? Obviously not. It's dinner time by the time we get to the harbour...

Return to Cornwall 1996 Holiday Index