The ancient, holy and healing wells of Bodmin Part four: St Petroc’s Well

The last notable well is the town is that found in the local park. This is what is now called St Petroc’s Well has gone through a number of name changes. In 1635 it was called St Guron’s well and in 1639 St Jerome’s Well although this may itself derive from a mispronouncation of the Guron! Thus there appears to have been some confusion with the site by the church and their names appear to have been interposed. Hence many of the early records such as Quiller-Couch miss it.

However, the Petroc association is supported by the well arising in the lands of a monastery said to have been founded by St. Petroc in the 6th century. Tanner records British monks following the rule of St. Benedict about 936. The community existed until about 1124 when it was re-formed for Augustinian Canons. Priory House was built on the site and remains today at the edge of the park.

 

 

A marvelous discovery

A wooden statue of St. Mary was actually concealed inside the well to protect it from Cromwell’s troops. Incredibly it was only found at the very beginning of the twentieth century. After minor repairs and redecoration at Buckfast Abbey, it was returned to Bodmin where it is found in St Mary’s church, whether it was originally from there or the monastery is unknown.

The well today

The well arises in a stone lined chamber at the end of a streamlet beyond the stone channel edge. It is often covered in water as it was nearly completely cover when a flood alleviation system was established in 2001 by the Environment Agency such that only around 30% of the stone structure is visible. A secret mysterious place in a modern park.

 

 

The mysterious Powdonnet Well, Cumbria

Powdonnet Well is a curious site, a large clear and deep pool lined by a wall of rocks, full of spring water beside a fast flowing stream and cloaked in the shadow of a copse of trees marked by a modern monolith which records its name, the relic of a Millennium cleaning up, although other sources suggest 1995! It is an evocative site, but its history is challenging.

The pool lays on the edge of the small settlement of Morland. The church it is claimed lays upon a pagan site and boasted a shrine within. The relics of St Laurence were laid in 666AD in a stone altar within giving the Saxon church a religious focus. This was apparently lost at the Reformation but local tradition records that it was buried somewhere in the churchyard.

Powdonnet derives from the Irish-Gaelic “pow’ meaning pool and donnet referring to a saint called Donat meaning the ‘Pool of St Donat’. Smith in his Place-names of Westmorland 1967 cites that the earliest form was in 1637 as Powdonet and is not mentioned as Powdonnet Well until 1859.

 

Who was St Donat?

St Donat was a little known French saint and there are dedications to him in Wales such as  St Donats castle,in Glamorgan the church guide referring to:

“The church (St Donats) had originally been dedicated to the Welsh, St.Gwerydd, but in Norman times the dedication had been changed to St. Donat, or St. Dunwydd, as it is written in Welsh.

He was a ninth-century saint who is said to have been born in Ireland and who later became Bishop of Florence. For a long time he was very popular on the north coast of France as a patron saint of sailors.”

But how is this saint associated with a spring in Cumbria? This is particularly problematic as there are no local churches so dedicated nearby and the church does not share its dedication. However, it is possible that it records a Celtic dedication lost to the Anglo-Saxon expansion; the last relic of the saint’s association locally. Certainly, it is a primitive site one might well expect associate with the early baptism of a Celtic evangelist. Was this St Donat? What is more remarkable is that unlike many other well sites which have been enclosed in brick and stone, this site retains what it must have been like back in those early years.

Lost holy and healing wells of London: The wells of Westminster.

Perhaps the earliest holy well recorded in the city, is that associated with a vision of St. Peter by fisherman on Thorney Island before Westminster Abbey was built, is told by Sulcard of Westminster in around 1076 in his The Building of Westminster translated by J. Flete’s 1909 The History of Westminster Abbey.  Dating from the days of Abbott Mellitus the founder of Westminster, a bright light was seen by that fisherman on a Sunday night on the opposite Lambeth shore. The ferry then carried across a vision of St Peter who consecrating the new church and as he stepped off onto the shore he is said to have:

“thrusting his staff into the ground behind him he made a flowing spring; then, after he had walked on a little, he thrust in the staff and created another one; and these two springs continued to flow for many years, until at last they were washed away by the river.”

The site was called St. Peter’s Well, and although Sulcard suggests that it was lost two sites surprisingly, were identified by Stanley (1868) as the site a well in St. Margaret’s Churchyard and a pump, in the green of Dean’s Yard. Both are now lost.

A conduit head above St James’ Palace called James Head in 1598 may recall a St. 20 James’s Well, although there is no firm evidence.  However, more convincing is St Clement’s Well which is mentioned J Stow’s 1598 Survey of London states that

 “the fountain called St Clement’s well, north from the parish church of St Clement’s and near unto an inn of Chancerie called Clement’s Inn, is fair curbed square with hard stone, kept clean for common use, and is always full.”

W. Maitland in 1756’s The History and Survey of London notes that:

 “the Well is now overed, and a Pump plac’d therein, on the East Side of Clement’s-Inn, and lower End of St Clement’s-Lane.”

A.S Foord’s 1910 Springs, Streams, and Spas of London reports that:

“the holy well of St Clement… has been filled in and covered over with earth and rubble, in order to form part of the foundation of the Law Courts.”

This appears to be the first specific reference to the change from a draw-well to a pump. D. Hughson (1806-09) London British Metropolis, and T. Allen (1827-29) The History and Antiquities of London both allude briefly to the well, but Sanders (1842):

“The well is now covered with a pump, but there still remains the spring, flowing as steadily and freshly as ever.”

G. R. Emerson’s 1862 London how the great city grew, when discussing the Church states:

 “It stood near a celebrated well, which for centuries was a favourite resort for Londoners. The water was slightly medicinal, and having effected some cures, the name Holy Well was applied.”

J. Diprose’s 1868 Some account of the Parish of St Clement Danes Past and Present, a local inhabitant states:

“It has been suggested that the Holy Well was situated on the side of the Churchyard of St. Clement), facing Temple Bar, for here may be seen a stone-built house, looking like a burial vault above ground, which an inscription informs us was erected in 1839, to prevent people using a pump that the inhabitants had put up in 1807 over a remarkable well, which is 191 feet deep, with 150 feet of water in it. Perhaps this may be the ‘holy well’ of bygone days, that gave the name to a street adjoining.”

J. Timbs’ 1853 The Romance of London: strange stories, scenes and remarkable persons of the Great Town states that:

 “the holy well is stated to be that under the Old Dog’s tavern. No. 24, Holywell Street.”

Foord (1910) states that other inhabitants believe that the ancient well was adjacent to Lyon’s Inn, which faced Newcastle Street, between Wych Street and Holywell Street Foord (1910) also notes that in the Times of May 1st 1874, reads:

“Another relic of Old London has lately passed away; the holy well of St. Clement, on the north of St. Clement Danes Church, has been filled in and covered over with earth and rubble, in order to form part of the foundation of the Law Courts of the future.”

He also notes that The Standard of the 3rd of September 1874 the site is states that report of the Times was erroneous and that the well was still ‘delivering into the main drainage of London something like 30,000 gallons of water daily of exquisite purity’ and that it would be utilised for the new Law Courts. Interestingly, a contributor to Notes and Queries (9th series, July 29, 1899) draws attention to the following particulars from a correspondent, a Mr. J. C. Asten, in the Morning Herald of July 5, 1899:

“Having lived at No. 273, Strand, for thirty years from 1858, it may interest your readers to know that at the back of No. 274, between that house and Holy Well Street, there exists an old well, which most probably is the ‘Holy Well.’ It is now built over. I and others have frequently drunk the exceedingly cool, bright water. There was an abundance of it, for in the later years a steam-printer used it to fill his boilers.”

Foord (1910) states that:

“In order, if possible, to obtain some corroboration of the Standards statement that the spring existed in 1874, the writer applied for information on the point to the Clerk of Works 2 at the Royal Courts of Justice, who wrote that he could find no trace of St. Clement’s Well, so that the report in the Times (quoted above) is probably correct. The water-supply to the Courts of Justice, he adds in his letter of June 13, 1907, is from the Water Board’s mains… On the Ordnance Survey Map, published in 1874, a spot is marked on the open space west of the Law Courts with the words ‘Site of St. Clement’s Well’ this spot is distant about 200 feet north from the Church of St. Clement Danes, and about 90 feet east of Clement’s Inn Hall, which was then standing. The Inn, with the ground attached to it, was disposed of not long after 1884, when the Society of Clement’s Inn had been disestablished.”

On the edge of the pavement in a metal plaque which records the digging of a well and perhaps this is the improved site of St Clement’s well.

A Sylvanus Urban’s 1852 ‘Antiquarian researches’, Gentleman’s Magazine 2nd ser states that a draw-well beneath the Old Dog Inn was a Holy Well and gave its name to the now lost Holywell Street. However, J. Gover, H. Mawer and M. Stenton’s 1943 Place-names of Middlesex states that the name derives from O.E hol, from ‘hollow’.

A Lincolnshire field trip – the Holy wells of Castle Bytham

The name Holy well can often be seen as evidence of an ancient site.  The Holywell parish is the only such place-name in Lincolnshire and many years back I had the opportunity to examine the grounds of the delightful Holywell Hall with its now private chapel. J C Walter in their 1887 ‘Holy wells’ in the Lincoln Diocesan Magazine describes it as:

 “a well standing in a garden, within a few paces of a lake, yet entirely unaffected by it, for when the lake was cleaned out a few years ago, the well remained at its usual height.”

Wild notes in their 1871 The history of Castle Bytham: its ancient fortress and manor, its feudal lords, Vaudey Abbey, &c., &c notes:

“Local tradition tells us that near this well there was formerly a religious house, that holy women lived here, and that by bathing eyes of the blind in its waters, sight was restored… an ancient well still exists.”

In the book the author gives an interesting argument over the name attached to the well. He notes:

“In Bredestorp was a well, which for some reason or other became notorious, and was known in conjunction with a personal name, then represented by the dissyllable Ade. Ade is a Saxon prefix which enters into the composition of female names, and signifies noble, as Adeleve noble wife ; Adelfleda, &c. Hele (in Helewell) is the representative of the Anglo-Saxon verb hielariy to cure. We thus discover in these names the probable groundwork of every part of the local tradition connected with the holy well.”

This would appear to be Bredestorp was the earlier name of the Parish, but it was also called Adewell. Thus, it is surmised that it was associated with the Saxon Ade who presumably was some holy women who founded the religious house but unlike other who may become canonised has been largely forgotten. Ekwall in their 1960 Placenames of Lincolnshire notes that the site derives from O.E hæl for ‘healing’ rather than O.E. halig for ‘holy’.

Although the spring-name Holy Well first appears on the 1887 Ordnance survey map so the current well could be a replacement. However, the parish was called Helewell at least under Henry III However, E Gutch, and M Peacock in their 1908 Country Folklore Vol. VI: Folklore of Lincolnshire found stated that they:

“a “holy well” encased with stone of a polygonal form, shaded by yew trees and within the precincts of the burial-ground”

This spring itself appears dry, but the structure a polygonal stone basin still stands. There are two holy wells here in fact. Antiquarius Rusticus 1926–7 in Some Lincolnshire holy wells: I, in Lincolnshire notes and queries states an another site called St. Winifred’s Well, relating that the springs constant action caused the church to be moved. And indeed the present church is not a medieval one giving some credence to this idea.

Closer to the river is another circular well, this time full of water which may be St. Winifred’s Well, described above, although as this is clearly full may the one referred to by Walter (1887).

Interestingly Ian Thompson in his 1998 Lincolnshire wells and springs notes the main site as St Winifred’s Well at Holywell near Castle Bytham suggesting that there might have been some confusion over the exact site. It is also worth noting that there is an Angel Wells farm in the parish, no springs or wells are recorded in the area and it is a dedication unknown elsewhere which suggests it may not record a holy well but possibly derives from Angles suggesting the Saxon foundation of the Parish

Taken and amended from R. B. Parish Holy wells and healing springs of Lincolnshire.

The ancient, holy and healing wells of Bodmin Part two: St Guron’s Well

The most obvious holy well in Bodmin can be found in the the grounds of St Petroc, the Parish church. First mentioned it would appear in the life of the saint Petroc of the 12th century which records that the saint Petroc built habitations where Vuron (Guron) lived in the valley by the well.  Richard Carew was the first to describe in detail of the well:

“runneth thorow the churchyard, the ordinary place of buriall for towne and parish. It breedeth therefore little cause of marvaile that every generail infection is here first admitted and last excluded.”

A. Quiller Couch in their 1894 Ancient and holy wells of Cornwall describes it as follows:

‘‘Near the western doorway of St. Petroc s Church is a plain oblong little building, with a highly pitched roof, and a doorway with a Tudor heading in the southern gable. It was originally built of granite slabs throughout, but has in later times been patched by the insertion of masonry of local stone. The present structure is not of great age, perhaps of sixteenth century date, and contemporary with the two monstrous gargoyles at the issue below, over which is carved a.d. 1545. Another inscription over the shutes is a.d. 1545. The water of St. Guron’s Well is not now poured out at the ancient outlet, which is about seven feet below the surface of the churchyard ; but, collecting, runs never failingly through the mouths of two hideous heads, one horned, the other with pendent ears.”

Quiller Couch refers to Carew by suggesting that his description and link with the burials:

“This prejudice has done much to limit, especially among strangers, the use of this spring of excellent  water. It now comes through glazed pottery pipes from a great depth, and interments in the church- yard have long been discontinued. Night and day, in the driest and hottest seasons, ever flowing, it serves the people with crystal water; a side trough refreshes the passing cattle ; and it lays the dust of Bodmin streets ; it rolls on, with the Priory rivulet, through the valley, past Scarlet’s Well, to pay its tribute to the Camel at Dunmeer.”

Who was St Guron?

Of the saint he says:

“Looking into the misty past, about the middle of the sixth century of Christ’s birth, we see dimly a saintly man, Guron by name, pushing his way, the first Christian missionary to these parts, and settling at Bodmin. The place was then, probably, a deep-wooded glen, through which a constant rivulet ran, surrounded by trackless moors. Here rude Britons dwelt, and fed their cattle on the broad moorlands ; part venatic, part pastoral, in their habits ; heathen, nearly naked, and savage. St. Guron settled down among these wild Celts, unarmed except by the weapons of faith, and the example of a sober, religious, and useful life, assisted possibly by some of the leech’s cunning. He soon commended himself to the rude inhabitants of the valley, and gradually taught them the precepts of Christianity. After a few years he was joined by another holy man, St. Petroc, who watered the seed thus sown, and from the small be- ginnings of this simple hermit’s cell, lived to found a religious house, which grew to be, later, a priory of Augustinian monks, St. Guron resigning his mis- sionary charge to the new-comer. If we may judge St. Guron’s Well. from all that is left us of this age before records, the pioneer St. Guron started in search of a fresh field of labour, and found it at Gorran (St. Guron), on the southern coast of Cornwall.”

Adding:

“We know enough of the simple lives of these early apostles to show that in their choice of a spot for settlement they generally pitched their tents, or built their hut, or digged their cell near a constant spring of water, — one of the primary necessaries of even the most ascetic of lives. It is no great stretch of fancy to think that the good Guron fixed his dwelling by this perennial spring, then welling forth from rocks, under shelter, leafy and umbrageous, and still flowing, with different surroundings, to this day.”

It is believed that St. Guron was a hermit who established his cell where the current St. Petroc’s Church is and he is generally thought to be the town’s founder. It is said that when St. Petroc arrived from Padstow, St Guron gave up this hermitage and it was converted to a priory and moved to the settlement which is now called Gorran.

Interestingly the name St Guron only appears on the OS map of 1880 suggesting it may have had an earlier name, possibly St Petroc. Or rather was it first called St Guron, then St Petroc based on his priory foundation and then afterwards renamed after its founder saint.

Saint Petroc however still has a greater presence here because the church boasts a rare survival am ivory reliquary case which may have contained the saint’s remains. The well had recently been restored in 1891 The conduit house appears to have gained a freeze, which shows a rather headless saint and a cross when it was restored again in 1925. It is now dry but there is a considerable amount of water that flows beneath it, although not always through the evocative gargoyles’s mouths!

Unusual happenings Mary smiles in the Ukraine Source Source New series No 1 Autumn 1994

From time immemorial, the Ukrainian nation has shown a tender and filial devotion towards the Mother of God. In 1037, the grand prince of Kiev, Yaroslas the Wise, consecrated his capital and his country to Mary, and thousands of churches, monasteries and chapels were placed under the protection of the Ma-donna. They sheltered hundreds of miraculous Icons. The Virgin is the Queen of the Ukraine. After the occupation of the western territo-ries of the Ukraine in the course of the Second World War, in March 1946 the Russians mar-tyred the whole Ukrainian Catholic Church, by blood and the sword. Those who remained lived on in the catacombs. Driven to fury by the active and passive resistance of the Ukrainian nation, they unleashed a new attack against the centres of the Marian cult, and destroyed many venerated images of Our Lady in the Ukraine. However, for a long time they did not dare to attack the miraculous icon of Our Lady of Zarvanytzia. They had closed the sanctuary, but they had not touched the icon. So the local inhabitants spontaneously decided to keep watch over the holy image, day and night. In the summer of 1957, a detachment of armed police entered the village, invaded the sanctuary, and despite the lively opposition of the inhabitants, carried off the icon by force. The church bells were rung to summon the help of neighbouring villages but it was too late. However, underneath the chapel of Zarvan-ytzia there was a source of water known as “the well”. On the same day that the icon was confiscated by the authorities, an absolutely identical image of Our Lady was seen reflected in this spring. Everyone saw the face of the Madonna in the water, marked with the deepest sadness. The news of this miracle rapidly spread throughout the whole of the Ukraine, and thousands of pilgrirhs began to pour into Zarvanytzia from all parts of the country. The authorities were disturbed by this enormous upsurge of faith in the people, and despatched a commission of enquiry to the shrine from Kiev. The replica of the miraculous icon re-appeared in the water of the spring, and the members of the official commission of enquiry were com-pelled to testify publicly that they had seen the reflection of the said icon on the water.

During the summer of 1958 a second commis-sion of enquiry was sent to the shrine, this time direct from Moscow. Not long after this visit, the Communist authorities ad-vised the people that the icon would be restored to its place. The pilgrimages of the faithful became even more numerous. Eventually, on 14 October 1958, the long-awaited day arrived when the Soviet authorities returned the icon to the people. The Ukrainians re-installed it in its place of honour in the church of Zarvanytzia, and the Catholics considered this restitution of the icon as a great victory of their faith which the Madonna confirmed by a prodigy. This information was sent to us through the Ukrainian emigration centres of Europe and America. We know some people in England and Philadelphia who have in their possession pho-tographs, sent to them directly from Zarvan-ytzia, which were taken on 14 October 1958. (B.Kurilas, C.SS.R., Notre Dame des Temps Nouveaux )

Extracted from Miracle of Mao; 1988. By kind permission of Augustine Publishing Company, Chulmleigh, Devon.lX18 711L.

The curious case of the dragon, the sunken church and the petrifying spring – the Dragonbury Dragon

It may seem an odd site to describe in a blog about holy and healing wells and springs, but this natural feature is a curious by-product of a possibly a significant spring.  This dragon is a natural feature formed by the build up of limestone from a spring. Two local traditions give the reason for its existence one that a local wizard turned a dragon to stone and another bizarrely that it is the top of a church which sank into the ground with its congregation still within. The earliest reference to the dragon is by the antiquarian Abraham de la Pryme (1671–1704), who visiting in July 1696 said in his diary:

“The 18th instant, being Saturday, I went to see a place, between Sanclif and Conisby, called the Sunken Church, the tradition concerning which says that there was a church there formerly, but that it sunk in the ground with all the people in it, in the times of popery. But I found it to be only a fable, for that which they shew to be the walls thereof, yet standing, is most manifestly nothing but a natural rock, which lifts itself out of the ground about two yards high, in a continued line, like the wall of a church, etc.”

The sunken church legend is interesting and obviously reveals more indeed a footnote in Pryme’s diary written by Charles Jackson (1809–1882) in 1870, says:

“Sunken Church at Sancliff (sic) yet exists, and is known by that name. The story is that the church and the whole congregation were swallowed up by the earth, but that on one day in the year (the anniversary, it is believed, of that on which the church went down), if one goes early in the morning he may hear the bells ring for Mass. The legend cannot be accounted for. A similar tale exists, I understand, about various other places in Britain and Germany. There has clearly been no church here. The stone is certainly natural. It is not so high now as Pryme reports. The earth has probably washed down the hill and raised the ground about it. There are some marks or furrows on it, which may be very rude carvings, but this is doubtful. As large stones are a rarity thereabouts, and as this is visible at a considerable distance, it may have had heathen rites connected with it, which have given a weird memory to the spot.”

In 1900, Henry Preston. F.G.S. (1852–1940), one of the founders of Grantham Museum, wrote :

“In a field on Sawcliffe Farm, in the parish of Roxby-cum-Risby, North Lincolnshire, there is a deposit of uncommon character and singular beauty. It is particularly interesting to the lover of natural objects. Locally it is known as the “Sunken Church”. An ancient tradition informs us that it was a church attached to one of the monasteries, and was buried by a landslip; or, according to Abraham de la Pryme, the Yorkshire antiquary, who visited it in 1696, the tradition is that the church sunk in the ground, with all the people in it, in the times of Popery.”

It would be more likely that the concept of a church is more ancient that the Christian interpretation and it is probably a record of pagan practices at the site. Indeed it is interesting that at the ‘head’ of the dragon is natural basin, akin to a bullaun often seen in Ireland associated with holy wells, which may suggest religious rituals happened there and indeed there is also a channel which runs down from the basin. One immediately thinks of libations which could be poured into lit which would flow down the dragon. Certainly, Harold Dudley in his 1931 The history and antiquities of the Scunthorpe and Frodingham district thought so

“Standing within a short distance of a notable prehistoric settlement, this isolated rock may well have been the object of heathen veneration and the scene of early worship.”

Ian Thompson in his 1999 Lincolnshire springs and wells that:

“It was even said that if you went to the place on the anniversary of its disappearance you would hear the bell ringing for Mass!”

What is interesting is that the site was never Christian, as a settlement it continued through the Roman period and possibly into Saxon times when it apparently disappeard. Thompson suggests that:

“The most likely explanation for the evacuation of the site c.700 A.D. is that it was too powerfully pagan. Most pagan sites could be ritually cleansed and their altars destroyed, but there was no way of destroying the dragon. Instead the spot seems to have been shunned, at first perhaps with horror, and later no doubt as a place of ill-omen. It is easy to see how, in the aftermath of the Reformation, a legend associating the site with an old and distrusted religion might come to be re-interpreted in terms of ‘popery’, and its cultic centrepiece explained as a sunken `Romish’ church.”

Interesting, local landowner, Lady Winifride Elwes, a noted Catholic, decided when she built the cottages nearby in 1912 chose the name Dragonby in honour of the dragon when the area was resettled for iron working. Sadly, the days of the dragon are numbered as Ian Thompson records:

“Dragonby subsequently acquired a drift-mine and water had to be pumped from the area in massive quantities to keep the galleries dry. Mining operations ceased in 1981 but pumping continues for health and safety reasons and the spring no longer flows. Some indication of the drastic effects of water extraction can be gauged from the existence, 50 yards downhill, of a large depression in the landscape. It used to be a brimming pond.”

This has obviously dried up the spring and those made it more vulnerable, he adds:

“I have been paying friendly visits to the dragon for most of my life and am sad to see, each time I come, some further deterioration in his shape and texture. No doubt acid rain and chemical vapour are the chief culprits for 40 years ago he was still in a good state of preservation, looking much as he must have looked when a group of Iron Age migrants first viewed him with awe, and decided to adopt him as their tribal god.”

Despite what Ian Thompson states the site is still a remarkable and unique one and deserves to be better known.

Severed Heads and Sacred Waters – Anne Ross (illus. R.W. Feachem) Source Issue 5 Spring 1998 part two

The River Thames gets its name from the Celtic Tamesis, “the Dark One”, probably the name of a goddess, because rivers seem to have largely been thought of as being feminine by the Celts. This is interesting because Adamnan, biographer of Saint Columba, mentions a river in Scotland called, in Latin, Nigra Dea, “Black Goddess” (Watson 1926, 50). Thus, here the river is the goddess, and so, we may suppose, was the Thames. There is, in fact, a whole series of “black goddess” rivers in the Scottish Highlands. The Nigra Dea of Lochaber is the modem River Lochaidh. So the name of the Thames itself points to an early belief in its dark powers which led, no doubt, to propitiatory sacrifice. It may not be irrelevant here to mention the fact that the ancient Irish goddess Macha, whose form was often that of a crow or a raven, had human heads offered up to her as her due, usually heads taken in battle. These were known as Mesrad Machae, “Macha’s Mast”.

We began by looking at heads and boundaries and this theme recurs when we consider the heads taken from Thames and Walbrook. The Walbrook, “Brook of the Welsh”, a former tributary of the Thames, shared with the larger river an amazing offering of human heads. Moreover, the Walbrook was a boundary river. Many human skulls, most of Iron-Age date, were found in the Walbrook, some forty-eight of which are recorded. They showed no sign of injury and, predictably, they were usually the skulls of men in the prime of their lives, under forty years of age. Human skulls were constantly found when the River Thames was dredged in the nineteenth century, often together with important finds of metalwork, mostly weapons, some of stunning workmanship. One location near Battersea Bridge, famous for its finds of Celtic metalwork, was actually known as a Celtic Golgotha in the nineteenth century (Cuming 1857, 238). Because of the fine quality and richness of the metalwork the extraordinary number of human heads tended to be disregarded. Cuming wrote a paper entitled “On the Discovery of Celtic Crania in the Vicinity of London” -a fine title – but a year later his attention was diverted to the stunning Battersea shield, and he seems to have lost interest in the skulls.

A large number of skulls was then found in the river at Strand-on-the-Green, but this hardly received mention. People virtually forgot about the skulls. Then it came to be realised that the great quantities of metalwork in rivers and lakes in Britain and Europe must be there due to ritual and offering, rather than being casual losses, which is how they were usually described: but no mention seems really to have been made of the human remains that were often found with them. It seems that the discovery of Lindow Man, and the female head found in the same level of the Moss, touched off a new interest in the London skulls. Could these, after all, owe their prolific presence in the waters to ritual, it was asked. In the same light we must consider the skulls at Wookey Hole (Ross 1992, 142-3), and other such finds in watery places.

Forty-eight skulls have been recovered from the Walbrook, and others from Kew and Hammersmith. It is extremely fortunate that about 300 skulls taken from the Thames still survive today in museum collections; and this enquiry has set in motion a new interest in skull collections generally, and in the find-spots. A great many of the Thames skulls were found between Richmond and Mortlake. The same area has yielded major finds of Bronze Age and Iron Age metalwork. Some of the skulls are dated to the late Bronze Age, which demonstrates a convincing continuity of ritual and practice of the cult of the head in connection with watery places. Of particular significance is the fact that rarely if ever were the skulls found together with other human remains. The skull itself, then, is the part that was offered. The continuity of this practice did not end with the coming of the Roman period: there are a few skulls dated to the post-Roman, Saxon, era.

Noteworthy are the ten human skulls and six mandibles which were found in the River Lea, a tributary of the Thames. It is interesting to note that Ekwall suggests, on etymological grounds, that Lea is likely to mean “the river of the god Lugus”. The Lea, then, flows into the “Dark One”, and surely some ancient and profound cult is indicated. Is it by chance, I wonder, that Bran’s head was brought to Londinium as a talisman, and buried in a place where many springs flow, as an apotropaic emblem, in order to keep all invaders away from Ynys Prydein, “The Island of Britain”? It is to Ireland we must turn now for some further dramatic evidence for the cult of the head, as attested by archaeology. The excavation of a destroyed late Iron Age burial at Kiltullagh, Ballyglass, Co. Mayo, has yielded further evidence of the cult of the human head (Cribbin et. al. Emania 1 f.). On the borders of Mayo and Roscommon a quarry opened up in 1991 destroyed important evidence but incidentally revealed some interesting features.

 

The margins of the quarry remained undisturbed, and there were indications that there had been a large mound before operations had begun. The date is in the late Iron Age, and a large stone that was present would seem perhaps to have served as a boundary market An almost identical mound lies undisturbed on the Roscommon side of the county boundary, and excavation of this may cast light on what remains of the destroyed Mayo site. The place was used for burials of some kind, but its particular interest for us here is that it would seem once again to cast light on Iron Age cult practice with regard to the human head. About seventy fragments of human bone were examined, but the singular feature is that they were for the most part skull bones and mandible fragments. The bones were fragmented and had dearly been damaged by the quarrying. Fragments of skulls both male and female were present, seeming to belong to some four people. The fragment of the mandible of a young child, aged about three to five years, was recovered more recently. There is no evidence that the burials were contained in any form of cist, or that they were articulated. Most interesting to us are the skull fragments. It is unlikely that conventional burial was carried out at this site, the amount of bone other than skulls and mandibles being far less than would be expected with a normal burial of up to five people. Some kind of ritual deposit associated with the head cult is indicated. It is now apposite to consider a closely similar skull burial found recently at Raffin, Co. Meath (Raftery 1994, 80). Here an internal bank surrounds circular houses of both Bronze Age and Iron Age date, itself an interesting point. Here also was a standing stone at the base of which were buried a human skull and some animal bones. The skull fragment produced a date of 100 B.C. to A.D. 30. The Bronze Age houses would certainly favour an earlier date for some at least of the site; but Irish sites tended to have a long continuity where ritual activity or superstitious regard kept their significance alive. The Kiltullagh bones included those of pig, cattle, and others. These skull burials beneath standing stones bring to mind such parallels in Gaul in the Roman period as, for example, an altar dedicated to the Celtic Mars at Apta Julia – Apt, Vaucluse. This was found to have a duster of some eight skulls buried beneath it (Ross 1992, 99). The skull at kaffin would seem to have been that of an adult male. Raftery describes the site as an Iron Age hilltop of suggested ritual character (Raftery 1994, 80). There may perhaps have been a monument here comparable in function to the great royal centres. The skull was actually in a pit, the position of which was marked by a squat, naturally-rounded boulder. Emain Macha – Navan Fort – situated on a hilltop near Armagh, is perhaps the most important ritual site in Europe (•ynn 1991, 41 f). The head of a Barbary ape discovered there may perhaps indicate both the worship of the head and the special place accorded to an exotic species. Its presence has led to much speculation about how and why it came to be there. The name of a lough at the foot of the hill – Loughnashade – means, I think, “Lough of the Treasures”. And treasures it did indeed contain. Many have been recovered from it in the past: four magnificent sheet-bronze trumpets have been preserved from a dredging of 1798; it is not in question that these were ritually deposited. The recovery of human skulls also from the lough makes parallels with the Thames and other British rivers, and their caches of skulls and metelwork, very dose indeed. Gregory of Tours, in the sixth century, mentions a lakeside festival in Gaul during which votive offerings were thrown into the lake.

We are not told whether these included human skulls.

Another very unusual ritual site forms part of this fascinating Navan complex. It is known as the King’s Stables, and consists of an artificial pool sunk deep into the ground. The evidence shows that this had been constructed for ritual purposes between 1200 and 600 B.C. A layer of charcoal was discovered when a hole was dug during a fencing operation in 1987. The monument survives in reasonably good condition for a small site, and for one of such a great age. Many large prehistoric monuments in the district have been entirely destroyed, and much of value doubtless lost for all time. The artificial pool has a fearsome guardian in the form of a dragon-like creature, and fear of this guardian may have served to preserve the site. There is a tradition that a passage leads from Loughnashade to the King’s Stables. The artificial pond is always full of water, and folk tradition has it that the kings of Ulster “loing ago” used to water their horses there, and wash their chariots. One day a local character decided to drain away the water. He began to cut at the bank and “to destroy its fine round shape”. He had hardly started, however, when the monster appeared, and you could hardly see the water because of its great size. He was never the same again, and was confined to bed for some time after this encounter (Emania 2, 20). Of great interest in this context is the deliberate deposition in the King’s Stables pool of part of a human skull. The skull, seemingly that of a young male adult, showed signs of cutting after the individual had died. It was the facial part of the skull that had been deposited, forming a kind of mask. We may compare this with the skull from Gournay (Lynn 1991, 40).

Similar ritual treatment of skulls is known from other Irish sites. For example, a skull found below the crannog at Lagore, thought to be that of an adult female, lacked the lower mandible, as did a skull found in open water mud to the west of the Late Bronze Age occupation at Moynagh Lough, Co. Meath. The skull of the Barbary ape found at Emain Macha may have been all that was buried there, and may have served as some kind of talisman as did human heads. The Thames skulls and other heads often show a similar ritual treatment. And these skulls, too, were predominantly those of adult males. Skull deposits from Ballinderry raise interesting questions about the use of wet places – which recall Lindow Moss – and it is clear that there is some significant evidence for settlement in such locations in the Late Bronze Age. At the same time there is clearly a continuity of the long-established pattern of using rivers, lakes and bogs, as well as wells and deep shafts, as places for ritual deposits (Lynn, Emania 9, 1991: 40, 41).

These are only some of the seemingly ritual deposits and treatment of heads in the Late Bronze Age and Iron Age as attested by archaeology. I have spent some time in discussing these in order to establish a clear and striking antiquity in Europe for the use of the severed human head in Celtic religion, and therefore in Druidic practice. The theme of the prophetic head is well known, and it is interesting to note that one of the incantations for fore-knowledge used by the Druids and esoteric poets of Ireland was called Dichetal di chennaib, “incantation by means of heads”.

As the classics imply, the setting up of human heads in forts and dwellings secured protection – most probably by inspiring fear in the enemy. Even today, in parts of what was Celtic Brigantia (“The High One”, the eponymous goddess of the region; modern Brigid), heads are regarded as bringing good luck or keeping bad luck at bay. The protective fossilised skull of a young woman at Bettiscombe, Dorset, has been discussed in this issue, and there are others in various parts of the country, accredited with apotropaic powers. Stoner heads are often believed to have a potency similar to that of the real skull, and much superstition still attaches to them.

I have already discussed individual wells associated with a head or heads in publications which are detailed in the bibliography. Space does not permit me to recapitulate them all here. The Highlands and Islands of Scotland are studded with place-names connecting the human head with some well or source, ford or lake, and the same applies to Ireland. Wales, too, as we have seen, has its own share of these; and here, as in the other Celtic countries, the stories and lives of the numerous Celtic saints contain legends concerning the origin of some spring or well through the power of their decapitated heads.

Perhaps the finest well in this country dating from the Roman period, and containing evidence of skull-worship is that at Carrawburgh, in Northumberland (Allason-Jones and Mckay, 1985). Named Coventina’s Well after the presiding goddess – who was also venerated on the Continent – excavation yielded many sacred objects which had been cast into or suspended above the well. From our point of view, the human skull is the most telling. Whether it was first used for purposes of healing, or of prophecy, or of protection -or any or all of these – we shall never know. Its mere presence at the bottom of a hallowed well in a remote part of Roman Britain adds important evidence to the archaic and deeply rooted association of severed heads with sacred waters.

Finally, I want briefly to tell again the story of my own experience of a severed head and a sacred spring, in the Highlands of Scotland. Like so many wells in this wild terrain, the well was known as Tobar a’Chinn, “The Well of the Head”. The skull is famed for its ability to cure epilepsy, of which there was a great deal in the Highlands in the past. The power of the skull could only operate, however, with the potent waters of a mountain spring. The sacred water must be drunk from the human skull, and so the cure was effected. This well and its healing properties were renowned the Highlands, and people came from the Islands as well as the mainland to obtain the cure.

The well is situated on a mountain-side in a wild region of Wester Ross. I visited the township some years ago, and talked with the guardian of the skull and the well – for guardians are an essential and archaic feature of such healing sites. The skull is allegedly that of a suicide, and was found lying on the ground some two hundred years ago, according to the tradition. The “wise men” of the community recognised that it would have powers to heal epilepsy, skulls of suicides allegedly being very potent in this respect. The waters of the spring were already accredited with healing powers, and it was somehow recognised that the well and the skull together would have magical powers; but always to be invoked in the name of the Trinity. The skull was taken up to the well, and was kept in a small stone dst at its side: and there it remains to this day. The guardian, a local healer, was appointed, and the position has remained in the same family to the present day. The well must not be visited for any purpose other than the healing of epileptics: it is the deeply-rooted belief that the powers of the water are not inexhaustible, and must be expended with great care. The skull, too, must only be used in the healing ritual -otherwise it must lie hidden in its stone container. The healing takes place after the last rays of the sun have left the mountain and before first dawn. The climb, and the descent after the ritual has been performed, must be made in silence. I was privileged to visit the well in the dead of night with the guardian, who explained the ritual to me in detail. He told me that after the healing was completed, and the sacred waters had been drunk from the skull, he “put the prohibitions” on the patient. This is a very archaic feature; it occurs in Old Irish in the form of the word geis, (pl. gessi), meaning a tabu, a prohibition, a ritual constraint. Geas is the word still used in Scottish Gaelic, and it is this that the guardian of the well used. It was a rare and awe-inspiring experience, one which seemed to take me right back into the Celtic Iron Age. It gave me a completely new insight into these ancient beliefs and healing rites, all explained in the archaic Gaelic language. I shall always be profoundly grateful to the guardian who so generously instructed me in this sensitive tradition.

Summary and Conclusion The ancient Celtic belief in the powers of the severed human head was widespread and deeply rooted; and it was so firmly embedded in the Celtic subconscious that convincing traces of the ancient veneration accorded to the skull are still extant in the present day. The evidence for the antiquity of this cult is found in archaeological contexts from the Bronze Age onwards, and it can even be traced to the Neolithic in some areas which were to become Celtic at a later period. The head was believed to survive death, and to be capable of speech on occasion, and of movement and poetic utterance (Ross 1992, 94 f). Its powers were those of healing, prophecy and fore-knowledge, fertility and protection, according to traditions down the ages. Skulls were often treated in singular ways as in the case of the Irish skulls, and we are unlikely ever to know the full significance of the small parts of human heads which are often found, clearly deliberately deposited, in archaeological contexts. We briefly considered the important group of temples and sanctuaries in southeast France, dating to centuries immediately before the Roman occupation. Here mediterranean influence is attested by the stone temple buildings and the sculpted representations of gods and heroes in the local limestone, for example. Sophistication here combines with potent evidence both for head-hunting and head-worship, and the connection of heads with sacred springs and waters. Today we can still witness faint but cogent traces of this ancient cult, with its roots in Druidism and Celtic tribal society; and we may say that the symbol of the human head, especially in association with sacred waters, truly epitomises Celtic religion. When paganism officially gave way to Christianity, there was a natural fusion of god head and the Godhead. The head of the Welsh Bran the Blessed perhaps symbolises this most poignantly (Jones and Jones, 1977, 49), a head buried in Londinium where the cult of the Iron Age Celts is attested by a dramatic assemblage of human skulls deposited in the sacred waters of the River Thames and its tributaries. Future dredging of rivers, and excavations of Iron Age sites, will no doubt bring to light further evidence of these ancient cults, and perhaps add welcome details to what we can reconstruct of ritual and offering, Druidism, and the nature of the gods invoked.

Bibliography

Allason-Jones, L. and McKay, B. 1985. Coventina’s Well. Chesters Museum.

Benoit, Fernand. 1955. L’Art Primitif Mediterraneen de la Vallee du Rhone. Gap: Editions ORPHYR.

Bradley, R. and Gordon, K. 1988. “Human Skulls from the River Thames, their dating and significance”. Antiquity 62: 503-9.

Bromwich, R. 1961, 1978, 1991. Trioedd Ynys Prydein. The Welsh Triads. Cardiff: University of Wales Press. (New edition in preparation.)

Brunaux, J.L. 1988. The Celtic Gauls: Gods, Rites, Sanctuaries. London: Seaby.

Cooney, G. and Grogan, E. 1991. “An Archaeological Solution to the ‘Irish’ Problem”. Emania 9: 33-43.11

Cribbin, G., McCormick, F., Robinson, M.E. and Shimwell, D. 1994. “A Destroyed Late Iron Age Burial from Kiltullagh”. Emania 12: 61 f.

Cuming, H.S. 1857. “On the Discovery of Celtic Crania in the Vicinity of London”. Journal of the British Archaeological Association 13: 237-40.

Ekwall, E. 1936. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of English Place-Names. London: Oxford University Press.

Hickey, H. 1976. Images of Stone. Belfast: Blackstaff.

Jones, G. and Jones, T. 1977. The Mabinogion. London: Dent.

Koch, J.T. and Carey, J. 1994. The Celtic Heroic Age. Massachussetts: Von Kamecke.

Megaw, R. and Megaw, V. 1989. Celtic Art London: Thames and Hudson.

Lynn, C.J. 1991. “A Burnt Layer beside the King’s Stables”. Emania 9: 33-43.

O’Rahilly, C. (ed.). 1976. Tain Bo Cuailnge (Recension 1). Dublin. Piggott, S. 1968. The Druids London: Thames and Hudson.

Raftery, B. 1994. Pagan Celtic Ireland. London: Thames and Hudson.

Ross, Anne. 1962. “Severed Heads in Wells: an Aspect of the Well Cult”. Scottish Studies 6, part 1: 31-48.

– 1967, 1972. Pagan Celtic Britain. London: Routledge. London: Constable. – 1976. The Folklore of the Scottish Highlands. Batsford.

Rybova, A. and Soudsky, B. 1962. Libenice. Prague. Salviot, E 1979. Glanum Paris. Stead, I, Bourke J, and Brothwell, D, 1986. Lindow Man, The Body in the Bog. London: British Museum Publications.

Tierney, J. J. 1960. “The Celtic Ethnography of Posidoneus.” Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy 60, c.

Watson, W.J. 1926. The History of the Celtic Place-Names of Scotland. Edinburgh and London: Blackwood.

See also: Emania 2 (1987), for articles on Emain Macha and Loughnashade.

A Derbyshire field trip – wells of the Ashbourne area

ASHBOURNE

Binnall (1940) notes an unnamed spring in the grounds of the Mansion, the home of Dr. Johnson’s friend, Dr. Taylor. Its waters were said to be good for eyes and was still frequented in the last quarter of the 19th Century. This would certainly be the same as the site called by Hollick (1967) as the Eye well (SK 174 463) which has given its name to the cottage which abuts the Mansion. This was originally called the Rood well, named after the Holy Cross Chantry which was in St. Oswald’s Church, although there was a chantry house nearby. The site was dressed until the 18th Century. It still exists arising it appears beneath Eyewell cottage, apparently once the potting shed of the Mansion. Half of the well lays covered in the kitchen area, and half outside. The outside section a semi-circular four layered red brick well. I was shown by the owner that the spring itself arises beneath an older red brick arch and appears clear and deep.

The church guide mentions a 30 feet Holy Well (SK 176 464) beneath the church’s tower which they claim was sacred to the druids! It is not accessible nor does the claim appear to predate the guidebook. Are they confusing a site with the one above?

Binnall (1940) notes a sulphur spring, called Mudge Meadow Well (SK 212 473) arising in the said field in nearby hamlet of Sturston. The water was reputed to cure fits. Its site is marked on the 1844 OS map in a field by the river as Mudge Meadow well (spr) near Corley Farm, the 1900 edition loses the site but retains the meadow’s name. Investigating the site, I found a number of possible contenders but could not confirm the exact spot marked on the O/S.

HULLAND WARD

The parish is made up of a number of smaller hamlets. Millington Green boasts two sites. One of these may be those referred to by Pilkington (1789) describing a spring not far from Wirksworth, on the road leading to Ashbourne, which contained sulphur and iron and which was also said to be impregnated with salts. The most likely candidate is the Spa Well (SK 478 264). Binnall (1940) notes that this is a chalybeate spring, however field work disagrees with this as it is clearly a sulphur spring. This is more in agreement with the Federation of Women’s Institute who state there were two sulphur and two chalybeate springs. Their report certainly suggests 31 that sulphur well is the same as the Spa well as the traditions are the same, the account suggesting that it even steamed in frosty weather, Binnall states it never froze. He also accounts that it was once resorted to for skin complaints. The site may have been a holy well as a lost chapel was located in the vicinity in the 13th Century and attached to St. Oswald’s church Ashbourne. The well still exists being located on Lane End Farm and arises between squared stones forming a small square well close by a foot bridge; it is covered with a removable metal grid. The Federation of Women’s Institute state that it made strong and well flavoured tea making the wartime ration going a long way. Cole (1938) notes that it was much attended, with people staying in local houses and that there was a plan to enclose it but the presence of a public right of way prevented the move.

On the 1880 O/S is marked a Chalybeate Spring, this is now marked as W (disused) (SK 262 477) it can be found near to the start of a footpath. It is hidden beneath two concrete slabs, but these can be raised to show a two foot or so by one-foot rectangular pool lined with old bricks filled by a pipe at some considerable rate from the north. The water is very ferruginous. Of the other sites mentioned by the Federation may be the springs which arise towards Hulland Ward village centre in private woodlands close to the footpath towards Millington Green. Another possible site is Jenny Well (SK 282 467) whether this well should be noted here is not clear, although the name suggestive of goblin, although it could record a local name. Despite being tanked on side of the hedge, the spring still fills a stone trough of some age.

Holy, healing and ritual waters of Catalonia: The Mikvah of Girona

In a previous blog I discussed the amazing discovery of a mikveh or mikvah in the medieval city of Besalu. Catalonia’s largest Jewish community was based in the city of Girona and thus it is not surprising that a mikveh was discovered here in archaeological digs undertaken in the site of a Jewish synagogue which is part of the city’s Jewish museum. This was in February 2014 when excavations were looking into an old cistern. The site had been converted to the cistern in a later building and was a closed space accessed by door leading to a hall, a tiled changing room and the pool. The pool had a landing of syone slabs which accessed a flight of steps into the pool it was believed. The water supply unlike Besalu was apparently not spring fed but rain fed. A tank in the courtyard collected this rainwater which then filled the bath. The bath still fills with water giving an idea of how this purification site operated.

The Israel Times writes:

“Yesterday the Israeli ambassador to Spain, Alon Bar, attended the public presentation of the finding, along with the Minister of Culture of the Government of Catalonia Ferran Mascarell, and Girona Mayor Carles Puigdemont.“I commend the discovery of more evidence of a Jewish presence and want to encourage this cultural treasure in order to maintain links between our peoples,” said Bar.”

It is believed that the mikveh was utilised between 1435 and 1492, are on the second floor, across the courtyard. After which, King Fernando established an exclusion decree which forced the community of around 20 families to sell the synagogue before leaving the country. Ironically, this allowed the exact location of the synagogue to be revealed allowing the Museum of Jewish History to be established.

The expulsion decree carried out by King Fernando against the Jews of Spain forced the community of Girona, consisting of about twenty families, to sell the synagogue, along with the surrounding community spaces, before fleeing the country. Thanks to records of the sale, the exact location of the synagogue, which now houses the Museum of Jewish History in Girona, is known.