Neolithic Wiltshire

The Devil’s Stones

January 20, 2015WalkingFree, History, Long Barrow, National Trust, Neolithic Wiltshire, West Kennet Long BarrowThat Cluckin' Bustard Leave a comment

If there’s one thing Wiltshire does well, it’s stuff that’s very, very old. If you want to see structures that were as ancient as the Colusseum is now by the time anyone in Giza had started stacking blocks, Wiltshire is the place to come to. Of course, one such structure stands out above the rest in terms of notoriety but, in the interests of not overplaying our trump card, that particular place will remain unmentioned until the time comes to actually visit it. Instead, this weekend we spent a bright winter morning walking around the biggest stone circle in the country at Avebury.

What is striking about the site, when compared to many other ancient monuments, is the way in which the world has woven itself into the fabric of the place as opposed to standing off at a safe distance. Thousands of cars travel daily along the busy roads which cut straight through the circles, while the village itself has grown into its midst like a creeping plant working itself through the cracks of a building. This is not necessarily a bad thing though and it once again speaks of the charm in the way Wiltshire displays its past. This is something I have spoken of before, that history here, with the exception of the-place-which-shall-not-be-named, does not hide itself behind barriers or glass cases, it’s just there and you are free to touch, prod, poke and generally experience it as you see fit.

It was our good fotune that we turned up on one of those rare events, a bright January morning on which the sun shines and the green grass glows against a cobalt blue horizon. But an in-depth account of our wandering is not going to interest anyone, rather it is the story of the place itself which provides the magic here.

While the nearby West Kennet Long Barrow marked a change in human habits from nomads to settlers, Avebury, constructed around 1000 years later, is evidence of advanced agricultural techniques affording people more time for what might be informally termed ‘dicking about’. After all, why waste your day building a whacking great stone circle when you’ve got hunting and gathering to be doing? A farm full of crops allows attention to be directed elsewhere, from which point a pretty direct line can be drawn through the asking of Who, Why and How towards the building of ceremonial monuments to celebrate the religious beliefs which answered those questions.

The exact purpose of Avebury is, inevitably, unclear. If it was born of rudimentary religious beliefs then theories lean more towards appeasing malevolent spirits rather than praising any kind of bountiful deity. It could have geographical, it could have been a site for funeral ceremonies, it could have been astrological. In truth, for all anyone really knows simply shurgging and saying ‘They just got up to some weird shit in those days’ would be no more or less accurate.

Whatever the reason, people tired of it after around 1000 years and during the Iron Age it was laregly ignored, with locals carrying a vague notion that someone, somewhere must have built it but not really giving much thought as to who or why. In around the 14th century things started picking up again, with villagers’ new-found Christian beliefs apparently leading them to believe the stones had been erected by the Devil and therefore had to go.

So down came the stones, pulled from their millenia-old perches and rolled into nearby pits. This is a shame for the purists because now there are small-ish concrete markers where once stood grand megaliths, but viewed through the prism of rampaging villagers it actually makes things more interesting. Wiltshire, remember, does not do pristine, it does real people. A few years into this process of destruction, one large stone fell and landed on top of a man, believed to have been a barber or surgeon, and crushed him. This, the locals felt, was an act of vengeance from the Devil himself and from that point on they shied away from doing any more of the Lord’s work. The crushed man remained in local folklore as late as the 19th century, although by this point more stones were being torn down for building material.

Today, much like the county’s other ancient monuments, it is viewed as a living temple by practicitioners of modern paganism. Half way around the walk we encountered a tree with assorted ribbons tied to its branches, offerings by visitors who have pilgrimmaged here. Whipping in the wind, the colours seemed incongruous with the rest of the site and we weren’t the only ones to stop and examine them wearing puzzled looks on our faces. Across the road, spiritual offerings are replaced by a goat field, the chewing animals meandering through the ancient stones with all the blank disinterest of an Iron Age villager, gazing up passively as you walk next to them.

Further round it is the village itself which disects the monument. From here you can visit the museum or, in warmer months, the manor house, the recent restoration of which was the subject of a BBC documentary. Alternatively you can simply carry on enjoying the outside, examining the old stones, walking along the bottom of the even older henge, whose grassy walls rise high up on either side. How you explore is your choice, history is yours to do with as you please.

Cost: Free to walk around the circles. Parking £3 for the day or free to National Trust members.

The Ancient in The Modern World

September 23, 2014Ancient WiltshireAll Cannings, Free, Kennet & Avon Canal, Long Barrow, Neolithic WiltshireThat Cluckin' Bustard Leave a comment

The dark might have been oppressive if weren’t adorned with dozens of tiny flames. Even combined, their meager amber glow could barely penetrate the depths of the stoney chamber, but each one was a point of warmth on the thick black canvas. So far the tomb only housed one person’s remains, but over the coming years that numbers is to grow into the hundreds.

A few weeks ago my girlfriend and I visited the West Kennet Long Barrow, one of the oldest existing buildings on the entire planet. Wiltshire is famous for its links to ancient history, made especially real by the numerous neolithic tombs that still scatter the county and that particular one is the flagship example. But now a local farmer has brought all that bronze age burial business into the www. era by constructing the first long barrow to be built in Britain for four millennia and offering up the plots inside it to anyone with a bit of cash going spare.

The work has been done over the course of 2014 just outside the village of All Cannings, partly using chalk and earth from the construction of a barn at a neighbouring farm and partly using stone imported into the area, including some bluestone of the kind that appears at Stonehenge. After all the effort, today was an open morning to show off the end product to anyone who was interested. ‘Get there quickly,’ we were told. ‘The owner wants to get to the pub.’ Can’t argue with that, so it was on with the boots and a quick scramble across the Kennet & Avon canal to where this 21st century tomb sits inconspicuously in a muddy field.

The entrance to the new long barrow

Even as we walked along the track leading towards the barrow we could hear the chattering voices of a healthy crowd which had converged from far parts of Wiltshire and beyond. On our arrival, a press photo shoot was being carried out in the doorway so we turned to the refreshments table which had, fittingly, been laid out with English Heritage approved mead. Honey-sweet and packing quite a punch, the golden liquid went down smoothly to set us up for an intimate guided tour with the owner’s wife and her small torch.

While on the whole it appears nothing more than a large mound from the outside, there is a front-facing wall made of large stones which houses the entryway. These may not be as grand as the sarson stones which form the threshold to other barrows, but their effect is still impressive. Beyond that is a wrought iron gate leading into a central passageway within.

Suddenly the dark becomes enclosing, and by the weak torchlight we were guided into one of the round chambers which lead off the spine. The entire interior is made from Cotswold dry stone, about the size of a standard brick, piled high from floor to round, spiralling ceiling. Built into the walls are the niches which are to house the urns- either one or an entire family’s worth- each one adorned this morning with a small candle. The weight of the earth overhead insulates completely from all noise and happenings outside.

There is already one lady interred here. Her spot was chosen by serendipity and a rather sweet twist of fate: when the deceased lady’s husband visited the barrow, a butterfly came in, flew straight to that particular shelf and settled there. He knew that had to be the one. The owner, meanwhile, has bagged his spot at the end of the main passageway and marked his territory today with an apple.

A candlelit niche onto which urns will be laid.

The entire construction has been beautifully rendered, truly a testament to both the owner’s vision and the skill of the stone masons. There is a strange, otherworldly feel to the whole place. To say you feel transported to an ancient world would both cloying and misleading, but certainly it induces a feeling of detachment from the modern environment, if only for a few minutes.

We re-entered reality to find ourselves again surrounded by sharp morning light and people planning their walk to the local pub. Being a home for the dead, the long barrow is not just left open for visitors to come and go as they please, but anyone interested in this curious mix of ancient and modern may enter by appointment. For anyone coming to visit the neolithic sites nearby, this offers a wonderfully made point of comparison and is well worth the phone call.

Up on the Downs

August 27, 2014UncategorizedAdam's Grave, Free, Marlborough Downs, Neolithic Wiltshire, Pewsey Vale, White HorseThat Cluckin' Bustard Leave a comment

With the sun casting only sporadic warmth through the greying clouds, this particular Sunday morning is typical of this particular August week. The drop in temperature and the dark skies have produced an autumnal feeling that is a long way from the high summer suggested by the calendar, but none of that deters a steady flow of people from marching across the historic Marlborough Downs.

We steal the final remaining space in the car park, just off the main road that traverses the hills from the village of Alton Barnes towards Marlborough, and leave on foot through the sheep fields on the other side of the road towards Walkers Hill. We are by no means alone and those seeking solitude are best advised not to come here on a weekend, but if you don’t mind exchanging regular hellos with fellow hikers then the company adds a certain charm.

While all the land on the hills is used by farmers for their livestock, there are fairly well established routes that are easy to follow and do not place any demands for huge levels of fitness. The little effort that is required, though, is well worth it. The true magic of the Downs, in my opinion, always lies in the contrast between the ‘inner’ part of the hills, where rising grass in all directions makes you feel enclosed, like you are in the middle of an enormous bowl, and the ‘outer’ slopes.

After just a few minutes’ walk, this contrast is strikes in all its glory. After passing through a couple of gates, the crest of the hill is now before us and each step of the approach reveals more of the breathtaking surroundings below. Suddenly that large bowl has gone and the Vale of Pewsey opens up beneath us, spreading out for miles into the distance. A number of villages dot the landscape, interspersing the endless fields of varying shades and colours before the hills of Salisbury Plain roll forth at the far side a few miles away. A late summer haze, caused by dust from the harvest, does nothing to dampen the impact of this sudden world presenting itself.

Looking along one of the Adam’s Grave ditches on Walker’s Hill, revealing the Vale of Pewsey below.

Drinking in the view, we decide to follow the path along the southern ridge, this time populated by cows rather than the sheep which had occupied the other side. The contours rise once more, the path now taking us through gorse bushes, before curling round northwards. This curve reveals the face of Milk Hill and the white chalk horse it proudly boasts to all down in the Vale below.

The Alton Barnes White Horse on the face of Milk Hill.

White horses on hillsides are one of Wiltshire’s claims to fame, with 13 of the 24 known to have been built in the country appearing here. Exactly why people have historically been drawn to doing this is not really clear and this particular one seems to be no more than a product of the nineteenth century landowner’s whim. Commissioned by Robert Pile in 1812, it now brings many visitors to the area and, at 160 feet by 166 feet, is a reference point visible throughout the Vale.

A family passes us by, desperately trying to coerce their dog into following obediently, with young children demonstrating the comfort levels of this walk. We make our way round towards the horse, which itself is fenced off but the path almost guides us along its back. Up close the details become clearer, from the pointed ears to the patch of grass which forms its eye, making it clear this is much more a work of art than a hastily cobbled together bit of fun.

The tail of the White Horse, looking south-west towards the villages of Stanton St Bernard and All Cannings.

Beyond the horse, most walkers tend to carry on along the Downs towards Devizes, but I fancy something different and guide us ‘off-piste’, trekking our way back up towards the summit. As well as boasting the white horse, Milk Hill is also the second highest point between Bristol and London and the views it offers are well worth the climb. From the right spots it is possible to have the Vale on one side while being able to see Silbury Hill and Avebury on the other.

The north side of the hill drops us back down into the great grass bowl of the inner slopes and we skirt around the edge of a few sheep fields, something I won’t entirely recommend but not really a problem if you don’t do too much to disturb the livestock. It is also a more taxing walk and you will end up having to hop over some barbed wire fences as there are no gates to ease your thoroughfare. Circling back round towards our starting point, we want to return to Walkers Hill where what appears to be a small mound sits like a nipple on the peak.

The very deliberate-looking ditches around the mound- which I used to sledge down with friends in the snow when I was young- hint that there is more going on than first appears obvious and, although there is no information on any nearby signs to explain, the ‘nipple’ is actually another of Wiltshire’s many neolithic burial mounds, known as Adam’s Grave. Its history is vague, although some reports suggest that a nineteenth century excavation discovered three partial skeletons inside and, to excite the children, a couple of bloody Anglo-Saxon battles were fought here in the 6th and 8th centuries when it was known as Woden’s Burg. Any sort of discernible structure is now long gone but enough remains to pique the interest of those who study these kinds of things. For those who don’t it is still highly recommended as the finest viewing spot of all.

Sitting on top of ‘Adam’s Grave’. Visible is a large stone that likely formed part of the original structure.

We spend a good ten minutes sitting on the very peak here, marvelling at the 360 degree vista. Upon taking the time to really pause, the silence becomes striking and it is by a distance the most serene point of the walk. The only disturbance comes from a gentle breeze; all other walkers might as well be a hundred miles away instead of a few hundred metres and the roads and villages visible below seem to be in another world, all activity playing out silently on a stage that we have no place on.

It is at this point that the famous British summer time begins to catch up with us. With the sky now getting ever more grey we rouse ourselves from our reverie and make a retreat to the car. Regardless of the imperfect weather, though, it had been a beautiful way to spend a weekend morning and, of particular importance on this autumnal feeling day, the ideal prelude to a Sunday roast.

Alton Priors and beyond, seen from the top of Walkers Hill.

A Journey to Ancient Wiltshire

July 28, 2014Ancient WiltshireAvebury, Crop Circle, Free, Neolithic Wiltshire, Silbury Hill, West Kennet Long BarrowThat Cluckin' Bustard View all 2 comments

Laying his body in its dark chamber, the few tribesmen allowed inside the mound uttered their final words to their chief before returning out into the sunlight where the crowd was gathered. Deep inside a large fire were the bones of their previous leader, being returned to the earth by the heat of the flames. On seeing the elders emerge, the people began to throw flowers and sheaves of wheat onto the pyre before pointing their faces skywards and entering together into the song of the dead.

I’m making up every single word of this, of course; I have absolutely no idea about neolithic burial practices, but then it seems nobody else really does either (although evidence does suggest that bones were removed from their resting places to be used in some sort of ritual). All anybody seems sure of is that the more prominent people had their bodies lain to rest in large, communal chambers, or long barrows as they are known.

The West Kennet Long Barrow is one such place, one of the most famous of its kind. Built a full millennium before anyone in Giza had struck upon the ostentatious idea of grossly oversized pyramids, you can count on one hand the number of existing man-made buildings that are older than this stony chamber in the entire world. The 5,500 year-old structure is part of the Stonehenge and Avebury UNESCO World Heritage Site and marks an important change in human history, the shift away from being nomadic hunter-gatherers to being the inhabitants of fixed agricultural communities. This is people creating permanent buildings for their dead, tying themselves to a specific location for the first time.

My girlfriend and I decided to visit on a warm Sunday morning. Parking is available in a layby on the main road but we chose to use the car park provided a couple of hundred metres further on at the other nearby attraction, Silbury Hill. At 131 feet high, this has the fairly tenuous honour of being the ‘highest man-made prehistoric hill in Europe’ (I’m not sure how much competition there is for that particular title), although quite why man did make it is entirely unknown, despite some educated guesswork. From a visiting point of view, due to a mixture of conservation and health & safety regulations there is very little to do there other than view it from a distance.

Silbury Hill.

Walking little more than a Usain Bolt-esque distance past the hill, you arrive at the bottom of the track towards the Long Barrow. There is no need to be concerned with opening times; the English Heritage website gives the gloriously laissez-faire guideline of ‘any reasonable time during daylight hours’ and entrance is not just free but entirely unregulated.

This track was sprinkled with a steady trickle of visitors making their way over what little of the River Kennet had survived this far into the summer and up the side of a small-ish hill to where the Long Barrow sits prominently on the brow. In complete contrast to Silbury Hill, visitors are more than welcome to wander around, over and inside the burial chamber, although perhaps a little more could be done to provide guidance and information beyond the one sign they have near the entrance.

For the most part it looks from the outside like a long, thin mound of grass which rises up almost inexplicably from the middle of a farmer’s field. People walk along the top of it, as though like they are venturing down the back of a giant crocodile, admiring the panoramic views of the surrounding countryside. While maintained, it is by no means pristine and wild flowers grow over and around it, making it all feel less of a tourist attraction and more the authentic tomb is was built as.

A line of large stones provides a screen that semi-hides the entrance, itself composed of a structure reminiscent of the Stonehenge arches. Inside, the dark stone walls and dirt floor are illuminated by some fairly jarring skylights that have been installed in the roof which, while functional, do little to maintain the illusion of ancient man.

There are four chambers coming off a main passageway which leads to a fifth at the western end. A number of visitors had left small bunches of wheat and flowers on some of the stones, seemingly one of the paganistic rituals that the neolithic landscape still draws to the area. They hint that the site is a place of pilgrimage for the modern druids who come here alongside the more celebrated attractions at Stonehenge and Avebury.

One of many bunches of wildflowers placed on stones within the chamber.

People wandered in, poked their heads into each of the chambers and headed back to the door. In truth there isn’t a huge amount to see or do, people wanting the spectacular will only be disappointed, but there is something fairly remarkable about being in building that has been around longer than almost any other on the planet, somewhere that has seen both flint axes and iPhones as the peak of technology.

Back outside, and from the top of the mound we looked down towards Silbury Hill and beyond towards where the Avebury stone circles stand. On the slope below us someone had flattened the wheat into a crop circle. All together it provided a vision of what makes this a particularly strange part of the world; the ancient history, the enduring paganism, the ‘mysterious’ crop circles, all largely unrelated and yet somehow feeling part of one timeline. And just a few miles away a new long barrow is currently under construction using the same old methods.

Standing on top of the burial chamber, looking down towards Silbury Hill.

Perhaps this is why the West Kennet Long Barrow is not cordoned off and kept away from the public, because here ancient history is still somehow current. The past is not sanitised and kept behind glass museum cases but is allowed to continue as part of the same modern life that makes grand patterns in fields and leaves offerings to the ‘earth mother’ in tombs. History is not really history at all. Enter as please, do as you need and be on your way again, just as people have for five and a half millennia.

For our return we chose a path along the tractor lines through the field, pausing briefly as we stood in in the centre of the crop circle. The visit had been short but illuminating, and despite the lack of any real action it should certainly be part of the tour taken by anyone seeking to understand what Wiltshire is truly all about.