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Rediscovered/Restored: Will the real wells of Southwell stand up? Searching for the South wells of the town

There are a number of locations. In this blog post extracted and revised from my book Holy Wells and Healing Spring of Nottinghamshire I explore where the well(s) of Southwell can be found.

There’s a monument it was easy to find!

The supposed South Well (SK 708 535) is commemorated by a brick monument called Paulinus Stone which has a plaque attached to it, recording the following:

“It is reputed that in the 7th century the water was used to baptise the first Christians in this part of Nottinghamshire and from that time on for several centuries the spring was considered to be a holy well the water of which was said to have healing qualities”

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The monument is above a small wooded area where there appears to be the dried up remains of a spring head, but this may not be the site referred to in the town’s name. I have been unable to find any supporting evidence for this claim and it seems unlikely that this remote location would be the site for the first settlement being a fair distance from the Minster.

Where else could it be?

Another nearer site was to be found in the Admiral Rodney public house, in King Street (SK 701 540) this being found in the corner of the bar but a recent visit did not find it. However, although close to the historic centre of the bar it seems unlikely to be the exact site.

The two other sites where in the Minster precincts. The Holy well (SK 701 538) found in the cloister leading to the Chapter House and probably used for liturgical purposes and the Lady well (SK 703 537) was found in the churchyard, immediately under the walls of the Choir on the north side of the Chapter House. William Wylie’s 1853 Old and New Nottingham notes that this later well was:

“merely a mock sunk to receive the overflowing of the spouts and the drainage from the church and that it was no great compliment to the holy patroness”.

Thus it was unlikely to be the third well. It is said to be marked by a stone with a W on it but I was unable to find it. It is interesting to note that there was a Roman villa south east of the Minster. Work in 1959 showed a large cold bath. Did the Holy well provide water for this bath? Both were filled in, the later being covered by a vestry built in 1915. It was filled in, in the 1764 where a clergyman called Fowler drowned in it.

Has the titular well been found?

However, I feel that the most obvious example was the Lord’s Well (SK 705 537) and this supported by Robert Shilton (1818) The History of Southwell in the county of Nottinghamshire who notes:

“The received opinion is, that the place took its name from a well on the south side of the town of some note formerly as effectual in the cure of rheumatism and there was once a stone recess for the convenience for bathers, this was called the Lord’s Well, probably from its spring rising in the demesne of the Lord of the Manor…”

According to Dickinson in his 1787 work on the History of Southwell, an attempt was made to develop it into a spa, but by 1801 it was noted that it was only used by boys for amusement. Accordingly, this still survives in some form in the private gardens of the Residence. However, according to the present Dean there appears to be no spring or well arising there but a more likely site is to be found in the Archbishop’s Palace. Here can be found a site which would fit Shilton’s description. It is a rectangular structure made of squared stone, five foot by three foot approximately, which could easily have been used a bath. It looks of some age but may be modern. A spring appears to fill it, and this arises at the edge of the lawn and flows from a carved head (probably modern in date). The structure is located a few feet from the ruins of the Archbishop’s Palace, so it would seem likely that this is the site and it is surprising it has been missed over the years. The site is at SK 701 537 but again a recent visit did find it still there but filled in and dry. If it is the titular spring it is deplorable treated!

 

Guest blog post: Ffynnon Leinw – Holy Well or natural wonder by Tristan Gray Hulse (Part one)

As a special extra Christmas treat I present part one of an article by Tristan Gray Hulse exclusively published here on Ffynnon Leinw.

The Inspecting Officer for the Royal Commission visited Ffynnon Leinw, in Cilcain parish, Flintshire, on 24 October 1910. The ensuing published Flintshire Inventory recorded the well as follows:

Ffynnon Leinw … A spring, the flow of which has probably been decreased by operations in connection with the neighbouring lead mines. It is enclosed by masonry 18 feet by 10 feet, and 2 feet deep, but there is now little water save after long continued rain. This spring is noted by Edward Lhuyd in 1699 under the above name (RCAHM 1912, 16: § 54).

The well is located immediately to the south of the A541 Mold-Denbigh road, in the north-west corner of a wood just to the west of the hamlet of Hendre (SJ 186 677). 106 years on, Ffynnon Leinw looks much the same as just described (see also Gruffydd 1999, 84, illus.), but an examination of sixteenth- to nineteenth-century accounts of the well reveals a complex and confusing history. These sources are laid out here, followed by a discussion.

From WellHopper please follow link

Part I

1188 In this year Giraldus Cambrensis accompanied Archbishop Baldwin on a preaching tour of Wales; after which he composed his Itinerarium Cambriae. They stayed one night at Rhuddlan Castle, where they were told (II, 10):

There is a spring not far from Ruthlan, in the province of Tegengel, which not only regularly ebbs and flows like the sea, twice in twenty-four hours, but at other times frequently rises and falls both by night and day (Giraldus 1908, 129).

Giraldus had already noticed another “spring which, like the tide, ebbs and flows twice in twenty-four hours”, near Dinefwr Castle, in Carmarthenshire (I, 10: ib. 74).

 

1572 This year saw the publication of the Commentarioli Britannicae Descriptionis Fragmentum of Humphrey Llwyd (1527-68); in the following year it was translated by Thomas Twyne and published as The Breuiary of Britayne. (The recent edition of Twyne’s translation by Philip Schwyzer modernises the spelling, and uses the currently accepted forms of Welsh toponyms.)

In Tegenia [Latinisation of Tegeingl, the old regional name for the area afterwards named Flintshire] est mirae naturae fons, qui cum a mari sex millibus passuum distat in Parochia Cilcensi, bis in die fluit & refluit. Hoc tamen nuper observavi (Luna ab horizonte Orientali ad Meridianum ascendente quo tempore omnia fluunt maria) fontis aquam diminui, refluviumque pati (Lhuyd 1572, 57).

In Tegenia is a well of a marvelous nature which, being six miles from the sea, in the parish of Cilcain [Kilken, in Twyne’s original text], ebbeth and floweth twice in one day. Yet have I marked this of late, when the moon ascendeth from the east horizon to the south (at which time all seas do flow), that then the water of this well diminisheth and ebbeth (Schwyzer 2011, 116).

Llwyd’s first sentence appears to repeat Giraldus, but identifies his “spring not far from Ruthlan” with an unnamed well in Cilcain parish. Llwyd lived much of his life in or near Denbigh, and clearly knew the Cilcain well from personal observation; he notes that the well had a tendency to lessen or dry up at a certain period of the year.

Twyne’s translation of The Breuiary, edited by Hugh Thomas, was reprinted in 1729, and an annotated edition of Llwyd’s original Latin text was published by Moses Williams in 1731.

 

1585 In 1585 David Powel (1552?-98) published an annotated edition of Giraldus’ Itinerarium Cambriae, with an abbreviated edition of the same author’s Descriptio Cambriae (the first printed editions of these texts). Commenting on Giraldus’ notice of the well near Rhuddlan (Powel 1585, 211), Powel specifically identified this with the Cilcain well noticed by Humphrey Llwyd, and quoted Llwyd’s words (ib. 214). Before this, commenting on Giraldus’ notice of the Dinefwr spring, he had again quoted Llwyd’s text, for comparative purposes; but here he named the Tegeingl well mentioned by Llwyd as Fynon Leinw (ib. 141). This appears to be the earliest record of the name.

 

1586 This year saw the appearance of the first edition of the Britannia of William Camden (1551-1623). The sixth Latin edition was translated into English by Philemon Holland in 1610. This was revised, with many additions for Wales by Edward Lhwyd, by Edmund Gibson in 1695. A revised edition of Gibson’s Camden appeared in 1722. Having discussed Mold, Camden wrote:

Australem sub his regionis partem pererrat Alen fluuiolus, prope quem in monte ad Kilken viculum, fons est qui maris aemulus statis temporibus suas & reuomit, & resorbet aquas (Camden 1616, 549).

Below these places the fourth-part of this Country is water’d by the little river Alen, near which, on a mountain in the Parish of Kilken, there is a spring, which, [as is said,] ebb’d and flow’d at set times like the sea (Camden 1722, col. 826).

The “[as is said]” was added by Edward Lhwyd, who also, in the margin, corrected “on a mountain in the Parish of” to “at a village call’d” Cilcain, and “ebb’d and flow’d” to “ebbs and flows”; the last, seemingly in line with Camden’s original Latin text, the rest with information lately supplied to him by Richard Mostyn, in 1694 (see below). Camden will have known Lhuyd 1572 and Powel 1585, but neither were responsible for his location of the well on a mountain near to the little village of Cilcain – it is Cilcain village itself which sits on a hilltop overlooking the Alun, to the south, rather than the well, which is in Cilcain parish, but almost two miles from the village, to the north-east.

 

1603 William Camden reprinted Powel’s annotated edition of the Itinerarium Cambriae (Camden 1603, 818-878).

 

1611/12 The publication of John Speed’s county maps of Great Britain (the title-page gives 1611, but – certain maps bearing the date 1612 – the actual publication date must have been in the latter year). The text accompanying the Flintshire map (book 2, chap. 13) has the following:

There is also hard by Kilken (a small village) within this Countie, a little Well of no great note, that at certaine times riseth and falleth, after the manner of Sea-tides (Speed 1611/12, 121).

The information is likely to have been derived from the Britannia. The map shows Cilcain, but not the well.

 

28 February 1694 Richard Mostyn, the grandson of Sir Thomas Mostyn, lived at Penbedw, in Nannerch, just over the Cilcain/Nannerch parish boundary. During the years 1693-5 he corresponded with Edward Lhwyd. In a letter dated 28 February 1693/4 he wrote:

The well wch Mr. Cambden mentions yt Ebbs & flows calld Fynnon Leinw is abt halfe a mile hence, ‘tis in Kilken parish indeed, but nothing near Kilken church or ye river Alen (as he says) it now (as J can find) neither ebbs nor flows, thô it did formerly as they say. Powell in his notes upon Giraldus his itinerary makes this to be ye well Giraldus mentions in his passage between St. Asaph & Basingwerk, & from him Speed & Cambden &c seem to take it, but under favour J can’t think it ye same yt Giraldus ment, for ‘tis but seven miles from St. Asaph to Basingwerk, & this is four or five from Basingwerk & eight of St. Asaph. J rather think he meant Fynnon Assa, a noble spring, yt is sd to doe ye same: but this with submission (Lloyd 1971-2, 45).

(In fact, Giraldus mentioned the – unnamed – well when noticing his night at Rhuddlan, before going on to visit St Asaph, and then on to Basingwerk Abbey.) Lhwyd substantially incorporated much of this passage into his additions to Gibson’s 1695 edition of Camden’s Britannia.

 

1695 Edward Lhwyd’s additions to Gibson’s edition of the Britannia.

But it neither ebbs nor flows at present, tho’ the general report is that it did so formerly. But whereas Dr. Powel supposes this to be the Fountain to which Giraldus Cambrensis ascrib’d that quality; it may perhaps be more probably suppos’d, that Giraldus meant Fynnon Assav, a noble Spring, to which they attribute the same Phaenomenon. But seeing that Author (though a learned and very curious person for the time he liv’d in) is often either erroneous or less accurate in his Physiological Observations, it is seldom worth our while to dispute his meaning on such occasions (Camden 1722, col. 826).

 

1698 In his own answers to his Parochialia questionnaire, covering parts of North Wales, Edward Lhwyd recorded that there was a “Fynnon mihangel” and a “Fynnon Leinw” in Cilcain parish (Lhwyd 1909, 81), and a “F. S. y Katrin”, a “F. Y Beili”, and a “F. Ym maes garmon” in Mold parish (ib. 93); no indications as to precise locations within the parishes are given. (The construction of the name “F. S. y Katrin” seems awkward, but it is paralleled in the title of the medieval Welsh Life of the saint, Buched Seint y Katrin, and in a document of 1623 where St Catherine’s church at Llan-faes, Anglesey, is called “Llan Saint y Katherin”: Cartwright 2008, 148 ff., 158.) For Cwm, Lhwyd noted the “most remarkable” spring in the parish to be Ffynnon Asa (Lhwyd 1909, 64). This was reputed to ebb and flow with the tides, but observation over a period of nine hours had shown its reputation to be false.

 

1723, 1731 The antiquarian Moses Williams (1685-1742), who had been one of Edward Lhwyd’s assistants at Oxford, published an edition of Humphrey Llwyd’s Breviary of Britain in 1723, and an annotated edition of Humphrey Llwyd’s 1572 Commentarioli in 1731. Commenting on Llwyd’s notice of the Cilcain well Williams said that the well no longer ebbed and flowed, but suggested that its name, Ffynnon leinw, should be taken as evidence that it had done so formerly (Williams 1731, 87).

 

1781 The second volume of Thomas Pennant’s Tours in Wales first appeared in 1781.

In this parish, on the side of the turnpike-road, not far from Kilken hall, is the noted Ffynnon Leinw, or the flowing well; a large oblong well with a double wall round it. This is taken notice of by Camden for its flux and re-flux; but the singularity has ceased since his time, according to the best information I can receive (Pennant 1810, 59-60).

 

Nineteenth century After Pennant’s time, Ffynnon Leinw was regularly noticed by antiquarian and topographical writers; their comments are entirely dependent upon Camden and Pennant, and often enough upon each other. For example:

The singularity of the noted Flowing Well, is said to have ceased since the time of Camden, who mentions the circumstance (Carlisle 1811, art. “Cîl Cain”).

In this Parish is the noted Ffynnon Leinw, or Flowing Well, noticed by Camden for its flux and reflux; but it appears from Mr Pennant that this singularity has ceased for some time (Cathrall 1829, 225).

 

(For Giraldus, see e.g. Richter 1976; for Edward Lhuyd/Lhwyd, Humphrey Llwyd, Thomas Pennant, David Powel, and Moses Williams, see, e.g., Lloyd and Jenkins 1959, 565-7, 594, 745, 770, and 1060; for the impact of the writings of Humphrey Llwyd and David Powel, see Schwyzer 2011, 1-35: “Introduction”; for Camden and the Britannia, see, e.g., Stephens 1998, 68; for Richard Mostyn, Lloyd 1971-2.)

References

Anon., Cambrian Traveller’s Guide, ed. 1, Stourport: George Nicholson, 1808; ed. 2, London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, & Brown, 1813

Anon., “The Parish of Mold”, 3 parts, The Cambro-Briton vol. 1, London: 1819, 136-43, 179-84, 298-300

Anon., “Extracts from a MS of Ancient Date, giving some Customs and Usages in North Wales”, Archaeologia Cambrensis 40 (1885) 150-6

Anon., “Obituary, The Rev. Elias Owen of Llan y Blodwel”, Archaeologia Cambrensis 56 (1901) 322-4

Browne, Sir Thomas, ed. Geoffrey Keynes, Selected Writings, London: Faber and Faber, 1970

Camden, William, ed., Anglica, Normannica, Hibernica, Cambrica, a veteribus scripta [&c], Frankfurt: 1603

Camden, William, Britannia; sive Florentissimorum Regnorum, Angliae, Scotiae, Hiberniae, & Insularum adiacentium ex intima antiquitate Chorographica descriptio, Frankfurt: Johann Bringer, 1616

Camden, William, rev. Edmund Gibson, Britannia: or a Chorographical Description of Great Britain and Ireland … Translated into English, with Additions and Improvements, second ed., vol. 2, London: Awnsham Churchill, 1722

Carlisle, Nicholas, A Topographical Dictionary of the Dominion of Wales, London: 1811

Cartwright, Jane, Feminine Sanctity and Spirituality in Medieval Wales, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2008

Cathrall, William, The History of North Wales [&c], vol. 2, Manchester: 1828

Cox, Phil, “The Lost Chapel of St Leonard”, 1970: accessed 10/12/2015 on the Caer Alyn Archaeological and Heritage website, http://caeralyn.org

Davies, Ellis, Flintshire Place-Names, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1959

Davis, Paul, Sacred Springs: In Search of the Holy Wells and Spas of Wales, Llanfoist: Blorenge Books, 2003

Duffy, Eamon, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England c.1400-c.1580, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1992

Edwards, J,M., Flintshire (Cambridge County Geographies), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1914

Evans, J., The Beauties of England and Wales: or, Original Delineations, Topographical, Historical, and Descriptive, of each County, vol. 17 (North Wales), London: J. Harris [&c], 1812

Farmer, David Hugh, The Oxford Dictionary of Saints, ed. 5, Oxford: University Press, 2003

Giraldus Cambrensis, tr. Richard Colt Hoare, The Itinerary through Wales and The Description of Wales, London: J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd, 1908

Gray, Madeleine, Images of Piety: The iconography of traditional religion in late medieval Wales (BAR British Series 316), Oxford: Archaeopress, 2000

Gruffydd, Eirlys a Ken Lloyd, Ffynhonnau Cymru. Cyfrol 2: Ffynhonnau Caernarfon, Dinbych, Y Fflint a Môn, Llanrwst: Gwasg Carreg Gwalch, 1999

Gruffydd, Ken Lloyd, “The Manor & Marcher Lordship of Mold during the Early Middle Ages, 1039-1247”, Ystrad Alun: Journal of the Mold Civic Society 1 (Christmas 2000) 3-21

Hooke, R[obert], Micrographia: or some Physiological Description of Minute Bodies made by magnifying glasses with observations and inquiries thereupon, London: James Allestry, 1667

Hooper, Richard, ed., The Complete Works of Michael Drayton, vols 1-3 (Poly-Olbion), London: John Russell Smith, 1876

Jacobus de Voragine, tr. William Granger Ryan, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, vol. 2, Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1995

Jones, Francis, The Holy Wells of Wales, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1954

Jones, J. Colin, Gresford Village and Church: The history of a border settlement, Wrexham: J. Colin Jones, 1995

Lewis, Samuel, A Topographical Dictionary of Wales, ed. 3, vol. 1, London: S. Lewis and Co., 1848

Lloyd, John Edward, and R.T. Jenkins, eds, The Dictionary of Welsh Biography down to 1940, London: The Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion, 1959

Lloyd, Nesta, “The Correspondence of Edward Lhuyd and Richard Mostyn”, Flintshire Historical Society Publications 25 (1971-2) 31-61

Lhuyd, Humfredus, Commentarioli Britannicae Descriptionis Fragmentum, Cologne: Johann Birckman, 1572

Lhwyd, Edward, ed. Rupert H. Morris, Parochialia being a Summary of Answers to “Parochial Queries” [&c], part 1, London: The Cambrian Archaeological Association, 1909

Morris, John, ed./transl., Nennius: British History and The Welsh Annals, London and Chichester: Phillimore, 1980

Owen, Elias, 1899: “Ffynon Leinw, an Ebbing and Flowing Well”, chapter in The Holy Wells of North Wales, unpublished manuscript NLW 3290D

Pennant, Thomas, Tours in Wales, vol. 2, London: Wilkie and Robinson [&c], 1810

Powel, David, Pontici Virunnii Britannicae Historiae libri VI; Itinerarium Cambriae, Cambriae Descriptio; De Britannica Historia recte intelligenda Epistola, London: Henry Denham and Ralph Newbury, 1585

Rattue, James, The Living Stream: Holy Wells in Historical Context, Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1995

RCAHM 1912, 1914, 1925 = An Inventory of The Ancient Monuments of Wales and Monmouthshire. II. – County of Flint; IV. – County of Denbigh; and VII.- County of Pembroke, London: His Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1912, 1914 and 1925

Rees, Eiluned, and Gwyn Walters, “The Dispersion of the Manuscripts of Edward Lhuyd”, The Welsh History Review 7, no. 2 (Dec. 1974) 148-78

Richter, Michael, Giraldus Cambrensis: The Growth of the Welsh Nation, rev. ed., Aberystwyth: The National Library of Wales, 1976

Schwyzer, Philip, ed., Humphrey Llwyd “The Breviary of Britain” with selections from “The History of Cambria”, London: Modern Humanities Research Association, 2011

Spalding, Ruth, The Improbable Puritan: A Life of Bulstrode Whitelocke, 1605-1675, London: Faber & Faber, 1975

Spalding, Ruth, ed., The Diary of Bulstrode Whitelocke, 1605-1675, Oxford: Oxford University Press/The British Academy, 1990

Speed, John, The Theatre of the Empire of Great Britain, London: 1611/12

Stephens, Meic, ed., The New Companion to the Literature of Wales, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1998

Walsham, Alexandra, The Reformation of the Landscape: Religion, Identity, and Memory in Early Modern Britain and Ireland, Oxford: University Press, 2011

Whitelocke, R.H., Memoirs, Biographical and Historical, of Bulstrode Whitelocke [&c], London: Routledge, Warne, and Routledge, 1860

[Williams, John] Ab Ithel, “Holy Wells”, Archaeologia Cambrensis 1 (1846) 50-4

Williams, Moses. Humfredi Llwyd, Armigeri, Britannicae Descriptionis Commentariolum [&c], London: William Bowyer, 1731

Wynne, Glenys, Cilcain, Mold: Cilcain W.I., 1944

Guest blog post: Herefordshire’s Holy and Healing Wells by Janet Bord

I am very pleased as a bit of festive gift to welcome another post from Janet Bord one of the great contributors to the field….Merry Christmas, happy Yuletide and Happy 2019

100 years ago many homes in Britain did not have a mains water supply, with water having to be fetched from nearby wells and springs. Domestic wells were a fact of life for many even in the mid 20th century, whereas today we turn on taps in the comfort of our homes without a second thought. The intricacies of water supply in Herefordshire on the Welsh border in earlier times are shown in a detailed survey by Linsdall Richardson which was published in 1935: Wells and Springs of Herefordshire (HMSO, London, 1935). In addition to the most well-known holy wells of the county, he also describes many more named wells, some holy, many used for healing purposes. I have no idea how many of them can still be identified, but they are worth recording, and so here is a run-through of the most interesting examples, with quotations from Richardson’s book.   Remember that references to the present-day within the quotes will mean the early 1930s!   I have given map references for those wells I have visited. Many of them are also described in Jonathan Sant’s useful 1994 book The Healing Wells of Herefordshire, sadly no longer easily available.

Cae Thomas (or St Thomas’s) Well, Llanveynoe (p.40)

‘This very attractive and copious spring issues from the rock in a steep bank two-fifths of a mile up stream from Ford and courses down the bank into the Olchon Brook…. [It] has long had a local reputation for its medicinal properties…’ At the time of writing in 1935, the owner planned to market the water as Glen Olchon Water, but he died and so the plan was thankfully never carried out.   The commercialisation of this spring doesn’t bear thinking about, and luckily it remains unspoilt, tucked away in the remote borderland, needing persistence to discover but well worth the effort.

St Clodock’s or St Clydog’s Well, Clodock (p.41) SO326273

‘… a dip-well fed by a spring from rock close to the R. Monnow. In times of flood the Monnow invades the well.’   The spring can still be located on the river bank under a low stone slab among the grass. Clodock was a 6th-century Border king who was murdered and whose body was taken away by ox-cart until it broke, so he was buried at that spot, and a church was built there. His well is only a few minutes walk away along the riverside footpath.

St Peter’s Wells, Peterchurch (p.43) SO353388

There were three springs originally, the two highest being good for eye troubles; pins were thrown into them. ‘The water of the larger [lower] well flowed through a sculptured head of St Peter into a shallow bathing place made for the use of sufferers of rheumatism.’   The well has been restored so that the water still flows, or did in 2009 when I saw it, through the stone head. The site of the pool below is now overgrown.

St Mary’s Well, Peterchurch (p.43)

‘A small spring called St. Mary’s Well, but known locally as Sore Eyes’ Well, issues from rock in the steep side of the dingle in Park Wood… A small basin-like hollow appears to have been made in the rock and the spring is still resorted to by many in search of relief for eye afflictions.’

St Margaret’s Well, St Margarets (p.44)

‘This spring is on Green Court Farm, three-tenths of a mile south of Urishay. The spring issues from beneath a prominent rock band and discharges direct into the stream… The only information that could be obtained locally was that it was believed that there used to be a bathing pool here.’

Heavenly Well, Vowchurch (p.45)

‘This is a dip-well fed by a small spring from cornstone close to the track’ one mile from Vowchurch church. No information is given as to the well’s use, but its name alone meant I had to include it in this listing.

Golden Well, Dorstone (p.49)

‘This is a shallow-seated spring issuing from loamy soil just within the western boundary of Bell Alders, half a mile north-west-by-west of St. Mary’s church, Dorstone. According to the legend: “In this well, once upon a time, a fisherman caught a fish with a gold chain round its neck. In commemoration a sculptured representation of the fish in stone, with its chain, was placed in the church [at Peterchurch], where it may still be seen.”’ [Quotation from The Folk-Lore of Herefordshire by Ella Mary Leather, p.12]

St Peter’s Well, Whitney (p.50)

‘This is a “spout spring” issuing from the steep bank between the railway and the road north-east of SS. Peter and Paul Church.’

St Ann’s Well, Aconbury (p.51)

‘For a long time it was the local belief that water taken from this spring after twelve o’clock on Twelfth Night possessed great curative properties and was especially good for eye troubles.’

St Edith’s Well, Stoke Edith (p.59) SO604406

‘This is a copious spring, probably an overflow spring from the Downton Castle Sandstone, emerging near the church and below the churchyard and by which the memorial trough on the Hereford—Ledbury road was supplied. The well is called after St Edith, daughter of King Edgar, who at the age of fifteen was made Abbess of Wilton. She died in her twenty-third year, on September 16th, 984. According to a legend the spring issued in answer to her prayer for water which was needed for mixing the mortar required for a church. For many years the villagers believed that those who bathed in its water were cured of various ailments, and to stop the bathing, bars were at length placed in front of the well.’   That sounds like a most vindictive, unsympathetic course of action to take, at a time when the villagers would have had little or no access to medical care.

Holy Well, Luston (p.84)

‘At the northern end of Luston village, at the turning to Eye, is a Holy Well the water of which is now collected in a concrete tank from which it emerges through a pipe.’

Holy Well, Adforton (p.87)

‘This spring, which is on government property and said to have “a pretty constant make,” emerges in Wenlock Shale ground at a point 960 yds. from Adforton Church in a south-westerly direction. There are said to be seven springs which locally are reputed to have medicinal properties.’

Laugh Lady Well, Brampton Bryan (p.89)

‘A cairn has been erected over this spring the yield of which is now small since the bulk is taken for the Park and village supply. The legend attached to this well is that if a pin be dropped in and bubbles arise from it, the wish then made will be granted.’

Cawdor Well, Ross Rural (p.99)

‘This well, on the northern boundary of the Ross Urban District, was fed by five weak springs from sandstone, but has now been filled up with earth. For long its water was held in high esteem for curing rheumatism, etc.’

Holy Well, Garway (p.105) SO455224

‘In the churchyard of St. Michael’s Church is a Holy Well. The water comes through a spout in the churchyard wall, but it is the overflow of a stone tank (in a hollow at the back) into which a spring from sandstone runs…. The occurrence of this spring caused the Knights Templars to select the site for one of their preceptories.’

Holy Well, Holywell, Blakemere (p.108)

‘At Holywell, the Holy Well is a perennial spring of good water, issuing from a gravel bed in a field at the back of the school, from which all the people in the hamlet fetch their supplies.’

The Dragon’s Well, Brinsop (p.109)

‘”The church…is dedicated to St. George…The Dragon’s Well is in Duck Pool meadow, on the south side of the church, while on the other side is a field called ‘Lower Stanks’…where St. George slew the Dragon.”’ [quoted from Mrs Leather’s Folk-Lore of Herefordshire, p.11]

Eye Well, Mansell Gamage (p.110)

‘There is an Eye Well in Eye Well Field on the top of the hill.’

Eye Well, Bromyard (pp.114-15)

‘This spring (about half a mile south-west-by-south of Bromyard Church) is on land…by the side of the Hereford road…The water had for long the reputation of being “good for the eyes” and was used for bathing them up to about twenty years ago [i.e. c. 1915]. “Eye Well” has now become erroneously “High-well” and a house built near by bears this name.’

Crooked Well, Kington (p.115)

‘This spring – the source of the town’s supply – according to tradition was “good for the eyes.” By some it is said to be so called because a crooked pin was necessary as an offering; but Mr. G. Marshall suggests that the name comes from the old word “crooked” (crokyd), which was equivalent to lame or crippled.’

St Ethelbert’s Well, Castle Hill, Hereford (p.127) SO511396

‘According to tradition a spring “is said to have sprung up on the spot where St. Ethelbert’s body touched the ground on its removal from Marden [to Hereford Cathedral] in 793. A mutilated sculptured head of St. Ethelbert, part of an effigy which formerly stood at the west end of the Cathedral, is fixed above the well. A circular stone within the garden of Mr. Custos Eckett’s house marks the exact position of the spring.” “Some years ago, when the well was cleaned out, a quantity of pins were found in it. The water was held especially good for ulcers and sores.”’ [First quotation from Trans. Woolhope Nat. F.C. for 1918; second quote from Mrs Leather’s Folk-Lore of Herefordshire, pp.11,12]

 

 

The Ancient Water supplies of Canterbury

The following post originally appeared in Bygone Kent 23 12-16 

Canterbury appears to have been well supplied with springs, a factor which may have lead to its adoption as a settlement from prehistoric times. This, together with Canterbury’s considerable importance as a pilgrim goal through the middle ages, has also not surprisingly resulted in a number of noted culted and religious watering holes. Indeed St. Thomas’s Shrine was associated with a healing spring. At the height of the Canterbury pilgrims, St. Thomas’s Well would have been the most famous well in the county, if not the country. Every pilgrim would take its water, believed to be of a highly curative nature, and it became an important part of the pilgrimage. Despite this, it is surprisingly now little known and the well itself has been lost. Although authorities place it in the choir of the cathedral, a site to the left hand of the original shrine site in the crypt is identified. This being a circular stone set into the crypt floor.
Even before his martyrdom, Thomas had already attracted a considerable following, and this well, which he drank from daily, had already gained special notice. After his death, it became even more famed. Indeed, one of his first miracles is by some accounts associated with this water. It involved a man, who upon dipping his shirt in the saint’s blood and rinsed it into its water, he gave this to his wife who was cured of her paralysis.

Obviously the monks were quick to see an important source of revenue. At first pilgrims were supplied with a phial of water into which drops of the saint’s blood were added, but a later story stated that the monks swept the spilt blood into the well, and the water brimmed with miraculous healing water! A story probably supported by the presence of red iron or chalybeate waters as found at Tunbridge. This later story was doubtlessly concocted when the original source of blood ran out! A worn step in the south aisle of the Trinity Chapel is said to be where they knelt to receive the water. Gerveise records ( cited in Erasmus ( 1876 ) Pilgrimage to St. Mary of Walsingham and St. Thomas of Canterbury):

‘..it is not beside my purpose to relate the way in which the Blood of the new Martyr, mixed with water, is given to drink, and then carried away, to the pious who desire.’

Many miracles became associated with the water. One tells of a priest called William of London, who was struck dumb at the feast of the Protomartyr, St. Justian and in a dream was told that he should visit the shrine and be cured. This he did and indeed was. Such news helped to attract greater numbers. As Gerveise continues:

‘As soon as this was divulged to the people, many came to ask for the same: when the Holy Blood was bestowed upon the sick mixed with pure water, in order that it may last longer.’

Another recorded miracle is that of a certain London Shoemaker Gilbert, suffering with fistula, was cured by its water and after returning the sixty-six miles home to London, he stripped to the waist and challenged his neighbours to a race! It appears to have even been able to restore life to the dead, although how the dead drank is not explained! Despite the great cures the saint could also be vindictive to the unworthy, irreligious or insincere. Such people would often find their lead phials, of St. Thomas’s Water, mysteriously empty, even before leaving the Cathedral precincts. ( In truth they often leaked! )

Naturally, such miracles were treated as suspiciously during the dark days of the Reformation, and in 1538 Lord Cromwell, doubting their authority, had pilgrimages stopped. The Kings Commission destroyed Beckett’s Shrine, and the well was consequently lost.

In the town there is another site associated with Beckett’s murder, called the Red Pump. This is said to be painted red as a memorial to the saint’s death. When this legend begun, and why it should be so connected is not clear. Yet, its connection with a Roman milestone suggests some antiquity for the site.

Records note a number of named springs which carry religious names, although few exist in any form or their history fully documented. One of these sites is a St. Edburga’s Well, noted by Urry as Eadburgawelle, and mentioned in a grant to St. Augustine’s Abbey in the Ninth century. Its site is now lost, and even its exact location unclear. Other sites mentioned are a St. Peter’s Well which is noted on a map drawn by Somner ( 1703 ) although he does not refer to the name in his text. There was also a Sunwin’s Well, which according to Urry was named after Sunwin the Smith and lay in the alley from the Cathedral to the Buttermarket. Other medieval wells were Hottewelle and Queningate Well. The former is interesting and suggests it may have been a thermal spring. This is particularly significant as I am unaware of any such sites in the county, and so the site may record such a rarity. ( Was it used by the Romans? ). Records show that a Gilbert the Priest lived close by to this site. The later. Queningate Well was, known also known as Fons de Cueningate, and may again have been known to Romans as it is associated with a Roman gateway.

Remains of St Rhadegund’s Bath credit Len Patrick http://www.machadoink.com/ST%20RADIGUNDS%20BATH/8_SM.jpg

A Roman origin is given for a fascinating lost site called St. Radegund’s Bath which is believed to have originated as a bath, and latterly to be associated with the cult of St. Radegund. Why it should be associated with this Sixth Century royal saint is unclear, although it is known that her cult was present in the area, as there is a monastic site near Dover bearing her dedication. It is first noted by Gosling ( 1777 ), when it was adapted to cold bath and thus it is worth recording the description in full:

St. Radegund’s Bath, a fine spring built over and fitted for cold bathing….in altering a very ancient dwelling house near the bath some hollows or pipes were discovered, carried along in the thickness of an old stone wall, which seemed a contrivance for heating the room in former times, and making a sudatly or sweating room of it.’

Records do show that the City Corporation bought this bath in 1793, and it was consequently leased to Messrs. Simmons and Royle for 28 years. This bath house was extensively repaired in 1794, and its basin was enlarged and divided in two. The baths were originally covered by arched roofs and lit from above by windows set into two turrets. Separate dressing and waiting rooms were also installed to facilitate the customs. Yet by 1825, sadly both the building and the bath became dilapidated, and hence only occasionally used. Sadly the popularity of the nearby Dolphin Inn which was situated above the bath-house, undoubtedly precipitated its destruction. By the 1930s the site was only remembered by the ruins of the Bath house cottages and as Gardiner ( 1940 ) Notes on an ancient house in Church Lane, Canterbury notes that the:

‘Healing waters in the adjacent well or bath of St. Radegund recently ( most deplorably ) filled in, in making a car park.’

Hence regrettably nothing remains of the site to record what appears to have been an historically fascinating site.
To the east of the city centre, are two sites which perhaps considering the proximity to the ancient church of St. Martin’s, are the oldest utilised in the area. St. Martin’s Spring is believed to be that which flowed out into a drain in North Holmes Road ( formerly Church Lane ) but ceased to flow in 1979, possibly the result of trenching near the site of the well. The flow from this, or rather its aquifer source, and that St. Augustine’s Spring were probably incorporated into St. Augustine’s Conduit House as noted by Hasted ( 1797 – 1801 ):

“..among the ruins of St. Augustine’s Monastery, other on St. Martin’s Hill for the dispensing of which are several public conduits in the principal streets of the city..”

This conduit is now enclosed in St. Martin’s Heights Housing Estate. Little archaeologically speaking was known of the site before its slabbed roof collapsed in the 1980s. Previously, it has been only marked by a slight earth mound with a concrete slab. Consequently, this collapse revealed much that was unknown of this structure and this prompted English Heritage to undertake a better study. The concrete slab was opened up to reveal a series of steps leading down into the structure, a ‘dark watery chamber which in recent times children had filled with a variety of domestic rubbish.’ The conduit was shown to be a six sided structure, the chamber within is divided into two sections with three Romanesque arches through which green sluggish water flows. Experts suggest that there was a floor above chamber and the structure was covered by a tiled conical roof. It is likely that this conduit is twelfth century. Around the conduit there is evidence of a large man made pond, which may have predated the conduit in function, but this is unsubstantiated. The structure has now been sensitively restored and can be visited. The water supply of the St. Martins is well covered in an article by Jenkins ( 1980 ) in Trouble Waters ( The Parish of St. Martin and St. Paul, Canterbury Friends of St. Martin ) which mentions the conduits constructed for supplying the city.


The springs feeding the conduit house are part of a complex of aquifers issuing from the step natural hillside across the eastern side of the city in the St. Martin and Old Park area, such as that at Horsefold. Such springs, as Hasted ( 1797-1801 ) mentions, also fed a conduit in Christ Church priory, and all across the city. The exact supply of the Christ Church Priory was probably that of the large reed pond in the grounds of Old Park, but no ecclesiastical, religious, or specific name is recorded. From this source, the Norman Christ Church community had a very sophisticated water system drawing their water from which was the foundation for further improvements. The most remarkable survival of this system is the conduit or water tower, a product of Prior Wilbert‘s scheme. This is equally remarkable as the plans still exist! They show that from the source the water travelled through two and a half inch diameter pipes ( such that would maintain a suitable pressure ) to feed the water tower and lavers ( fountains for the monks ). The full plans and discussion of the water system can be read in an article by Willis ( 1889 ) The Conventional Buildings of the Monastery of Christ church in Canterbury. The springs may indeed have originally been exploited by the Romans to supply baths such as that of St. Radegund.

Clearly Canterbury’s ancient water heritage is a fascinating one showing how its abundant supply has been utilised over the medieval centuries. For anyone interested in ancient water supplies it is an interesting city.

 

Rediscovered/Restored: Guest blog post: A Saint’s Grave and Well in South Wales by Janet Bord

This month sees insearchofholywellsandhealingsprings.com is 7 a good birthday for sacred spring researchers – look it up@! Also it becomes the platform to host the Source and Living Spring Archive. The Source Archive consists of articles written in the mid 1980s and early 1990s for the Source Journal a short-lived but very influential attempt to bring together research on the topic. with Living Spring an even shorter lived but important online attempt to do the same. The original journal (divided into new and old series) was influenced by the burgeoning earth mysteries movement on the late 70s and early 80s and one of the most prominent exponents was Janet Bord. As is commonly said Janet needs no introduction amongst anyone interested in the space between archaeology and folklore. Janet work in the holy well field includes the Curses and Cures, Holy wells in Britain and the seminal Sacred Waters – a copy of which I myself purchased back in a Truro bookstore in 1985. A purchase which was very influential and lead to the birth of my fascination and research into the area. So it is with great honour that I introduce the first of a Source inspired articles (the next three from similarly influential James Rattue, Mark Valentine the original founder and Tristan Gray-Hulse editor of the new Series)

The disappointingly modern St Tewdrig’s Well, Mathern Copyright Janet Bord

Anyone who regularly visits holy wells must be aware of how they can differ in appearance and atmosphere.   We all know the delight of finding a hidden spring bubbling into a clear pool, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the landscape; and probably we can also all remember wells that are unloved and derelict. Those can often have a charm of their own too, perhaps being in an evocative place, or with enough remaining to suggest what the place was once like.   Sadly there are also wells that are in awful locations, and perhaps have also been badly restored; but luckily I can’t remember too many that come into this last category.   One that does is St Tewdrig’s Well at Mathern in Monmouthshire (ST52279116), just to the south-west of Chepstow and distressingly close to the M48 motorway. It’s a shame that the well has been so insensitively and over-thoroughly restored, because the area around the church and well has an interesting history.

St Tewdrig represented in the Parish church copyright Janet Bord

St Tewdrig was a king and martyr, probably born in the late 6th century. He handed over his kingdom to his son Meurig and lived as a hermit – until an angel appeared to him advising him to go and help Meurig who was in danger of being overrun by his enemies.   Despite also being told by the angel that he would die, Tewdrig went to help his son, and the enemies fled on seeing the two men and their army standing on the bank of the River Wye at Tintern. Unfortunately Tewdrig was stuck by a lance thrown by a fleeing soldier, and mortally wounded. He was taken in a cart pulled by stags to a meadow near the River Severn, where a spring began to flow, and there he died and was buried.   The place was given the name Merthyr Tewdrig (now Mathern) and a church was built over his grave. The name confirms that this is a genuinely ancient tradition, a ‘merthyr’ being an early Christian martyr’s burial place.

Mathern Church location of the St Tewdrig’s shrine copyright Janet Bord

In the early 17th century, Francis Godwin, Bishop of Llandaff, gave orders that a coffin found beneath the church floor was to be repaired, as it was thought to be Tewdrig’s: ‘I discovered his bones, not in the smallest degree changed, though after a period of a thousand years, the skull retained the aperture of a large wound, which appeared as if it had been recently inflicted.’ On his orders, the coffin was reburied in the chancel and a stone tablet put on the wall above, telling the story of St Tewdrig and his death. In 1881 the coffin was rediscovered when repairs were being carried out, and in 1946 an old lady told author Fred Hando that the vicar had taken her into the church when she was a child and showed her a big hole that had been dug in the chancel, and ‘in a stone coffin, she saw the remains of King Tewdrig, with the hole made by the spear-point still visible in his skull.’

The plaque marking the location of St Tewdrig’s coffin copyright Janet Bord

The well named for St Tewdrig is to be seen beside the lane just north of Mathern church, immediately south of the motorway.   There seems to be no record as to what it looked like before being restored by the Monmouth District Council in 1977. Although they are to be thanked for ensuring the well wasn’t lost, it’s a pity that they decided on this earnest municipal restoration that is completely lacking in atmosphere. With its steep steps leading down between walls to the well below, it puts one in mind of a drinking water well, rather than a place where a saintly king died over a thousand years ago.   But… it is impossible to be absolutely sure if this really was the spring which flowed where he died, because I have found no mention of it before 1847, at which time it was called Ffynnon Gor Teyrn. This name may possibly derive from the Welsh word cateyrn, meaning a ‘battle-king’, and is all the evidence we currently have that might confirm this as the saint’s well. But it is very close to the church, and all the evidence we have does suggest that this is indeed St Tewdrig’s well.

Janet Bord

My memories of Source by James Rattue

Those who are well versed in the subject of holy wells will be aware of James Rattue’s contribution to the subject. His county guides for Kent, Buckinghamshire and Surrey set a high benchmark for such research – including my own – and his magnus opus – The Living Stream: holy wells in historical context (1995) is as it states in one of the intros to his work on the Living Stream  ‘the most detailed and rigorous historical study of holy wells yet published in book format’. He was one of the main contributors to both the first or Old Series and New Series as well as the Living Spring Journal.

The establishment of the old Source magazine in 1985 coincided providentially with my own discovery that there were such things as holy wells. At the distance of over thirty years I can’t now remember quite how I found out about it: I have a memory that I made contact with Mark Valentine about his monograph on Northamptonshire wells and he told me the magazine was about to emerge. What I do remember clearly is the excitement the first edition brought as it plopped through the letterbox, an experience repeated with every one of its eight successors spread over the following few years. There were never enough! And the very first article in that initial, blue-covered, number was Jeremy Harte’s survey of holy wells in my native Dorset. Could it be any better?

Before Source my only guide to the sacred springs of my own county (and pretty much everywhere else) was, for all its shortcomings, RC Hope’s Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England. Bournemouth Central Library had a copy and as I turned its pages during one school summer holiday trying not to crumble the edges too much, I wondered how long it had been since anyone looked at it. Hope only lists six wells in Dorset, and of those, one site, the springs near Shaftesbury which were the subject of the annual Byzant ceremony, aren’t really holy wells of any description, while another, the supposed holy spring at Abbotsbury, doesn’t exist at all. Jeremy’s article in Source 1, however, introduced me to the fact that there were lots and lots of these places.

I wanted to visit them, but it would take years before I managed to chase them down, and by then I would realise that even Jeremy’s list was inadequate and that there were over a hundred named springs (if not holy wells, exactly) in Dorset alone. The probable Holy Well of East Stoke I have only just visited, thirty-five years later; I now know that the time I spent uncovering the featureless spring I thought was the well in 1987 or so, sinking in bog over the top of my wellingtons and snagging my jumper on barbed wire, was wasted apart from using up some calories. I couldn’t have visited the Holy Well of Hazelbury Bryan: that was only dug out of the Dorset mud to celebrate the Millennium fifteen years after Jeremy wrote about it.

My own contributions to Source first appeared in issue 5. Most of them were more detailed accounts of wells that Jeremy had mentioned, with the exception of St Andrew’s Well at Bradpole just north of Bridport, and the format of my pieces was heavily influenced by the way John Meyrick had laid out A Pilgrim’s Guide to the Holy Wells of Cornwall a little before, meticulously listing the date a site was visited and its map reference. That was all very well, but later on I began to deface the surface of holy well research, already far from pristine, with a variety of unwonted speculations. My article in Source 6 included ‘All Saints’ Well Hordle’ in Hampshire, presumed to be holy on the grounds of its proximity to an ancient church, a fact which at least I had the grace to admit. Issue 7 described ‘All Saints’ Well Thorney Hill’, a well in the grounds of a chapel I generously described as ‘no more than 250 years old’ (in fact it dates to 1906). It’s a nice feature but no one has ever treated it as a holy well of any kind. There was more wishful thinking in issue 8 when I wrote about ‘St Andrew’s Well Corton Denham’ in Somerset, another spring I’d given a sacred identity due to its being near a church. All these speculations resulted from me adopting completely uncritically the idea that pre-Reformation Christians had, wittingly or not, sited their places of worship on previously sacred locations which preserved an ancient awareness of the mystical power of the earth. I hope nobody now uses my descriptions of these ‘holy wells’ as evidence that they ever existed, at least not without heavy caveats!

By the time Source re-emerged in 1994 under the editorship of Tristan Gray-Hulse it was as sceptical about these ideas as I had become. I now knew far more about the field of holy wells and therefore that it was beyond the scope of any small journal to list every one that might be found in a given area, and as if in sympathy, the new Source didn’t try to do this. Instead it concentrated on focused studies of particular sites or motifs that could illustrate wider themes. Tristan must have solicited a contribution from me before the first edition appeared as it carried a piece I’d written about the Holy Well of Frome, created by a Victorian Anglo-Catholic clergyman; it was followed by a short article on the folly-wells of Stourhead and one speculating on the origin of some wells dedicated to St Swithun in a Yorkshire dialect word meaning something completely different. These were all elements in the history of holy wells in which I’d become increasingly interested as I’d discovered that their story was much more complicated than I originally thought. No longer were holy wells merely taciturn, numinous features in the landscape: I understood more about them and how they had developed, their enormous diversity as well as the way they intersected with other features and historical themes.

It was something of a necessary loss of innocence, I suppose, and Source had followed me in this, until its final appearance in 1998. But in the same way that coming across a really nice well that I’ve never seen before (even through the accounts of someone else) brings a sense of excitement, and re-visiting one of my favourite sites to see what mood it might be in carries a thrill of anticipation – because the well is continually changing – I will always remember with greatest affection the arrival of that first issue of Source, all those years ago.

James Rattue

How Source begun by Mark Valentine

Mark Valentine was the founder and editor of the first or Old Series of Source. He went on to become an editor of over 40 books and writer of ghost or supernatural stories, and an essayist on book-collecting. numerous articles for Book and Magazine Collector, and his essays on book-collecting, minor writers and related subjects have been collected in Haunted By Books (2015) and A Country Still All Mystery (2017). His short stories have been published in a number of collections and in anthologies. 

 

 

 

The inspiration for Source was a hand-duplicated A4 magazine called Wood & Water, edited from Swindon by Hilary Llewellyn-Williams and Tony Padfield, and dedicated to ancient springs and groves. I had found a copy on a visit to Glastonbury, along with a clutch of other fascinating publications, including Caerdroia, devoted to turf mazes (and still going), Pendragon, an Arthurian magazine, Sangraal, about the Mysteries of Britain, and a broadsheet Druid journal printed on deep gold-coloured paper.

The only holy wells I knew about before I found W&W were the Chalice Well at Glastonbury, which had a gentle quiet garden, and St Anne’s Well, Malvern, which had an octagonal cottage which was then a kite shop. I had no idea there were hundreds of other holy wells. But after reading W&W, I at once set about trying to find any holy wells in Northamptonshire, where I lived, and by following up clues in old history and folklore books I soon discovered some. They often had rather splendid names – Old Mother Redcap’s; Puck’s; Priest’s; the Drumming Well (which foretold danger to the nation) – and they were mostly fairly neglected. It felt exciting and mysterious looking into things nobody else seemed to know about, deep in lonely country, so naturally this encouraged me even more.

I was already involved in amateur publishing in various ways, contributing to a punk fanzine, Crash Smash Crack Ring, and a ghost stories journal, Dark Dreams, and editing a literary magazine, the incurable. So it seemed obvious that I should start writing about holy wells. I therefore self-published a booklet, The Holy Wells of Northamptonshire (1984), cataloguing all the references I could find, and reporting on my site visits. I also visited the better-known and slightly better-preserved wells in West Penwith, Cornwall, where I went on holiday, and wrote about some of these for Wood & Water.

After a while, Hilary and Tony decided to widen the magazine’s scope and it became a “radical ecopagan feminist” journal, still very much brimming with inspiration and featuring holy wells alongside these broader themes. (Hilary was later to become a respected published poet, whose work I followed, and highly recommend). However, I thought there might be space still for a magazine just about holy wells, and so I started Source. I asked a few friends for contributions and got similar sorts of antiquities and mysteries magazines to mention what I was up to. My first readers were from the earth mysteries scene because that’s where I was coming from, but soon others got to hear about it who had a background in folklore, saints’ legends, paganism, local history and so on: I tried to keep the magazine as open-minded as possible, including both factual and impressionistic material.

I was delighted and encouraged by the number of people who came forward to help out, providing articles, artwork, publicity, subscriptions. It really seemed as though there was a great network of researchers, custodians and well-wishers out there who had just been waiting for some focal point for all their work: I just needed to be the conduit. I was also cheered when I heard from quite a few people that Source had inspired them to look after their own local holy well. I was also still sufficiently impressionable to be astounded when I got subscriptions and warm words from famous people, as I thought of them, such as the New Age writers John Michell and Rupert Sheldrake and the pagan artist Monica Sjoo.

Though major work had already been done in some parts of the country (eg, Meyrick in Cornwall; Skyring-Walters in Gloucestershire; Francis Jones in Wales) I think we probably published the first surveys of some of the lesser-known counties and areas. It therefore seemed to me that the next step should be to publish full-scale books like those earlier surveys, but I could see it would be hard to edit Source and do this too. I was fortunate to find that a keen reader, Tristan Gray Hulse, was willing to take over the magazine and grstefully handed over. The first of the books I had in mind was, I am afraid, also the last: Yorkshire Holy Wells and Springs (1989) by Edna Whelan and Ian Taylor was a splendid account, informed by Ian’s determined field-work, and accompanied by Edna’s illustrations.

Although I’m not so active in holy wells research and preservation as I was then, I’m pleased to see the way in which these ancient and lovely sacred shrines still inspire deep interest and care. I’m very grateful to Ross for taking on and looking after the Source archive, and I hope it will continue to be of interest to many readers and well-wishers.

 

Mark Valentine

Ffynnon Fair, Llandecwyn by Tristan Gray Hulse

In 1994 after a period of absence Source was reborn under the helm of Tristan Gray Hulse and Roy Fry. Under their stewardship Source became more academically minded and in particular focused more on monograms of specific sites which were merticulously researched. Tristan himself due to his monastic background contributing some important pieces as well as questioning some long held folklore views in the subject such as head cults. After source went on to research and write a number of scholarly pieces on saint cults and holy wells including a piece on votive offerings at St Trillo’s well in the folklore journal as well as being involved with St Winifred’s well in Holywell. So it is with great pleasure and a great honour that his unpublished monogram on a north Welsh well – and how Welsh wells doyen Francis Jones could get it wrong – in my celebration of Source. 

Immediately to the north of Plas Llandecwyn, on the side of an ancient lane leading uphill towards the church of St Tecwyn, Llandecwyn, Merioneth, a short distance away, is the holy well of St Tecwyn. It is still just as it was described 100 years ago by the Royal Commission Inspecting Officer.

Ffynnon Decwyn … The antiquary Edward Lhuyd, or a correspondent of his, writing about the year 1698, has the note “Fynnon Deckwyn by plas Ll. Deckwyn not far from ye church”.

Near Plas Llandecwyn is a spring which flows into a cavity about 3 feet at the front and 2 feet at the back by a breadth of 21 inches; the water stands in its rock cistern to a depth of 14 inches, and as there is a slight but steady overflow the water is kept sweet. There can be little doubt that this is the well noted by Lhuyd, but the name of Tecwyn is now not connected with it … Visited, 15 August, 1914 (An Inventory 1921, 82, § 214).

The name Ffynnon Decwyn is apparently now in common use for the well once more.
The Inspecting Officer continued his entry by noting

a spot about 330 yards north-east of the church where is a hole about 21 inches square cut into the rock at the level of the road, water dripping within and overflowing the road”.

This unnamed well also survives much as described, though it is now covered with small rough slabs of stone, for protection. And a few yards south of the lych-gate is another spring, rising at the northern or upper end of what appears to have been a regularly rectangular tank, now choked with water-weeds. It is initially tempting to guess that one or other of these unnamed springs represents a further sacred well claimed for the parish, Ffynnon Fair, listed by Francis Jones in his The Holy Wells of Wales (1954).

Jones, citing Edward Lhwyd in reference, included the well in his list of Ffynhonnau Mair in Merioneth in his gazetteer of Welsh holy wells:

Ff. Fair … 2. ‘By ye Church’ in Llandecwyn parish – Lhuyd Par. ii. 105 (Jones 1954, 191).

However, it turns out that this well is no more than a “ghost”, created by Jones’ trusting but careless reading of Lhwyd in the at-this-point potentially confusing editing of the Parochialia texts by Rupert Morris. As the printed edition stands (Lhwyd Paroch., part 2, 1910), the entry for “Llandekwyn” runs from p. 103 to the foot of p. 106, and notices “Fynnon vair by ye Church” on p. 105 and “Fynnon Deckwyn by plas Ll Deckwyn not far from ye church” on p. 106. The Llandecwyn entry is immediately followed by that for “Mantwrog” (top of p. 107), which, as it stands, consists of only six lines.

But it is clear that a section of this arrangement (from p. 104 line 7 to p. 105 line 30, reproducing pp. 131-133 of the original Lhwyd ms as seen and edited by Morris) has been displaced in the original Lhwyd ms; this section all refers to Maentwrog parish, not to Llandecwyn, and must originally have followed and completed the now minimal Maentwrog entry (at the bottom of original ms p. 137) printed at the top of Lhwyd 1910, p. 107. This restores the original reading, a complete text, of the normal Parochialia format, for Maentwrog immediately following a complete text of familiar format for Llandecwyn (thus, originally: Llandecwyn, ms pp. 129-130, 136-137; Maentwrog, ms pp. foot of p. 137, 131-133).

This explains why the mentions of Ffynnon Decwyn and Ffynnon Fair are separated in the Morris printed text. It also means that “Fynnon vair by ye Church” was in Maentwrog parish, not in Llandecwyn; and that, therefore, there is no mention of a Ffynnon Fair in Llandecwyn parish. The Llandecwyn Ffynnon Fair is an inadvertent creation of Francis Jones, who then duplicates the well by separately noticing the Maentwrog well, from the Royal Commission Inventory for Merioneth:

Ff. Fair … 7. About 80 yards SE of Maentwrog church: it supplied the neighbouring houses – Anc. Mon. Mer. (Jones 1954, 191).

The Maentwrog well still survives, basically as per the Inventory:

Ffynnon Fair … This well is situated on sloping ground about 80 yards south-east of the church, and north of a terrace called Bron Fair. It is now enclosed in a square slate cistern, and [in 1914 still, but no longer] supplies the neighbouring houses (An Inventory 1921, 154, § 498).

Tristan Gray Hulse
25 April 2016

References

An Inventory of the Ancient Monuments in Wales and Monmouthshire. VI. County of Merioneth, London: HMSO, 1921
Jones, Francis, The Holy Wells of Wales, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1954
Lhwyd, Edward, Parochialia, being a summary of answers to “Parochial Queries in order to a Geographical Dictionary, etc., of Wales”, ed. Rupert H. Morris, part 2, London: The Cambrian Archaeological Association, 1910

Lost ancient, healing and holy wells of Leicester

Leicester unsurprisingly being an ancient settlement boasts a number of wells all of which have been lost. The most noted is the spring-name called Tostings Well, which some authorities believe derives St Augustine’s Well.   An author with the name ‘Leicestriensis’ says in 1852 (quoted in Potter (1985)) that it was

“now covered and enclosed; but within the memory of persons still living it was in the state… described by Nichols… “Good for sore eyes”… even since the enclosure of the well, many applications for water from the pump erected in the adjoining ground have, I know, been made… On making some enquiries a few years ago of “the oldest inhabitant”, he… exclaimed “Oh! You mean Tostings’s Well!”’.

Nichols (1795–1815) places near a footbridge called Bow-Bridge ran from the Friary near the West Bridge, over a back water of the Soar, to the garden called Bow Church Yard. He describes it as:

“for the use of the friars to a constant spring of limpid water, on the paved road side, a few paces distant, called St Austin’s Well”

Bowbridge site of Tostings well, more famed for the location of Richard III head hitting!

It is noted when the Corporation mended the bridge in 1688, St Austin’s well was mending for £2 14s 8d. Nichols (1795-1815) notes that it was:

“Still overflowing with contribution to the back water… the well is three quarters of a yard broad, and the same in length within its inclosure, the depth of its water from the lip or back-edging on the earth, where it commonly overflows, is half a yard. It is covered with a mill-stone, and enclosed with stone and brick on three sides; that towards Bow-bridge and the town is open.”

Sadly it has now been entirely destroyed, occasioned by widening the road.

Slightly more difficult were the springs associated with Leicester Abbey were the Merrie Wells which Potter (1985) and Rattue (1993) suggest derivation of St. Mary’s Well, although no record confirms this. The springs too have been lost. .

More likely is unusually named St Sepulchre’s Well, recorded as Pulcre well in 1476 and was believed to be associated with a chantry of Corpus Christi recorded in 1458 in the payment records of de Joh. Paulmer pro crofto juxta fontem S. Sepulchri. It appears that by 1574 it was called according to Cox (1998-2004) ‘the spring at St James Chapell’ 1573, ‘the hermitage well’ 1638, and ‘the Chappell Well’ 1689,

‘Leicestriensis’ (1852) calls it St James’s Well, as the Chapel of St James survived that dedicated to St. Sepulchre. Billson (1895) notes it as:

“a holy well close to the old pond at the corner of Infirmary Square. This well had a never-failing supply of fresh water, until the deep drainage of the town diverted it from its original outlet.”

Leicester had two attempts at developing a spa, Spa place a terrace of four late Georgian houses remembers the first. Here in 1787 a mineral spring was discovered when a  well was being sunk for cattle, and Spa Place. Watts (1820) comments how:

“furnished by the proprietor with neat marble baths and easy convenient appendage for bathing, has not been found to be sufficiently impregnated with mild properties to bring proper use”. 

The Leicester Journal reported in 1794 that ‘Leicester Spa is now in high perfection’, Yet it was unsuccessful and by 1798 to a General Baptist College had taken over the site, this became a private house and latter offices. It is remember as Spa Lane.

Another mineral spring was discovered close to what is now Fosse Road North in 1830 by a local market gardener called Isaac Harrison. As a result the area becoming known as Newfoundpool. At the site a Hydropathic Institution was built but by 1835 it was converted into a private residence, Newfoundpool House where the Harrison family lived. However, some of the baths remained open for occasional use. There was another attempt in 1853 to advertise them as having:

“these baths will be found equal, if not superior, to any other baths in the neighbourhood”.

However the revival did not work and when in the 1880s ,the area was being developed, the Hydropathic Institution became the Empire Hotel. This become derelict in the 2005 and was demolished to build a Lidl supermarket in 2014.

  Image result for empire hotel leicester

The only other surviving of the city’s water history is the Cank Well a plaque of which exists on Cank Street.

Local tradition states that it was famous as a meeting place of gossips, the word cank being a term for cackle. However, this might be folk etymology as in Leicestershire it is a name of a hard ferruginous (i.e iron rich) sandstone and it may record chalybeate (iron rich) and those healing qualities. Alternatively cank may refer to cancer and it was a curative well…but we can debate and gossip that all we want, there is no evidence!

 

 

 

 

Rediscovered/Restored: The mineral well of Tenbury Wells, Worcestershire

A search for fresh water

When landowner Mr S. H. Godson was looking for a better supply of water in , he exposed a brine mineral water which although not good for drinking could have potential. Then Dr.  A. B. Granville took an interest. In 1837 he had written a book on The Spas in Germany which aroused much interest and in 1839/1840 he undertook a tour of England and in the Midlands section he toured Buxton, Matlock, Woodhall, Spa, Ashby-de-la-Zouch, Tenbury, Malvern, Leamington, Cheltenham etc. He wrote of the waters describing the effect on them on his digestive system:

“Immediately upon swallowing half a tumbler of Tenbury water, a disturbance, or rather a commotion, is set up in the abdomen, which, upon a repetition of the same quantity of the fluid, after a proper interval, will be found in most cases to end in a way desirable in the circumstances.”

Visiting the site 1839 Grenville advised on modifications to the well structure in which would prevent contamination from other springs and prevent dilution of the mineral properties. His analysis suggested it contained Iodine and as such would have healing properties. To be successful, Grenville suggested that to be successful the town needed:

“baths pump rooms and a promenades, lodging houses, walks roads and other accommodation in order to constitute a Spa of the first class.”

There was a problem with such an enterprise, Godson’s land at The Court could not be expanded as there was local opposition. Grenville however was so keen it seeing the site developed that his son, an architect, was sent but this was to no available Mr. Price of the adjacent Crown Inn decided that one well was not enough to supply the amount of bottled water needed. He commenced sinking a well on his premises and on August 24th 1840 at a depth of 42ft he reached the mineral water layer. This opposition was soon bought out by Septimus Godson. They and the small red brick bath house was constructed in 1840, and by March 1841 they published the rules and regulations for using the well, the Court ground were used for promenading after drinking or bathing often listening to a band. Then by 1850 a London surgeon was in residence running the Spa and two wells were now available. However, financial difficulties made the site close albeit temporarily in 1855, but the coming of the railway revitalised it. Local businessmen developed the ‘Tenbury Wells Improvement Company’ in December of 1860 and built the present pump room on the meadow by the Swan Hotel. In A Mr. James Cranston of Birmingham in 1862 was behind the design of new Spa, consisting of 2 halls with a Pump Room including a recess with a fountain. The Spa. An octagonal tower was built containing the well and pumps. the whole were surrounded by pleasure grounds. The building costing approximately £1000.

Taking a 99 year lease on the site, the Tenbury Wells Improvement Company asked Mr Thomas Morris, well sinker, to remove the whole of the bricks, curls and ironwork from the old mineral well by the Swan Inn and used at the new site. However, the Crow’s well was cleaned and established as a reservoir. The Well was 58ft from the surface and produced mineral water at the rate of 20 gallons hour. The smell was said to be something like when a gun was discharged.

The Tenbury History website state:

“He got the idea for the design of the Spa from some greenhouses he was designing at Holmer, near Hereford. In 1862 he published a book about a newly patented design for Horticulural Buildings and he used this principle for The Tenbury Spa replacing glass panels with those of sheet steel, It was erected on a pre-fabricated principle being one of the first in the country. The wrought iron plates and cast iron clips with foliated ends were made in Birmingham and erected on site. The building was described as being ‘Chinese Gothic’. The roof was painted in French Grey with rolls between being deeper and bluer in shade. The Spa was supposed to attract the ‘Middle to Working Class’.”

On May 1st 1883 the baths opened for the summer season, they consisted of six hot baths cost 9/- ( 45p) and six cold baths 5/- (25p). It was suggested by the 1916 Medical Times that after the first world war, convalescent soldiers should go to Tenbury Wells and by 1913 the name of Tenbury Wells had stuck becoming official later. Ironically the Pump rooms were about to decline. During the war it was used for bathing evacuees but this was the last time it was used for any bathing albeit not medicinal. Despite plans as late as 1931 the wells were filled in in 1939.

Slowly the building fell into decline, becoming a brewery, a tea room and Women’s institute but by 1978 it was in serious decline and decay. Kathleen Denbign in her A hundred British Spas wrote in 1981

“In such a bad state of decay that it was bolted and barred and threatened with demolition – though not without protest from local residents.”

It was purchased by the Leominster District Council in 1986 but that did not halt the decline. Repairs were finally done in 1998/9 with funds from English Heritage, Advantage West Midlands, the European Regional Development Fund, Malvern Hills and Leominster District Councils and Teme Rural Challenge. The Tenbury wells history website note the problems with the repair:

“The major problem that the architects responsible for the repair had to deal with was a major sag of one of the portal frames over the conservatory glass. It appears to have been due to bad design. Each roof structure now has a steel member going down to a concrete block cast at foundation level.

There was also a big problem with regalvanising the wrought iron sheets. After being regalvanised they buckled and would not fit the structure. This was solved by sending the sheets to specialist car body firm in the Medway who were used to dealing with very thin steel. Another big problem was to ensure that the roof was watertight. The roof was an extremely complicated shape, there were valleys and areas of flat roof and all sorts of unusual angles between one part of the building and another. It never was watertight originally, but hopefully, all the problems have now been solved.

All the wrought iron sheets now have spaces between them to try and stop any rust problems recurring and it has been fully insulated. A lot of the brick work was only 1/2 brick thick and so would always have been rather wobbly. This has all been straightened, but still keeping the exterior as it was built in 1862.

With insulation, damp barriers and other weatherproofing measures means that it is now up to modern building standards and hopefully now as an office and tiny museum one can now peer into the well, see its ornate foundation, baths and read all about it. It was probably originally designed for a life of only 25 years, but has lasted 137 years.