Dear followers and casual readers, as Covid-19 spreads across the globe and around 80% of the World’s population are in Lock Down the chances of any of us visiting a holy well are less than usual – unless its on our recreational walk or like me its under the house! Therefore I thought I’d post some Youtube videos which enable us to travel to holy wells from the comfort and perhaps frustration of our armchairs. I plan to focus on an area each month until the Lock Down period is over in the UK – sorry the rest of the world!
This month – Wales
A great introductory lecture
In search of the healing and ancient wells and springs of Folkestone part two – Foord’s chalybeate spring
In this second post on the town’s noted water supplies we turn to its chalybeate spring. Like many of the towns, Folkestone made a bid to develop into a spa town. In the town a Chalybeate Spring is noted by Seymour in his 1776 Survey of Kent:
“At a place called Foord, a quarter of a mile distant west from Folkestone, is a fine salubrious spring of water, which has all the virtue and efficacy of the chalybeate being impregnated with iron in a degree equal to the Tunbridge Water. It has been proved with success by Dr Gill, operates by urine and perspiration, and is of infinite service in cold chronic distemper, weakness, and bad digestions.”
He describes it as:
“CHALYBEATE SPRING which although uninviting in appearance from its ferruginous aspect is much resorted to in cases of stomach affection and nervous debility after a long illness The component parts of this water are Carbonic Muriatic and Sulphuric Acids Soda Lime Magnesia and Iron which occur in the following order Carbonate of Soda, Carbonate of lime, Muriate of Soda Carbonate of Soda Carbonate of Lime, Muriate of Soda, Muriate of Lime, Sulphate of Soda, Carbonate of Iron The water is principally alkaline from Carbonate of Soda the quantity of Muriate is small The charge for drinking it is very moderate.”
In L. Fussel’s 1818 Journey round the Coast of Kent:
“such an accidental circumstance that which first brought Tunbridge wells into repute is only wanting to give celebrity to the chalybeate water at Foord, and make the fortunes of Mr Holmes, a very civil, attentive and intelligent master of the Red Cow near the spot.”
As noted thus in 1815, the said Red Cow landlord, William Holmes, obtained a license to bottle and sell its waters. Seymour (1776) suggests that the site could be made a valuable spa, suggesting suitable accommodation at a Mr. James Bateman’s White Hart Inn.. Yet, whether he was basing his views on any tradition. It was said that the best time to drink the water would be in the morning, taking a further two or three glasses through the day. It was often mixed with milk or even brandy to make it more palatable!
Amongst the diseases Foord’s water could cure were:
“diarrhoea, gout, rheumatism, flatulence, gout, rheumatism, scurvy, blood fluxes, dysentery, bleeding of piles, lowness of spirits, weakness of the nerves, want of appetite, indigestion, habitual colic, vomiting, jaundice, dropsy, nephritic disorders, asthma and scorbutick cases”.
By 1850 a mock castle had been built as a pump room by Mr J G Breach of Pavilion Hotel, but the lack of baths, and entertainers and the rise of sea bathing lead to its demise! Sadly he did not make his fortune, moved on, but the Silver Spring Mineral Water Company, did move to Foord Road in the 1890’s., remembered by a plaque over what was Crown European Upholstery, now closed itself. Indeed, when Dr Augustus Granville was researching for his 1841 The Spas of England and Principle Sea Bathing places he missed it
The spring has long gone, a row called Chalybeate row being built on the site, until 2012 a pub named after the Mock Castle survived to remember Folkestone’s attempt to become a spa town’ but this too has gone!
Christian reader view in me,
An emblem of true charity,
Who freely what I have bestow,
Though neither heard nor seen to flow,
And I have full return from heaven,
For every cup of water given.
Cuthbert Bridgewater on a plaque above the spring
Overlooked by Liverpool’s august Anglican Cathedral rising amongst the dead of its rock cut cemetery, the spring arising there could easily be confused as a holy well. But of course, the Cathedral is Victorian in date and the spring was only discovered when the quarry was being made!. This was 1773 and a local surgeon, James Worthington was quick to identify its possible benefits. In his paper about the site he said the water was good for
“loss of appetite, nervous disorders, Lowness of spirit, headache is proceeding from crudities of the stomach, Ricketts and weak eyes.”
Similarly, a Dr. Houston identified the site as important and gave it the name ‘Liverpool Spa’ stating that the water was cool and refreshing to taste but ‘warmed the stomach and gave a cordial and inebriating sensation’ In an article called Virtues of the Liverpool Spa he records that:
“This water then contains, without a doubt, iron dissolved, both by fixed air, and by vitriolic acid: in this latter circumstance having the advantage over Tunbridge, and most of our other chalybeates. This renders it not liable, like them, to deposit its metallic principle by keeping. Yet the mineral vitriol is so very much diluted and so minutely divided, as to render it at once extremely beneficial, perfectly innocent and accepted even to weak stomachs. There is also a small proportion of muriatic and earthly salt, mentioned above, but not in such proportion as to claim any share in the medicinal effects.”
The account states that:
“It is particularly adapted to promote appetite and digestion, and to strengthen the tone of the stomach, impaired by excess or other causes. It gradually strengthens the whole habit, and hence is excellent in that weakness, which remains after acute diseases, and for those who, without any apparent cause, lose their strength, fall away, and are generally said to be going into weakness. It is useful in the first stage, or beginning of consumptions, and may be used with advantage, even in the more advanced stages, if the matter spit up be good pus and there be no considerable degree of fever.
It is of great service in nervous diseases, and in such as arise from weakness of the system, and reciprocally serve to increase it as in the beginning of a dropsy, in the Pluor albus or other feminal weaknesses, Diarrhoea and Diabetes. It is good to prevent the gout in the stomach and bowels, may be useful in rheumatisms, and in some bodies may remove the cause of barrenness or imbecility. In general it will be serviceable in a relaxed state of the solids arising from luxury, or excess or inaction, or a sedentary life, or consequent on iome d sease: it will correct a bad habit of body, and promote good suppuration and granulation in ulcers; and its frequent use will render a person less liable to be affected by cold, damp or putrid air, epidemical or other causes of diseases. It will provide an efficacious medicine in all the cases which were mention’d under the article of iron.”
After a length discourse on who should not take it the account the author talks about the method of using the water
“The best time for drinking this water is when the stomach is empty, in a morning, or an hour or two before dinner. It is proper to begin with half a pint, or a pint, and gradually to increase the dose, so as to take in some cases four or five pints a day, or even to use it for common drink at meals. The use of it should be continued for a pretty long time to reap the benefit of it, and where the quantity drank has been gradually increased, as soon as the end proposed is obtained, it shou’d be gradually decreased though not perhaps entirely left off. The summer season is best for drinking it, although the chief reason for this is that the fittest for exercise and bathing which greatly promote the good effects of the water, especially in nervous cases: this is also one motive for advising its being drank at the spring rather than at home. Moderate exercise, regularity, temperance, a light simple diet, not flatulent, using but little animal food, malt liquor, tea or coffee and relaxation of the mind also contribute much to assist its operation; as does, in obstructions, the warm bath.”
Another local surgeon, a Dr. James Worthington, also attempted to promote the spring in a pamphlet called Experiments on the Spa at Mount Zion, Near Liverpool in it he said it was good for:
“Loss of appetite, nervous disorders, lowness of spirit, headache, crudities of the stomach, rickets and weak eyes.”
However, the spring was largely ignored possibly due to its location in the cemetery and indeed within twenty years of its discovery it was overgrown by bushes. In the 1800s it was restored and surrounded by railings and filled a large pool. Despite the lack of interest for its medicinal water it did have a rather unusual effect on the graveyards its nearby occupants. In 1894, the copse of Captain David Gwin who died in 1813 was found to be completely petrified and turned to stone due to mineral water from the spring entering the grave. Today the spring flows continuously its water largely ignored by passersby but certainly still visited as shown by the presence of the leaf inserted into its flow.
In the final instalment of the examination of Carshalton’s healing, ancient and holy waters. In the first we examined the Queen Anne Boleyn’s Well and the second a possible holy well with St. Margaret’s Well. In this final instalment I explore what might be the less likeliest of holy wells but certainly not the less interesting.
The most intriguing nomenclature wise is not terribly picturesque or noted in its history is a dip in Carshalton Park. Often dry, the name Hogpit Pond is interesting. It was first mentioned in the 15th century as Hoggpytte, and is certainly springfed. James Rattue in his Holy Wells of Surrey notes that such sites are often indicative of holy wells. The hog being derived from Old English halig for holy and the pit similarly being an old word for a well or spring. It does appear to have an entry or exit lined by stones. Sadly no legends or traditions are associated with the site to give any indication.
A more significant site is the Scawen Grotto also found in the park. The grotto once had a statue of Neptune with a marble sea shell basin and was decorated with flint, glass, shells and coral. Although the construction only dates from 1724 it utilised the spring which once provided the source for the river Wandle, a river possibly sacred to the Romans. Flow channels brick lined can be seen under the grotto and to the side.
The next two sites, are located in the grounds of Carshalton House. One of these is an ornamented spring head called the Springhead. This is first recorded on the Arundel Castle Map of the mid-Seventeenth century although clearly it is older. The present structure may either originate from Sir John Fellowes estate improvements of 1716 and the work of landscape architect Charles Bridgeman or the 1690s-1700s work of Edward Carleton or even Dr Radcliffe who purchased it after Carleton. It is recorded that both Radcliffe and Fellowes employed hydrologists being Captain Thomas Savery and George Devall respectively.
The springhead is made of a wide outer channel leading under the embankment into three narrower inner tunnels parallel in a westerly direction under the lawn and may have continued further, their function is unclear but they may have been involved with a waterfall which water cascading from the tunnels as seen in Chiswick house not that far away. The outer of these tunnels have a small bay set at right angles to the tunnel’s line. The ends are blocked with a mixture of clunch, stone, flint and brick walling. If Bridgeman was involved it is likely that he created a circular pool as a feature in front of the hermitage along with canals. These canals were removed in the mid 18th century and the current Roccoco style lake area was formed and it is possible that the outer tunnel was added as an extension to the original three tunnels bringing water into the air in front of the house and allowed visitors to walk over the spring head at almost water level to the hermitage. The similarity in the flint work of the sham bridge at the other end of the lake to the springhead supports this view. Over time the water table dropped and now the spring rarely fills the lake and in the summer it is mostly dry. The spring head was restored by the Carshalton Water tower trust in 2015.
The last site was fed by a unique spring fed water tower and is an 18th century bath house lined by deft tiles called a Bagnio. Enclosed with the water house it was erected by Sir John Fellowes by 1721. It was described in 1724 by a John Macky as ‘curious waterworks in Fellowes garden’. Little is known of this plunge pool and no reference is made by Rattue and its first mention is only in 1839. The building pumped water from a spring nearby into a lead tank in the tower which then fed the bath. The original engine was replaced many years ago and only partial remains of mid-19th century water wheel survive in the wheel pit which can be seen. The bath itself is sunk below a marble floor to a depth of 1.37m and is lined with plain tiles, it has a marble floor and is reached by marble steps. under which are hidden lead inflow and outflow pipes It measures an area of 3.28m by 2.58. How it was heated is unclear as no hot water system survives however it may have simply functioned as a cold bath. Now water is found in the bath and has not for some time it would appear. Its secrets and stories are yet to be discovered in a suburb full of fascinating water history.
Islands are of course uninhabitable without a good water supply and this was emphasised on Vanuatu in its creation myth according to John Paton in his 1890s Thirty years among the South Seas cannibals records that springs figure in the folklore concerning the origin of the islands. It is said that local god Matshiktshiki fished the islands out of the sea:
“And they show the deep print of his foot on the coral rocks opposite each island, whereupon he stood as he strained and lifting them up above the waters. Then he three his great fishing line round Futuna, thirty six miles distant, to draw it close to Aniwa and make them one land; but as he pulled, the line broke and he fell where his mark may still be seen upon the rocks, so the Islands remain separated to this day. Matshiktshiki placed men and women on Aniwa. On the southern end of the island, there was a beautiful spring and a fresh-water river, with rich lands all around for plantations. But the people would not do what M wanted them so he got angry, and split the richer part of Aniwa, with the spring and river and sailed with hem across to Aneityum…To this day the river is called ‘the water of Aniwa’ by the inhabitants of both islands; and it is the ambition of all Aniwans to visit Aneityum and drink of that spring and river as they sign to each other: Alas for the waters of Aniwa
Being a geothermal area hot springs are found on the island One such is the hot spring at Efate called the Takara springs. These arise in channels which are stone lined with beautiful blue clear water with some algal growth filling a large communal pool. It is thought that the water mixes with salt water giving the waters an unusual property. However it is when the water flows into the mud pools that it is thought to be particularly efficacious. Here the watery mud is applied to the skin and then after being washed off it is thought that it has the powers to rejuvenate the skin. The locals believe it has considering healing. However, these healing springs have a dark past too. John Paton in his 1890s Thirty years among the South Seas cannibals records:
“We retired to a Native house that had been temporarily granted to us for rest, and there pled before God for them all. The noise and the discharge of muskets gradually receded, as if the Inland people were retiring ; and towards evening the people around us returned to their villages. We were afterwards informed that five or six men had been shot dead ; that their bodies had been carried by the conquerors from the field of battle, and cooked and eaten that very night at a boiling spring near the head of the bay, less than a mile from the spot where my house was being built. We had also a more graphic illustration of the surroundings into which we had come, through Dr. Inglis s Aneityum boy, who accompanied us as cook. When our tea was wanted next morning, the boy could not be found. After a while of great anxiety on our part, he returned, saying, “Missi, this is a dark land. The people of this land do dark works. At the boiling spring they have cooked and feasted upon the slain. They have washed the blood into the water ; they have bathed there, polluting everything. I cannot get pure water to make your tea. What shall I do?”
One wonders if those wallowing in its healthy waters know they could have had another fate there?
I am (slowly) working through researching the Holy and healing wells of the county of Bedfordshire, a county which has never been covered in considerable detail in the topic, although Elliot Steele’s 1922 Bygone water supplies of Bedfordshire is a very good start.
Many years ago in the 1980s when I first got into the subject enlightened and enthused with Sacred Waters I aimed to try and find holy wells locally to where I lived and Bedford was a possible place. I had read brief record of a holy well associated with a medieval bridge in Bromham on the outskirts. However, I could find no more information that this but I did locate the bridge, but the OS map did not reveal a well or spring.
Stopping at one side of the bridge I was amazed to see a small gate, with 18 steps which went down to an arched well head beneath the bridge. This was a rare survival, a Holy Well that arose at the base of a medieval bridge was possibly unique despite a number being recorded in old documents. Sadly, the modernisation of these bridges over time had meant this wells were either filled in or replaced by pumps. However, here it survived.
Why was the well here? The bridge is first mentioned in 1224 when parish records show that 4 shillings was spent on repairs During the 14th and 15th Centuries a toll was collected from anyone crossing. The bridge also included a Chantry Chapel dedicated to St Mary and St Katherine and this was probably associated with the well. It is recorded that it was constructed for the ‘safety of travellers who were in danger from thieves’. The chapel survived until the Reformation in the sixteenth century which spared the well. However the question is was the well there before the chapel or did it capitalise on the popularity of the spring. . The well itself is little recorded but was frequented by those seeking cures although more recently was used as a water supply for the village. The current bridge, now 26 arches, was built in 1813 and unlike other rebuilds respected the spring which was there. The Bromham walk guide notes that the steps and stone arch were built when the road was widened in 1902. It records that:
“As late as the 1950s the well was easily accessed and often photographed but today it’s overgrown and easy to miss! Although at first glance there’s not much to see, its a good example of how a small feature in the landscape can tell a bigger story of the history and geography of our landscapes.”
The site on the drive to Bromham mill is long overdue a tidy up and repairing as can be seen by the photos taken in the 1980s and in 2018.
Two mineral springs are recorded in the parish one near Webb Lane and another in Grange Lane the later having a stone-arched head and formerly had steps from the road; its water had a depth of seven feet. Steele (1922) notes that it is now enclosed on private land and I have been unable to locate whether it has survived.
What has survived is the Grove spring. arises in a small wood bearing its name. It is enclosed in a stone arch and fills a channel. Until 2005 the well was ruined and was restored. It is to be said have had curative properties and was cleared in 1872/8 by Lord Hampden for healing fresh wounds.
It is said that the water was once much sought after for its purity and was fetched with ‘bucket and yoke’ by the villagers. Tradition has it that the water of Grove Spring in Bromham Park has healing powers for sore eyes and sprains. It was derelict for a number of years and was restored appearing similar to that shown in Steele Elliott’s photo as can be seen in the 2018. Each year in September in a festival associated with the church candles are lit around the well which is one of the days access through the wood to it is allowed.
In celebration of the stirling work done by the London Springs, wells and water ways Facebook group and the Fellowship of the Springs I’d thought I would explore Hampstead. Extracted and revised from Holy Wells and Healing springs of Middlesex
In the Georgian period Hampstead was one of the playgrounds of a growing London Its clean air and open spaces was a major draw for the London society and a major addition was its waters, although compared to others their life was short.
Hampstead Wells a chalybeate water compared to Tunbridge Wells. Its water was bottled and sent to an Apothecary at the Eagle and Child in Fleet Street, although as Stanley Foord (1910) in his work Springs, Streams, and Spas of London notes the expense and difficulty of transport meant that this attempt of exploiting the spring was not very successful. The water was extracted from the head spring or pond, called Bath Pond. This was a rectangular piece of water 40 feet wide and 20 feet deep, but filled in the 1880s.
Despite the lack of success, in 1701 John Duffield erected buildings to exploit the mineral spring, which were later on the east side of Wells Walk. Finally an Assembly Room and the Pump room were established on Well Walk. Springs, Streams, and Spas of London notes that:
“The Assembly or Ball Room, built by Duffield, was of large dimensions, measuring 36 feet by 90 feet, of which a length of 30 feet seems to have been divided by a partition from the other, and known as the Pump Room; the two rooms being thus under one roof, and situated near where the entrance to Gainsborough Gardens now is.”
Furthermore, the Green Man tavern (renamed Wells tavern in 1849-50), a Chapel called Sion Chapel and gardens and bowling green were established. On the site of the Pump Room is a new red-brick house called Wellside, built in 1892, according was established. A number of medical experts gave evidence towards the springs’ efficacy. A Dr. Gibbons states that it was ‘not inferior to any of our chalybeate springs, and coming very near to Pyrmont in quality’ and he himself took the waters until his death in 1725. Dr. Soame a noted 18th century physician published a book ‘Hampstead Wells, or Directions for drinking the Waters’, calling the spring “the Inexhaustible Fountain of Health’ yet the wells were in decline. Finally, in 1802, an analysis of the water was made by Royal college of Surgeons member, John Bliss who wrote in Medical Review and Magazine (Vol. VI.) that the water:
“have been found very beneficial in chronic diseases, &c., and where there is general debility of the system.”
In 1804 Thomas Goodwin, a local surgeon discovered another medicinal spring, called New Spa at the south-east extremity of the Heath, near Pond Street describing his findings in ‘An Account of the Neutral Saline Waters recently discovered at Hampstead’. Stating the water had sulphate of magnesia, that the waters were like that of Cheltenham’s saline spa. Its exact location according to Foord (1910) is unclear but he believes it is where Hampstead Heath Train Station now stands, although Mr. Goodwin marks it farther north.
The Long Room, 90 feet by 36 feet wide, with 30 feet used as a pump-room, was converted in 1725 into a chapel being called Well Walk Chapel and being used until 1861-62, when the Rifle Volunteers (3rd Middlesex), hired the chapel for a drill hall, and during the refit basins and pipes were found in the north end being where visitors to the Spa, were supplied with water. Analyses of the Hampstead chalybeate water have been made over the years, Soame in 1734 describes it as having a taste of vitriol of iron and Monro (1770) a Treatise on Mineral Spring states it is a transient Chalybeate lighter than New River water that had been boiled, but heavier than distilled water. By 1870, water from Well Walks spring and that from the fountain on Well mark, on the west side near no 17, noted it was a chalybeate spring mixed with surface water, possibly because the original source was diverted. In around 1885 the public basin on the east side of Well Walk was removed and a new stone drinking fountain was placed by the Wells Charity on the opposite side. In Foord’s time the water could still be drunk, although a sign was on the structure warning against this. Although C.A. White (1910) Sweet Hampstead and its associations noted that in the 1850s:
“it was quite common for working men from Camden and Kentish Towns, and places much farther off, to make a Sunday morning’s pilgrimage to Hampstead to drink the water, and carry home bottles of it as a specific for hepatic complaints and as a tonic and eye-wash.”
Sadly the well is now dry and despite an attempt to connect to the mains no water is accessible at the well.
The only surviving chalybeate spring in Hampstead is Goddison’s Fountain found can be found by following the path downhill from the east side of Kenwood House outside of the house grounds. The fountain is found on the left just as a pond appears on the right. The present structure was built in 1929 as a monument to Henry Goddison who was one of the main campaigners involved in saving the Heath and Kenwood estate for the public. There is no evidence that the spring was exploited before this but it was likely. It certainly is now and it is common to see walkers slake their first there and others collect water in demijohns.
At Kenwood House there is a brick and domed Bath House, it is easily found at the steps leading to the café. This was erected in the early 18th Century, it is believed by the Mansfield family, when they bought the house in 1754. Records show that they ordered marble fittings, purple tiles and oyster shells to decorate the niches. They probably bathed weekly or monthly. A sign on the inside of the door reads:
“The Cold Bath – The Cold Bath is fed by a natural spring of chalybeate water. It was built in the early 18th century when cold plunge bathing became fashionable and was considered a healthy pursuit. The Bath was neglected for many years, and had filed up with silt by the 1980s, when excavation work started. The marble linings had been stripped out and the sides were caving in. Enough evidence was found in excavation to reconstruct the marble lined bath. The dome was restored, and the walls re-plastered. The painted finish is speculative, based on the decorative schemes popular around 1800.”
It is designed as a plunge pool, being ovoid in shape with steps descending into the water at either side of the doorway. It resembles the structure, albeit smaller, of Birley Spa, near Sheffield (see Holy Wells and Healing springs of Derbyshire). The interior walls follow the ovoid shape and have three narrow niches set into the plaster work presumable arranged for statues. The bath water is supplied by a very copious chalybeate spring and is currently very full, but where this drains to is unclear. The site was derelict restored in the 1990s with the bath being full of debris.
Finally it is worth noting that there is a modern house called ‘Lady Well’ it may record a lost holy well but there is no evidence by a modern house name.
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]
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.
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”
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.
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!