The high road from Rochester
to Maidstone presents several of those rich and varied prospects which so
often in England compensate the traveller for the absence of the grander
elements of picturesque beauty. Here, indeed, are no mountains shrouded
in mist or tipped with partial sunlight; but the bold ridges of chalk
are the boundaries of valleys whose fertility displays itself in wood and
pasture, in corn-lands and scattered villages. If we look to the north,
the broad Medway expands like a vast lake, with an amphitheatre of town
and hill-fort, which tell at one and the same time the history of the
different warfare of ancient strength and of modern science. When we
have ascended the highest point of the ridge, we again see the Medway,
an attenuated stream, winding amidst low banks for many a mile. The
hill of chalk is of a sufficient height to wear an aspect of sterility;
it has some of the bleak features of a mountain-land. The road lies
close under the brow of
the hill, with a gentle slope to the village
of Aylesford—an historical village. Not far from the point where
the Aylesford road intersects the high road is the remarkable monument
called Kit’s Coty House (Fig. 36). Unlike most monuments of the same high
antiquity, it remains, in all probability, as originally constructed. It
was described two hundred and fifty years ago by the antiquary Stow,
and the description is as nearly exact as any that we could write at
the present hour: “I have myself, in company with divers worshipful and
learned gentlemen, beheld it in anno 1590, and it is of four flat stones,
one of them standing upright in the middle of two others, inclosing the
edge sides of the first, and the fourth laid flat across the other three,
and is of such height that men may stand on either side the middle stone
in time of storm or tempest, safe from wind and rain, being defended with
the breadth of the stones, having one at their backs, one on either side,
and the fourth over their heads.” In one point the description of Stow
does not agree with what we find at the present day: “About a coit’s
cast from this monument lieth another great stone, much part thereof in
the ground, as fallen down where the same had been affixed.” This stone
was half buried in 1773, when Mr. Colebrooke described the monument; it
is now wholly covered up. The demand of a few square feet for the growth
of corn, in a country with millions of acres of waste land, would not
permit its preservation. Is this Kit’s Coty House something different from
other ancient monuments, either in its site or its structure? Let us see
how Camden, writing at the same period as Stow, describes an erection in
Caermarthenshire, in the parish of Trelech: “We find a vast rude chech,
or flat stone, somewhat of an oval form, about three yards in length,
five foot over where broadest, and about ten or twelve inches thick. A
gentleman, to satisfy my curiosity, having employed some labourers to
search under it, found it, after removing much stone, to be the covering
of such a barbarous monument as we call Kist-vaen, or Stone-chest; which
was about four foot and a half in length, and about three foot broad,
but somewhat narrower at the east than west end. It is made up of seven
stones, viz., the covering stone, already mentioned, and two side stones,
one at each end, and one behind each of these, for the better securing
or bolstering of them; all equally rude, and about the same thickness,
the two last excepted, which are considerably thicker.” The dimensions
of Kit’s Coty House are thus given in Grose’s ‘Antiquities:’ “Upright
stone on the N. or N. W. side, eight feet high, eight feet broad, two feet
thick; estimated weight, eight tons and a half. Upright stone on the S. or
S. E. side, eight feet high, seven and a half feet broad, two feet thick;
estimated weight, eight tons. Upright stone between these, very irregular;
medium dimensions, five feet high, five feet broad, fourteen inches
thick; estimated weight, about two tons. Upper stone, very irregular,
eleven feet long, eight feet broad, two feet thick; estimated weight,
about ten tons seven cwt.” Holland, the first translator of Camden’s
‘Britannia,’ gives a description of Kit’s Coty House, which includes
his notion, which was also that of Camden, of the original purpose of
this monument. “Catigern, honoured with a stately and solemn funeral,
is thought to have been interred near unto Aylesford, where, under the
side of a hill, I saw four huge, rude, hard stones erected, two for
the sides, one transversal in the middest between them, and the hugest
of all, piled and laid over them in manner of the British monument
which is called Stonehenge, but not so artificially with mortice and
tenants.” The tradition to which Holland refers is, that a great battle
was fought at Aylesford, between the Britons commanded by Catigern, the
brother of Vortimer, and the Saxon invaders under Hengist and Horsa:
in this battle the Saxons were routed, but Catigern fell. An earlier
writer than Holland, Lambarde, in his ‘Perambulation of Kent,’ 1570,
also describes this monument in the parish of Aylesford as the tomb
of Catigern; “The Britons nevertheless in the mean space followed
their victory (as I said) and returning from the chace, erected to the
memory of Catigern (as I suppose) that monument of four huge and hard
stones, which are yet standing in this parish, pitched upright in the
ground, covered after the manner of Stonage (that famous sepulchre
of the Britons upon Salisbury Plain) and now termed of the common
people here Citscotehouse.” Antiquaries have puzzled themselves
about the name of this Kentish monument. Kit, according to Grose,
is an abbreviation of Catigern, and Coty is Coity, coit being a name
for a large flat stone; so that Kit’s Coty House is Catigern’s House
built with coits. Lambarde expressly says, “now termed of the common
people here Citscotehouse.” The familiar name has clearly no more to
do with the ancient object of the monument than many other common names
applied to edifices belonging to the same remote period. No one thinks,
for example, that the name of ‘Long Meg and her daughters,’ of which we
have spoken, can be traced back even to the Saxon period. The theory of
the earlier antiquaries that the monuments which we now generally call
Druidical belong to a period of British history after the Christian era,
and commemorate great battles with the Saxons or the Danes, is set at
rest by the existence of similar monuments in distant parts of the world;
proving pretty satisfactorily that they all had a common origin in some
form of religious worship that was widely diffused amongst races of men
whose civil history is shrouded in almost utter darkness. Palestine has
its houses of coits as well as England. The following description is from
the travels of Captains Irby and Mangles: “On the banks of the Jordan, at
the foot of the mountain, we observed some very singular, interesting, and
certainly very ancient tombs, composed of great rough stones, resembling
what is called Kit’s Coty House in Kent. They are built of two long side
stones, with one at each end, and a small door in front, mostly facing
the north: this door was of stone. All were of rough stones, apparently
not hewn, but found in flat fragments, many of which are seen about the
spot in huge flakes. Over the whole was laid an immense flat piece,
projecting both at the sides and ends. What rendered these tombs the
more remarkable was, that the interior was not long enough for a body,
being only five feet. This is occasioned by both the front and back
stones being considerably within the ends of the side ones. There are
about twenty-seven of these tombs, very irregularly situated.” These
accomplished travellers call these Oriental monuments tombs, but their
interior dimensions would seem to contradict this notion. The cause
of these narrow dimensions is clearly pointed out; the front and back
stones are considerably within the ends of the side ones. Kit’s Coty
House (Figs. 37, 38) has no stone that we can call a front stone; it
is open; but the back stone has the same peculiarity as the Palestine
monuments; it is placed considerably within the side ones. The side
stones lean inwards against the back stone; whilst the large flat stone
at top, finding its own level on the irregular surfaces, holds them all
firmly together, without the mortice and tenon which are required by
the nicer adjustment of the superincumbent stone upon two uprights at
Stonehenge. It is evident that the mode of construction thus employed
has preserved these stones in their due places for many centuries. The
question then arises, for what purpose was so substantial an edifice
erected, having a common character with many other monuments in this
country, and not without a striking resemblance to others in a land
with which the ancient Britons can scarcely be supposed to have held
any intercourse? It is maintained that such buildings, called cromlechs,
were erected for the fearful purpose of human sacrifice. “For here we
find in truth a great stone scaffold raised just high enough for such
a horrid exhibition and no higher: and just large enough in all its
proportions for the purpose, and not too large, and so contrived as to
render the whole visible to the greatest multitude of people; whilst it
was so framed and put together, though superstitiously constructed only
of unhewn stones in imitation of purer and more primeval usages, that
no length of time nor any common efforts of violence could destroy it or
throw it down.” This is King’s description of what he believes to have
been the terrible use of Kit’s Coty House. The situation of this monument
certainly renders it peculiarly fitted for any imposing solemnity, to
be performed amidst a great surrounding multitude. But it does appear
to us that a stone scaffold, so construicted, was of all forms the most
unfitted for the sacrifice of a living victim, to be accomplished by the
violence of surrounding priests. Diodorus says of the Druids of Gaul,
“Pouring out a libation upon a man as a victim, they smite him with
a sword upon the breast in the part near the diaphragm, and on his
falling who has been thus smitten, both from the manner of his falling
and from the convulsions of his limbs, and still more from the manner
of the flowing of his blood, they presage what will come to pass.” King
accommodates Kit’s Coty House to this description; arguing that the top
of the flat stone was a fitting place for these terrible ceremonies. The
notion seems somewhat absurd; the extreme dimensions of the top stone are
not more than eleven feet in any direction; a size in itself unsuited
enough for such a display of physical force. But this narrow stone is
also shelving; it is about nine feet from the ground in front, and seven
feet at the back, having a fall of two feet in eleven feet. King says,
“And yet the declivity is not such as to occasion the least danger
of any slipping or sliding off.” The plain reader may possibly ask,
what at any rate is to prevent the victim falling off when he receives
the fatal blow; and wonder how the presage described by Diodorus is to
be collected from the manner of his falling, when he must infallibly
slide down at the instant of his fall. We must in truth receive the
Roman accounts of the sacrificial practices of the ancient Druids
with some suspicion.
Civilized communities
There are remains of the more ancient times of Britain whose uses no antiquarian writers have attempted, by the aid of tradition or imagination, satisfactorily to explain. They are, to a certain extent, works of art; they exhibit evidences of design; but it would appear as if the art worked as an adjunct to nature. The object of the great Druidical monuments, speaking generally, without reference to their superstitious uses, was to impress the mind with something like a feeling of the infinite, by the erection of works of such large proportions that in these after ages we still feel that they are sublime, without paying respect to the associations which once surrounded them. So it would appear that those who once governed the popular mind sought to impart a more than natural grandeur to some grand work of nature, by connecting it with some effort of ingenuity which was under the direction of their rude science. Such are the remains which have been called Tolmen; a Tolman being explained to be an immense mass of rock placed aloft on two subjacent rocks which admit of a free passage between them. Such is the remarkable remain in the parish of Constantine in Cornwall. “It is one vast egg-like stone thirty-three feet in length, eighteen feet in width, and fourteen feet and a half in thickness, placed on the points of two natural rocks, so that a man may creep under it.” (Fig. 41.) There appears to be little doubt that this is a work of art, as far as regards the placing of the huge mass (which is held to weigh seven hundred and fifty tons), upon the points of its natural supporters. If the Constantine Tolman be a work of art, it furnishes a most remarkable example of the skill which the early inhabitants of England had attained in the application of some great power, such as the lever, to the aid of man’s co-operative strength. But there are some remains which have the appearance of works of art, which are, probably, nothing but irregular products of nature,—masses of stone thrown on a plane surface by some great convulsion, and wrought into fantastic shapes by agencies of dripping water and driving wind, which in the course of ages work as effectually in the changes of bodies as the chisel and the hammer. Such is probably the extraordinary pile of granite in Cornwall called the Cheesewring, a mass of eight stones rising to the height of thirty-two feet, whose name is derived from the form of an ancient cheese-press (Fig. 47). It is held, however, that some art may have been employed in clearing the base from circumjacent stones. Such is also a remarkable pile upon a lofty range called the Kilmarth Rocks, which is twenty-eight feet in height, and overhangs more than twelve feet towards the north (Fig. 46). The group of stones at Festiniog in Merionethshire, called Hugh Lloyd’s pulpit (Fig. 48), is also a natural production. But there are other remains which the antiquaries call Logan, or Rocking-stones, in the construction of which some art appears decidedly to have been exercised. Cornwall is remarkable for these rocking-stones. Whether they were the productions of art, or wholly of nature, the ancient writers seem to have been impressed with a due sense of the wonder which attached to such curiosities. Pliny tells of a rock near Harpasa which might be moved with a finger (placed no doubt in a particular position) but would not stir with a thrust of the whole body. Ptolemy, with an expression in the highest degree poetical, speaks of the Gygonian rock, which might be stirred with the stalk of an asphodel, but could not be removed by any force. There is a rock-ing-stone in Pembrokeshire, which is described in Gibson’s edition of Camden’s ‘Britannia,’ from a manuscript account by Mr. Owen: “This shaking stone may be seen on a sea-cliff within half a mile of St. David’s. It is so vast that I presume it may exceed the draught of an hundred oxen, and it is altogether rude and unpolished. The occasion of the name (Y maen sigl, or the Rocking-stone) is for that being mounted upon divers other stones about a yard in height it is so equally poised that a man may shake it with one finger so that five or six men sitting on it shall perceive themselves moved thereby.” There is a stone of this sort at Golcar Hill, near Halifax in Yorkshire, which mainly lost its rocking power through the labours of some masons, who wanting to discover the principle by which so large a weight was made so easily to move, hewed and hacked at it until they destroyed its equilibrium. In the same manner the soldiers in the civil wars rendered the rocking-stone of Pembrokeshire immoveable after Mr. Owen had described it; but their object was not quite so laudable as that of the masons, who sought to discover the mystery of the stone of Golcar Hill. The soldiers upset its equipoise upon the same principle that they broke painted glass and destroyed monumental brasses; they held that it was an encouragement to superstition. In the same way the soldiers of Cromwell threw down a famous stone called Men-amber, in the parish of Sithney, in Cornwall, which a little child might move; and it is recorded that the destruction required immense labour and pains. Some few years ago one of these famous rocking-stones, on the coast of Cornwall, was upset by a ship’s crew for a freak of their officers; but the people, who had a just veneration for their antiquities, insisted upon the rocking-stone being restored to its place; it was restored; but the trouble and expense were so serious, that the disturbers went away with a due sense of the skill of those who had first poised these mighty masses, as if to assert the permanency of their art, and to show that all that is gone before us is not wholly barbarous. It is a curious fact that the tackle which was used for the restoration of this rock-ing-stone, and which was applied by military engineers, broke under the weight of the mass which our rude forefathers had set up. The rocking-stones which are found throughout the country are too numerous here to be particularly described. They are in many places distinctly surrounded by Druidical remains, and have been considered as adjuncts to the system of divination by which the priesthood maintained their influence over the people.
In various parts of England, in Wales, in Ireland, and in the Western Islands of Scotland, there are found large single stones, firmly fixed in the earth, which have remained in their places from time immemorial, and which are generally regarded with some sort of reverence, if not superstition, by the people who live near them. They are in all likelihood monuments which were erected in memory of some remarkable event, or of some eminent person. They have survived their uses. Written memorials alone shine with a faint light through the darkness of early ages. The associations that once made these memorials of stone solemn things no longer surround them. When Jack Cade struck his sword upon London Stone, the act was meant to give a solemn assurance to the people of his rude fidelity. The stone still stands; and we now look upon it simply with curiosity, as one of the few remains of Roman London. Some hold that it had “a more ancient and peculiar designation than that of having been a Roman Milliary, even if it ever were used for that purpose afterwards. It was fixed deep in the ground; and is mentioned so early as the time of Æthelstan, king of the West Saxons, without any particular reference to its having been considered as a Roman Milliary stone.” (King.) If this stone, which few indeed of the busy throngs of Cannon-street cast a look upon, were only a boundary stone, such stones were held as sacred things even in the times of the patriarchs: “And Laban said to Jacob, Behold this heap, and behold this pillar, which I have cast betwixt me and thee; this heap be witness, and this pillar be witness, that I will not pass over this heap to thee, and that thou shalt not pass over this heap and this pillar unto me, for harm.” (Genesis, c. xxxi., v. 51, 52.) In the parish of Sancred, in Cornwall, is a remarkable stone called the Hare Stone (hare or hoar meaning literally border or boundary), with a heap of stones lying around it (Fig. 44). It is held that these stones are precisely similar to the heap and the pillar which were collected and set up at the covenant between Jacob and Laban, recorded in the scriptures with such interesting minuteness. It is stated by Rowland, the author of ‘Mona Antiqua,’ that wherever there are heaps of stones of great apparent antiquity, stone pillars are also found near them. This is probably too strong an assertion; but the existence of such memorials, which King says, “are, like the pyramids of Egypt, records of the highest antiquity in a dead language,” compared with the clear descriptions of them in the sacred writings, leaves little doubt of the universality of the principle which led to their erection. A heap of stones and a single pillar was not, however, the only form of these stones of memorial. At Trelech, in Monmouthshire, are three remarkable stones, one of which is fourteen feet above the ground, and which evidently formed no part of any Druidical circle. These are called Harold’s Stones (Fig. 43). Near Boroughbridge, in Yorkshire, are some remarkable stones of a similar character, called the Devil’s Arrows. The magnitude of these stones of memorial was probably sometimes regulated by the importance of the event which they were intended to celebrate; but their sacred character in many cases did not depend upon their size, and their form is sometimes unsuited to the notion that they were boundary-stones, or even monumental pillars. The celebrated stone which now forms the seat of the coronation chair of the sovereigns of England is a flat stone, nearly square. It formerly stood in Argyleshire, according to Buchanan; who also says that King Kenneth, in the ninth century, transferred it to Scone, and enclosed it in a wooden chair. The monkish tradition was, that it was the identical stone which formed Jacob’s pillow. The more credible legend of Scotland is, that it was the ancient inauguration-stone of the kings of Ireland. “This fatal stone was said to have been brought from Ireland by Fergus, the son of Eric, who led the Dalriads to the shores of Argyleshire. Its virtues are preserved in the celebrated leonine verse:—
Ni fallat fatum, Scoti, quocunque locatum
Invenient lapidem, regnare tenentur ibidem.
Which may be rendered thus:—
“Unless the Fates are faithless found,
And Prophet’s voice be vain,
Where’er this monument be found
The Scottish race shall reign.”
Sir Walter Scott, in his graceful style, gives us this version of his country’s legend. The stone, as the youngest reader of English history knows, was removed to Westminster from Scone by Edward I.; and here it remains, as an old antiquarian has described it, “the ancientest respected monument in the world; for, although some others may be more antient as to duration, yet thus superstitiously regarded are they not.” (Fig. 45.) The antiquity of this stone is undoubted, however it may be questioned whether it be the same stone on which the ancient kings of Ireland were inaugurated on the hill of Tara. This tradition is a little shaken by the fact that stone of the same quality is not uncommon in Scotland. The history of its removal from Scone by Edward I. admits of no doubt. A record exists of the expenses attending its removal; and this is the best evidence of the reverence which attached to this rude seat of the ancient kings of Scotland, who standing on it in the sight of assembled thousands, had sworn to reverence the laws, and to do justice to the people. *
* The Coronation Chair, the seat of which rests upon this stone of destiny, is also represented in the illuminated engraving which accompanies this portion of our work. It is a fac-simile of a highly finished architectural drawing, and is printed in oil colours from twelve separate plates, so united in the printing as to produce a perfect outline, and to give all the various tints of the original.