The Iron Age Settlement at Warbreck: Part Two

(For the first part of this posting, check out last week’s articles via the archives.)

Before we go any further, perhaps a word or two about the road system surrounding Warbreck might be in order. Below is a thumbnail (click on it to open up the larger version) for the 1840 Ordnance Survey map, showing the original layout of Warbreck’s roads overlaid on a modern day map so that, hopefully, you can get your bearings. (Incidentally, check out Mario Maps if you’re into overlaying maps of different time periods…there’s a link up in the sidebar.)

Because it might seem a bit confusing at first glance, we’ve coloured the original road system in red.

Now here’s the thing…the two roads leading from the southeast and the northeast into Knowle Farm (now long since demolished) are intriguingly familiar in the way in which they climb the hill before looping into the buildings. The Iron Age track surrounding Bourne Hill acts in much the same fashion, as does the equally ancient track surrounding the Iron Age farm at Fair Oak, Chipping. We can only assume that these roads were constructed for defensive purposes.
We’ve managed to trace (albeit filling in a few missing gaps along the way) the southeast road to Hoo Hill cemetery in Layton. It was here, during extension work, that a cobbled road, generally thought to be Roman, was discovered.

According, once again, to Reverend Bulpit: “Mr. Wray, at the Cemetery, has a remarkable stone hammer which formed part of a path below the surface level.” Alongside the hammer, also recorded by Bulpit, was: “…a curious stone ball”.

The latter of these objects is, predictably, lost, but probably formed half of a simple quern. The hammer can be found (if you ask very politely) in a locked room at the back of the Grundy Art Gallery. The photograph below was the best we could manage with our camera.

Objects such as these were often incorporated into Iron Age roads -- possibly for ritual purposes, possibly because the road builders just couldn’t be bothered carrying any more pebbles from the beach. Whatever the reason, the age of the artefacts tends to suggest that our roadway leading from Layton Cemetery to the top of Knowle Hill dates from the Iron Age.
The road to the northeast is even more intriguing.
After heading downhill past the former Greenland’s School (now Bispham High School) this ancient route swings around the base of Knowle Hill and heads off southeast. Before long, close to Higher Moor Farm, it sinks into a hollow way, as can be seen in the photograph below.

Most hollow ways were constructed by the Celts and later used for drove roads by the Saxons. To add weight to the idea that the hollow way at Higher Moor Farm was Celtic built rather than of Saxon construction (because, after all, the Saxons did, from time to time, build their own sunken roads) at Carleton railway crossing, where the track emerges, Catherine Rothwell’s 1986 book ‘Early Carleton’ records the discovery of a “…Bronze Age axe or palstave dug up…on land which once was near Scut House.”
We’ve illustrated the palstave below. Although we’re not certain of it’s exact location when discovered, it certainly counts as evidence for the track’s antiquity.

So, two ancient trackways leading to a suspiciously flat section on the summit of Knowle Hill. But again we appear to be running short of space so, one last break and we’ll conclude this article (you’ll probably be glad to hear) next week.

Most Haunted at Mains (Part Four)

It's midweek posting time again, which can only mean the last thrilling instalment of 'Most Haunted at Mains Hall'. (I can hear the cheers going up around the Fylde as I type.) The last few minutes (i.e. the summing up bit...although it's probably best for the viewers to sum it up for themselves) are missing; current whereabouts unknown (so count yourselves lucky).

Regular viewers to this board might be interested to know that we've recently tracked down 'Most Haunted at Pendle Hill', featuring the legendary Derek Acorah and his classic 'Mother Demdyke' impression/possession. Let us know if you want us to post it here and we'll do our best to accomodate. In the meantime, let the ghosties and ghoulies ensue...

The Iron Age Settlement at Warbreck: Part One

(This posting turned out to be slightly longer than we’d originally anticipated and has, therefore, been divided into three parts. Apologies for any interruptions in advance.)

The view from the rock gardens on the summit of Knowle Hill at Warbreck, as anybody who’s ever stood there and gazed out towards the Pennines would agree, is unsurpassed along the Fylde Coast. The Irish Sea, the River Wyre and the Fleetwood Peninsula are all clearly visible at once, making this the perfect choice for an Iron Age fort.
Warbreck’s name was first mentioned in a document of 1279 where it was recorded as ‘Warthbreck’. That’s a Norse word, of course, the ‘breck’ part referring to the hill itself, and the ‘Warth’…well, that’s where different people have their own interpretations. Most historians believe that the ‘Warth’ refers to a beacon. We think differently.
Knowle Hill’s original name was Beryl Hill, recorded by William Thornber as having a cairn on its summit that was used in the 1760s to warn of invasion by Napoleon Bonaparte. Interestingly Lord Burleigh’s map of 1590 records the location of all the beacons in the area. Preesall Hill, for example, is shown with a crude but very obvious beacon. Beryl Hill, however, doesn’t sport any such drawing, which is odd, don’t you think?
We’ve reproduced Burleigh’s map below, such as it is. (Burleigh wasn’t much of a cartographer it must be said.) As always, just click on the thumbnail for the larger version.

The cairn, of course, has now long since gone, but the idea that it was originally a beacon seems to have no real foundation. It’s possible, of course, that by the 1760s (Napoleon’s time) a beacon had been erected on Beryl Hill, but if that were the case then it wasn’t included on contemporary maps, and the idea that Beryl Hill’s name is a corruption of ‘Beacon Hill’ is a bit of a hard pill to swallow.
Here’s our suggestion; Beryl Hill is actually a local dialect corruption of ‘Burial Hill’, the land beneath the water tower having once been a pagan burial ground. ‘Warbreck’, we’d also like to suggest, signifies a guard post or watchtower, rather than a beacon. The Norse word ‘Varth’ (pronounced Warth as in the 1297 spelling of ‘Warthbreck’) actually refers to ‘being on one’s guard’, the slightly longer noun ‘Varther’ being specifically a cairn used as a guard post.
Whilst the flattest section of the summit of Knowle Hill does afford incredible views of Fleetwood, the Wyre and Bispham cliffs, the view towards Blackpool is less accommodating and, anybody building an Iron Age settlement there would have required a lookout post slightly further to the south.
This description of the hill is provided by William Thornber in his ‘History of Blackpool and its neighbourhood’ before the housing estates now blocking the view came into existence: “If the visitor be desirous of viewing the country at one glance, let him accompany me along the north bank of the sea to Beryl hill, near Warbreck. Here, mounted on a lofty speculum, he will have a delightful prospect of the Welsh hills, Blackpool and all the places before mentioned.”
In other words, all the places that the view from the slightly less elevated, but considerably flatter, part of the hill to the north doesn’t encompass.

Above is a photograph of the water tower under construction. Whether the workman discovered any ancient watchtowers or burials there or not, we couldn’t honestly say, but they probably wouldn’t have mentioned them if they had.
Okay, so let’s see if we can justify our reasoning behind Beryl Hill’s original name being ‘Burial Hill’. If, and it’s a big “IF” we admit, Knowle Hill once housed an Iron Age settlement then a burial ground somewhere close by would also have been required.
We’ve already mentioned that Warbreck’s name is of Norse origin. And it’s a well-established fact (or at least it ought to be, because we’ve been harping on about it for long enough) that when the Norse and the Celts took up residence together (as they frequently did around the Fylde and Wyre) invariably a keeill would spring up to service their spiritual needs. So what we need here is some sort of evidence for a keeill on the top of Beryl Hill, keeills, more often than not, being erected on Pagan burial grounds.
Let’s return to Reverend Bulpit and this quote from his ‘Notes on the Fylde’: “Warbrecke was the Beacon Hill, and Knowl was the Hill. Tidacre was the Titheacre, and a tithe barn, with a boggart legend, once stood there.”
In our experience, boggarts always tie in with the locations of keeills. Take Boggart’s Yate (originally ‘Boggart’s Gate’) near Hambleton, for example, hard by Kilbreck (otherwise translated as the ‘keeill on the hill’) or the ‘Boggart Field’ at Stanah, close by, and connected to via an ancient track, Kelbreck field (again the ‘keeill on the hill’).
There are numerous other examples of such correlations between keeills and boggarts around the Fylde, so the suggestion that a keeill once stood in the area haunted by the Tidacre boggart can’t be overlooked.
By way of confirmation, let’s turn once more to Reverend Bulpit: “I went to Leys, at Warbricke, searching for a Cross which the Poulton Register tells stood there as late as 1620. I did not find it, but at the farmhouse were several inscribed stones, and on the keystone of an arch I found an open hand sculptured, having four fingers extended, but no thumb was delineated. A similar cutting exists at Halsall Church, at the apex of the sacrarum, and tradition says there is a holy relic behind it.”
Leys, incidentally, was the farmhouse standing just behind the water tower. From Bulpit’s description it appears that an ancient church, very possibly a keeill, once existed there.

(We haven’t finished yet by a long chalk. Part two will be posted here next week.)

Most Haunted at Mains (Part Three)

Time for another midweek posting, which basically means the third part of 'Most Haunted at Mains Hall'. (Don't worry...there's only one more segment to go. After that we'll need to track down the missing five minutes at the end of the programme...although, to be honest, we probably won't bother.)

Incidentally, as regular viewers of Most Haunted (working on the assumption that such people exist) will be aware, the programme doesn't usually censor itself for swear words. (After all, that's part of the fun, watching Yvette Fielding spewing forth a torrent of expletives in panic.) And, to be honest, as historians who realise the importance of 'warts and all history', neither do we. However, I can only assume that You Tube (those great moral guardians of the Internet) have different ideas, so please don't blame us for all the inappropriate bleeps.

Anyhow, here's part three...murdered monks and all. (To be honest we'd read somewhere that they'd died of the plague, but who are we to argue with the psychics?)