The Flints which find their way to the surface of the land are beautiful and varied but nevertheless quite small. The few larger stones which are found around Norfolk are mostly glacial erratics. Due to their relative rarity, such stones are considered remarkable and are rich in history, often having been meeting places where significant decisions were taken. Unsurprisingly, they have much magical lore associated with them and retain considerable power, which can be drawn upon for magical purposes. This sometimes involves spells but is more often a means of developing our understanding of unwritten history. After all, the memory of stones is deeper and denser than the Mercurial gifts of pen and ink of of the whispered word. The sonorous voices of these stones have a language of their own, unfettered by grammar and vocabulary. They "speak’ to one another across the landscape, maintaining, not only their ancient kinship, but also an intricate pattern of silent power lines. The following examples represent just a small selection. There are more which can be sought out.
This stone is to be found on Swaffham Heath, about 150 yards from the B1122 road to Downham Market. It stands at a truly liminal spot, marking a hundred boundary, as well as those of the parishes of Swaffham, Marham and Narborough. Part of the Icknield Way, marked as Peddersty or Saltersty, and the East-West Fincham Drove, which is a Roman road, pass very close to it (Clarke and Clarke, 1937). Its magic draws together the footsteps of the many who have trodden these paths and lived and died in the surrounding parishes.
The origin of the stone's name has a number of possibilities. Ben Ripper (1979) suggests it is named after Cow Hill, or a corruption of coal, since the stone once guided pilgrims to a beacon hill near Colkirk (Coalchurch). The stone used to be situated in a field nearby, where workers sat on it to eat their dinner. However, in the 1980s, it was moved by two local historians, Ben Ripper and Peter Howling, as it was considered to be at risk of damage from ploughing. The move seems not to have disrupted its energy in any way, perhaps because it was conducted with respect and honourable intentions. It has a warm, welcoming lenergy, one which encourages the seeker to both broaden and deepen their quest for knowledge, not just of stones, but of all aspect of the magic of the land.
The Merton Stone, nestled in a shallow marl pit, just off the Peddars Way near the boundary of the parishes of Merton and Threxton, is thought to weigh between twenty and thirty tons and to be the largest glacial erratic in the United Kingdom.
Some people say that to stand on it is a chilling experience, where the presence of malevolent spirits can be felt. However, on a warm, sunny day it is more likely to be a very pleasant, and indeed healing experience. It is well known that, continuing a centuries-old tradition, young ladies wishing to fall pregnant still sit on the stone and find its magic effective. The plants around it, especially the Mugwort, seem to derive extra energy from their proximity to such a powerful character.
There is a long-held local belief that, if the stone is removed, the waters will rise and cover the entire Earth (Clarke and Clarke, 1937). Moving the stone was apparently attempted by the 5th Lord of Walsingham, one of the ancient de Grey family. He assembled all the local men and women, together with much beer and many ropes, but the failed attempt ended in an "erotic debauch". Another attempt to move it, in the 1930s or 40s, this time using a large rotary plough, was equally unsuccessful (Burgess, 2005b), although I have been unable to find out whether this ended the same way as the previous escapade.
The Stockton Stone currently stands on the raised grass verge of a lay-by on the A146, between Beccles and Norwich, just outside the village of Stockton itself. This lichen-covered, sandstone glacial erratic weighs several tons and is said by some to have been an ancient track marker. According to Michael Clarke, it marks the old meeting place of the Clavering hundred, possibly the place where the 10th century Danegeld was paid, although Geldeston, near Beccles, might be a more likely candidate, given its name.
Like the Merton Stone, the Stockton Stone has a curse upon it that anyone who moves it will fall victim to terrible misfortune or death. Much to the consternation of many local people, it was indeed moved, in the 1930s, to accommodate the widening of the road. Not surprisingly. one of the workmen involved collapsed and died.
In spite of its unfortunate location, so close to a very busy road, this stone retains an amazingly powerful energy and people still leave small offerings there. While paying our respects recently, a group of us found a rather attractive blue stone egg, which looked as if it had not been there for very long. Moved by the moment and by the atmosphere, one of our party suggested that we should hold hands and dance around the stone three times, which we duly did, much to the amusement of passing motorists!
This is another erratic brought to us by the glaciers of the Ice Age. There are many local tales surrounding this mysterious Stone, which is said to bleed if pricked with a pin. Some claim the blood is that of victims from a time when the stone was used as a sacrificial altar, while others are of the opinion that it is the blood of those who fell during a ferocious battle between King Edmund and the Danes. Others tell of treasure hidden beneath it and how the landowner has never been able to move the stone to unearth the spoils (Burgess, 2005a).
The grove in which the stone stands, almost hidden beside the path, does have a rather unnerving feel to it. One can "see" all too easily soldiers struggling up the steep escarpment and the bodies of the slain sprawled on the bank to the other side of the path. Rod Chapman informs me that, not so very many years ago, some of the children of the village had to walk through the grove, past the stone, in order to get to school and, in the winter, these children were allowed to leave school early so that they could walk through before it was dark. This is completely understandable. On climbing out of the hollow to the fields above, the atmosphere suddenly changes completely. There is almost a sense of relief and a feeling that one no longer needs to speak in hushed whispers.
There is a recent tale of a brave, tough, yet inexperienced witch who was determined to camp out for a night by the stone, in order to become better acquainted with the ghosts and spirits of the place. He pitched his tent right near the stone and was confident that he would have an interesting and informative night's vigil. However, he became so frightened by the eerie sounds and the terrifying atmosphere that he was forced to run from the place and ring a fellow practitioner to come with their car and rescue him! The stone does look something like a Dragon and has a hole in it just where the eye would be, which is deep enough for an adult to insert their entire arm. Quite a few people I know have done this and come to no harm, although it is not a pleasant experience.
Not far from the grove, in the middle of a field, are the ruins of a nunnery known as St. Edmund's Chapel, which was said to have been built to honour those who died in the battle.
It has been suggested that Blood's Dale, between Drayton and Hellesdon, on the slopes leading down to the River Wensum, where the Danes are also said to have fought the Anglo-Saxons, may have been the site of King Edmund's death in 896 CE. Abbo of Fleury (870 CE) tells us that King Edmund died at Hellesdon, and Joe Mason (2018) argues convincingly, that the unusual number of churches dedicated to St. Edmund along this stretch of the River Wensum is significant. The survivors, having found the King's severed head with the help of the Wolf, could have taken his body upstream to Lyng, to the aforementioned chapel. Although not fully excavated, some pottery dating from the time of King Edmund, has been found there. Furthermore, an old tithe map refers to the Grove as King's Grove and a map published in the Eastern Daily Press in 1939, names the Great Stone as King Edmund's Stone. Perhaps this would have been a suitable burial place for the miracle-working king? (Mason, 2018) Some of us would like to think so. Certainly, the Ash keys collected from a tree growing on the ruins of the nunnery are particularly effective in assisting those who wish to speak with spirits of the dead.
Not all our standing stones are ancient, and just as exciting are those being erected now for the benefit of ourselves and of future generations. Aldeby, in South East Norfolk, is a wonderful such example. Here, seven standing stones have been carved with runes and with Christian symbols, and placed around the parish boundary as part of a Millennium project, known as "Pathways in Stone". The runes spell out the name of the village but are also related to the powers of the stones themselves. The Stone of Dawn, for example, features the Day Rune (dagaz) and a Medieval symbol of the World and the four Elements, while the Stone of Wisdom has the God Rune (ansuz) and the square and circle symbol for the material and spiritual worlds. One stone, the Stone of Destiny, combines all the symbols found on the outlying stones, with the addition of the othel rune, symbolizing ancestral land and heritage. The stones are carboniferous limestone, so had to be brought in especially for the project, but in spite of having been in place for a relatively short time, some of them are already giving off some very interesting energy.
These stones form a pilgrimage walk around the village and are best seen in the Winter when they are not obscured by vegetation.
The Druid Stone of St. Andrew's
When Ray Loveday pointed out to me his "Druid Stone", at the North-east corner of St. Andrew's Church, in the centre of Norwich, I was astounded that I had walked down St. Andrew's Hill so many times, admiring the cleverly-knapped Flint of the church wall, without noticing this stone. It is another of those magical items which are hiding in plain sight, but once the attention is drawn to it, the remarkable ancient power it holds becomes apparent. This stone, at least what can be seen of it above ground, is not large, and has a fairly flat top with a number of circular indentations which are often filled with' water, and work well as scrying pools. Ray is unsure whether they are a natural feature, were deliberately carved out or have developed over centuries as a result of water dripping from the church roof. There are several smaller, less well-rounded dips too, which tend to get rather muddy. The stone, which has a very feminine feel to it, welcomes small, discrete offerings, such as a ring of twisted Periwinkle stems or a little Daisy chain; nothing too elaborate or containing any artificial materials. It certainly deserves respect and attention, as it appears to form part of the magical foundation of the city.”
Chapter 2: ‘Sacred Places: Stories Within the Landscape’,
