The Holy Stones of Glossop

July 14, 2026 Tim Campbell-Green1 Comment

What ho! lovely people, What Ho!

I know it’s a stereotype that we Brits moan about the weather, whatever the weather, but seriously… why is it so ridiculously hot? It can stop being over 30 degrees any time it would like to… soon, ideally.

Anyway, enough of the moaning – it won’t make any sense in 6 months time anyway (and by which time we shall be complaining about being too cold!)! instead, let’s look at the subject of today’s article: holy stones (that is, stones with holes, rather than sacred rocks).

Briefly, years ago, I started to notice stones with a squarish hole carved into them. My first thought was that they were some sort of gatepost, but the hole seemed unusual, and I couldn’t work out quite how they would function. Ok, interesting, I thought.

This is the sort of thing I mean, this one is between Lees Hall and Herod Farm.

Characterised by the (mostly) single hole of a square-shape roughly carved into the upper part of the upright stone. In this area, they are of an undressed coarse gritstone, very much unlike the newer carved gateposts, which have a smoothly dressed surface – these are rough. They also looked older than any other gateposts, seemingly quite worn and in no particular shape, simply vertical and between 1 and 2 foot accross – they seem part of the landscape, grown organically, rather than imposed onto it and standing as markedly different, as the more modern gateposts do. In fact, so much so, that the first one I noticed properly I thought might actually have been a reused prehistoric standing stone.

But as I did some research into the medieval and post-medieval trackways, I began to notice that these stone were found along the older roads in the area, and often located at junctions in tracks, where they split, or at particular curves, and I began to think of the holed stones as being track markers, with the hole perhaps taking a piece of wood to act as a finger post?

I was wrong! They are definitely gateposts – the full explanation is explored here in this article, but basically a piece of wood was inserted into the hole, this then had two holes drilled into it, and then another piece of – green – wood was curved into the two holes making a loop, and it was into this that the gate was firmly fixed. This would explain, also, why the holes in the stones never face where you would expect the gate to be.

Being that sort of person, I plotted all the ones I know about (currently 26) on a map, and a surprising pattern emerged. They all seem to be clumped around early field systems – the ones with the long thin selions, and with evidence of ridge and furrow. These ‘fields’ had no need for walls and boundaries, they were part of the “open field system” in which land was communal, and allotted to individuals within the settlement on a rotating basis. So the concept of a stone gatepost was not needed here until about 1433, when the Talbot family took ownership of the Glossop estate from the monks at Basingwerk. The Talbots, shrewd businessmen, understood that not much money could be made from peasants growing subsistence crops, so instead changed the local economy to sheep farming – the peasants got paid, the Talbots made money from the wool. Of course, sheep wander off, so we start to see walls appearing at this time (you also need to keep the sheep of the small crops you are growing). Which leads me to my working hypothesis: I wonder if these gateposts are the first ones that appear after the mid 15th century, as the fields are increasingly enclosed? Certainly in his 1815 book, General View of the Agriculture and Minerals of Derbyshire, John Farey notes that “Anciently, the Gates in the Peak Hundreds were formed and hung without any iron-work“, and proceeds to describe the holed stones in use as gateposts. That he uses the term “anciently” suggests great age.

This got me further thinking… if the gateposts are associated with medieval fields, might they not tell us where these fields were situated, assuming we don’t know? I don’t know the answer to that, but watch this space for more research.

However, I want to share with you a small field trip I did (in association with Lee, of the Punk Archaeology Podcast) to collect some data on these holed gateposts. A sample of them around the Whitfield Field System was explored, and I thought you might be interested in the results.

This is the map of the posts – the blue arrows mark each one, with its name:

You can see the field system – the long thin ‘reverse-S’ shaped fields throughout the middle, but it is clearer on this 1890 map as the area has not yet been built up:

Everything on either side of Cliffe Road,, and below the word Glossop, as well as all kinds of stuff east of there. It’s a jumble, which is, in all honesty, probably how Jumble Farm got its name! Honestly, this part of the medieval field system in Whitfield is not talked about very much, and it needs to better known.

So then, what did we see on each of these points? Well, 10 of these stones with square holes. We measured the holes with the idea that if they all had broadly the same size hole, then they might be of a similar age/date/construction – I’ll put the size under each photo (in inches, not cm… it seemed more appropriate, and whilst the farmer making the hole wouldn’t be measuring strictly, he would have an idea in his head of the ‘right’ size the hole needed to be). I’m also giving the ‘What 3 Words’ location to each of the stones – I kno wit’s a bit gimmicky, but the idea of being able to enter 3 words into a free app, and be able to get the location down to 1m square is truly bean-altering. I’m not sponsored by them (I wish!), but I honestly believe W3W is a great tool… providing you have a phone signal!

Whitfield 1 (W3W – seagull / birdcage / pausing, Hole = 4″ x4″) – on Hague Street. Squat and chunky, it stands where it has stood for a few centuries at least, right on the road – the main road between Glossop and Hayfield in the medieval period – and right on a property boundary.

Just behind it is Whitfield 2. This one on private property, and given its proximity to Whitfield 1, we suspect it might have been moved, but who knows.

Whitfield 2 (W3W – seagull / birdcage / pausing, Hole = 4.5″ x 4″) – Whitfield 1 can just be seen in the bottom right, so you can see how close it is. Does this mean it has been moved? Well no, and given that it stands at about the same height, perhaps it was part of a complex system of gates that controlled access? I don’t know… you decide!

The next one is difficult to spot – right in the middle of a field, away from any paths, but not hidden from the prying eyes of binoculars:

Whitfield 3 (W3W – powering / assets / flooding, Hole = No Data, as I couldn’t get near it) – The dark standing stone is pretty much dead centre of this photograph.

Previously I had asked Master CG if he could see if it had a hole in it – I explained that my eyes can’t see from that distance… he replied yes, it did have a hole, and then muttered something about “ancient” presumably referring to the stone, and “put in a home“… which I didn’t fully understand.

Next up we have this somewhat disguised beauty:

Whitfield 4 (W3W – acoustics / martini / pocket, Hole = 3″ wide x 4″ tall) – still used as a modified gatepost, now taking a steel gate rather than a wooden oddly constructed affair. I like this, it shows continuity of use, and of the continued need of a gate into a field that remained in the same location for centuries.

The other side also reveals another surprise – an Ordnance Survey benchmark, although this one does not appear on any map I have seen – it is a lost benchmark without a height above sea level. I wonder if it was carved, but the height was either not recorded, or somehow was unreadable, and it was never resurveyed.

Whitfield 4 again, the OS benchmark is at the base of the stone.

Moving on, along this line, we come to what I have named Carrhouse 1, as it actually sits on Carrhouse Lane:

Carrhouse 1 (W3W – whisker / deform / nibbles, Hole = 5″ x 5″). I love this photo; Shire Hill in the background, and the view over the Shirebrook Estate puts this in its modern landscape. You can also see my tape measure on the wall, just used to measure the hole.

This is being used as a stile/gate, but the other stone, opposite it, is its mirror – same height and rough shape – only it doesn’t have a hole in it. Odd, but I feel the two must be connected, somehow.

On we go, along this path a short distance, across two fields, and over the stile there, immediately on the floor at the left, and lying face up, is Whitfield 5:

Whitfield 5 (W3W – tanks / falters / animates, Hole = 5″ x 5″). The square hole with rounded corners is in the centre of the photograph, with grass growing out of it. I’d love to dig this up and set it upright once again… it deserves more.

Clearly it had been broken at some stage in its history – the upper part of the holed bit has sheered off – and the farmer has replaced it with a stile… but the hole is still visible.

Back the way we came, and left along Carrhouse Lane, on the right we soon come to a hugely overgrown gateway, and nestled against the newer gatepost is:

Carrhouse Lane 2 (W3W – majors / creamed / swam, Hole = No Data. The entrance is buried by about 3 metres of blackberry!). I have been close enough to this one to put my hand into the hole, so it is real, despite the awful photograph. I shall try again in winter, and update the article.

I shall get a better shot of this one, I promise, but you can just about make out the dark area that is the hole in the short post.

A little further on, on the left, is this pair of beauties:

The post on the left has two holes in it, and is a bit of an anomaly, although there are other examples of multiple holes around the area. It has actually been split at the upper part of it, the result of a farmer sometime in the Victorian period drilling a hole to take an iron pintle, and cracking the rock.

Carrhouse 3 (W3W – goad / tidal / bigger, Holes: upper = 3.5″ x 4″, lower = 3.5″ x 4″). Lovely.

The other side of the gateway confused me at first, though: there was no hole… or so I thought. Looking more closely, it seems that the hole has been cemented up, possibly to prevent or repair a crack?

Carrhouse 4 (W3W – goad / tidal / bigger, Hole = 4″ x 4″). Although, I looked, I couldn’t see that the upper part of the cement was covering a hole – I think it was whoever did it filling in some gaps? I shall double check, of course, next time I’m passing.

Finally, walking on the path toward Jumble Farm, we find this one, shorter than most, just before you get into the farmyard:

Jumble Farm 1 (W3W – reclined / monk / swept, Hole = 4″ x 5″). It original function here is replaced by large Victorian carved gateposts.

Well there we are – a small selection of holed stones on a quick walk around Whitfield, and all associated with the Whitfield Medieval Field System. I’m not saying it proves my hypothesis, but they are all clearly of the same age, with the same size hole, and same rough shaping – we just need to identify that age. And I would argue the late medieval period (post-1450). More research is definitely needed – I have 26 holed stones that I know about – they’re all in a map that I’ll share with you below, and you can go and look at them yourselves – each one is marked by a blue arrow.

However, there are doubtless 100s more out there, lurking, hidden… lost. And that is where you come in. Please, do me a favour… if you know of any, or after reading this notice some in the Glossop(ish) area, please let me know – send me a photo, a dropped pin in Google maps, a What 3 Words, an email telling me where it is… anything. But let me know, as I think there is more here to be uncovered regarding land use and field systems in the medieval and post-medieval periods. Exciting, and I want you all to share in this, so go forth and do some research that might help us.

The map is here, just click on the link: Map of Holed Stones

Stay in touch!

Right, that’s all folks for this time. My thanks to Lee of the Punk Archaeology Podcast (first episode is coming soon) for the help in exploring this group of stones.

By an amazing coincidence, holed stones also feature in the latest Where/When, available in the usual places (alright, Dark Peak Books), but also directly from me (link here), and I can post it to you.

Archaeology · Bench Marks · History · Where / When

Mench Barks

March 24, 2026 Tim Campbell-Green3 Comments

No, fear not, dear and gentle reader, I have not had some sort of ‘attack’, or a fit of the vapours, or conniptions, or a melancholic fever, nor indeed some form of ‘brain disorder’ resulting in a sharp dose of the ‘lah-lah-lahs’ (despite what some of you may think). I am tickety-boo; hunky dory; cock-a-hoop; and all is, in fact, distinctly oojah-cum-spiff… I am perfectly normal. Honestly, and all shall be revealed, so stick around.

What ho, wonderful folk, what ho! Spring is upon us: I have seen sweet blessed blossom on trees, and daffodils. Oh, daffodils! Now, if it can just stop raining for a minute or two, I might actually dance. But enough of this frivolity, let us look at some bench marks! Stop that moaning, you at the back… it’s unbecoming of a gentleman.

If you have spent any time on this website you will know that have covered Ordnance Survey bench marks before. Several times, in fact. And will also know that I love them with a passion. What on earth do you mean “obsessed” – I have an interest, that’s all. I can handle it. It’s not like I approach strangers and tell them all about benchmarks. Often. Well, not since the rather nasty court case and the restraining orders. Anyway, let’s move on. Swiftly.

For those of you who don’t know (but dash it all, you should know), an Ordnance Survey benchmark is a mark carved onto a building or other immovable object that marks out a specific height above sea level. They are most often found as an arrow with a line above it:

The ‘broad arrow’ denoting British military ownership – Royal Ordnance – with a line on top.

And here is one in real life – this one being precisely 682ft above sea level.

They are the remains of the original, and subsequent, surveys made by the Ordnance Survey in the 1840, allowing engineers and surveyors to record the whole country by height and distance. A remarkable feat, when you think about it: with each mark being intervisible with another, they are a literal network of heights, which, whilst visible in plain sight, is nonetheless overlooked or simply not known about by 99% of the population. I first encountered them whilst working as an archaeologist in the Oxford area where we used them to provide a height for the sites we were working on – essentially using an old fashioned level and ranging rod, we leapfrogged from the benchmark on a church to our site about a mile away, as this was the nearest benchmark, and we were working in the middle of nowhere! Benchmarks are marked on older OS maps, and they are found in their hundreds of thousands all over the country.

The system is no longer maintained, sadly, and they are falling into disrepair, but are much loved by nerds such as myself, who become, against their better judgement – and ignoring vague threats of divorce – Benchmark Baggers.

Now, occasionally, mistakes happen. The Ordnance Survey is very – painfully – good at what it does, but the people it serves – us – are not. Benchmarks go missing, or are moved, and sometimes too they are marked on buildings, but seem to have not been marked on maps. That is what this post is about – the anomalies and the oddities, not so much a benchmark… more a menchbark.

We start with Fieldhead Farm, Whitfield. The farm building itself has a benchmark, but nearby is a gatepost with a clearly carved benchmark on it; proudly stating the height above sea level of… we don’t know! It’s here on the map:

The Beehive pub is circled in red, for reference, but the benchmark is marked by the red dot.

There’s the mark, but the OS have never marked it on any map I’ve ever seen. And I don’t believe it has been moved from anywhere, either – that’s a solid piece of gatepost! Interestingly, it does replace a smaller square-holed medieval/post-medieval post. This is a very curious part of Whitfield that has a greater history than we currently understand – even the name ‘Fieldhead’ may suggest medieval origins.

Nearby, on Derbyshire Level is this lovely example:

This one was originally in the wall of the garden of Lane Ends Farm, Derbyshire Level. It still is in the wall, but the wall has been rebuilt fairly recently, and whilst it originally marked a height of exactly 705ft above sea level, and has been replaced in roughly the same place (amazing work, whoever did that), Jove alone knows what it marks now!

However, at least the people who rebuilt the wall understood that the benchmark had a purpose… and a right way up. Whoever rebuilt this wall in Hadfield – under the disused railway just by the start of the Longdendale Trail – had no idea what to do with it, so the benchmark was replaced upside down:

I mean to say… given that benchmarks for me represent an unmoving, permanent and fixed, point in a chaotic world (and mind), the sight of this inverted mark is literally turning my world upside down… and quite frankly gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Here, on the southernmost of a pair of paths between Hague Street and Charlestown Road (and discussed in this article), we see that sometimes the mark is moved, probably due to some form of destruction or movement. So in 1898, the mark is on an object to the south of the path (a gatepost that is no longer visible, perhaps):

At some stage, the mark is rendered useless, and by 1968 it’s moved to the north side, and carved onto a gatepost, itself no longer used:

Next up, we have Flatt Farm, on Cliffe Road, Whitfield. The original benchmark is here:

To the left of the building’s gable end. It is ridiculously low to the ground, with only the flat top showing – the result of the ground level having risen about 1ft.

As a result, a later benchmark was cut into the right-hand side of the gable end:

A lot has changed by 1969… including the benchmark location

Worn and faded, it is there in the centre of the photograph.

The ‘new’ carving was poor by comparison, and has faded quickly, a symptom, perhaps; by 1969, the whole system was falling into disuse, and benchmarks no longer were marked on OS maps as a general rule. Sad, but there you go. Of course, now we don’t use them at all due to GPS, etc. But I honestly think there is something grounding and wonderful about them.

Anyway, whilst researching the latest Where/When (No.9), I discovered this wonderful specimen: potentially an abandoned attempt at a benchmark:

It’s at the right height – 1ft off the ground – and on the right sort of immovable object – a gatepost -and it would be in a perfect place for one, but it seems that during the carving process, a mistake was made – the stone may have crumbled, or a careless stroke was made, and the whole was abandoned. I might be wrong, of course, but that is what it looks like to me. You can have a look yourselves, here:

Facing the track to Far Slack farm, it’s the left hand gatepost (alos, right next to a rather spiffing holed gatepost, now lying on it’s side). The mark is also right by Robin Hood’s Picking Rods – a pair of 10th Century Anglo-Saxon Stone Cross shafts, and coincidentally, the stars of the latest Where/When – see below. Definitely worth checking out.

We’ll end on that most rare thing… a feral benchmark. Escaped from who knows where, it lurks, in a recumbent posture, and mocking all attempts at identification, just by Pikes Farm at the end of Pikes Lane. It’s been dumped from somewhere… but Jove knows where!

It was once on an upright gatepost, but is made from a non-local stone, so may have been brought from a distance. I contacted the OS, and they have no knowledge. A welcome visitor in our town, found here:

Left hand side of the track, just after Pikes Farm.

So there we go… interesting stuff. Well I like it, and I hope some of you like it too. Not you, Mr Shouty-Outy, we know, not you.

If you’re interested in benchmark bagging, I have recently begun using a phone app called TrigFindAR to help me find them. It has an almost complete map and database of benchmarks across the whole country, and allows you to tick them off as you find them (make them go from red to green) and to get onto the database kept at bench-marks.org.uk and look at that particular benchmark. I’m not sponsored – sadly – but it is truly a superb bit of kit, and is totally free; I cannot recommend it enough for you geeky types out there.

Elsewhere, the new edition of Where/When is out!

It’s an exploration of Cown Edge, Coombes Edge, medieval, prehistoric, and Roman archaeology, and a journey from The Beehive (Whitfield) to The Hare and Hounds (Simmondley). Essentially a guided walk around some really cool old stuff that starts and ends at a pub… what’s not to love. Think of it as a paper form of this website, but involving footpaths and loads to explore.

Available for £6.50 from the Where/When link above, or through the amazing Dark Peak Books and Gifts on High Street West, Glossop. Or just stop me and buy one!

Right, I’m off. I’m tired, grumpy, and am due a glass of the stuff that cheers any moment now. More soon, I promise, but until then, look after yourselves and each other. Please. We are all important, even if we don’t feel it sometimes. And until the next time, I remain.

Your humble servant,

TCG