Stonehenge and Salisbury Town

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May 21st 2005
Bayswater, London, England.

Today I was up at the crack of dawn and off on a £15 bus tour to see Stonehenge and the nearby town of Salisbury. The bus was pretty awful, with very tiny seats and no legroom. People who know me are cognizant of the fact that I'm not anywhere near approaching tall, yet even I couldn’t fit my legs into the space between my seat and the one in front. It was also booked out, so there was no room to be had with an empty seat to the side, either. But, hey, you get what you pay for. Happily, that is where the day's negatives ended.

The legendary Stonehenge, set high on a field on the Salisbury Plains, really is pretty darned awesome. The initial site was actually begun 5,050 years ago, in around 3050BC, so it's incredibly old, though the stones weren't brought in until about a thousand years after that. Initially it was a large man-made circular ditch and bank, or otherwise known as a ‘henge’. I can't begin to imagine the purpose of that. Surely there were wooden structures or something of significance, which were later removed, or perhaps decayed away into nothingness. I mean, seriously, why would anyone dig a big circular ditch and bank on a hill? I am certain that there must have been more to it than that, but with no proof the professionals on the subject seem reluctant to guess. So I guess that means it’s up to me to do the guessing for us both today, dear reader.

The second of the three construction phases occurred around 2600BC, with some wooden structures in the centre of the field. Archaeologists know about this for certain and were able to date it because of some wooden remnants they found during excavating and so forth, and if I remember correctly, from a few short posts or something which still exist aboveground.

The third stage involved implementing the famous stones themselves, and this was not done for another hundred years or so after the second stage. The third stage itself lasted almost 1,000 years, with the monuments constructed, arranged, and then re-arranged between 2500-1500BC. Talk about taking your time to get it just right. No, Angus, I think that one should be a little more to the left. Let's spend the next thirty years moving it.

Stonehenge itself is actually a very large series of concentric rings, with an altar stone at the centre (mm-hmm, that's right, 'altar stone'...is anybody whispering ‘ritual sacrifice’?), and several ever-enlarging circles of standing stones around it. (There are also more circles within the surrounding field and countryside - I'll go into that in a minute). My point, though, is that what I tend to remember from famous photos of the site is a single towering circle of enormous rectangular stones which look like archways because of the flatter stones sitting on them. Well, there's more to it than that. It's a bit hard to see from the path, and over the centuries some stones have fallen over or been stolen or chipped away for souvenirs (I suppose that's why the tourist path is so far away now), but enough of the original layout remains that they have been able to re-enact it:

Around the altar stone are the smallest of the stones (not sure of the name), set in a horseshoe, and around that is another horseshoe, this time of Sarsen Trilithons - two pillar stones with one stone on top. Around that is a circle of Bluestones, which are smaller than the Trilithons. Then comes the largest of the stones, the ones you tend to focus on, which is the circle of Sarsen Stones with their lintels (that's the stone on top which makes it look like an archway). Surrounding all of this is the circular henge (ditch and bank), as well as other singular, strategically placed stones. Some of these stones have rather interesting names, such as the "Slaughter Stone", a couple of "Station Stone"s and a "Heel Stone". Even further out, dotting the Salisbury countryside, are ancient burial mounds, like miniature hills or grass-covered 'cairns', and no doubt holding important chieftains or people of status.

So the whole site is actually circles within circles within circles...which was a very powerful symbol to the early Celtic people. To them the circle represented eternity and the path of the sun in the sky; it was of the same importance to them as a cross to a Christian (and infinitely less macabre). In fact, in 563AD (well after the completion of Stonehenge), in order to covert the Celts to Christianity, St. Columba combined many of the aspects of the two religions, including the two symbols, and from that time comes the famous Celtic cross with its circular apex. There are a few pictures of Celtic crosses in my journals, such as during the Edinburgh visit… The body of the Celtic cross also has the elaborate and beautiful knotwork of the Picts instead of the plain surface of the Christian cross. Personally, pretty though the Celtic cross may be, I can only see it as a way of tricking the Celts into slowly giving up their own heritage. Damned overbearing Christians - these stories make me so mad.

Anyway, back to Stonehenge. In reality, it's not anywhere near as large as I'd expected from the photos and legends - what ever is? -, with the tallest stone standing at about 6.7 metres high, and not seeming even that much from the path's distance away. But then, a full third of the stones' lengths are planted underground (like an iceberg) to keep them upright for so many thousands of years, and that obviously shortens them a bit. I guess the lazy bludgers did do their best, what with dragging the largest of the sarsen stones - a whopping 45 tonnes - at least thirty kilometres across the country from Marlborough Down. Not a bad feat considering that they were all heathens and minus a Mack truck or two.

Many of the stones have fallen over and lie out of sequence, blocking a closer view between the stones. I couldn't see anything resembling an altar stone, but then perhaps I did see it and just didn't recognise it as such. The larger stones around the perimeter have some crannies and nooks worn into them and birds have nested there. I think they were ravens. I was caught between amusement and an odd sense of it not being appropriate to allow birds to nest in centuries-old artifacts. Though I suppose erecting scarecrows around the perimeter might ruin the monument's impact more than the birds themselves do.

We were not allowed within about twenty metres of the actual stones, instead dutifully following the calf-high fence in a wide circle around the area. I would have liked to inspect it more closely, to peer in and be able to properly see the inner circles of stones, and try to gauge a feel of the place. Perhaps if I could have been closer, there would have been more of a sense of otherworldly magic, of awe. I have always supposed that if one were receptive enough, you could sense a special ‘energy’ in a place such as this. But after only about thirty minutes of taking photos and battling against the tourists, the wind and the rain, I became frostbitten and irritated, and hurried on to the end of the circuitous path without any further lingering. I'll have to return in the middle of summer, maybe with a pair of cheapie binoculars to spy out all the particulars of the inner circles. I might even make a dash over the fences for the Holy Land, braving security guards and voodoo magic for a taste of what all the excitement is for.

But sixth senses and Ouija boards aside, you cannot help but be impressed by Stonehenge in much the same way one is impressed with the pyramids. What an awesome task it must have been. The stone lintels (that's the linking stones sitting on top of the upright stones, making them look like archways) must be pretty darned heavy - I know that I would not have been volunteering to help get one up there. Ancient Stonehenge’s Volunteer Recruitment Days were probably a good time to be a helpless, feeble woman.

Prior to the frostbitten dummy spit, I’d stood for a while trying to work out how they had managed to get the huge big heavy lintel rocks up there, and whether any fell during the process. Apparently the top of the standing stones and the corresponding area on the lintels are carved to work like a jigsaw puzzle, so that they slot into place and stay that way. Which was clever of them, but still doesn't answer the question of how they maneuvered them up there. The lintels looked like they would require a fairly heavy-duty crane or two to do it in this day and age; the Ancient inhabitants had only man-power. I wondered just how many people might have died in some way directly related to the process of making these monuments... just as thousands of Egyptian slaves did, making the pyramids.

And then there is the big, glaring, unanswered question of Stonehenge: for what purpose, to what greater cause, was it constructed? Surely it must have had a pretty important significance to those early inhabitants for them to have spent so much time and energy creating it. This was no Aussie weekend bung-up renovation job. The making of this place spanned thousands of years and many lifetimes, many different generations of people with individual goals and aspirations. What united purpose linked them all to make this? Why is Stonehenge so much bigger, and more famous, than the many smaller stone circles dotting the British countryside? Is it meant to do something, stand for something (excuse the pun), be in remembrance of some event? Where is the ‘ON’ switch?

Theories on its purpose range from the spiritual to astrological to communicating with aliens from outer space, would you believe. The few certain and supposedly significant facts are fairly open to interpretation. Apparently it does correspond to certain astrological stars and planets and such forth, but that could be luck and interpretation. And it's supposedly positioned in such a way that the midsummer sun slants through the main arches to illuminate the altar with a grand and dazzling magnificence. Which would have been important to a people who were ruled by the changing seasons.

I personally think that the presence of an altar stone is a bit of a broad hint, myself - maybe it wasn't such a good time to be a woman, after all. Or at least not a virginal one. This might explain the tendency for women to get married at such young ages in the days of yore...heehee. But I prefer to believe that it was some indication of early man's understanding of astronomy and his fascination of the skies. Of the need to leave an impression upon the world which will endure beyond one's death. We seem to have spent so much of our energy looking at the sky and wondering. I'm an atheist, I'm undecided about aliens, and the idea of your personality being formed according to the alignment of the planets is insulting, but even I have my moments of wondering.

Okay, okay, more than enough about Stonehenge. I'm thoroughly exhausted and I'm sure you've all fallen asleep. I thought I should occasionally show some proof that I am not entirely ignorant - it's too hard to remember all the little tidbits about the places I visit and so I usually don't bother. But I suspect that I sound very shallow sometimes and so will attempt to give more background on comments from now on. Sigh...

So after Stonehenge we trundled off to see the town of Salisbury, and by now I'd made friends with an Aussie girl from Brisbane named Tina. The tour company did not actually provide much of an guide for us or anything, which was a rip-off; they just dropped us in Salisbury and told us to be back at the carpark in four hours. Yay. But Tina and I wandered about and thoroughly enjoying our foray into the town, all the while chatting away and learning something more of each other, so it turned out to quite a lovely little sojourn.

Our first stop was Salisbury Cathedral, which apparently has the tallest spire in England. I'm not usually a fan of churches and so forth, but this place was actually pretty interesting. They wanted a £4 donation, but since it was a 'donation' and I was broke, I boldly stepped up and said I wanted to contribute £1 and please could I have the £1 change from my £2 coin (well, it was all I had and they certainly weren't getting the whole £2). Heehee. I thought it was funny, and Tina seemed to as well. But later I gave in and spent the rest of the day tipping everybody and donating to Supermen begging for charities, just to make sure she didn't think I was tight-fisted. Which I most assuredly am, but it’s best to leave such revelations to later on in the acquaintance.

But back to the cathedral. It was enormous, with high vaulted ceilings and wide hallways. The Cathedral itself was originally built in 1220, in Early English Gothic style, with the Cloisters and Chapter House added in the middle of the thirteenth century or something. The ground plan of it is basically in the shape of a big cross, with hallways connecting the cathedral and the chapter house, and a lovely green garden between. There was also the usual lead-lighted windows and religious paraphernalia, including a preacher and congregation worshipping despite the wandering tourists.

The strange and interesting thing about this church, though, was the eclectic and not entirely religious additions which obviously drew the tourists but did not seem overly worshipful. For instance, the centre of the main hall had a water feature in the midst of its pews! Seriously! I've never heard of such a thing. The fountain did not seem particularly religious in shape or appearance, either. But it was quiet and likely would not interrupt sermons and if that's what they liked then good luck to them.

Salisbury Cathedral also houses what is possibly the oldest clock in the world (sundials aside), and certainly in England. It was a big, old contraption with ropes and pulleys that extend up to the ceiling and odd metal timbres clicking and clacking and revolving away. But while it seems to be ticking away the seconds in correct cadence, I could not for the life of me work out how it told you what the time was at any particular moment. It was like a very old science project whose student creator hadn't bother to label it for dumb schmucks like me.

Further along, there were decaying flags mounted from posts in the wall. I recognised the Union Jack, but they were all faded and rotting and even if they had not been I probably would not have recognised them. I liked the inclusion of them, though, and the remnants of its ancient heritage that the cathedral - and the town, for that matter - had managed to retain.

The weirdest thing, though, is that there are people buried beneath the floor and in the garden. I didn't know that that was the done thing, anywhere. Surely it's a bit macabre? The floor is very old, made of big flagstones ranging from about half a metre squared to about two metres, and many of them are coloured differently for what I assume are different stone origins and ages. The stones have engravings in them, things like "Jane Doe lies here, beloved wife, mother...." and so forth. Some engravings are so old that they have been worn away almost entirely by thousands of shuffling feet. You have to just walk straight over them because there's so many that you cannot help but step on them. And all the while you're thinking, there's a skeleton directly beneath me, right.....now, and…now.

Then there are the memorial tombs with sleeping statues of the person inside....or I assume that they're inside. Some such 'tombs' are actually memorial statues lying on presumably empty marble boxes, their subjects’ brave or worthy people who are not buried in Salisbury but are remember by her people. Then there are little gazebo-type altar-like dedications to deceased people.....on the whole, it's a large, eclectic assortment of memorials to the dead, lining the walls and floors and between the columns of the church. It all seemed a bit off-kilter, like it should be in a museum or some sort of history society, not a church. I mean, I don't know much about churches, but I thought that they were solely to worship God, not the dead, and in this one I had the suspicion that the lines had been blurred. Mind you, I'm not really complaining, as it was probably one of the most interesting churches I've ever been in. And since I wasn't about to worship there, I couldn't particularly care less. It just seemed strange, as the paraphernalia in churches are usually solely religious, images of crosses and Christ and all of that.

The Chapter House, separated from the main cathedral by a hallway or two, proclaims itself 'one of the most perfect achievements of Gothic architecture in England', and it is, indeed, very pretty. The floor plan is like a many-sided polygon, with the segregated walls sloping up to a single point in the middle of the ceiling. It's all white and cream and black edging. Apparently the style of the windows, which follows on into the cloister garden and can be seen in the attached photo, is 'geometric', but to me they look like cookie cutouts.

The Chapter House also boasts an elaborate medieval frieze with depictions from the bible's early books, scenes such as Adam and Eve and Noah's Ark and all of that. There are silk pillows on the inbuilt bench running around the length of the room, and on them are the elaborately embroidered names of apostles or saints or something. It was originally a meeting place of the Cathedral clergy, and the word 'chapter house' derives from the practice of reading a chapter of the bible at their meetings. All I can say is that I'm glad that these holy men have their priorities in order when it comes to spending the church's donations…?

What honestly interested me, though, is the exhibition of one of the four surviving original texts of Magna Carta, a famous agreement made between the king and some barons back in 1215. It's carefully preserved and housed behind glass, and is in incredible condition. It was really cool to see something so fragile survive for so long, and of course I could not go there and not have a peek at one of the oldest books in existence. You're not allowed to take photos, unfortunately, as the conditions under the glass (light, temperature, etc) have to remain constant. The interesting thing about the Magna Carta, though, is that the conditions within the case are not dry. No, to keep it in top condition it has to stay moist. I doubt that is the case for most ancient texts, but then, what would I know, I should probably look such things up before spouting off about them with a big fat know-it-all head. But you have no idea how long this damned blog is taking, and I'm tired, and I'm not changing it.

After the church visit we wandered about trying to find the Medieval Hall, but no luck. There were plenty of medieval houses and gateways and so forth, though, so we enjoyed that, and ended up stumbling across some weekend markets. We talked a lot and took photos and got chatted up by an adorable lout in a Spiderman costume who was pulling for donations to a children's charity. Later we relaxed with some drinks at a picnic table outside an old mill-cum-pub and had a bit of a giggle when one of the locals came down to fish in the little stream. There were swans by the dozen in the streams winding through the town and it was all very picturesque and lovely. I adored the gothic black-and-white houses with their uneven walls and roofs, and the town wall, whose gateway cut across between the houses of a main street with a fairy-tale old-fashioned charm. Apparently they close it at night, though much of the town lies outside its protection these days. I think we were both enchanted with the almost tangible age of the place, which cannot be found in man-made Australian monuments. This was what I came to England for: the age, the history, the dark deep secrets which have seeped into her walls and floors and earth and sky.

We ended up almost not making it back to the bus in time - who would have guessed it after a four-hour sojourn in such a wee town? I hadn't slept much the night before, and having seen the countryside on the way there, I settled in for a nap, only to find that we were back in London mere moments later. We hurriedly exchanged details and I think I could really like her as a long-term mate - but early days yet, and I'm still not sure I'm staying in London. I have no idea what I'm doing. But it was a lovely day, the bus seats aside, and I may well find myself back down there sometime during the summer - albeit in a rental car so I can stop and explore all the little old-fashioned English towns.

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Photos

Stonehenge
Picture taken from a shallow depression on the edge of the ditch/henge.

Map of Stonehenge
Picture is of Stonehenge during the winter, but you get the point, and since I paid for it I figure the copyright is forfeit.

Me at Stonehenge
Proof!

Salisbury Cathedral
Built between 1220 and 1258, with a spire of 123m, apparently the tallest in England.

Middle section of the church
The inside is simply too wide and high and, well, BIG, to fit in one photo. Here's the central of the three first parallell hallways, and notice the water feature in the middle, between the two tourists. A fountain inside a church? Who would have thought?

Mediaeval Clock
Possibly one of the first ever built....but don't ask me where the watch face is, because while it ticked and tocked as expected, I had no idea where to look for the showing of the time.

Gravestones
The Cathedral doubles as a graveyard! There are crypts and memorials and flagstone-cum-gravestones everywhere....the very floor we trod was peppered with "Jane Doe is buried here", some were so old that the writing had been worn away almost completely by centuries of feet shuffling across their surface. (Tina's feet, top left)

Cathedral's "Cloister Garth"
Image taken from of the Cloisters, of the garden-cum-graveyard. Had two lovely old towering trees in centre, can see part of one.