I know several Leicester people who are very interested in trying to trace out in the district some of its ancient trackways—by trackways I do not mean Roman roads, or tracks along which Saxons, Danes, or Normans marched to their conquests, but the paths followed by the earlier races who, for want of a better term, we call ancient Britons. There is no doubt that they, like their successors in the land, made journeys—made journeys before there were finger-posts, or even “made”’ roads. How did they find their way Some very interesting research work is going on, work which is well illustrated by a book which has just been lent to me.
It was sent to me because there was in it a slight reference to “cold-harbours” (which I had been discussing here), but, with the loaner’s permission, I propose to let the cold-harbour reference slide, so that I may give more space to the general question of “Early British Trackways,” because, although the work has mainly to do with Herefordshire and the Wye Valley, I feel sure that much excellent support for the theories set up can be found in our own district—indeed support has already been mentioned to me privately, in another connection.
The main theory of the author, Mr. Alfred Watkins, is that when there were no roads and no enclosures of land, a man who wished to travel always strove to make a bee-line from important landmark to important landmark, and that where landmarks were insufficient to keep him on a straight track, he made landmarks of his own, in the form of mounds, sighting stones, earth cuttings, etc. If, he says, lines are drawn to join together any two of these on a map, it will nearly always be found that the line produced will pass through other mounds, moats, churches (built usually in prominent topographical positions), cuttings, etc., and that there will be a hill or peak at one end of the line. If the line is explored, it will nearly always disclose “bits of old track and antiquarian objects on the line.”
Now it has been more than once shown that there is an alignment about many of the mounds, fixed stones, and other topographical antiquities of Leicestershire—the best known being the line which joins the Humber stone with the St. John Stone, in a line which is said to follow the direction of sunrise on Midsummer Day. Here is very interesting work for local archæological exploration—work which even a tyro might attempt. Let him get a series of large scale ordnance maps, stick pins in all the mounds, tumuli, barrows, knolls, churches, castles (these latter as indications of eminences, and then join them up with lines. If he finds an alignment which suggests a trackway, let him then explore it in situ—for ancient relics.
The author of the book which has turned my attention to this subject brings place-names to help him in the establishment of his theory, and though his etymology is not always convincing, it is worth noting, because it may help in the solution of some alignment problems that may arise in our own district. He suggests, for instance, that the sighting lines which the early tribes marked out were called “leys,” and he gives illustrative support by showing “Leys” in lines (Wyaston Leys, Monmouth Ley, Tumpey Ley, Red Ley, Redley, and so forth). This suggests locally that Leicester may not be Leire-cester, the camp on the Soar, but Ley-cester, the camp on the Ley (sighting line).
Where a place-name ending with “ton” falls on a sighting line (a ley), Mr. Watkins thinks that it may be an
abbreviation of “stone,” and that a sighting stone may have existed there. “Hunger,” in a place
name, the writer suggests, is an indication of a cutting through a bank. How does this fit in with our own Hungerton.
The subject strikes me as one which should be thoroughly investigated, and one in which investigation might bring forth
some striking results.
X.
Source info: Cuttings agency.