The return of UK’s ancient stones as a place of worship
On a gray November afternoon, a group of 19 Cornish residents gathered at the majestic medieval church of St. Paul, whose 32-metre granite spire dominates the skyline. They gathered in front of Buryan.
But their destination wasn’t inside the ancient walls, but a 3.2-mile walk to the mysterious Boscawen-Ûn stone circle.
Dressed in raincoats, reflective vests and waterproof boots, some clutching wooden staffs, the locals were led by astronomer Carolyn Kennett. Curious to observe how the rising moonlight could uniquely illuminate the lone, taller quartz stone of the circle, he had organized the expedition specifically for the full moon of November 5th.
“That would be a really nice thing to see,” he told the group, pointing to the cloudy sky. “Hopefully we’ll have to dream about it, but you never know, we might end up with a little gap.”
The group gathered in front of him was uncertain. They had hiked to Boscawen-Ûn many times, with one or two exceptions.
There are several stone circles in Cornwall, and up to 800 across the UK are home to the remains of prehistoric people who resided here. The most famous of these is Stonehenge, which is estimated to be 3,500 to 5,000 years old, attracts more than a million visitors a year and is now a managed site, roped off and requiring tickets.
Set amidst emerald green pastures, Boscawen-Ûn is a much lesser known, more rugged and remote place; There are no specific roads leading to it, just a short path. Its configuration of 19 evenly spaced upright stones plus one inclined stone resembles a sundial.
Hikers consider Boscawen-Ûn and other stone circles to be sacred.
“There is some kind of spiritual presence in these sacred places,” said Jane Weller, one of the hikers who lives in the nearby small seaside town of Marazion. “It’s magical enough for me that I’m happy to go there.”
Weller, like many in the group and across the UK, no longer considers himself a Christian, although he grew up in the Anglican church and attended church regularly into adulthood. In 2020, the Christian share of the UK population was reported to be less than half (49%). According to a Pew Research Center survey, the proportion of people without religious beliefs increased to 40% during the same period.
In the UK, some have turned to history, folklore and nature as sources of spiritual nourishment. Stone circles in particular became places of pilgrimage. Dating back to the Bronze Age (3300-1200 BC) and sometimes to the early Neolithic Age (10000 – 2200 BC), these megalithic formations are great mysteries. It is clear that the upright stones were placed carefully and methodically at regular intervals. However, since they were created before the use of written language, there is no record of how they were used.
Scholars think they had ritual significance and may have been used to mark celestial events such as the solstice and equinox, or more common events such as sunrise or sunset, a particular fascination of tour leader Kennett. But there is no consensus.
“The whole of the British Isles and Ireland have this history that exists in our areas, but we don’t know much about it,” said Suzanne Owen, an associate professor who studies Druidry in the philosophy, ethics and religion program at Leeds Trinity University.
The public’s interest in these mysterious stones is increasing. In 2021, a Cornwall couple founded a group called Stone Club to organize private walks, concerts and exhibitions for a network of enthusiasts of around 3,000 people who share tips and stories about their stone discoveries.
On the way to Boscawen-Ûn (the Cornish name) the party passed alternately through grass and brown scrub. They talked in small groups, stopping to admire the native plants, sloe and gorse. At the edge of each field they slowed down to help their fellow hikers climb over the poles separating the fields.
Some, like Andy, a 55-year-old solar panel installer from Penzance who wanted to be identified only by his first name, were proudly described as pagans. He and his wife held an old-fashioned handfasting (an ancient Celtic wedding ritual in which the couple’s hands are tied with ribbon) in Boscawen-Ûn about 30 years ago. He has been walking to the stone circles and other ancient sites every week since then.
“I couldn’t really worship in church, in a sterile environment,” he said. “I worship in nature.”
Modern-day paganism was born in the United Kingdom as people began exploring prehistoric sites in the mid-20th century. Today, scholars such as Ethan Doyle White view paganism as a family of related religions that also includes Wiccans, Druids, heretics, and goddess spirituality.
The official 2021 census puts the number of pagans in the UK at 105,809; this includes those who identify as pagans, Wiccans and more, but scientists do not trust that number.
Religious identity was a voluntary question in the census. And many who hold some pagan beliefs do not identify themselves for a variety of reasons. They may not belong to a particular pagan group, or they may feel stigmatized for accepting their beliefs.
In addition, some march participants said they had read recent studies on paganism that concluded that current practices of paganism are mostly apocryphal and have no historical antecedents.
Some say they still have great respect for prehistoric sites but a healthy skepticism about pagan celebrations and rituals. Others criticized the romantic and nationalist overtones of paganism, which sought to revive the great pre-Christian golden age.
They are what scholars call “eclectic pagans” or “cultural pagans.”
“There’s a cultural environment that draws a lot from paganism but is not reflective of people who actively practice a set of traditions,” said Doyle White, a visiting professor at the University of Hertfordshire in Hatfield, UK.
This group now includes many people with strong views on environmental protection.
Gail Charman, a 66-year-old retiree who participated in the walk, prefers to call herself a nature lover.
He still attends a church service at Christmas, but his community of fellow believers are fellow environmentalists who attend such walks.
“I love nature passionately,” Charman said. “So I love the chance to mingle with people on the walk and then do all this learning, going to these really old places. When you’re there with a group of people with common interests, it doubles the joy.”
The walkers grew quiet as they entered the stone circle via a narrow, fenced path. There was no one else on site. The circle lay motionless and undisturbed except for an occasional bird that flew overhead and some detritus from other hikers (including a woolen hat tucked under the center stone). Some walked around the stones in meditation, alone or with a partner.
Tamsin Floyd, a former nurse who sells condiments, pesto and jams she now makes from foraged ingredients, walked directly to the central quartz pillar, wrapped her arms around it and rested her head.
“It’s really comfortable to put your arms around it,” she said. “It’s a very nice feeling. It’s a very comforting feeling. I like the feeling of connecting with our ancestors, it’s a really old and ancient thing.”
Floyd and his partner are planning a wedding in Boscawen-Ûn next July. He also enjoys visiting the sacred wells and springs around Cornwall, whose waters are thought to bring healing to those who dip into them.
Kennett gathered everyone in the middle of the circle and presented a few observations from archaeologists and astronomers about how the area developed. Was the bent stone always bending? Was it the original slab around which other obelisks were erected?
What about the carvings under that stone? Do they represent ax heads or feet? Did ancient people come to watch the sun set at one end and the moon rise at the other?
He took the questions and allowed himself more quiet time. Then, as sunset was quickly falling, the group walked across the fields to St. He signaled them to start walking towards the Buryan Church.
