From Hill to Hill: Chasing Leys Across the Moors

I have nearly finished a book recommended to me after a posting about an ancient trackway over the North York Moors. I found a copy of Alfred Watkins’ 1926 book on eBay—naturally, as one finds such treasures in this modern age of commerce. Watkins postulated the existence of ley lines, an idea that prehistoric sites are aligned in charmingly convenient straight lines. He based this on his keen observations of ancient sites in the Welsh borders, which he interpreted as evidence of prehistoric trading routes. Modern enthusiasts, not to be outdone, have taken this simple, earthly concept and draped it in the robes of mysticism, linking it to magnetic fields, mysterious earth currents, and the movements of celestial bodies.

Enter our local archaeologist, Brian Smith, who noticed that Roseberry Topping and its outlier sibling, Freebrough Hill, could be seen from numerous Neolithic and Bronze Age burial mounds. While some killjoys might attribute this to the high locations of said mounds, Smith is quite sure it was all terribly deliberate, and found that from at least forty of these burial sites, Roseberry Topping was visible.

Smith further suggested that the east-west alignment of Roseberry and Freebrough held some hallowed significance. A series of seven cairns and tumuli, neatly falling in line between the two, hint at intentional placement—if you accept 50 metres as ‘neat’—anyway, surely not a coincidence. While Roseberry cannot actually be seen from Freebrough, these cairns, perched on the highest points, seem to have served as convenient waymarkers, dutifully guiding the traveller from one spiritual hill to another—because what is life without a straight-line journey between the ancestral hills of Odin and Freya?

Inspired by this archaeological revelation, I resolved to experience the spectacle myself, and set out for Penrod Hill, a rather dull midpoint between the two. But it was an excellent excuse for a morning wander over Gisborough Moor, which, not to my surprise, provided exactly the visual alignment Smith had promised. Roseberry made a modest appearance over Newton Moor in the west, while a humble tumulus sat on the skyline at Hob on the Hill to the east, presumably keeping Freebrough company in spirit, if not in sight.

Now, while one could certainly draw an endless number of imaginary lines through cairns and tumuli on the North York Moors, I must admit that the alignment between Roseberry and Freebrough, flanked by these prehistoric tumuli, does seem to suggest more than mere coincidence. Maybe it’s the faint reverberation of a purpose lost to the ages, waiting to be rediscovered. After all, the two hills are believed to have held spiritual significance, though what exactly this significance entailed, no one seems quite sure.

Watkins, in his book, also provides a delightful collection of straight-line routes used by other cultures—the North American Cree Indians and Bedouin caravans of the Middle East, for instance. However, I cannot help but suspect that even prehistoric man, when faced with the charmingly uneven terrain of the North York Moors, might have been more inclined to take a more practical approach to travel, allowing the topography to dictate his path rather than adhering rigidly to some mythic straight line.

As for the grander claims about ley lines and their mystical properties—well, one can only smile and nod.

Further reading

• Watkins, Alfred. “The Old Straight Track.” Reprinted, Abacus. 2010.
• “Roseberry Topping”. Chapter 6. Great Ayton Community Archaeology Project. 2006.