Stonehenge: Bridging Millennia, Contending with Modernity
Stonehenge is more than just an array of stones; it’s a canvas onto which generations have projected their hopes, beliefs and aspirations
This article is part of an ongoing series on Stonehenge. On Friday 14th July 2023, the UK’s Conservative government bypassed a high court order that rejected a highway infrastructure project which posed a risk to Stonehenge by building a tunnel beneath the World Heritage Site. If you want to add your voice to the ongoing action against this latest approval, here are some places you can do so:
- Follow @SaveStonehenge on Twitter for news, updates and action you can take and share #StandWithStonehenge.
- If you are British, you can write to your MP (you can check your MP and find contact details here).
- If you can afford it, please donate money to the Stonehenge Alliance to help with legal procedures.
Also, you can sign the following petitions to increase awareness and continue pushing for this to be debated at Parliament:
Think of a tale — one that’s deeply rooted within the cradle of British history, carved into the silhouette of its skyline, and entwined within the soul of a nation. This is the story of Stonehenge, a monument as old as the names of the countryside it sits on, standing as an unwavering testament to humanity’s early yearnings toward the cosmos. And though its stones whisper of many untold fables, of civilisations past and rites forgotten, it has been — rather paradoxically — embraced in the 21st century as a cultural inheritance for the Brits, an enduring enigma for archaeologists, and as a place of spiritual profoundness for Neo-Druidism. A true testament to this monument’s timeless allure.
Picture the world as it was five millennia ago. The rain was heavy, the gales were severe, the temperature would have been considered cool (albeit, still warmer than it was today) and the Stone Age was finally dying out. The people were still mostly migratory, and would typically focus their migrations around communal landmarks. Some of the most predominant of these are Windmill Hill in Wiltshire, the West Kennet Long Barrow (also built in Wiltshire) and the Belas Knap Tomb in Gloucestershire (all three built ~3650BCE). Shortly after this time, as flint mines were opening around Norfolk, the earthwork monuments of the past were becoming more sophisticated. At some point around 3000BCE, a group of early tribal humans gathered together to quarry 25 tonne sarsen stones and transport them 20 miles south to a seemingly unimportant hill (the remainder of the igneous rock around the henge were quarried in South West Wales, around 220 miles away). Slowly, the labour of thousands assembled the monument’s mighty stones in a dance of engineering, ingenuity and intense conviction around 2500BCE. And thus, Stonehenge began its eternal vigil.
Archaeological studies paint a nebulous picture as to why Stonehenge was built — a temple for the dead, a celestial calendar, a place for healing, a combination of the three, or a number of other theories that have been floated. The mystery persists to this day. The megalith’s purpose woven into the tapestry of time, lost, but forever speculated upon and forever fascinating. Across its weathered visage, Stonehenge bears silent witness to a history both turbulent and transformational.
However, over time, the integrity of the stones has been deteriorating. By the early 20th century, five of the larger stones had tumbled over, and another ten stones were propped up by wooden beams to prevent the same fate from occurring. In 1963, another stone fell. The aged, weather-worn, and lichen-covered rocks eventually underwent a crucial restoration following these events, ensuring the landmark’s longevity.
From the grassy plains of Wiltshire, Stonehenge reaches out anchoring itself as an icon of British identity despite being several thousand years older than any identifiable British culture. In 1986, Stonehenge and neighbouring Avebury were inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but its grandeur had captured the collective imagination of the world for many centuries prior its inclusion to the prestigious list. For better (or worse), it has economically invigorated the region, attracting tourism like bees to wildflowers. Its image, replicated across postcards, books and the silver screen, has seeped into the bloodstream of popular culture, etching itself into the heart of Britain’s symbolic landscape.
History tells us that the Druids of antiquity and Stonehenge existed as strangers, rarely (if ever) crossing paths. However, in the quest for spiritual identity, the neo-Druidic movement has embraced Stonehenge as its own, drawn to its ancient and magnetic pull. Here, Druids gather to celebrate the solstice, extending their hands in unity under the cosmic ballet of the sun and the moon, breathing new life into the ancient stones. For them, Stonehenge isn’t merely a monument; it’s a spiritual compass guiding their pursuit of connectedness with the world.
Personally, while I enjoy the ceremonies at Stonehenge, I do not have a spiritual bond with the area. It’s existence in my mind is nothing more than an enigmatic mystery for academics and archaeologists, but I do admire them deeply. As a symbol of prehistory innovation, of communal determination and as a cultural inheritance to all children of Britain.
According to local legend in 1915, a barrister named Cecil Chubb went out to fetch some groceries on behalf of his wife. Upon his return, he presented his wife with a most eccentric gift — the deed to Stonehenge. It turns out that while in the area, he came across an auction where Stonehenge had been put up by the previous owner. Fearing that a foreign corporation might acquire the British monument and commercialise the area, he made a bid of £6,000 (roughly equivalent to £600k in 2023). Of course, his wife was absolutely furious at this outrageous act and demanded that Cecil get rid of the henge immediately. In 1918, Cecil generously donated Stonehenge to the government, putting the monument in public possession under four conditions:
- The public must be allowed access to all parts of Stonehenge, with the cost of entry not exceeding one shilling per visit.
- No buildings or structures, other than a ticket booth, should be built within four hundred yards of the Amesbury 2 milestone.
- Chubb and his associates must be protected from any costs, claims, or legal proceedings resulting from any breach of the conditions.
- As far as possible, Stonehenge should be kept in its current condition.
Today, Stonehenge stands not at the crossroads of ley lines, but at the intersection of complex dialogues about heritage, modernity, and spiritual significance. The controversy surrounding the tunnel project underscores this delicate balance. How do we reconcile the advancement of modernitywith respect for ancient sactity? Stonehenge is more than just an array of stones; it’s a canvas onto which generations have projected their hopes, beliefs and aspirations.
The UK Conservative’s plan puts the henge in jeopardy for the sake of an outrageously expensive infrastructure project (at a time when the British cost of living crisis grows exponentially) is, in my opinion, a careless act which desecrates the very value of traditional conservation that this political party once stood for. As a Druid, I feel a responsibility to oppose this act — not because of my own beliefs, but to protect those who find spiritual connection in the stones themselves. As a British national, I have a responsibility to reject any proposal which threatens national culture. And as a father, I have a responsibility to preserve some of the magic that still exists in this world so that one day I can answer my children when they ask me “What did you do to make a better world for me?”.
As the sun sets, casting long shadows between the megaliths, the story of Stonehenge continues to unfold. Its narrative, from prehistoric enigma to modern icon and spiritual sanctuary, encapsulates the diverse threads of Britain’s historical and cultural fabric. Amid the clamor of contemporary debates, let the quiet strength of Stonehenge remind us of our roots, of the importance of remembering, and of the duty we have in safeguarding the symbols of our shared heritage. For in these ancient stones, we may yet discover our future.
