A prehistoric trackway is even more romantic than a mediæval lane, and as interesting in its own way as the carefully planned Roman road. Anything that purports to throw new light on the subject is, therefore, to be welcomed, and the theory put forward by Mr Alfred Watkins, of Hereford, is startling enough. His little book suffers from the defects of bad arrangement and an irritating style, but it ought at least to receive candid examination.
To put the matter shortly, he finds that certain conspicuous natural objects, and a miscellaneous collection of artificial objects, lie, in very many instances, in dead straight lines with one another. To these straight lines he applies the term “leys,” and he considers that they mark the lines of pre-Roman trackways, and that the objects themselves were sighting points to mark out the line of the trackway and afterwards to help the traveller to maintain his direction. The natural objects that he takes are chiefly hilltops with individual and recognisable characteristics, and the artificial objects are mounds of all kinds, moats and ponds (water sighting points), sites of churches, sacred wells, notches on hillsides, large stones, and trees specially planted. It is alleged that along the straight lines so marked out men made their way during a lengthy period, of which the beginning and the ending are equally uncertain; but that the beginning was probably in the new Stone Age, and the ending at some time in the Middle Ages.
A theory of this kind is so inherently improbable that the most cogent proof in all possible directions would be necessary before it could be accepted. It is a pity that Mr Watkins should have rushed into print before he had fully considered this necessity. Really no proof of any kind is attempted, beyond the bare fact that some or other of these various objects can be joined together on the map by straight lines. Everything else is merely surmise. The author certainly does offer some confirmatory suggestions from place names and certain English words, but it will be kinder to pass by his philological excursions without remark. It is to be regretted that amateurs, who may be excellent observers, should rush into subjects of which they do not even understand the difficulties, as it tends to discredit parts of their work that may be valuable. At least, the English language was not pre-Roman, even if the “leys” were.
Several of Mr Watkins’ assertions in support of his theory are open challenges to criticism. He casually remarks that “a most surprising fact is the enormous number of “leys,” and one of his illustrative maps shows eight leys passing through the site of Capel-y-tair-y-wen, near Hay. One would have thought that both the sentence and the map would have caused him to pause. We are asked to imagine that in the England of the neolithic, bronze and iron ages, when they country supported a sparse population by hunting, pastoralism, and, latterly, to some extent by agriculture, expert surveyors laid out trackways in mathematically straight lines, sometimes extending to distances of 50 to 60 miles, “in enormous numbers”—so enormous, in fact, that one insignificant site at the foot of the Black Mountains had no less than sixteen such ways radiating from it. It would be a good supply for a fairly large modern market town.
But some of the incidental remarks are even more amazing. According to the theory, moats and ponds on the low land were used as water sighting points, as the reflection of the water would be visible from a height. Mr Watkins finds that many ponds have cobbled bottoms, and that “examination in dry seasons shows signs of the road passing through them.” He then apparently asserts that at a later period “there evidently came a wish for roads not running through the water, and a pair of ponds or lakes with a causeway between, such as we find at Holmer fish ponds, is frequently found on the map, and is the sure indication of an ancient trackway.” One of these cobbled bottoms, showing an extremely modern looking piece of masonry, is illustrated.
Apparently the theory demands that when the system of leys was in its first glory our prehistoric ancestors preferred to walk through the middle of a pond rather than deviate even for a yard or two from the straight line that the surveyors had laid out.
Then mankind entered upon a period of degeneration, evidenced in this instance by an aversion to wet feet. But the situation was saved before the Bolsheviks of that distant age induced their deluded followers to walk round the ponds. As a concession to weakness of the flesh, artificial causeways were constructed through the middle of the ponds, and so the sacred straightness of the ley was preserved. One can hardly imagine that prehistoric man was quite like that.
At one point, indeed, a qualm seems to have troubled Mr Watkins’ mind, but it is raised only to be triumphantly dismissed. At the present time, as he remarks, it is impossible to see the sighting points from one another on account of intervening trees. A sceptic might have remarked that it would have been still more difficult to do so in prehistoric times, when the greater part of the country was covered with dense forest. The proofs of the existence of forest are overwhelming, and it would be tedious to repeat them. They are, however, airily dismissed as “the usual glib statement.” The great fact is the existence of the leys “in enormous numbers,” and if the forest interfered with the leys, so much the worse for the forest.
In recent years a small number of competent observers have worked out the nature and characteristics of prehistoric trackways upon scientific principles, with no small amount of success. Specimens can be found in many parts of the country, especially in the more hilly districts, and such examples as the Berkshire ridgeway, the Harrow way, the Icknield way, and the Pilgrim’s way (Mr Belloc’s old road) have been studied in detail. One conclusion that can be drawn confidently from these researches is that the tracks seldom or ever run in straight lines except for short distances. They are generally fairly direct, in so far as natural obstacles allow, but that is a very different thing from being straight. The thing can be tested by observing the windings of a common footpath, for ordinary persons do not walk in straight lines, even in their more sober moments.
It can be demonstrated even more conclusively by planning a long walk over open country from point to point. The process is always the same—to take the most direct route to the distant goal, but such a route will never be straight except for short distances. A hill has to be climbed, and the easiest gradient is taken; here a deviation must be made to avoid a piece of marsh; there another to circumvent a thick wood; a stream has to be crossed by a ford, stepping stones, or, perchance, a footbridge, and so on. The person who follows the straight line instead of observing the lie of the land will infallibly arrive at the journey’s end later and more exhausted than the one who observes the country.
The same thing is true of savage trails and of trackways in uncivilised lands. The straightest route is the most direct route only in countries where no natural obstacles supervene, and England, assuredly, does not come within that description. Nature’s outlines are never straight, and man’s easiest way is to conform to them. Of all these matters Mr Watkins takes no account whatever. He does not refer to any other worker in the same field (except, incidentally, to Mr Belloc), he cites no instance of a known prehistoric road in support of his theory, and he gives no instance, ancient or modern, of a ley in use. The Roman roads were generally straight for considerable distances, but the theory is concerned with the pre-Roman.
We must regretfully dismiss Mr Watkins’ beautifully illustrated little volume as a curiosity of literature rather than a contribution to science, but it would not be right to dismiss the facts that he has collected. The subject deserves further investigation upon scientific lines, and for that purpose the facts must be properly observed. We recollect that the late Mr F. J. Bennett, of the Geological Survey, published a paper many years ago in the “South Eastern Naturalist, in which he pointed out that the sites of churches were in some instances arranged in straight lines, but he could make no suggestion as to the purpose of the alignments. The first principle to be observed is that monuments of a definite and ascertainable age should be treated separately. It is obvious that an alignment must be constructed at one period, as it could not otherwise be used, and it is hopeless to take a miscellaneous collection of objects without any proof that they are of the same age. If the facts were observed on some such definite plan it would be possible to say whether the alleged alignments were purposive or whether they are merely coincidences.
A long and dismissive review of Early British Trackways by the antiquary Henry John Randall. As well as sending the journal a letter replying to this review, Watkins answered Randall’s remarks about modern looking masonry and roads through ponds in The Old Straight Track, pages 47 and 48.