The rescheduled Underground Folklore talk did go ahead, but in the present isolation situation all other talks will have to be postponed until later in the year.
In the meantime, I'll endeavour to write up some of the stuff for this blog that's been sitting on my desktop for ages without action.
A while ago we did a circular walk from Appledore in Kent that included a stretch of the Royal Military Canal and a visit to St Mary's church in Stone-in-Oxney. The church was rebuilt following a fire in the fifteenth century and has a number of interesting features, the most unusual of which can be found in the rear of the building under the tower. It is a large almost square piece of carved Kentish ragstone, 2 feet by 1 foot 10 inches and 3 feet 4 inches tall with a distinct carving of a bull on the side facing the viewer - the other three sides are too badly damaged and eroded to make out the images, but it is assumed that they also include carvings of bulls (see Notes and Queries below). It is commonly identified as an altar from a temple dedicated to Mithras that was either on the site of the church, or in the near vicinity.
I've visited a number of Mithraea over the years: San Clemente in Rome, Martigny in Switzerland, and Carrawburgh Roman Fort on Hadrian's Wall amongst others. Of course, one of the most famous is the Mithraeum uncovered along the Walbrook in the City of London after the Second World War that has in recent years been relocated and reconstructed as part of an atmospheric and numinous visitor experience that is highly recommended. See here.
Sculptures from the temple were also preserved and are now on display in the Museum of London. The most interesting shows the culmination of Mithraic rites, the slaughter of a bull, or tauroctony. We saw a very impressive example at the Louvre in Lens a few years ago. See here.
The church at Stone-in-Oxney provides a laminated copy of an article from the journal Bygone Kent (c.2000): 'Traces of Mithraism in Kent' by R.B. Parish (I haven't been able to find the text of this article online for a link, but I quote from it below) which is very informative.
A basin has been carved into the top of the stone and the article quotes Rev. Grevile Mairis Livett (misspelled as Levit) Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries (his obituary can be found here): 'The most significant feature is the focus hollowed out of the top for the reception of libations made to the god, or of the exta (internal organs) of the slaughtered animals to be burnt, while the flesh was consumed at the sacrificial feast.' It is also noted that the basin once had an iron lining.
Livett's description of the stone continues: 'It has certain peculiar features: there is no inscription such as is usually found on Roman altars on the front face, while the sides are usually blank or may have symbolic carving on them, the back being plain. In this case, the bull, repeated on all four sides, must be regarded as the symbol of the god, and I imagine it must indicate the devoting of the altar to the soldier's god Mithras, though his altars are generally sculpted with a representation of the taurobolium ie. Mithras slaying the bull.'
'Set into the foot of the structure is an iron ring which rather erroneously has been suggested was where victims were secured to be sacrificed. This would, however, appear to be unlikely and it would be more feasible that it was set into the stone when it was used as a horse mounting block and thus was to tether the horses to.'
The stone is mentioned in Notes & Queries Oct 23 1869 (p.347): Stone Altar. This object is not noticed in the Archaeologica Cantiana. The only account I have seen of it ... is the following from Murray's admirable Handbook: "In the garden of the vicarage of Stone is preserved an ancient altar (Brito-Roman?) which before its removal there had, time out of mind, been kept in the church. It had figures of oxen on four sides, only one of which is now perfect. At the foot is an iron ring for securing victims (?) and vestiges of the iron lining to the basin existed until very recently. This altar seems to illustrate the name of the district, 'Oxney', the cattle island."'
The village website informs us: 'At that time the temple and its military outpost would have been on the coastline, overlooking an extensive marshy delta. The higher ground of the Isle of Oxen formed the edge of the great Wealden forest of Anderida.'
Tradition had it that the stone had been discovered at an unknown date under the north chapel floor where it remained until the eighteenth century when it was moved to the vicarage garden and used as a mounting block for horses. Historian Edward Hasted noted that during this period 'it suffered considerable damage, becoming cracked and mutilated.' Hasted's History of Kent has an illustration, as does Camden's Britannica, according to Parish's article.
It's worth reading 'Historical Notes on the church of Stone in Oxney, Kent' by W.H. Yeadle (1935) which can be read as a pdf here.
In the early 1920s antiquarians wanted the stone to go to Maidstone Museum or be protected by a shelter, but in 1926 it was moved from the vicarage garden to its present location inside the church, a feat achieved by public subscription and support of the Kent Archaeological Society.
It has been suggested that the altar may have come from the Saxon Shore Fort called Stutfall Castle at Lympne. See here.
Interestingly and I suppose inevitably local folklore also includes tales of secret tunnels in the vicinity, to quote from the Bygone Kent article once more, with the author's highly speculative interpretations:
'It may also be significant that Kenardington, not far away [about 5 km to the north east] on Romney Marsh, is associated with three interesting pieces of folklore which may have relevance here. One is that the church is built upon a mound, beneath which are said to be "tunnels", for which one could read a Mithraeum. These are bizarrely said to be haunted by a coach, perhaps a folk memory of Roman chariots. The third is that somewhere in the land around it is said to be hidden a golden calf, which is of course the sacred symbol of Mithraism. Sadly no Roman remains have been unearthed to support the theory and the mound on which the church sits is generally believed to be Danish. Yet, these possible folk memories are highly suggestive, and the stratum, sandstone, would be easy to tunnel into. Perhaps then this was another Christianised site, or the altar came from Kenardington.'
In my Secret Tunnels of England I mention the widespread folklore of buried golden calves - possibly a memory of pre-Reformation statues of saints and other Catholic treasures, rather than Mithraic origins. I hope to visit Kenardington soon, as it does not appear in my book, but sounds worth including if there is ever a second edition.
