IT IS DIFFICULT, if not impossible, for today’s urban-bound inhabitant with the continuous availability of round-the-clock supermarket produce to appreciate the fundamental fact that food, along with air and water – the three most basic requirements for human survival – is ultimately dependent on continued fertility of the soil from which plants and trees draw nourishment through their roots and on which domesticated animals graze to provide eggs, cheese, milk and meat.

Once human society evolved from gathering and hunting food in the wild into a more settled mainly agricultural way of life the necessity of keeping land fertile was naturally of paramount importance: evidence from archaeology and early literature shows that religious ritual and belief centred around this concern. Ancient historical inscriptions and records reveal that stones were used not only as mundane markers to delineate an area of land belonging to a particular clan, tribe, city-state or kingdom, but also had powerful religious affiliations mostly connected with fertility and the influencing of unpredictable forces of nature – heat, light, rain, and storms – to achieve this aim.

Gods and goddesses varied in their characteristics in accordance with their geographical and climatic ‘homelands’ – in some climates the sun is more of a destroyer through drying up the land and causing drought, while in other regions excessive wet and cold are the enemies of agriculture. Life was a struggle to maintain a correct balance between the elements so that enough food could be grown to avoid starvation. Ritual was vital to achieve this balance and tended to be performed at dangerous ‘turning points’ of the agricultural and pastoral cycles – preparation of the soil; germination of seeds; care of new-born livestock; nurturing of tender young plants and animals; harvest time. Other important ritual periods were at the turning-points of the sun’s apparent journey across the sky – at the two solstices and the two equinoxes: phases of the monthly lunar cycle provided a shorter round of timekeeping and ritual activity.

Knowledge of the ancient use for ‘pillars’, ‘obelisks’ and cone-shaped stones in the Mediterranean region helps to suggest some possible functions for Bronze Age menhirs of Western Europe – magical powers; boundary and wayside markers; burial places; representation of both male and female deities; the ability of the stones themselves to bring the dead back to life and to punish wrongdoers – all uses substantiated in British folklore tradition.*  But archaeological excavation of standing stones shows no consistently recurring theme – some stones were associated with human or animal remains; some with just a single waterworn pebble or piece of flint; some had a possible ritual deposit of soil while others turned up absolutely nothing or just an empty ‘grave’.

‘Alternative’ study of prehistoric monuments during the 20th century, particularly by Lockyear, Thom and Michell, all suggest intended association with movements of the stars, the moon, and the sun, in which alignments of all types of site stretch across the landscape – no stone being higher than necessary – and Michell made the important point that menhirs should not be studied in isolation.*

Menhirs can be interpreted as representing the omphalos, or navel centre of the world, not the world in the sense of the complete planet but any small part of it occupied by a particular family, clan, tribe, kingdom or even deity at a special time of year and, perhaps, sometimes erected in alignments to enhance their perceived powers. Whether it was customary in the British Isles for passers-by in prehistoric times to place a stone by the menhir is, of course, unknown, but the cairn of small stones around the two menhirs at Boswens and Bosullow might reflect the survival of a more general practice.*

Differences in the size and shape of stone used, ‘alternative’ and archaeological discovery, and persistent and universal legends of healing and fertility, all go to imply a great variety of ritual in their usage. A use so basic and vital that the erection of ‘longstones’ was ultimately directed towards a single main aim – promotion and protection of the health and fecundity of the animal, vegetable and mineral world on which the continuation of the human species depends, and where regular ceremonies were conducted which brought together potent male and female sexual elements.

It has been remarked that the oldest symbol of the world-axis is the sacred tree – The Tree of Life – uniting heaven and earth;*  the earthy underworld from which its roots derive nourishment and the heavens from which it absorbs sun and rain: trees obviously cannot grow without ‘underworld’ roots and, the deeper go these roots, the taller does the tree grow up to the sky. The tree therefore demonstrates the interdependence of nature and the promise of annual resurrection. Once nomadic peoples began to establish settled communities based around the clearance of land for agriculture, sacred trees, and, later, sacred wooden poles, were generally replaced by permanent stone pillars.

I think the reason as to why stone was so especially venerated in ancient times should be sought for in the natural world itself. Rocky outcrops, whether small carns or massive snow-capped mountain ranges, appear to rise out of the earth and move upwards towards the heavens. Although ‘born’ out of the underworld, rocks, unlike most trees, flowers, plants and other vegetation, remain permanent features in the landscape except in very unusual circumstances, such as an earthquake or volcanic eruption. Stone was a constant visual reminder of the continuity of nature through day and night, summer and winter; stone was ‘strong’, unruffled by storm or drought – permanent and everlasting. High places became the earthly abode, or even birthplace, of deities watching over the life, decay and rebirth of the natural world.  As a consequence of this ‘bridge’ between heaven and earth stone of all kinds came to be regarded as containing a sacred spirit, a life-force.*

Despite references to other European cultures it is unlikely, if not impossible, that there will ever be a definitive answer to the question “What was the function of the Cornish menhir?”. It is obvious that, today, only a fraction of menhirs remain in position and that, many centuries ago, the area must have been a veritable pincushion of standing stones. We can only hope that the few remaining examples are now left in peace to continue their watch over the magical landscape of the Far West of Cornwall.