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Feature Article

The Avebury Stone Circles

Not far from famous Stonehenge is a place where stones can still cast a spell.

Article and photo by Jeff Miller

For those who want to experience the haunting power and mystery of England's huge Neolithic stone circles, Stonehenge isn't the best place to go anymore. Go instead to nearby—and lesser-known—Avebury, where the stone circles are 200 years older, 10 times larger (in acreage), and 100 times more rewarding.

While Stonehenge's 3,500-year-old enigmatic stone circles are certainly impressive, the entire site is overwhelmed by a flood of tourists—more than 700,000 a year. In the past, some visitors were even caught chipping souvenirs off the stones.

To protect the ancient site, the National Trust built an obtrusive car park, installed a concrete tunnel under a busy road, and cordoned off the magnificent monoliths. Now, most people plod along a trail set about 50 feet from the circle, as commentary tape players drone in their ears. Few find the spiritual experience they had hoped for.

While the mystical experience has been beaten out of Stonehenge, at the Avebury Stone Circles (only 20 miles north of Stonehenge), visitors can still touch and walk among the giant stones in pastures filled with grazing sheep. Or contemplate the day away sitting on the high mound that rings the stone circles.

And while there are other people wandering about (little more than 60,000 a year), they actually add to the experience, not detract from it: At Stonehenge, because the stones are cordoned off, people are just things to bump into; at Avebury, because everyone can commune with the stones in their own way, people don't intrude on one's own personal musings, they become part of them.

Avebury, a hamlet in the middle of the main stone circle, sits at the intersection of two small roads. Visitors park in a lot that's outside the circle and hidden from view by stands of trees. The path from the car park leads to an unobtrusive tourist area that includes a restaurant, shops and the Barn Museum (somewhat hokey dioramas of ancient life). At the back of this area is the excellent but small Alexander Keiller Museum, a first-stop must for anyone wanting a full appreciation of the ancient site.

This archaeological museum gives a good history and overview. Visitors learn that the Avebury stones were raised more than 4,000 years ago by farmers who hadn't yet discovered the wheel and had only stone, bone and wood tools. They dragged more than 100 giant boulders (many weighing 40 tons) from three miles away and created the largest stone circle in Europe (encompassing nearly 29 acres).

The monoliths—some as tall as 19 feet—are made of a hard sandstone and called Sarsen Stones from the term “Saracen,” meaning heathen. The main circle, with two smaller ones within, is ringed by a massive ditch and an earthen mound 18 feet high. Two “avenues”—lined by giant stones—lead from the center of the circle outward; the longest, West Kennet Avenue, goes for half a mile.

While the exact use of the circles has been lost to time, educated speculation includes astrological timekeeping, religious/fertility rituals, and a burial ground. Unorthodox ideas include the possibility it was a landing site for alien spacecraft.

In medieval times, Christian farmers saw these pagan stones as evil and buried some while breaking up others for new buildings. The stone circles were nearly lost. In 1629, however, a man named John Aubrey “discovered” them while hunting. Even in their ruined state, he wrote to King Charles II, “It doeth as much exceed in greatness the so renowned Stonehenge, as a cathedral doeth a parish Church.”

In the 1920s and 1930s, Alexander Keiller, a wealthy Scot, bought most of the Avebury land and began excavating. He re-raised the buried stones, rebuilt others (reattaching fragments he found) and placed concrete posts to mark missing stones.

Today Avebury is a World Heritage Site administered by the National Trust. The pastoral setting and village's quaint thatched-roofed houses (some made from pieces of the giant stones) create the perfect atmosphere for viewing the circles.

From the Keiller Museum, it's a short walk to the pastures, where sheep wander in the shadows of the giant stones. An interpretative sign is near each pasture gate. While the stones are generally smaller than the ones at Stonehenge and were never chiseled or capped by other stones, the main circle they form is wider and more complex. Ringing the circle is the massive mound that gives a good perspective of the village and site.

Down at ground level, the moment people walk among the stones they seem touched by what is there. On one particular day, a woman in black was observed cradling herself in a vertical crevice of a stone, eyes closed, body seeking energy or inspiration. Two elderly people stood silhouetted atop the ring mound, pondering it all. A middle-aged man led a small group across the fields, divining rods wagging in their hands. A young couple ceremoniously placed crystal pendants on a stone.

At Avebury you see why people come to these rocks—to draw strength and inspiration. Their actions seem to reflect mankind's universal longing for answers, guidance and spiritual renewal. At Stonehenge, you can't see that—the people are fenced off from the very things that have drawn them there.

In addition to Avebury's stones, there are walking trails that connect them to other important ancient sites nearby: the Neolithic settlement ruins (3700 BC) atop Windmill Hill; the 130-foot high Silbury Hill (2700 BC), the largest mound built by prehistoric man in Europe—estimated to have taken longer to build than Avebury or Stonehenge; and West Kennet Long Barrow (3700-3500 BC), one of the largest and best-preserved chambered tombs in England, used for more than 1,000 years.

While these sites and the Avebury stones whisper of mysteries never to be solved, it is ultimately people's actions and reactions to the stones that make the most profound statement. Hearing numerous languages spoken by a variety of people, all trying to commune with something beyond themselves, gives one a sense of peace and unity. Culturally we might be worlds apart, but spiritually we seem to be chips struck from the same stone.

Jeff Miller is editor of EnCompass.