Stonehenge and the eerie allure of ancient stone circles

Ancient stone circles act both as portals and reminders of a different time, writes Rosalind Jana, as an exhibition at the British Museum explores the mysteries of the deep past.
There are many things one can buy at an auction, especially if you're looking for a good antique. Dining chairs, for example. Maybe a nice set of curtains. When the barrister Cecil Chubb attended an auction in Salisbury, Wiltshire in 1915, his sights were set on something domestic. But in that feverish atmosphere of the auction house – a place where it's easy to get swept up in the thrill of bidding and fear of losing out on something one of a kind – he made an unexpected purchase. He bought Stonehenge for £6,600 (about £680,000 by today's value). It happened, he said, "on a whim". Chubb, who was the last private owner of Stonehenge, only laid claim to the site for three years. In 1918 he ed the stones into public ownership, where they have remained ever since under the care of English Heritage.
Built 4,500 years ago, Stonehenge is one of the most famous prehistoric monuments in the world. It is a slab of ancient history that looms over Salisbury Plain, as old as the Pyramids and equally fascinating as a feat of construction. It is instantly recognisable: the hulking sarsens, the improbable lintels. This horseshoe of stone – described by Thomas Hardy in Tess of the d'Urbervilles (1891) as "a forest of monoliths" – commands the landscape for miles around.

Given both its age and its scale, it's unsurprising that Stonehenge has been such a constant source of intrigue and obsession, as well as artistic inspiration. From archaeologists to druids, historians to poets, ardent pilgrims to the occasional impulse buyer, its mysterious origins and powerful material presence have captivated people not just for centuries, but millennia. It is a place that immediately poses questions. Where are the stones from? (The short answer: the smaller ones, known as bluestones, are from Preseli in South-West Wales, 220 miles away, while the larger ones originate from Marlborough Downs, which is 20 miles from Stonehenge.) How were they transported and arranged? (Extraordinary human effort, potentially involving land, sea, sledges, wooden tracks and ted timbers.) What was the purpose of it all?
This last question remains the most open-ended. It is one that the British Museum's current exhibition The World of Stonehenge seeks, at least in part, to answer. By taking a comprehensive look at the artefacts created and materials used by the people from the Neolithic era through to the Bronze Age, the exhibition seeks to unravel the complex meaning of these standing stones. Across the course of the show, Stonehenge figures as many things: a stake claimed to the land, a space for community and ritual, a burial site, art on a vast scale, a monument with great cosmological significance, a magnetic draw for visitors from afar. The show argues for Stonehenge as a place of shifting significance, added to over time and reflecting the extraordinary transformation brought about by the technological transition from stone to metalworking.
"There's something about the way Stonehenge has come to crystallise or symbolise a sense of the deep past," lead curator Neil Wilkin explains, when asked about why the site continues to exert such a hold on us today. This is a past before written records, before easy documentation, a past that marries "the natural and historical" with the speculatively ceremonial and spiritual. The exhibition compares Stonehenge with several other stone circles, as well as Seahenge: a timber circle with a tree stump at its heart built in 2049BC on a Norfolk saltmarsh, which was rediscovered in 1998. Excavated to preserve it from the elements, the timbers are currently on show in the British Museum, ancient wood standing to attention in the gloom.
The power of a stone circle
Although megalithic stone circles appear in other locations including , they are mostly concentrated in the UK (recent news has focused on Stonehenge's parallels with elaborate pebble circles in Japan). "The henge monument, which is a ditch and bank, those monuments are exclusive to Britain and Ireland, which is a very curious thing – and difficult to explain," Wilkin says. The curiousness of the stone circle has made it an attractive meeting point for all sorts of people, and all sorts of purposes.
Artists Lally Macbeth and Matthew Shaw run Stone Club: a place "for stone enthusiasts to congregate, to muse, and most importantly to stomp to stones". Founded in 2021, they put on events, sell merchandise, organise outings, and encourage a general enthusiasm for all things prehistoric. "The second rule of stone club is that it's for everyone," Macbeth explains. "We really felt like it had to be a space which is completely inclusive, whatever viewpoint you were coming from." What this means in practise is that they are an open house for geologists and folklorists alike. Whether you want to learn about strata formation or hear about how your local circle might be composed of women petrified as punishment for dancing on the sabbath, all are equally welcome.
It is this unique blend of myth and history that also make stone circles such resonant settings for artists, writers, photographers, filmmakers and musicians. From the stark lines of Stonehenge to the lumpen sprawl of nearby Avebury, via the many circles scattered up and down Britain and Ireland, from Cornwall to Cork to Orkney to Shropshire, what these places symbolise goes far beyond a mere memento of the past. Many of these smaller monuments come with their own complex stories: of witches, of magical properties, of secret rituals, of metamorphosed bodies and ley lines and between spaces where the veil separating our present world from other times and places grows thin. Our lack of definitive knowledge over how these circles were originally used only heightens the drama. Imagination rushes in to fill the hollows, age-old explanations for these strange structures solidified into a history that blurs the factual and folkloric. "I think we quite like to play with that idea of drifting between magic and reality," Macbeth adds. "Creating experiences that do feel slightly otherworldly, but then bringing [it] back down to the earth and to the stone."
Ritual and time travel
A stone circle is a useful dramatic device. It is visually striking. Often eerily so. There's a reason why so many stories involving stone circles focus on the idea of people turned to rock. The stones stand, gathered like figures. Tracing some of the lumps and clefts in the sarsens at Avebury, for example, it's easy to find yourself searching for faces. Although such circles are built from the natural world and speak to its rhythms – its seasons, its solstices – they also exist in opposition to the landscape. Their appearance is surreal, sometimes foreboding. Without beginning or end, they suggest all manner of strange possibilities enclosed within their com.

Certain genres of work have made particularly effective use of the stone circle. Folk horror, with its revelations of dark and savage things lurking beneath the bucolic rural surface, is especially apt territory. In cult classic movie The Wicker Man (1973), which is set on a remote Scottish island, a circle complete with Stonehenge-style lintels forms the backdrop for naked frolicking and ominous processions. A relic from a pre-Christian world, the stone circle is a ripe reminder of older, pagan beliefs. Though such theories are no longer given much credence, the image of ritual sacrifice still lingers: stones reimagined as alters. In the tragic denouement of Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles, Tess's final resting place before she is arrested and executed is "an oblong slab" at Stonehenge. "Did they sacrifice to God here">window._taboola = window._taboola || []; _taboola.push({ mode: 'alternating-thumbnails-a', container: 'taboola-below-article', placement: 'Below Article', target_type: 'mix' });