The Battle of Win Hill & Lose Hill
WIN HILL & LOSE HILL
Close to the tourist magnet of Castleton and the quieter village of Hope, lie the well-known landmarks of Win Hill and Lose Hill. Both are stunningly beautiful locations and ever-popular walking destinations. But where do their names come from? Clearly, there must be a connection between ‘win’ and ‘lose’, mustn’t there?
The Story
In the 7th century CE, the great Anglo-Saxon armies of Wessex and Northumbria faced off against each other, led by their respective kings, Cynegils and Edwin. Cynegils had amassed his forces on one hill and Edwin his upon another peak, to the east, where they had gathered stones to make a defensive bank. Things looked bleak for the men of Northumbria, as the men of Wessex far outnumbered them. Both armies marched down from their peaks, to face each other across the slender valley, with only the gentle River Noe dividing the two forces.
With a mighty roar, the two armies fell upon each other; doughty warriors hacking and slaying, until the River Noe ran red. As dauntless as the men of Northumbria were, Cynegils’ superior numbers began to tell and Edwin ordered his men to retreat up the hill, back towards their defences. Upon gaining the summit, Edwin’s secret plan was put into action. The Northumbrian warriors turned and began to roll the mighty stones of their defences down onto the charging Wessex army, killing them and bringing about their - literally - crushing defeat! From this bloody battle, then, we gain the names of Win Hill, where Edwin’s troops gathered and Lose Hill, where Cynegils’ had been.
Close to the tourist magnet of Castleton and the quieter village of Hope, lie the well-known landmarks of Win Hill and Lose Hill. Both are stunningly beautiful locations and ever-popular walking destinations. But where do their names come from? Clearly, there must be a connection between ‘win’ and ‘lose’, mustn’t there?
The Story
In the 7th century CE, the great Anglo-Saxon armies of Wessex and Northumbria faced off against each other, led by their respective kings, Cynegils and Edwin. Cynegils had amassed his forces on one hill and Edwin his upon another peak, to the east, where they had gathered stones to make a defensive bank. Things looked bleak for the men of Northumbria, as the men of Wessex far outnumbered them. Both armies marched down from their peaks, to face each other across the slender valley, with only the gentle River Noe dividing the two forces.
With a mighty roar, the two armies fell upon each other; doughty warriors hacking and slaying, until the River Noe ran red. As dauntless as the men of Northumbria were, Cynegils’ superior numbers began to tell and Edwin ordered his men to retreat up the hill, back towards their defences. Upon gaining the summit, Edwin’s secret plan was put into action. The Northumbrian warriors turned and began to roll the mighty stones of their defences down onto the charging Wessex army, killing them and bringing about their - literally - crushing defeat! From this bloody battle, then, we gain the names of Win Hill, where Edwin’s troops gathered and Lose Hill, where Cynegils’ had been.
Win Hill. Photo © Stephen Burton (cc-by-sa/2.0) & Lose Hill Photo © Neil Theasby (cc-by-sa/2.0)
The Facts
Edwin and Cynegils were the real Anglo Saxon kings of Northumbria and Wessex, and the Venerable Bede records the battle taking place between them in 626CE. However, there is not a scrap of credible, physical evidence to suggest it ever took place in this delightful Peak District location. What is most likely is that the naming of the hills is a Victorian fabrication; designed to make them more memorable, by relocating this real event and overlaying it on the Derbyshire landscape.
The actual origins of the hills’ names is far more prosaic though. Win Hill most likely derives from the Old English Withinehull, which means willow hill, whereas Lose Hill comes from hlose-hyll, which means a hill with a pigsty on it - neither as romantic as a medieval battle!
Despite the potentially disappointing reality here, this story still matters and I often use it at the beginning of talks I give on folklore, to illustrate how stories can define a landscape. In the end, it does not actually matter whether the battle between Edwin and Cynegils occurred here or not. What matters is that it provides a device for people to remember and know the names of what they see. For example, I am confident that, if you didn’t already know this story, you will certainly remember it next time you visit.