Latest Folklore

According to Rhys, in his 1901 ‘Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx’:

Mrs. Davies, who is sixtyone years of age, says that when her parents, Edward and Ann Williams, lived at Rhoslydan, near Bryneglwys, in Yale, some seventy-five years ago, the servant man happened one day in the spring to be ploughing in a field near the house. As he was turning his team back at one end of the field, he heard some one calling out from the other end, Y mae eisieu hoelen yn y pil, or ‘The peel wants a nail’; for pil is the English peel, a name given to a sort of shovel provided with a long handle for placing loaves in an oven, and for getting them out again. When at length the ploughman had reached the end of the field whence he guessed the call to have proceeded, he there saw a small peel, together with a hammer and a nail, under the hedge. He saw that the peel required a nail to keep it together, and as everything necessary for mending it were there ready to hand, he did as it had been suggested. Then he followed at the plough-tail until he came round again to the same place, and there he this time saw a cake placed for him on the spot where he had previously found the peel and the other things, which had now disappeared. When the servant related this too his master, he told him at once that it was one of the Tylwyth Teg of that locality that had called out to him.

The field contains two round barrows – no doubt the fairy lived in one of them.

Similar to Hob’s ‘Duergar’ there is this story from the Monthly Chronicle 1891, noted in Tegner’s ‘Ghosts of the North Country’ (1991), and summarised by me:

Local people said that travellers daring enough to cross the Simonside hills at night were bound to be led astray by the lanterns of demonic looking little men who dressed in dark green and brown. A sceptic decided to prove the tales wrong, and set off to spend a night in the hills. When darkness fell without incident he felt a bit smug, but just as he started to relax he saw a flickering light in front of him – and then another, another.. The better part of valour being discretion, he packed his things away quickly and took flight for home. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed – noone was behind him but when he turned back again his way was barred by a group of little men holding lighted brands. Understandably terrified he fought his way through them with the aid of his stick, but it was all too much for him and he fainted away. He only came to when dawn finally broke.

more on p96 of the ‘local historian’s table book’ (1843):
google.co.uk/books?id=yhcHAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA96&dq=simonside&as_brr=1#PPA96,M1

The barrow came by the name the Lord’s Seat, as it was here that William Peveril, he of Peveril Castle fame, sat and watched the Peak Forest chase.

It’s not just the stone but the field it stands in – Cae Lleidr Dyfrydog (the field of the Dyfrydog thief).

Mr. Hugh Francis 1 of Holyhead House, Ruthin [heard this story] from Robert Roberts, of Amlwch, who has now been dead about thirty years:

--About 105 years ago there lived in the parish of Llandyfrydog, near Llannerch y Med, in Anglesey, a man named Ifan Gruffyd, whose cow happened to disappear one day. Ifan Gruffydd was greatly distressed, and he and his daughter walked up and down the whole neighbourhood in search of her. As they were coming back in the evening from their unsuccessful quest, they crossed the field called after the Dyfrydog thief, Cae Lleidr Dyfrydog, where they saw a great number of little men on ponies quickly galloping in a ring. They both drew nigh to look on; but Ifan Gruffyd’s daughter, in her eagerness to behold the little knights more closely, got unawares within the circle in which their ponies galloped, and did not return to her father.

The latter now forgot all about the loss of the cow, and spent some hours in searching for his daughter; but at last he had to go home without her, in the deepest sadness. A few days afterwards he went to Mynadwyn to consult John Roberts, who was a magician of no mean reputation. That ‘wise man’ told Ifan Gruffyd to be no longer sad, since he could get his daughter back at the very hour of the night of the anniversary of the time when he lost her. He would, in fact, then see her riding round in the company of the Tylwyth Teg whom he had seen on that memorable night. The father was to go there accompanied by four stalwart men, who were to aid him in the rescue of his daughter. He was to tie a strong rope round his waist, and by means of this his friends were to pull him out of the circle when he entered to seize his daughter.

He went to the spot,and in due time he beheld his daughter riding round in great state. In he rushed and snatched her, and, thanks to his friends, he got her out of the fairy ring before the little men had time to think of it. The first thing Ifan’s daughter asked him was, if he had found the cow, for she had not the slightest reckoning of the time she had spent with the fairies.

from Celtic Folklore,
Welsh And Manx by John Rhys [1901], to be found at the sacred texts site.
sacred-texts.com/neu/cfwm/

Maiden Castle is traditionally a place where the fairies gathered for feasting.

It is also said that some labourers were once passing the fort and saw lights hovering above its entrance – they believed these were fairies.

(Janet Bord, in her 2004 book ‘Fairy Sites’, using Roberts’ article ‘Fairy Rings’ in Earth Giant 2.)

Here’s a more recent reporting of Strange Lights, taken from
bbc.co.uk/dorset/content/articles/2006/03/22/unexplained_feature.shtml

christin harris & jamie gaston
i always considered aliens as “real” but always wanted to see proof. Now i havnt exactly got proof of Little green men. But both me and jamie have witnessed extremely weird lights around maiden caslte at the time of 4:09 am on august the 8th 2008.we had just passed the bridge going over bypass. and was passing the house. and was walking along the road to maiden caslte talking about how the others wimped out in going up with us. Half way down the road just before the car park, 2 lights appeared from the top of maiden caslte & from the right handside ridge. Jamie commented that i was joking around. so we carried on walking until, these lights just went flying up infront of both of us. its was as if a car with hi-beam was on maiden castle and it just took off. At this point, i doupt i have ever ran so fast screaming. Im sure jamie will agree.straight away i rang sean up. jamie rang peanut (real name jamie aswell) neither of them beleived us. so stupidly we decided to go back again, without wimping out. by this time it wasnt a 4:26 when the sky was dark blue, no stars veiw able, except exactly above maiden caslte, one light was above the right handside ridge. the over directly on top. we could tell its wasnt a plane. 1. because there was no jet stream. 2. no noice.3. The are no planes at 4 in the morning which fly so low over maiden castle. although another conclusion could be the surgestion of a dog walker. But i have 2 questions, How any dog walkers have lights stronger than a cars hi-beam, and who walks there dog over maiden castle when there has been reported vanishings.and for a fact.. there was not one car in the car park.im not saying it was an alien.Im saying it was an unidentified flying object.and it scared me lifeless.Thank you for reading my comment.

Yet another piece of folklore attached to the site – this one to be found in R Evans’ ‘Somerset stories of the supernatural’ (2001) (and noted in Bord’s ‘Fairy Sites’ book).

Once it was considered unlucky to traverse the mound. A local man who was protesting against the building of the nuclear power station said that it would be built ‘over his dead body’. Out riding in the area (and apparently unaware of its reputation) he rode over the mound. Later he was killed in a fall from his horse. And of course, the power station was inevitably built.

This story seems to hang together so poorly (why would the fairies want to bring him bad luck when he was trying to save the tone of the neighbourhood?) that can one only assume it’s actually based on Real Happenings, the story being concocted around them to make sense of two unpleasant events?

The stone ramparts of this wooded hillfort are still up to 10ft high? There are also dewponds known locally as ‘fairies’ wells’, and Apparently there have been regular sightings of the little beggars themselves over the years. In 1938 L E Meyer wrote (in ‘West Mendip Fragments’) about a sighting which took place in a coppiced area on the northern slopes. (info from Bord’s ‘Fairy Sites’)

Perhaps the following story refers to somewhere on Worlebury hill too (in ‘Somerset Folklore’ by Ruth Tongue, 1965):

At Worle, when the fishermen go down to the sea, they each put a white stone on the cairn or ‘fairy mound’ on the hillside and say: “Ina pic winna / Send me a good dinner.” And more times than not they come [back] with a load of fish.

This was told her by a Weston-super-Mare fisherman (who presumably wasn’t just taking the mickey out of people from Worle)
Apparently the cairn of stones on the highest point of the hill was called ‘Pickwinner or Pickwynnard’ which goes to ‘explain’ the first line of the rhyme (perhaps) – Rev. HG Tomkins noted in 1876 that the cairn ‘is nearly taken away’. He was writing in v3 of the Bath Field Club journal, and also includes much info on the skeletons found there, ramparts etc with diagrams. He also mentions St Kews Steps which lead from Kewstoke to the crown of the hill.

It may be of no relevance at all, but King “Ina” was king of Wessex in Saxon times, founded the city of Wells, and apparently lies buried in the cathedral there. Might just be a coincidence of sounds of course.

There was a magazine called ‘Picwinnard’ in the 1970s, which according to Jeremy Harte’s ‘Alternative approaches to folklore‘ bibliography, mentioned local folklore of ‘secret tunnels’ at Worlebury.

According to some folklorists, the name “Jenny-wi’t’-lantern” is a Northumbrian term for Will-o-the-wisps.

Earthlights? Faultlines? Rock art? Hmmm.

An earlier version of the story, from Aubrey’s 1664 Monumenta Britannica (and quoted in Grinsell’s ‘Folklore of Stanton Drew’).

The common people tell this incredible story, that Hakewell stood upon the top of Norton Hill, about half a mile off where the Coyte now lies, and coyted it down to this place; for which having the Manor of Norton given him, and thinking it too little, did give it the name of Norton Mal-reward which they pronounce small reward.

Which neatly explains the stone and the strangely named village in one fell swoop.

Not farre hence, in an open plaine, are to be seene certaine stones, somewhat squared, and fastened about a foote deepe in the ground, of which, some sixe or eight stand vpright in proportionable distance: they are termed, The hurlers.

And alike strange obseruation, taketh place here, as at Stonehenge, to wit, that a redoubled numbring, neuer eueneth with the first. But far stranger is the country peoples report, that once they were men, and for their hurling vpon the Sabboth, so metamorphosed. The like whereof, I remember to haue read, touching some in Germany (as I take it) who for a semblable prophanation, with dauncing, through the Priests accursing, continued it on a whole yere together.

Almost adioyning hereunto, is a heap of rocks, which presse one of a lesse size, fashioned like a cheese, and therethrough termed Wringcheese.

From Richard Carew’s 1605 ‘Survey of Cornwall’ which you may find at classic-literature.co.uk/british-authors/16th-century/richard-carew/the-survey-of-cornwall/ (page 105 – this is the 1769 edition).

Folk traditions about this site ascribe it as the grave of a character called Jeppe, who was an outlaw in the 11th or 12th century. This Jeppe and his band at some stage were waylaid and Jeppe was slain. As none of the local parishes would want to fork out for a decent burial for the knave, his cadaver was taken to the point where the parishes of Pendleton, Wiswell and Sabden meet and interred there. However, it appears the point where the parishes meet is actually some way away at the summit of Wiswell Moor, so Jeppe was deposited in a prehistoric monument on the side of the fell.
Other traditions claim that Jeppe was a murdered pauper, though the same economical reasons for his odd burial spot are cited.
An interesting note is that, in 1969, an axe dating from the Bronze Age was discovered in Pendleton. The object is now on display at Clitheroe Museum.

As far as I’m aware, legend says, that the Stone of Destiny a.k.a The Stone of Scone, Jacob’s Pillow was brought to Ireland by the Gaels from Galicia having been previously acquired by the Gaels in their travels through Egypt.

This Stone was subsequently taken by the rulers of Tara, the Kings of Ireland (the sons of Niall) to their new power base in Scotland.

And so on via Edward I (boo hiss etc)... but it now resides in Edinburgh Castle with a caveat from the present monarchy that it should be returned to Westminster Abbey for the royal arse to be sat on for any subsequent coronation ceremonies.

So if the Stone of Destiny is in Edinburgh Castle what is the Lia Fail?

This is also a Stone of Destiny – for it’s clear that throughout the ages this stone has had almost divine attributes for both the people and their rulers – so when clan Niall claimed that they took their Stone with them to Scotland it would only be expected that the Irish kings would put in a counter claim that the original Stone was still in Ireland-

Just as the Scots did when Edward I (boo hiss) took the stone from Scone to Westminster. Who’s right? Who knows!

If anyone has any other info on these two stones, such as their geological/geographical origins I’d love to hear about it.

Addendum

Above ‘muirchertach’ states that the name Scotland comes from the celtic word for incomer or raider. Personally, I prefer the legend that the name Scotland comes from the name of an Egyptian Pharoah’s daughter... Scota... yes, the one who found Moses and married Niall....yes, he who was the legendary founder of the clan Niall. And if you want to stretch the legend even further the man who shares his name with the vast river that flows through Egypt.

And this brings us back to where the Stone of Destiny was acquired in the first place.

On the summit of cloud hill is a stone outcrop known as the drummer’s knob. It is said that at this place during the Jacobite rebellion an English sniper killed a young Jacobite drummer boy. He is said to haunt the area with his ghostly drumming.
It is also said that a giant dropped his shoe on the hill and was then startled by a small animal and fled leaving his shoe behind. The shoe then turned to stone over many years and now looks like a boulder with a hollowed out face.

Crossings Guide to Dartmoor tells us that the name Plague Market and also Potato Market came about when the nearby town of Tavistock was ravaged by the plague. The moorland people would travel to this site to leave food for the townsfolk.
He also states that the round stone is infact a millstone carved by a local who then decided it was not fit for the job

The British Camp in The Malvern Hills is another one of our stunning ‘world hills’. The view from the top is absolutely awesome. I remember once having scrambled to the top with the kids in a blue sky, crisp, clear, autumn day and looking down onto Jet Fighters as they boomed over the fields below.
What would our ancestors have thought of that?

Anyway, not only Elgar tramped this hillside, but also JRR Tolkien. The following is an extract from the cover notes of a recording of Tolkien, written by George Sayer.
‘He and I tramped the Malvern Hills which he had often seen during his boyhood in Birmingham or from his brother’s house on the other side of the Severn River Valley. He lived the book as we walked, for instance, sometimes comparing parts of the hills with the White Mountains of Gondor’.

I wonder if they ever bumbed into each other, Elgar whistling away and Tolkien deep in his elvish thoughts.

Childe the Hunter travelling home one dark and stormy night, got caught in a Blizzard his horse fell and died so the story goes he slit the horse’s belly open and crawled in to keep warm sooner or later realising he would’nt get home composed a note (just happened to have Quill and ink on him) saying that who ever finds me and gives me a Christian Burial shall have all my land and money later a couple of uneducated peasants found Childe and the note and of course not being able to read took the note to the Tavistock monks whereby they set off to find Childe the Hunter as they were doing this the monks of Plymstock also heard about Childe’s land and money and the request for a Christian Burial set off on to the moors where they ambushed the monks of Tavistock and gave them a good seeing too! took the note and all that went with it.

There is enough folklore here to fill many pages or make a Hollywood movie.
A seventh son of a seventh son.
Clandestine meetings with sprites and fairies.
A ‘man of the cloth’ communing with nature spirits.
Murder, mystery and possible elfin abduction.

And a true life tale of ‘publish and be damned’? Literally.

The past and present, fact and fable all combine to make Doon Hill a very, very special place.

If you are interested, do a search on
Doon Hill – Aberfoyle – Reverend Robert Kirk – The Secret Commonwealth -

....that should kill a few hours!

https://www.northernearth.co.uk/61/brothers.htm
This article by Rob Wilson in Northern Earth magazine relates the somewhat hard-to-swallow story behind the two stones.

Apparently two brothers grew up happily in this area, but went off separately to find their fortunes far away. When they returned (curiously, at the very same time) one of them had become a firm believer in Catholicism, the other was a staunch Protestant. Foolishly starting a conversation about religion (surely a renowned topic to avoid) and finding they could not agree, they took the obvious decision to draw swords and sort it out in a duel (Jesus would be so proud). Naturally they both suffered a mortal blow and died – just on the spots where the two stones are, which were erected by the local people in memory of them. To place further burden on our credulity and add another popular theme it is also said that the brothers did not recognise each other when reunited (until, no doubt, just before they expired). I must be turning into a cynic.

***

This may well be the source, from a 1930 excursion of the Berwickshire Naturalists’ Club:

The party then drove to Brotherstone farm, from where a short walk was taken to the two tall Greenstone Monoliths, from which hill and farm take their name. The rain ceased just long enough for this to be done in moderate comfort, but much of the fine view – practically the whole of the Merse to Berwick, the Lammermoors, Lauderdale, and the valleys of Tweed and Teviot – which lies spread out before the eyes on a clear day, was lost in heavy cloud.

The Rev. W.S. Crockett, D.D., said the Brotherstones must have stood there for a thousand years. They are one hundred yards apart, and might mark the burial place of some ancient chieftain. Some people held that the stones marked the site of a battle, but history made no mention of a battle ever having been fought there.

Local tradition held that the two stones were erected because of an incident that took place in Covenanting times. It was said that two brothers, having fought in foreign wars, returned home, and meeting on the top of the hill began an argument on theology. They grew so angry with one another that swords were drawn, and they fought until one was fatally wounded. It was only then, as he cried out his name, that the survivor realised he had killed his own brother. Dr Crockett pointed out, however, that long before Covenanting times the name “Brotherstone” appeared in the charters of Dryburgh Abbey as far back indeed as 1150.

A link to the journal is here.

The Witching Stone was pointed out to me by an elderly relative on the occassion of scattering the ashes of my mother in law over her favourite childhood beach.
He told me that as children playing nearby they would always take a wide berth to avoid this stone as it had a sinister and frightening aspect.
I can find no listing of this stone in my OS disc nor of the name of the adjoing beach known by him as Curragh Beach, therefore the OS location given is only a questimate.

The narrow waists of the stones, where they meet the soil, have are partly responsible for a pseudonym, ‘The Women’. This, combined with the whistling of the wind through the fluted grooves, has caused this to be extended to ‘The Singing Women’.

Woodhenge’s potential as something that little bit different (ultimately a mad site full of wooden posts) was spotted from the air by a chap called Insall, and it was excavated by Maud Cunnington in the 1920s. Before this it was known as ‘The Dough Cover’ – its low bank and vaguely domed middle looked like the wooden lid of a bread dough dish (like wot people used to prove their bread in before Mother’s Pride was invented).

(mentioned by Mike Pitts in his ‘Hengeworld’)

The following was written by Thomas Hardy (he quotes from an account of 1706), printed in the Times in 1908.

“...Maumbury was the scene of as sinister an event as any associated with it.. which darkens its concave to this day. This was the death suffered there on March 21, 1705-06, of a girl who had not yet reached her nineteenth year.. This girl was the wife of a grocer in the town, a handsome young woman “of good natural parts,” and educated “to a proficiency suitable enough to one of her sex, to which likewise was added dancing.” She was tried and condemned for poisoning her husband, a Mr Thomas Channing, to whom she had been married against her wish by the compulsion of her parents.

“The present writer has examined more than once a report of her trial, and can find no distinct evidence that the thoughtless, pleasure-loving creature committed the crime, while it contains much to suggest that she did not. Nor is any motive discoverable for such an act. She was allowed to have her former lover or lovers about her by her indulgent and weak-minded husband, who permitted her to go her own ways, give parties, and supplied her with plenty of money. However [at the assizes] she was found guilty after a trial in which the testimony chiefly went to show her careless character before and after marriage.. She conducted her own defence with the greatest ability, and was complimented thereupon by Judge Price.. but he did not extend his compliment to a merciful summing up.

“When sentence was about to be passed, she pleaded her condition [she was ‘soon to become a mother’]; and execution was postponed. [She gave birth in gaol to a son in December].

“Her execution was fixed for the 21st [and] on that day two men were hanged before her turn came, and then, “the under sheriff having taken some refreshment,” he procedded to his biggest and last job with this girl not yet 19, now reduced to a skeleton by a long fever, and already more dead than alive...

“When fixed to the stake she justified her innocence to the very last, and left the world with a courage seldom found in her sex. She being first strangled, the fire was kindled about five in the afternooon, and in the sight of many thousands she was consumed to ashes.”

“There is nothing to show she was dead before the burning began, and from the use of the word ‘strangled’ and not ‘hanged’ it would seem that she was merely rendered insensible before the fire was lit. An ancestor of the present writer, who witnessed the scene, has handed down the information that “her heart leapt out” during the burning, and other curious details that cannot be printed here. Was man ever slaughtered by his fellow man during the Roman or barbarian use of this place of games or of sacrifice in circumstances of greater atrocity?”

In ‘Thomas Hardy’s Personal Writings’ ed. Harold Orel. Macmillan 1967

According to George Osborn (in ‘Ancient Dorset’), 10,000 people gathered to see this poor woman burn to death. Delightful behaviour. They probably thought it an excellent day out. You can imagine the fast food stalls and people selling the equivalent of t-shirts.

The name has been attributed in recent times as the memory of five brothers who owned adjacent patches of land.

Other explanations, making reference to the inclusion of Denmark in the title, have drawn connections with Morte d’Arthur, where Five Danish Kings apparently do battle with some of the roundtablers.

There are three tall stones at Carse, all aligned East-West – a pair (8 and 10ft tall) eight feet apart and a third (8ft) 130 yards to the NNW. Miss Campbell, in a little magazine ‘The Kist” 8 (1974), relates how she visited the stones close to the Vernal Equinox and saw the setting sun dip into the hill directly over the singleton, when viewed from between the pair. She also mentions a long stone she found lying half buried in the grass near the field –gate leading to the pair of stones, and suggested this could have been another stone in the setting.

Miss Campbell’s researches showed that at some date before 1864, drainers apparently found ‘portions of thin Plates of Bronze, with embossed chevrony patterns, perforated’, at the base of one of the standing stones. These were presented by a Mrs Campbell (perhaps her ancestor) to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, but when Miss M went to investigate she unfortunately found nothing in the box where they were supposed to be.

She talks of other local landmarks: the rocky outcrop overlooking the stones is known as Sron a’Mhionnain (’Cursing Nose’) and condemned criminals were supposed to have been hurled from it. Below stood Clach a’Bhreitheamh (the Judge’s Stone) which was a large boulder with a ‘natural seat and canopy’. A drawing was made by the then Minister, but the chair was broken up in the 1890s for road-metal: “only its stump remains near the road”.

She then tells a local legend which incorporates many local landmarks – a true hidden geography of the area. It is about a stand-off between two clans, perhaps the MacIvers and the MacNeills (and is even more detailed than my précis below). The MacNeills have raided the MacIvers’ cattle near Loch Fyne and are making off up the Stronachullin, the old drove road that goes over Sliabh Gaoil, high above the springs of the Lergnahension river. They are on the downhill stretch back towards the sea, but the MacIvers catch them up at Carse. The fighting starts on the plain around the Stones. The MacIvers have a trick up their sleeves – they have brought their Wise Old Woman with them: but she can only work her magic from horseback. Naturally the MacNeills try to drag her to the ground. The MacIvers yell “Cur a’Chailleach air a capull!” – get the Old One back on her Mare!

The Wise Woman (being wise) decides not to hang about – she clings to her mare and makes for a notch in hill on the western skyline, ‘Creag a’Stars’. On reaching it the horse leaps into the sky and they gallop away.
On one side of the road up to the notch there is a ledge that is always full of pebbles. People throw the pebbles from the roadside for a wish (three shots are allowed, white pebbles are advised, and the wish is granted if you can get a stone to stay on the ledge). There is also a hollow up here (Slochd na Chapuill) which was renowned for its unpredictable effect on horses (“it is honestly advisable to dismount and lead a pony through it”) and another called Glac na h’Iomarte: the hollow of the conflict.

Unfortunately at the loss of their Wise Woman the determination of the MacIvers wavered. In Celtic stylee at least one of their heads was ceremonially cut off by the other clan and ritually washed in the deep pool, Slochd na Cinn (’the pool of the head’): today you can see fish leaping here towards the upper falls of the river.

“Luath’s Stone on the hillside some distance north of Whitehouse Station on the Alford railway, is reputed to mark the site of the death of “Luath,” said to be a son of Macbeth.
Some doubt must attach to the tradition, which is repeated in connection with another site a good many miles away; even the existence of a son so-called is doubtful. The colour of the stone suggests that the present name may have been derived from the Gaelic word liath, meaning “grey”—the “Grey Stone” and nothing more”.

Source
Folklore of the Aberdeen Stone Circles and Standing Stones by James Ritchie
Proceedings of The Society of Antiquities of Scotland. Vol LX.20
May 10 1926