As mentioned in the folklore section for the Dunning Stone, in 965 A.D. the Battle of Duncrub was fought on land to the north of the village. This stone is supposed to mark where the Mormaor (Steward) of Atholl died of his wounds, following this battle.
This stone is said to be where Doncha, the Abbot of Dunkeld was slain during the battle of Duncrub, fought in AD 965 between rival factions of the royal line after the death of Kenneth Macalpin in 859.
Apparently the Hag Calliagh Berra bewitched Finn MacCool. She persuaded him to dive into the lake to find her gold ring. When he emerged he had fallen under her evil spell, and had been turned into an old man with white hair. He eventually got her to remove the spell, although his hair remained white!
Ultach Fhinn translates as Fingal’s armful, or lift. It’s a pretty big armful – this recumbent stone is 23 feet long, up to 6 and a half foot wide, and 16 inches thick, aligned roughly north to south.
CANMORE records that it lies in the centre of a shapeless, heather-covered mound of earth and stone, but whether it is a cairn can’t be told without an excavation. There are cavities below the stone which have obviously been used as a shelter in times gone by. Judging from the map this must be a fairly impressive location – the site overlooks Loch Caravat.
Grinsell (in ‘folklore of prehistoric sites in Britain’) tells us that there is a 30cm by 10cm indentation on the stone – which is Fingal’s thumb mark.
Not only related to this mound and stone, but to the three surviving burial monuments in the Bolam area. Recent folklore reports the appearance of a hairy anthropoid, in the Yeti/Sasquatch style. It has been suggested by some researchers into such phenomena, that reports of this kind of creature are related to transient electrical phenomena emanating from faultlines in the bedrock.
Others have suggested that prehistoric monuments are also related to faultlines (not leylines). Perhaps there’s a fault in the Bolam area that ties these reports of creatures with the prehistoric monuments in the vicinity. (mebbe!). I have chosen to believe that a combination of these ideas, combined with the presence of iron in the bedrock, is what played havoc with the memory card in my camera. As the closeup of an iron nodule on the Man was wiped, and other images on the card were scrambled. Spooky action at a distance? Or an overactive imagination?
It’s thought perhaps that the famous ‘Screaming Skull’ of Bettiscombe Manor is the remains of one of the original (prehistoric) inhabitants of Pilsdon Pen. You can read more at Castle of Spirits.
or get the lowdown from Mr Udal here:
https://www.archive.org/stream/proceedings31dorsuoft#page/176/mode/1up
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Janet and Colin Bord (in Prehistoric Britain from the Air) describe how inside one of the excavated huts on Pilsdon was a crucible, with beads of gold still attached: a goldsmith’s workshop.
This fine standing stone is believed to have been erected by Saint Patrick.
In his book A Guide to the Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany (ISBN: 0-300-06331-8) Aubrey Burl alludes to a tale about a ghostly army of horsemen that has been glimpsed riding by the circle.
In his book The Spirit Paths of Wales (ISBN: 1-85284-289-X) Laurence Main describes Maen Serth:
Maen Serth (Steep Stone) is a prominent standing stone which stands 7ft 2ins high, 6ins thick and 1ft 8ins broad, at an altitude of 15000ft. It was erected in the Bronze Age and had a cross carved on it around AD 800. The Welsh chieftain of Elvel, Einion Clud, was murdered by the English here in a tournament in the late 12th century.
Main writes confidently about this site and others, but doesn’t include any of his sources.
On the BBC web site (see the link below) a short article by Roger Hulm gives a more detailed account of the legend, this time identifying the murderer as Roger Mortimer (a Norman):
The story goes that in the late 12th century, there was a dispute over the land surrounding Rhayader between the Norman ‘Marcher’ Lord, Roger Mortimer, and the Welsh chieftains – Rhys ap Gruffydd and the two brothers, Cadwallon and Einon Clud. During a temporary ‘lull’ in hostilities, at Christmas 1176, these men had gathered at Rhys’ castle to feast and joust.
At the jousting event, the Welshman Einon Clud defeated Roger Mortimer but the Norman was a bad sportsman. He ambushed Einon on the hill above Rhayader and killed him as he was returning home. A short time later, the other brother was also ambushed by Mortimer on the same hill and killed.
It was said that Maen Serth was the place of the double killing which has given another local name to the stone – the ‘Princes’ Stone’.
Text as visited 23rd March 2006.
In his book A Guide to the Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany (ISBN: 0-300-06331-8) Aubrey Burl writes (citing Briggs as his source),
It may be no more than coincidence that the church [Ysbytty Cynfyn] is only 1 and a half miles north Devil’s Bridge over the River Mynach where the Devil was tricked by an old woman who saved her soul by sending her little dog to cross the bridge before her.
I’m inclined to think that it is no more than coincidence, as the connection between Bronze Age Ysbytty Cynfyn and Devil’s Bridge (Pontarfynach) is a bit tenuous. Cope makes a similar connection between the two places, but it’s not clear why.
Robert Chambers had another explanation for the hill (related in his ‘Picture of Scotland’ of 1827).
Michael Scot was an infamous magician in these parts – and he had three demons who served him: Prig, Prim and Pricker. They were such a nuisance that he had to keep them continually busy. After he’d got them to cleft the Eildon Hills and bridle the Tweed with a curb of stone, he got them twisting ropes of sand. And when they’d done that, he commanded them to level Largo Law. However, they’d only just started – chucking one shovelful, which landed to form Norrie’s Law – when they were called away to do something else.
Here is another story connected to the Fairy Knowe, from Robert Chambers in his 1826 ‘Popular Rhymes of Scotland’.
There was once an honest miller who lived in Menstrie. He had a pretty wife whom he loved very much. She was so beautiful that she took the fancy of the fairies who lived in the Fairy Knowe, and they took her away to live with them. It was bad enough for the miller to be without her: but every morning, although he couldn’t see her, he could hear her singing.
She sang:
“O! Alva woods are bonnie
Tillicoultry hills are fair
But when I think on the braes o’ Menstrie
It makes my heart aye sair”
One day he was ‘riddlin’ some chaff at the door of his mill when he just happened to move into a particular posture: “as the hens do in rainy weather”. Unknown to him this was a magical gesture, and the enchantment which bound his wife was immediately broken – suddenly there she was beside him once more.
Nennius wrote in c800 of one of the marvels of Wales:
There is [in the region which is called Buelt] a heap of stones, and one stone superposed on the pile with the footprint of a dog on it. When he hunted the boar Troynt, Cabal, who was the dog of Arthur the soldier, impressed his footprint on the stone, and Arthur afterwards collected a pile of stones under the stone [...] and it is called Carn Cabal. And men come and carry the stone in their hands for a day and a night, and on the morrow it is found upon its pile.
The hunt is described in Culhwch and Olwen. Culhwch is determined to catch the boar because it is the only way he can win permission from Olwen’s father to marry her. The boar, Twrch Trwyth and his seven piglets are pretty wily and it’s supposed to be an impossible task, but with help from Arthur and his men he manages to accomplish it. At some cost though, as Arthur’s sons were killed in the process. You can see the monument to their bravery at Cerrig Meibion Arthur.
In the 1840s, Lady Charlotte Guest, a translator of the Mabinogion, realised where Nennius’s cairn existed. She ‘prevailed upon a gentlemen’ to go and check it out. He wrote the following account, which I found on the Clwyd and Powys Archaeological Trust website.
“Carn Cavall, or, as it is generally pronounced, Corn Cavall, is a lofty and rugged mountain, in the upper part of the district anciently called Buellt, now written Builth, in Breconshire. Scattered over this mountain are several cairns of various dimensions, some of which are of very considerable magnitude, being at least a hundred and fifty feet in circumference. On one of these carns may still be seen a stone, so nearly corresponding with the description in Nennius, as to furnish strong presumption that it is the identical as to furnish strong presumption that it is the identical object referred to. It is near two feet in length, and not quite a foot wide, and such as a man might, without any great exertion, carry away in his hands. On the one side is an oval indentation, rounded at the bottom, nearly four inches long by three wide, about two inches deep, and altogether presenting such an appearance as might, without any great strain of imagination, be thought to resemble the print of a dog’s foot . . . As the stone is a species of conglomerate, it is possible that some unimaginative geologist may persist in maintaining that this footprint is nothing more than the cavity, left by the removal of a rounded pebble, which was once embedded in the stone.”
To confuse matters, ‘caballus’ in Latin (the language Nennius was writing in) is actually a horse. So perhaps it’s Arthur’s horse’s footprint you should be looking for.
The Giant Rombald was said to have both knocked the calf rock from the Cow and Calf and left his foot print in Almscliffe Crag in one great step over Wharfedale whilst escaping the wrath of his wife.
As Almscliffe lies vaguely North West of the Cow and Calf, this could be a folk memory of a summer solstice sunrise alighnment?
In 1802 the Reverend John Skinner reported that this was Branwen’s grave – the same story as told at Bedd Branwen.
(mentioned in Jennifer Westwood’s ‘Albion’ p267)
This is the grave of Branwen, the daughter of Llyr. She was the ‘fairest damsel in the world’. Well, at least Anglesey I expect. Her story is told in the Mabinogion and you can read it here at the sacred texts archive:
sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/mab/mab22.htm
Let me summarise it for you: One day, the Irish King, Matholwch, came sailing over to Wales. He intended to make an alliance with the people there and to marry the beautiful Branwen. He was obviously a very important man with some impressive ships and the marriage was agreed by the family. That night there was a huge feast, loads of beer was flowing and everybody had a super time. However, the next day one of Branwen’s other brothers, who had not been present earlier, turned up. He was unimpressed by the arrangements that had been made without him, and carried out some rather unpleasant revenge on Matholwch’s horses (you don’t want to know). Matholwch was outraged and insulted and was about to leave without the usual pleasantries when Bran, another of Branwen’s brothers, called him back to smooth things over. He gave Matholwch his greatest treasure – a cauldron that could bring the dead back to life (albeit they wouldn’t be able to speak). So Matholwch went back to Ireland happy again and with his new wife.
For a year Branwen had the utmost respect in the Irish court, but then various stirrers started getting at Matholwch, saying that he shouldn’t have let her brother get away with what had happened. Poor Branwen was sent to work in the kitchens where the cook used to box her ears. She was stuck there for three years but eventually managed to tame a starling which flew a letter back to Bran for her. Bran and his army rushed to Ireland to rescue here. In the ensuing battle Bran was killed and his head was taken to the White Mound – now, the tower of London (’white’ also means ‘holy’ in Welsh, as I suppose it implies purity in English). Branwen blamed the entire mess on herself. She died of a broken heart and was buried under the cairn you see today.
So they cut off [her brother, Bendigeid Vran’s] head, and these seven went forward therewith. And Branwen was the eighth with them, and they came to land at Aber Alaw, in Talebolyon, and they sat down to rest. And Branwen looked towards Ireland and towards the Island of the Mighty, to see if she could descry them. “Alas,” said she, “woe is me that I was ever born; two islands have been destroyed because of me!” Then she uttered a loud groan, and there broke her heart. And they made her a four-sided grave, and buried her upon the banks of the Alaw.
The stone is embedded in the ground close to a hedge abutting on the road, and stands on end with the upper part bent. The legend runs that one night a man entered Llandyfrydog church and stole the Bible or church books. On coming out he went along the road with the books on his back, when he saw a person coming towards him, and he turned into the field to avoid him, where for his sacrilege he was transformed into a stone.
Every Christmas Eve when the stone hears the clock strike twelve it moves round the field three times. It is called Lleidr Llandyfrydog, i.e. the Llandyfrydog Thief, and the field name given above, when translated, means the Thiefs Field. The stone bears a very rude resemblance to a man with his back bent under the weight of some load.
R. P. HAMPTON ROBERTS.
From Notes and Queries, December 27th, 1879.
Wirt Sikes (’British Goblins’ 1880) says the thief must stand here until the last trump sets him free on Judgement Day.
Charlotte Burne (in Shropshire Folklore, 1883) related that:
There used to be more stones than there are now, but they have been taken away at one time or another. There was a farmer lived by there, and he blew up some of them and took away the pieces to put round his horsepond, but he never did no good after.
Once upon a time two giants lived in this area: one on Windover Hill and the other on Firle Beacon. They didn’t get on and one day their quarrelling got out of hand. They started throwing huge great rocks at each other – the Windover giant caught one right on his head and fell to the ground, dead. You can see the marks where they hurled the rocks to this day (some boring people will say they’re actually flint mines though). As the giant lay there people drew round him to produce a lasting memorial to him(that’s what the Long Man really is), and then he was hauled up the hill and buried in Hunter’s Burgh longbarrow. {or is it in the one on Firle beacon?}
(theme in Jennifer Westwood’s ‘Albion’. She also includes the following local rhyme, which predicts the weather in Alciston:)
When Firle Hill and Long Man has a cap
We a A’ston gets a drap
I was reading about this stone in ‘Holy Wells of the Bath and Bristol Region’ by Phil Quinn. It’s my pure speculation, but it could be relevant that the stone was situated by the pool – that is, perhaps the pool was the original place of veneration. The pool (now filled in) and stone were to the north-east of the church. I do realise they have to be in some direction, but it did remind me of the Rudstone Monolith which is also to the north of its church. And if it’s a genuine standing stone, it can hardly be a coincidence that they chose to build the church next to it, recognising its importance in some way.
In 1538, Leland (who was the king’s antiquary – what a position) wrote:
“It is of sum caullid the Round Table, and of sum, Arture’s Castel.”
In 1724 Stukeley said “The site is used to this day for a country rendez-vous, either for sports or for military exercises, shooting with bows, etc.”
The Cumberland historian Hutchinson was told by villagers in 1773 that the place was an ancient tilting yard where jousts had once been held. He said wrestling matches had taken place there within living memory.
info in Marjorie Rowling’s ‘Folklore of the Lake District’ (1976).
Jennifer Westwood in ‘Albion’ mentions this folklore (p398) – which in her words ‘smacks of Druidism’ and hence probably Victorian fantasy. But it’s a nice one.
At sunrise on Midsummer Day the ‘Shining One’ was said to walk along the avenue. His coming was heralded by the call of the cuckoo – the bird of Tir Nan Og, the Celtic land of youth.
{In your fieldnotes, didn’t you hear the cuckoo before your visit, TomBo?!}
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And with regard to how Callanish was made –
A priest-king came to the island bringint the stones with him and black men to raise them. He was attended by other priests and all were adorned with bird skins and feathers.
When King Fergus defeated and killed Coel, King of the Britons, he was buried in a mound topped with stones – which is now in the grounds of Coilsfield House. There are many different spellings of his name, which presumably all derive from the same figure: Cul, Coel, Coil, Cole... (maybe deriving from the celtic god of war?)
Robert Burns knew this version of the rhyme:
Our auld King Coul was a jolly auld soul
and a jolly auld soul was he
Our auld King Coul fill’d a jolly brown bowl
and he called for his fiddlers three
Fidell didell, fidell didell quo’ the fiddlers
There’s no lass in a’ Scotland like our sweet Marjorie
(from Westwood’s ‘Albion’)
Another story connected with Willy Howe – in Jennifer Westwood’s ‘Albion’ (and originally from ‘Hone’s Table Book of 1827). I retell it as a warning to you all to respect the fairies.
One of the fairies who lived in Willy Howe had rather a crush on a local man. She wanted to help him, so she told him that if he came to the top of the Howe early every morning he would find a guinea waiting for him. However, he must never tell anyone where he got his money from.
For some time he did exactly as she said, and as his money grew he was able to live comfortably (and finally maybe a bit too comfortably). His friends were surprised and suspicious at his new found wealth, and couldn’t understand why he was so secretive about its source. Eventually one night the man could keep his secret no longer and told one of his friends. In the morning he took his friend to the hill to show him the guinea that would be there. Of course there was no money at all. He ‘met with a severe punishment’ and was beaten up by invisible fists. For ever after that he found he had lost his luck.
Obtrusch is a Bronze Age round cairn on Rudland Rigg, positioned so it looks on the skyline from round about. It has kerb stones and a central cist; nearby to the southeast there’s another smaller cairn.
It used to be known as Obtrush Rook (or Roque) in the nineteenth century – the Home of Hobthrush. Hobthrush was of course a hob (like a brownie) – the other part of the name may come from ‘thurs’ which is an old english word for a devil or giant.