Latest Folklore

The name Bulstrode, with its apparent reference to bulls, gave rise to the improbable legend that the Saxon Shobbington family resisted the Norman Conquest by attacking the Normans riding astride bulls. The story can be found in Lipscomb (George Lipscomb – The History and Antiquities of the County of Buckingham [1847]). Shobbington was supposedly supported by the Penn and Hampden families. According to James Joseph Sheahan (James Joseph Sheahan – History and Topography of Buckinghamshire [1862] p. 832) Bulstrode Camp was the remains of entrenchments used by Shobbington. This opinion is not too surprising, as people did not realise that hillforts were pre-Roman British fortifications until the late C19. In fact the name Bulstrode probably means ‘the marsh belonging to the fort’ and has no connection with cattle.

According to Keith Branigan (Keith Branigan – The Archaeology of the Chilterns from the Ice Age to the Norman Conquest [Chess Valley Archaeological and Historical Society, 1994], pp. 52-3) it is likely that one of the main functions of Chiltern hillforts was “to serve as secure centres for the storage of grain and stock”.

The alternative name comes about because St.Magnus was held to have used it as a boat .

“King Eric was treacherously killed by Earl Maccus in a certain lonely place which is called Stainmore, with his son Haeric and his brother Ragnald, betrayed by Earl Oswulf, and then afterwards King Eadred ruled in these districts”.
Flowers of the Histories
Roger of Wendover

In his book “In Search of The Dark Ages"Michael Wood describes Eric as “The last king of the Northumbrian race”

A few more quotes relating to Rey Cross and Stainmore.

“Here was the boundary between the ‘Westmoringas’ and the Northumbrians, the old Glasgow diocesan border, and before that the frontier of the Cumbrians and the Northumbrians. The place is marked by the stump of a cross still called rey Cross, from the Norse word hreyrr, meaning boundary.
Some seventy years ago Prof. W. Collingwood identified this as an English-style cross with figured decoration, and suggests that it was done by an English sculptor and commisioned by sympathisers in York to commemorate their king”.

“Eric’s other monument survives in a more intelligible form. When his wife and family fled by sea from York to Orkney, a poet in their entourage composed his epitaph, the Eiriksmal. It is redolent of the old Scandanavian world, thoroughly pagan, soaked in the shamanistic inspiration of Odin”.

“The lost History of the Ancient Northumbrians ended with Eric’s death, and was rounded off with the king lists; ‘Ever since, the Northumbrians have been mouring their lost liberty.’ And of course, some of them still do!”

All Quotes from
In Search of the Dark Ages
Michael Wood
Published by BBC Books
1987

According to Shapwick inhabitant Stephen’s (now defunct) website, the mounds here – or perhaps rather their high-status occupants – are known as the Three Kings.

Only one barrow is visible, but there are three round barrows here. Unfortunately two of them are now tucked under the spoil mound of a reservoir, but according to the Scheduled Monument record, they are untouched and safe under there.

Folklore in Box tells us they are the burial mounds of three kings.

A possible alignment for the Ring of Brodgar , this was one of the stopping-off points in the procession of St.Magnus’ remains from Birsay to Kirkwall .

Richard Holland’s 1989 book ‘Supernatural Clwyd’ gives these details of the folklore. These stories “supposedly” predate the discovery of the cape.

It seems that Bryn-yr-Ellyllon was the name given to the hill approaching Pentre. In 1830 a farmer’s wife was returning up it from Mold market when her horse began to get jumpy. She saw lights in the woods to her right and wondered if a fire had started in them. Suddenly a huge figure wearing golden armour strode out of the woods – he was shining with the weird golden light. He crossed in front of her and straight into the barrow on the opposite side of the road. Immediately the golden light disappeared.

The farmer’s wife pulled herself together and rode to the Rev. Charles Butler Clough’s vicarage. He took her statement and got two people to witness it. (He printed it in the 1861 book ‘Scenes and Stories Little Known.’) He did some more research and found that the barrow itself was known as Tomen yr Ellyllon, and that it was regarded as haunted and a place people avoided. An old man who lived nearby told him of Brenin yr Allt, the King of the Hillside. The field in which the mound lay was supposedly called Cae’r Yspryd (Field of the Ghost).

He also discovered there had been sightings in the previous century (look, this is a man of the cloth we’re talking about – would he lie for a good story?). A girl called Nancy had seen the spectre standing on the mound twice, and another woman who’d seen it had apparently gone mad for seven years. It was, she said ‘All glittering and shining in gold’. The story at icNorth Wales here mentions that Nancy was rather relieved when the gold cape was found, because it collaborated her story (and no doubt reassured her that she wasn’t totally bonkers). She felt that the ghost wouldn’t be seen again – which it wasn’t.

Various stories surround what happened after the barrow was broken into. It’s known that many of the amber beads found their way home in people’s pockets. One woman who took some home for her young daughter heard stamping feet at her cottage that night, and an invisible hand knocked on the doors and windows. Reluctantly she took the beads back and threw them on the remains of the barrow.

It is also said that many of the wedding rings handed down in Mold are made from melted gold from Bryn yr Ellyllon, though no associations with bad luck were mentioned with these.

One of the slabs from the tomb is said to be the first of the steps up the Bailey Hill in the centre of Mold.

Holland includes a photo of the house which was built on the site. A plaque is cemented into its garden wall commemorating the barrow and its find. It claims that the tomb was the burial place of the giant prince Benlli Gawr... but that’s a different story.

(However, there are discrepancies in Holland’s tale – he claims the book mentioned was written by the Reverend himself, but it was actually his wife.. so who knows what other aspects are factually a bit suspect. Still, it’s all folklore isn’t it – including the way new retellings get incorporated with the old ones. Nothing should come in the way of a good story).

I don’t know where Talorcan got his story from, but it’s not the one I know.

The King’s Stone marks the spot where a Scottish peasant farmer was ennobled following the Battle of Luncarty, c 990 AD. He and his sons assisted the Scots forces, by blocking the flight of some of the Danes using a large yoke, allowing them to be cut down by the pursuing Scots. Exhausted by his endeavours, the elderly man sat with his back to the stone, puffing and panting – “Hey, hey”. The King, impressed by his efforts, was alleged to have said “Hech hey, say ye, and Hay shall ye be”. He was gifted the lands between the Hawk Stane and the Falcon Stone for his efforts.

I spoke to the farmer here today, and that’s the story he was told by his grandfather. He even pointed to the low ridge to the north of the stone, and told me that he was told this was the hill the Scots forces charged down in pursuit of the Danes.

The stone is claimed to spin round three times on New Year’s Eve. It is said to be named after a milk-maid who died whilst carrying milk to the villages here. There is also a legend that a penny placed on the stone will bring good luck.

Barclodiad-y-Gawres means, as has been mentioned by others here, “The Giantess’ Apronful”. The folklore behind this name describes how two giants, husband and wife, were on their way to Anglesey, where they intended to build themselves a house. The husband was carrying two large boulders, which he intended to use as door-posts, and the wife had filled her apron with smaller stones. When they reached Bwlch-y-Ddeufaen (“The Pass of the Two Stones”) they met a cobbler, coming in the opposite direction, and so they asked him how far they still had to travel to reach Mona. With a mischevious look in his eye he showed them the numerous pairs of worn-out shoes he was carrying (he was a cobbler, after all) and told them he had worn all of these out walking from there. The giantess and her husband were so horrified at this news that they threw down the stones they were carrying, in this way creating Barclodiad-y-Gawres.

Dr Clay supplied his first-hand account of the story to L V Grinsell for his book ‘The Archaeology of Wessex’ (p57).

‘During the winter of 1927/8 when Dr R C C Clay was excavating the Pokesdown urnfield, he met with the following experience. One night he was returning from Pokesdown to his home at Fovant and proceeding in his car along the road from Cranborne to Handley, when about 150 yards past Squirrel’s Corner he saw a horseman on the downs to the north-east, travelling in the same direction as himself.

“Thinking he was from the Training Stables at Nine Yews, I took very little notice of him at first. Suddenly he turned his horse’s head and galloped as if to reach the road ahead, before my car arrived there. I was so interested that I changed gear to slow my car’s speed in order that we should meet, and I should be able to find out why he had taken this sudden action. Before I had drawn level with him, he turned his horse’s head again to the north, and galloped along parallel to me about 50 yards from the road. I could see now see that he was no ordinary horseman, for he had bare legs, and wore a long, loose coat. The horse had a long mane and tail, but I could see no bridle or stirrups. The rider’s face was turned towards me, but I could not see his features. He seemed to be threatening me with some implement which he waved in his right hand above his head. I tried hard to identify the weapon, for I suddenly realised that he was a prehistoric man; but I failed. It seemed to be on a two foot shaft. After travelling parallel to my car for about 100 yards, the rider and horse suddenly vanished. I noted the spot, and the next day found at the spot a low round barrow.”

‘A few years later, the late Alexander Keiller reported to Dr Clay that two girls, returning from Cranborne to Handley from a dance, had complained to the policeman at Handley that they had been followed and frightened by a man on horseback. Within the last thirty years [since 1958] there have been other reports, from shepherds and others, of apparitions having been seen in the vicinity of Bottlebush Down.‘

from a letter in the Scots Magazine, Nov 1985:

Sixty years ago I used to go for holidays in Aberdeenshire with my grandparents. Grandfather was a shepherd in the Glen O’ Noth, Gartly. There was an old stone standing in a field on New Noth Farm which I passed every day when going for milk. It was supposed to mark the grave of an old warrior. The story I was told was that one year they were building a new cow house and took the stone to use as a lintel. The first night after the cows were shut in, they made a great rumpus. The farmer and my grandfather went out the next night to stand guard with guns. They never told what they heard or saw, but the stone was taken out and put back in the field.

Mrs Kathleen Davidson

Ruth Tongue (County Folk Lore v 8) quotes an informant at Ashridge in 1907:

“There be a bit of verse as do go:
“If Dolbury digged were
Of gold should be the share.”
but nobody hasn’t found the treasure yet. And for why? Well, to start up with it don’t belong to they, and so they won’t never meet up with it. Twill go on sinking down below never mind how deep they do dig. I tell ‘ee tis the gold of they Redshanks as used to be seed on Dolbury top. To be sure there’s clever book-read gentlemen as tell as they was Danes, and another say twere all on account of their bare legs being red with the wind, but don’t mind they.

My granny she did tell they were fairies, and all dressed in red, and if so the treasure med be theirs. If they was Danes how do ‘ee explain all they little clay pipes as ‘ee can find on Dolbury Camp. They did call em ‘fairy pipes’ old miners did. An’ if there be fairy pipes, then there was fairies, and nobody need doubt they was the Redshanks.”

(taken from ‘A dictionary of fairies’ by Katherine Briggs)

Grinsell records an earlier instance of the couplet, from 1540, when it was recorded by Leland.

(Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain)

With the weather forecasters telling us that the whole country was to be in the grip of an Ice Age by mid week I headed for subtropical St Ives. My partner had a two day conference to go to so I thought I would join her and get in some walking at the same time.

Tuesday 27th Jan 2004

Drove out of St Ives a couple of miles to the hamlet of Towednack. In the porch of the church on the right is a recumbent stone that according to Ian Cooke’s guide to the Tinners Way came from Crete in 2000-1500BC.
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Left the church and took the footpath heading west to Beagletodn. Just after the house a gate on the right (padlocked) has to be climbed over so a track can be followed.

You will find in these two walks that I have not stuck to legal paths but made my own way over what is essentilly wild moorland. This is possible in mid January as the bracken has died down but even so I would reccomend wearing waterproof trousers and taking a stick.

The track twists its way amongst boulders and water features untill you come to a gate near the Pump House featured on the OS map. Go through the gate and turn right. You will soon find yourself walking up between two walls (not for the last time that you will be following ancient trackways). At the top of this track you come to another gate, once the other side of it it is time to head out over the moors towards Sperris Quoit.
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Known as one of the most elusive sites in Cornwall I battled my way through the bracken and gorse in a north westerly direction untill I saw the pile of rocks on the skyline. Don’t be mistaken by Sperris Croft, a smaller pile but nethertheless named on the OS map.

Reaching the rock piles you will get great views over to the coast and also of Zennor Hill. The quoit lays just to the south of the rocks and can be distinguished by one triangular upright. Even from here it is not easy to reach and requires some scrambling amongst the stones. Keep an eye out for the ancient stone wall that runs off to the SEast, did they use stones from the quoit in its construction?

Leaving the rocks walk towards the ruined mine building. Wheal Sperris was a small mine started in the early 1800’s, all around this area are open shafts, water channels and various holes in the ground. If you do leave the path, beware, it’s pretty uneven ground.

Zennor Quoit looms on the horizon to the SWest and the path is easy to follow.
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Once there I was undecided as to which way to go next, down to Zennor and the Tinners Arms, or onto other sites. The fact that I could see Mulfra Quoit on the horizon weighted my decision and I decided to head south along the old trackway before turning west to the Bishop’s Head and Foot boundry marker. This involved trudging through along muddy paths but the sense of space and the fact that the sun was shining made up for it. On the left hand side of the road beside Kerrowe Cottage is a stone with a nice carving on it, I don’t believe it tobe very old and judging by the “standing stones” opposit possibly a residents artwork.

Follow the tarmaced track to the road then carry on ahead to the “main” road. Cross the road and find the path that leads up over the northern saddle of Mulfra Hill. Yet again I decided to head out cross open moor and took myself off up the side of the hill. A couple of times I thought I had stuimbled across an unknown stone circle lying hidden in the gorse but decided my imagination was playing tricks. There is so much rock up there and at times you can trace a large arc between them, but never mind.

Eventually I picked up a path and found the quoit.
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I could not have asked for a better view, the Lizard stood out clear as a bell, St Michael’s Mount sat below me and the sun caught the roofs of Newlyn giving them a silver coating. Time for a cup of coffee and a rest.

I suddenly realised time was getting on and I was far from the car. A footpath supposedly runs east from here down to the road but somewhere along the way I lost it and just plunged down the hillside dwarfed by boulders before reaching a forest of Rhododendrons.

I had thought of visiting the Tyre Menhir but time was getting on so I headed to Tyre Farm and turned left along another muddy footpath. Reaching a large Badger holt the path carries on cross a field to a gate beside a small pond (puddle!). In the next field a new fence has been eracted and the route of the path is not clear. However what is marked on the OS map as a round wall around a shaft interested me, is it just a round wall or is it a hillfort?
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I climbed over the new fence at the far end of the field having decided there was no way through the hedge and skirted the pond before finding a rusty gate hidden in the undergrowth. It was impossible to open so I climbed over, disturbing a fox in the process. Turn left along the valley and you soon come back out onto the Kerrowe track, turn right.

THe simple way back from here is to follow the bridleway around the south side of Amalveor Downs to Embla Vean then by road to Towednack. I chose a slightly longer route heading more to the south but this did not include any sites of TMA interest except for a couple of tumuli sat overgrown in fields.

The walk took me about 5 hours including stops and it’s not just a trudge between quoits it’s a walk that offers lots more, space, views, and if like me you don’t meet anyone all day, solitude.

28th January 2004

Started day 2 at the carpark beside the engine houses of Carn Galver mine (on the B3306). It was here that my love affair with Penwith began. On a blustery day in Feb 1987 a friend gave me my introduction to rock climbing, if you want to get close to this landscape try hanging on to it by your fingers whilst the waves crash 200ft below you.

Today I head away from the sea, up the footpath/stream that runs along the west side of Carn Galver.
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I have been up amongst the rocks before so today I carry on to the crest of the hill untill I come to a crossroads of paths. Turning right brings me to the field in which the Maen Scryfa stands.
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Sadly the sun is right behind the stone so reading the inscription is not easy and photgraphing it impossible. I am struck by the contrast between lush green fields, stone walls and barren moorland. The dead bracken has turned much of the landscape a dull brown colour, only turning gold when the sun hits it at the right angle.

From the maen Scryffa it is a short walk to the men-an-tol, all is good there and after a short rest I carry on in the direction of Greenburrow Engine House (commonly known as Ding Dong).

Just after passing the little stream I noticed a pile of boulders on the right hand side. Amongst these and just beside the path is a square pit. Gorse and hawthorn grow out of it and it is full of water. I plunged my stick it and found it had a bottom, not far down. Like the “Hillfort” yesterday could this be an undiscovered cairn? or is it a mining relic, I will do some research and see what i can find out.

Ding Dong reached and explored (I wont bore you with mining details) I headed back towards Boskedndan circle.
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The footpath is thin and runs through gorse and bracken but by following the wall I found my way to a cairn on the south end of the ridge. This lays buried amongst gorse, but with most of the other bracken etc dead it was possible to make out the stones that form the cairn.

The ridge runs north towards Carn Galvers mighty south peak and the stone circle is soon reached. It is rather a wet area in winter and a couple of times I was glad of my stick and high sides of my boots. I missed the standing stone but did explore the tumuli at the north end of the ridge before charging out across the moor to Little Galver, the rocky luump to the east. This was hard going! I wouldn’t reccomend it but I had decided I wanted to visit the quoit at Bosporthennis.

After a lot of hard work I reahed the walls that surround the quoit. Wow! this is a stoney landscape but imagine how many stones were used to build these walls? Up to 4ft thick inplaces and about 5ft tall we marvel at what it took to build the monuments but think how much work went into building these. And how old are they? who knows, some say the field patterns down here date back to the bronze age.{17,18,19,20}}

Having visited the quoit I head back to the road down another vague footpath before following the road back to the car. Looks like I am in time for a pint and a bowl of fish soup at the Gurnards Head
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The farmsteading of Gormyre is said to have once had a ‘guid man’s croft‘, a triangle of land surrounded by a stone dyke and set aside “to give the devil his due”. This is a tradition common throughout Scotland and is also often associated with the ‘little people’ or ‘fairy folk’. Such sites can often be coincident with historic sites. The location is said to be on the hillside above Torphichen (Hendrie, 1986). This sounds like Gormyre Hill, which does support an earthwork.

References

Hendrie, William F. (1986) Discovering West Lothian, John Donald Publishers Ltd., Edinburgh

It is said that local lads and lassies used to plight their troth by clasping hands through the gap made by the two pieces of the split, top boulder.

Source: West Lothian District Council (198?), The Bathgate Hills, Robert MacLehose & Co. Ltd., Scotland

It is said that there was a third stone associated with this site standing where the farm of Clinkingstane was subsequently built. Local tradition has it that this was the trysting place of a young heiress and her lover who had a ‘lang pedigree’ but little in the way of wordly goods.

After failing to have the suitor transported to the colonies the girls father had an armed band slay him. After a desperate fight the ruffians fled as the heiress came upon them. Finding her lover murdered she is said to have died at his side of a broken heart.

A poem attributed to George E.S. Shanks of Whitburn, West Lothian commemorates the event and stone as follows:

One long embrace, one concious kiss,
And both our souls had fled,
And there beneath the Clinkin’ Stane,
Two lovers we lay dead.

Source: West Lothian District Council (198?), The Bathgate Hills, Robert MacLehose & Co. Ltd., Scotland

The word ‘Clink‘ in Scots can mean either of the following, some of which may be appropriate:

money, telltale, beat, snatch, compose, flinty rock

The geology of the area supports sedimentary rocks that could be construed as ‘flinty’.

Another name for the long barrow locally is the Giant’s Grave, not surprisingly.

“It is not many years since a man, who thought he was fully informed as to the spot in which a crock of the giant’s gold was buried, proceeded on one fine moonlight night to this enchanted hill, and with spade and pick commenced his search. He proceeded for some time without interruption, and it became evident to him that the treasure was not far off. The sky was rapidly covered with the darkest clouds, shutting out the brilliant light o the moon--which had previously gemmed each cairn--and leaving the gold-seeker in total and unearthly darkness. The wind rose, and roared terrifically amidst the rocks; but this was soon drowned amidst the fearful crashes of thunder, which followed in quick succession the flashes of lightning. By its light the man perceived that the spriggans were coming out in swarms from all the rocks. They were in countless numbers; and although they were small at first, they rapidly increased in size, until eventually they assumed an almost giant form, looking all the while, as he afterwards said, “as ugly as if they would eat him.” How this poor man escaped is unknown, but he is said to have been so frightened that he took to his bed, and was not able to work for a long time.”

You have been warned.

from “Popular Romances of the West of England, collected and edited by Robert Hunt [1903, 3rd edition]”
as seen at the Internet Sacred Text Archive sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/prwe/index.htm

“Is it a stone circle with a later burial cairn built inside it or is it simply a cairn with a permanent stone kerb?”

Don’t be daft. It’s Fingal’s Cauldron Seat, made by Finn McCool. He sat here while he cooked his tea.

There’s a holed stone in the outer circle – this is where he tied up his dog Bran, to stop him making off with the stew before it was cooked.

(from the Atlas of Magical Britain, by J+C Bord)

In one of the stones of Fion-gal’s cauldron seat – Suidhe choir Fhionn – there is a remarkable perforation, which was probably associated with some old superstition or religious ceremony, now forgotten. The hole is sufficiently large to admit the two fingers, and runs perpendicularly through the side of the column. Tradition relates that to this stone Fion-gal was wont to tie his favourite dog Bran.

From p55 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

From ‘Salopia antiqua’ by Charles Hartshorne (1841) p79:

“It is called ‘Hen Dinas’ or the old city; and anciently Caer Ogyrfan, or Ogyrfan’s Castle, who was a hero contemporary with King Arthur.”

– Ogyfan was the father of Guinevere, of the King Arthur myths.

You can read more about the legends at ‘buzzpages’ buzz-pages.com/features/oswestry/Fest2000/OldOS.htm
which has excerpts from the ‘History of Oswestry’ by a Mr Watkins.

As Earthstepper says, Dinas Bran has been suggested as the resting place of the holy grail – but this hill of the fairies is also connected with another treasure. Gold – maybe a golden harp, specifically – will be found by a boy who is led to it by his white dog with a silver eye. Dogs like that can see the wind, you know. Susan Cooper uses the theme in her book ‘The Grey King’.

It’s also possible that the St Collen story now associated with Glastonbury Tor ( themodernantiquarian.com/post/26342 ) was originally intended to be set somewhere round here (after all, St Collen spent plenty of time here and the town below, Llangollen, is named after him).

Janet and Colin Bord (in ‘Prehistoric Britain from the Air’) claim that people once tried to build a church on this site – but once they’d gone home for their teas the Devil pulled down what they’d built during the day (into the earth, one assumes – hence Sunken Kirk).

The stones that are left (in common with many other sites) are said to be countless.

Marjorie Rowling mentions in her ‘Folklore of the Lake District’ (1976) that the earliest source giving the name of the site is from 1642, when it was called ‘Chapel Sucken’ (sucked down or sunken down?)

John Wood (the one who designed Bath’s Crescent) wrote in 1750:
“No one, say the country people about Stantondrue, was ever able to reckon the number of the metaphosed stones, or to take a draught of them, though several have attempted to do both, and proceeded till they were either struck dead upon the spot, or with such an illness as soon carried them off.”

When he tried to count them (why oh why, considering the warning) a cloudburst followed.

(quoted by J and C Bord in ‘Prehistoric Britain from the air’)

The legend says that the pound got it’s name because St Neot sent all the crows in the parish here during sermons. Because of this the farmers in the region had no excuse to miss services.