Latest Folklore

Another story connected with Tan Hill is in Kathleen Wiltshire’s book ‘Ghosts and Legends of the Wiltshire Countryside’.
She collected it in person from the woman who experienced it, a Marney Gale (nee Wiltshire – perhaps a relative?).

Around 1962 or 1963 a schoolgirl of about 12 took her dog for a walk up on the downs, near the Wansdyke on Tan Hill. She eventually came across a house, and thinking she might see the occupants and say hello she walked into the yard. Chickens were scratching around, and a horse poked its head out over a stable half-door, but she couldn’t see anybody about. When she returned home she mentioned the place to her friends, but to her surprise no-one knew where she could be talking about, ‘not even the oldest shepherds’. Confused she later went back to search for the house, but couldn’t refind it. Soon her experience was put to the back of her mind, but a few years later she had a copy of an old book, and there in one of the illustrations was the house she had seen, which had once existed up on the hill.

Kathleen Wiltshire collected the following story, which is in her ‘Ghosts and Legends of the Wiltshire Countryside’:

She heard the story from Mrs Alice Maslen, of All Cannings, in about 1940. Her grandfather, George Tasker, was a shepherd. When he was young he was up on the downs working with an older shepherd, Tod Beake, and a young lad.

This night they were looking after their flocks just north of Tan Hill. Night had fallen and they were just settling down when they heard sounds like men and horses coming towards them along the Wansdyke. This (she says) would have been unusual enough during the day. The moon shone out from behind a cloud and the two men could see a party of figures carrying torches, walking behind a wagon drawn by black horses. On the wagon they could see a coffin strapped on, and lying on top of it a golden circle, perhaps a crown. The young lad hurriedly made his exit (’and never stopped running until he reached Cannings’), but the older men bravely stayed put. When the cortege drew level with them it vanished.

The experience understandably made the shepherds’ hair stand on end: “Me fustian cap rose right off me head” George told his family.

In the light of the BBCs recent ‘treasure hunting’ (hmm) programmes I am inclined to romantically interpret the ‘golden circle’ (strange to mention it in this way, as opposed to claiming definitely that it was a crown) as a lovely golden torc.

Kathleen continues: “When telling the above story to the Marlborough Townswomen’s Guild in 1969, a member told me how her father went courting her mother, and had to pass near the Wansdyke where it runs near the village of Huish [this is also on the edge of the hill, but further east than Tan Hill, beyond Knap Hill]. One night he saw the same funeral procession as had been described by the All Cannings’ shepherds. This would have happened [around 1880].”

In the 19th century, the stone at the end of the barrow was known as ‘Little Eve’, the barrow being called ‘Old Adam’. Either way, like the older way of calling the place Woden’s (Odin’s) Barrow, it suggests that it has been there as long as time itself.

(reported by Grinsell, Folklore of Prehistoric sites)

How many stones are there at threestone burn? There aren’t three. There are supposed to be 16 of these pink granite stones, according to English Heritage’s records. But ... the circle

consisted once, tradition rumoured, of 12 stones, but only 11 of them were visible, and it was foretold that whenever the 12th was found, a fortune in money would reward the lucky discoverer. The present worthy tenant, at the head of a company of hay-makers, whose work in the adjacent haining had been interrupted by a shower, instituted a search after the missing pillar, and lo! instead of twelve there were thirteen stones. Thirteen is always an unlucky number, so his painstaking was unremunerated. Perhaps he was not aware that Druid money is only bestowed by reversion in the world to come.

From the Folklore Society’s publishing of the Denham Tracts, v2.

Mrs Cunnington told L V Grinsell that when she was excavating the site, she was told of a local belief that it contained treasure.

(Grinsell – folklore of prehistoric sites)

In ‘Notes and Queries for Worcestershire’ (1856) John Noake explains on p204 that:

At Dudley there is a tradition that many years ago a giant lived in Dudley castle, as did also one in the castle of Birmingham. The Birmingham giant had done suit and service to the Dudley giant for many years, but growing fat he began to kick, and refused to serve the Dudley giant longer. A furious dispute thereupon broke out; the Dudley giant in his rage threw a large stone all the way from Dudley at the Birmingham giant and demolished his castle and killed him. Some of his surviving followers erected a stone in the lane as a memento of his prowess and rage and called it the War Stone, whence the name Warstone Lane.

Online at Google Books.

The stone has also been known as the Whorestone or Hoarstone.

It can be found just inside the cemetery in Warstone Lane.

These stones are the remains of five men who were cheeky enough to be digging their turnips on the Sabbath. Their leader was knocked over by the shock of being turned to stone: before the beginning of the last century you could see him lying there, but he’s since been righted.

(from Grinsell’s prehistoric folklore book, drawing on a book from 1919 which I haven’t yet tracked down. I wonder if the turnips got rather specifically incorporated because of the fame of turnips in the district – the Laing’s Improved Purple-Top, don’t you know.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=4CMaAAAAYAAJ&pg=RA2-PA7)

There is a persistent legend that the Lost Land of Lyonesse once stretched from Scilly to Land’s End. This realm was said to be the home of Tristan who went on to woo Iseult etc. The capital of Lyonesse was the City of Lions and was built around the hill which is now the treacherous reef of the Seven Stones. One night a huge wave (tsunami?) swept over Lyonesse and only one man escaped. This was Trevilian who galloped ahead of the flood on a white horse and survived to found the Cornish Trevelyan family.

There are many field walls and hut circles to be seen at the lowest tide when it is possible to walk from Samson to Bryher and from Bryher to Tresco. In Roman times, all of the islands were one (variously referred to as Sylina Insula and Siluram Insulam – singular, not plural ie The Scilly Island) with the exception of St Agnes and Annet. This has given rise to the legend that Scilly is a remnant of the Lost Land of Lyonesse. The legend further relates that the rest of Lyonesse lies beneath the sea between Scilly and Lands End and over towards the Lizard. There really is a submerged forest in Mount’s Bay and fishermen have reported seeing the tops of houses near the Longships lighthouse. The legend is further related in Cheryl Straffon’s excellent guide to Ancient Sites on the Isles of Scilly (Meyn Mamvro). Whatever else may lie beneath the waves, there are the remains of hundreds of shipwrecks awaiting the marine archaeolgist.

Janet and Colin Bord (in ‘Atlas of Magical Britain’) describe a man who follows walkers: he has a lantern and rattles a bag of gold coins.

From a horrifying letter from a W Parry to W Stukeley himself, just before Christmas 1742:
” I have, as hundreds have done before me, carried off a bit from the King, his Knights, and Soldiers, which I intend to send or keep for you.”

Notes and Queries from May 14th 1859 perhaps illuminates this odious habit further:
“My guide told me that it was daily diminishing in size, ” because people from Wales kept chipping off bits to keep the devil off,” and that he could remember it much larger. My guide was born half a mile off, at Long Compton, and had, he said, lived there “all his days.“”

People From Wales!! The cheeky bleeder!! It’s MILES away from Wales. Classic anti-Welsh sentiment if you ask me! Oops. Parry’s a Welsh name, isn’t it.. And the road going past the stones is a drovers’ road from Wales. Oh well.

And another example from ‘Folklore’ vol 6, no 1, p23- from yet another Welsh sounding traitor, Arthur J Evans.

Chips were taken from the King-stone “for luck,” and by soldiers “to be good for England in battle.” Betsy Hughes told me that her son, who had gone to India as a soldier, had taken a chip with him, “but it brought him no luck, for he died of typhus.” A man told me that he had been offered as much as a pound for a chip at Faringdon Fair; and the Welsh drovers, who used to trench the road with their cattle before the railway was made, used continually to be chipping off pieces, so that formerly the stone was much bigger than it is now. A man at Great Rollright gave me a chip that he had kept in his house for years.
Notwithstanding the prevalence of this practice there were many who held that to do an injury to the stones was fraught with danger. In Wales one of the most frequent punishments that falls upon those who thus transgress against the stones is the breaking down of the transgressor’s wagon, and this belief still survives at Rowldrich. A ploughman informed me that one day a man who was driving along the road from Banbury swore to a friend who was with him that he would carry off a chip of the King-stone “though his wheel locked.” He got down from his cart and chipped off a piece of the stone, but when he tried to drive on he found that one wheel was locked in such a way that nothing he could do would make it go round again.

Dragon Hill, the flat hillock below the white horse, is where St George (or King Jarge, as he might be known locally) uncharitably killed the Dragon. Where the mortally wounded dragon’s blood fell, it is said no plants will grow.

The name of this round barrow tends to suggest people thought there was treasure within it – or maybe they did actually find some. Whatever, these etymological speculations pale beside the following story, gathered by Grinsell from one of his many dusty tomes.

As you can see from a map, a path runs right by the tumulus. It’s said that on the night of Bisley Feast, two men from Chalford were returning home towards France Lynch. They were near the barrow when they spotted some people up ahead of them. Assuming they were some friends who’d also been to the festivities they hurried up to catch them. As they came closer they realised that the figures were men with no heads! As Grinsell quotes: “The consequent fright had an abiding effect on the men.”

As it well might.

Much more famous than “Ragged Jonathan”* is a perforated menhir about a mile to the east of Minchinhampton. It was formerly surrounded by the Common arable fields, to one of which it gave the name of “Longstone Field.” Once, when they were ploughing there with oxen, they yoked a good many together, and tried to pull the Longstone out of the ground, but “something” held it firm. [..] Further, “when the Longstone hears the clock strike twelve, it runs round the field,” as almost every child in the place will tell you. Within living memory, children with whooping-cough and rickets used to be put through one of the holes in the stone. Traditions of bloodshed also cling round the Longstone; some say that it marks the burial place of a Danish chief killed in a battle at “Woeful Danes’ Bottom,” about half a mile distant, where “the blood ran as high as the wheels of a cart,” and the victory was won by women who gave the Danes poisoned pancakes to eat. At the battle of “Woeful Danes’ Bottom,” which is much talked about, “the solders shot through the holes of the Longstone”; and all the tumuli or “tumps” in the neighbourhood are held to be “the soldiers’ graves.”

From: Cotswold Place-Lore and Customs, by J. B. Partridge, in Folklore, Vol. 23, No. 3. (Sep., 1912), pp. 332-342.

It’s also been said that a hellhound-style black dog has been seen in the stone’s vicinity. Not that you’ll probably see the black dog at midnight – bar its nasty red glowing eyes. In the ‘alternative approaches to folklore bibliography’ at
hoap.co.uk/aatf1.doc
it specifically mentions Woefuldane Bottom as the location of the spectral dog – this appears to be the road that the stone lies next to.

In ‘A history of the parishes of Minchinhampton and Avening’ by Arthur Twisden Playne (1915) it’s mentioned that the Danes marched in here via the Daneway and met the Saxons at Woefuldane bottom. The slaughter of the Danes was so great that ‘the blood came up over the fetlocks of the Saxon horses’. But then Playne ruins it all: “I am sorry to throw doubt on so picturesque a legend” – he says Daneway is from ‘Dene Way’ or valley way, and Woeful from ‘Wulfflaed’, a personal name.

The ‘Ragged Jonathan’ mentioned above is explained as follows (also in the Folklore article):

Two menhirs, “Cob Stone” and “Picked Stone,” were destroyed on or near Minchinhampton Common, about seventy years ago. Still standing is the curious “Ragged Jonathan” or “Holey Stone” about 5 ft. high, pitted all over with small regular cup-like depressions. It has been used at some time as a milestone; but one old inhabitant says he thinks it came from the Devil’s Churchyard, while another says that children used to be lifted over it to cure whooping-cough. I have also been told that the holes in the stone were made by Oliver Cromwell’s guns.

Close by this chamber are the ruined cottages of the last people to live on Samson. The island was abandoned in the 19th century when almost all of the men were drowned while attempting to rescue people from a shipwreck.

In the background, can be seen field walls on the sands which are only uncovered at low tide. There are many field walls and hut circles to be seen at the lowest tide when it is posible to walk from Samson to Bryher and from Bryher to Tresco. (See entry for Lyonesse)

Boudica is firmy linked to this site and local people will still tell you that “Boadicea’s Camp was where she poisoned herself after the Romans beat her”.

The image of Boudica and her daughters owes much to the statue on the Embankment at Westminster. People are familiar with the statue and will assure you that “Boadicea’s chariot had knives on the wheels which she used to chop off the Romans’ legs” When pressed further, the informant invariably maintains that the battle took place somewhere to the west and that after her army was defeated, Boadicea retreated to Ambresbury Banks where she poisoned her daughters and then herself.

The plateau fort is now in trees, but was built on high ground overlooking the Lea Valley and the batttle is supposed to have taken place in the general area of St Alban’s. The legend is very strongly held and quite unshakeable. Difficult to know if it is a long held tradition or an echo of 18th/19th century antiquarian interest.

Maen Beuno is named after St. Beuno, who lived nearby in the 6th c.AD and is said to have preached from this spot.

“Another story tells how in a time of famine a white cow appeared from the sea and directed the women to take their milk pails to the old stone circle, where she provided everyone with a pailful of milk each night. A witch tried to get two pailsful but without success, so she returned next time with a sieve with which she milked the cow dry. After that it was never again seen at Callanish stones.”

- Janet & Colin Bord, A Guide to Ancient Sites in Britain

In his book More Mysterious Wales, Chris Barber writes:

Standing in the churchyard [of St. Mary’s Church, Welshpool], this hunk of stone is reputed to have stood formerly in the abbey of Strata Marcella (SJ25131042) where the abbots were ‘installed’ on it as part of a well established ritual.

After the Dissolution of the monasteries Maen Llog was moved to St. Mary’s Church, and a new ritual grew up around it:

Folk who were required to do penance were made to stand on the stone, dressed in a white sheet, with a candle in one hand.

The stone was moved into the graveyard on the instruction of a Puritan called Vovasour Powell, who considered it to be an object of superstition. It sounds like Powell was right, because the stone came to be used as a wishing stone. To make wish, you have to climb it and turn three times to face the sun.

In his book Mysterious Wales, Chris Barber tells the following Arthurian legend about the stones:

These stones, about 25 feet apart, are said to be a monument to King Arthur’s sons who were killed by the Twrch Trwyth, a wild boar which caused havoc in his camp. It had originally swum over from Ireland. The story is told in great detail in the Mabingion. On the ridge above are Cerrig Marchogion – the stones of Arthur’s Knights.

Presumably Cerrig Marchogion is Bedd Arthur, but I’ve not seen it referred to by this name before.

Visible from the cup marked rock is Coombes Tor and legend has it it was here the tribes of the Peak fought the Romans. One of the Chieftans daughters was sacrificed in the hope it would bring them a victory......alas it didn’t and the locals were wiped out.

The position of the ‘Pricking Rods’ is said to mark where the sacrifice took place. As to what the ‘Rods’ actually are is a bit of a mystery ...they look like they are possibly the remains of 2 wayside crosses stood on top of a large square boulder. Apparently 2 crosses together like this would make them a bit of a rarity......The other explanation for the use of the stones was to aid bending bows whilst being strung.

The site is associated with a local legendary giant called Jack O’ Legs who was supposed to have lived in a cave nearby.

Various versions of the story exist. See mysteriousbritain.co.uk/england/hertfordshire/weston.html
ausbcomp.com/~frets/smwcmort.htm#Legend

There is a poem about the well, said to testify to its purity;

“Whoever eats Hammer nuts and drinks Diana’s water (watter)
Will never leave Witton while he’s a rag or tatter.”

Chatting to a knowledgeable friend about the possible role of the Ridgeway hillforts as overnight droving enclosures (they’re all about 8/9 miles apart on the western section, a good days droving by anyone standards), he first proposed that Uffington was a horse market, with the banks of the hillfort being used as display areas, then mentioned Bullstrode.

This site, he suggested, may have also served as a cattle market. *Bul*strode is situated right on the A40, a major route for many years, which if is followed to the east, crosses the first river at a town now known as Uxbridge (or “Ox-bridge”)

This doesn’t count as proof, far from it, but it’s something to consider.

The name comes from the belief that Cromwell sited his guns here during the Civil War to bombard Winchester Castle. In reality it’s much too far away to have been used for this purpose as the Castle is about 2 miles distant.
The locals call the area “Ollie B”

As the EH Schedule says:

“The failure of the workers on the artillery castle to topple this
standing stone for use in their structure demonstrates a respect for such
antiquities that has sometimes persisted in the folklore of recent
communities.

The stone’s survival is also considered to reflect its useful
siting as a navigational aid for seamen entering St Mary’s Pool, a role now superseded by the modern marker adjacent to the standing stone.”