Latest Folklore

The Visbeker Braut and Visbeker Bräutigam tombs got their names from an old legend, according to which a young woman was forced by her parents to marry a rich man from Visbek whom she hated. When she was led to Visbek with her entourage to be married and saw the town in the distance, she wished to be turned to stone rather than marry the man she had been promised to. And so it came to pass that the bride and her entourage were turned to stone on the spot, where they remain to this day. The same fate befell her groom, who stands just a few kilometres away as the Visbeker Bräutigam. In fact, today, as was already the case at the beginning of the 19th century, no buildings in the centre of the municipality of Visbek can be seen from the Visbeker Braut.

In the book Mysterious Britain by Janet and Colin Bord, the tale of the druid offering a seemingly bottomless cup to passersby is mentioned under the section discussing the nearby Cheesewring rock formation. However instead of naming this Barrow Rillaton, it is named Arthur’s Grave cairn. I’m of suspect this is an error on the authors part as I have yet to find any other sources that give it this name. The story is vastly the same as the one other site users have attached to this site, though it gives the story a possible link to the grail quest of Arthurian lore. The early iterations of the grail story can be linked back to the Welsh text known as the mabinogion, in this the grail is a cauldron, and many various spring up that have abilities akin to the grail, one story is of the vessel being unable to be emptied/ bottomless. This was so as to prevent starvation/ it could sustain all to give life everlasting. Perhaps grasping at straws with this one but I’m also posting this here in the wonder if someone else might have heard of this site under that name.

In view of Ham hill between the villages of Stoke Sub Hamdon and Montacute is St Michaels hill, a tower built upon it was constructed for the Montacute house estate which is now owned by the national trust. According to legend a cross made from flint was dug up here by a man who found it following a dream he had and put in a church, Harold of the Saxons prayed to this cross on his way to fight William. It sadly didn’t do him much good, this cross has now since been lost. A plaque telling this story sits on the hillside on the way up to the mount, the tower is sadly no longer accessible due to the dangers of it’s narrow staircase and height.

According to Arthurian Legend Merlin and Arthur met under this quoit, Merlin told Arthur they would meet here again at the end of all things.

This is perhaps in reference to Arthur on his way to Camlann, his last battle.

Besides this Quoit is an old abandoned house, this house was once an arts studio though now it lies abandoned due to it’s disconnected location. It’s for sale, but the buyer would need to install water and electricity as well as cut back all the brambles to access it via car from the main road, as it’s now only accessible by foot.

This house is known locally as Carn Cottage, or ‘The Crawley house’. Local folklore alleges that Alistair Crawley once stayed here, performing rituals of Dark magic in Zennor Church. This is purely speculative and has never been proven, but the story is enough to make it a pilgrimage spot for Crawley enthusiasts. The derelict house features some quotes of Crawley scrawled on the walls, upside down crosses and a pentagram on the floor as well as the symbol for Crawley’s religious order. Should you reach the house on your way to the Quoit you have gone the wrong way, the map in ‘journey to the stones’ is sadly out of date and a path past the house is no longer easily accessible due to vegetation and a broken down range rover.

Hagbard and Signe

The story of »Hagbard and Signe« is a well-known Nordic legend about a pair of lovers who are unable to be together because their families are feuding, ultimately choosing to die together. The basic narrative is similar to Shakespeare’s »Romeo and Juliet«. The legend is primarily known from two main sources: Saxo Grammaticus’s »Gesta Danorum« (around the year 1200) and a medieval folk ballad, “Hagbard og Signe,” which was sung throughout the Nordic region. This ballad is number 20 (DgF 20) in Svend Grundtvig’s comprehensive collection, »Danmarks gamle Folkeviser«.

The story revolves around Hagbard, son of King Håmund, and Signe (also called Signelille), daughter of King Siger (or Sigvard). Their families are enemies, and after a battle between their brothers ends in a draw, Hagbard meets and falls in love with Signe, who secretly promises to marry him.

The folk ballad version begins with Hagbard having a prophetic dream in which he is in heaven with Signe, but they fall through the sky. An “Elven Datter” (daughter of the elves) interprets the dream, predicting that he will win the maiden but must die for her. Undeterred, Hagbard disguises himself in women’s clothing to enter King Sigvard’s court and be near Signe. Signe’s father, King Sigvard, allows the disguised Hagbard to stay with his daughter to learn needlework but warns them both to beware of Hagbard, who is a cunning suitor.

During the evening, an evil serving maid (“den arge Terne”) grows suspicious of the “maiden” who carves wood expertly, drinks heavily, and has strong hands and piercing eyes. Later that night, Hagbard and Signe are together and confess their love for each other. Hagbard reveals his identity, explaining he came in disguise because Signe’s father had threatened to hang him. The evil maid overhears their conversation, steals Hagbard’s sword and armor while he sleeps, and informs King Sigvard.

The king’s men attack, and though Hagbard fights bravely with bedposts, he is eventually captured. He breaks every bond used to restrain him until the evil maid suggests binding him with a lock of Signe’s hair. His love for her is so strong that he will not break the hair, and he is finally subdued.

Sentenced to be hanged, Hagbard makes a final request to Signe: when she sees him on the gallows, she should set fire to her bower. As he is led to the gallows, he asks that his red cloak be hung up first to test Signe’s promise. Seeing the cloak, Signe believes Hagbard is dead, sets her chamber on fire, and dies in the flames with her maids. When Hagbard sees the fire, he knows Signe has kept her word and goes gladly to his death. King Sigvard, realizing too late how powerful their love was, deeply regrets his actions and orders the treacherous serving maid to be buried alive.

The tale of Hagbard and Signe’s faithful love has been known in the Nordic countries for over a thousand years and was considered an ancient memory even to the pagan forefathers. References to the story, such as a kenning for “gallows” being “Signe’s man’s cold horse,” appear in a Norwegian poem from around 900 CE. While the legend’s precise origin is unknown, name forms like “Hagbard” suggest a continental German origin.

The setting of the legend has been claimed by many locations across Scandinavia, including Sigersted in Zealand, Denmark; several sites in Sweden; and Engeløya in Norway. Various landmarks, such as burial mounds and stones, are associated with the characters.

The legend has inspired later works, including Adam Oehlenschläger’s tragedy »Hagbarth og Signe« (1815) and Gabriel Axel’s film »The Red Mantle« (1967). In modern times, an amateur play about the couple is performed every other year on the Norwegian island of Engeløya.

da.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagbard_og_Signe

kalliope.org/en/text/folkeviser2018041012

This looks like a magical spot so if it has attendant fairies (rather than children run off from picnics) then that would be nice.

Sir, – [...] I have long wished to relate to Border folk a queer experience that happened to me at Routin Linn, near Ford. My mother was a native of that place and I spent a few years of the first part of my life in that delightful place. I went back when I was grown up and married. It had been said to me: “You must see the Routin Linn.” I did so, and this is what happened: –

When I got there and looked up at the waterfall I was amazed to see a beautiful little child looking down at me and smiling; she could not have been more than three or four years old. Much wondering how she could have got there, for she was close beside the running water, I climbed up the rocks, but there was nothing but the bare plain and the trees. I went down again, but when I looked up there she was, still smiling. I climbed up again and it was the same: there was not a vestige of any living soul. I gave it up after that.

This happened a good many years ago, but I still see that lovely child looking down at me from the top of the Linn. A short time ago I told a Quaker friend the story and he said I should take it further. After a long life of reading and study I have come to the conclusion that the Routin Linn is haunted, and I must have been in sympathy with the atmosphere at the time. If any of your readers know of any tales or legends connected with the Linn I shall be pleased to know them.
Yours etc.,
Ada Jennings.

From the Berwick Advertiser, 18th March 1943.

This comes from the Alnwick Mercury of 1st of November 1861. Which suggests that Hob is right (well that is to say he was right nearly 20 years ago) to attribute the story to the Alnwick area.

In the fields between Lilburn and Middleton, rests a stone, which in the suggestions of the “Religio loci” is not to be removed, while the present system of things maintains its stability.

Two hinds, with more than the intrepidity of their class, resolved to explore the mystery that it shrouded, and enrich themselves by one energetic stroke. Accordingly, when the shades of night had fallen, and nature had sunk to repose, having provided themselves with mattocks and spades, they, without informing anyone, and without waiting for customary warnings, repaired to the scene of enterprise, and commenced their daring operations.

They had already penetrated to a considerable depth, without any manifestations of danger, each fresh spadeful of earth communicating invigorated energy to their arms, and re-inspiring them with hope; and they had begun to flatter themselves, that the oft-repeated tale of demoniac watchers over the treasures that slumbered was a vain chimera, which ignorance had conjured up; when all at once, one of them heard a low fluttering as of something struggling to get free, come from beneath the stone. He communicated his impressions to his coadjutor, but as the sound had not reached him, he received but a rude banter to re-assure him.

He again resumed the work, when suddenly a repeated movement from below, shot a pang of terror to the heart of both. One of them still persisted in disturbing the precincts of the fated stone; but scarcely had he removed the unhallowed soil, when the stone commenced moving up and down violently; – and out there issued from under it – and the earth quaked to let it forth – a creature all in white – in figure like a swan: – that “flaffered and flew,” and made such strange and hideous outcry; that the delinquents, casting down their implements, hurried off, each in the direction his terrors prompted him, would farthest carry him from the grasp of the evil thing, which his unhallowed doings had evoked from the recesses of the earth, and whose rage no human power might avail to appease.

The sanctuary of the stone was ever afterwards inviolate. Fixed in its pristine position, it still draws the dread and reverence of all the swains in its vicinity, who have not yet learned to undervalue the opinions and belief of their simple progenitors.

Christened on the hill top.
Strange scene in Derbyshire.

Harborough Hill, in the West of Derbyshire, which is said to have been the haunt of Druids, has recently been the scene of a strange christening. At the summit of this lofty ridge a large block of limestone has been carved into a capacious chair, another rock, with a flat top, appears to have been used as an altar, and an adjacent monolith, in which a semi-circular bowl has been schooped out, looks like a rude font. It was with water from this ancient rock bowl that the child – the daughter of a farmer in the district – was lately christened. The little girl, three months old, was carried up to this wild, bleak spot, and there, with the wind howling among the crags, baptism was administered by a lay reader. There is no record of any similar rite having been celebrated on Harborough Hill, and the conditions of this picturesque baptism appear to be quite unique.

From the Manchester Times, 25th August 1906.

A famous legend explains how a young woman named Inger promised fidelity to her first love, vowing the Devil could claim her if she broke her word. When she attempted to marry another, the Devil appeared at Bregninge church and dragged her to the mound. Her bridal wreath protected her until a boy removed it, allowing the Devil to pull her into the barrow. This tale is thought to have saved Ingershøj from being leveled, unlike other nearby mounds.

Regrettably this seems to change from a nice little symbol on the 1880s maps to a ‘site of’ so I’m guessing there’s nothing to see, or virtually nothing. But I’m hoping you will indulge this little insight into how people saw barrows. An intersection of ancient tracks and parish boundaries sounds like a good liminal spot to me.

Oram’s Grave (Chitterne St. Mary).

At the intersection of the old track from Salisbury to Warminster across the Downs, with that from Maddington to Codford St Mary, on the boundary line of Maddington and Chitterne St Mary, is a barrow marked “Oram’s Grave” on the Ordnance 6in. Map. The Bishop, on his visit to us (23 March 1893), pointed out this name to me, of which I was previously ignorant, and suggested that it was the corruption of some British or Saxon name, which I doubted. Afterwards, on looking at the map, it occurred to me that as the grave was situated at the cross roads, Oram was probably the name of a suicide, buried there according to the old custom and law.

A conversation with widow Sarah Cook (aged 81) on 28 March 1893, proved that this was the case. She told me that in 1849 she and her husband were living in one of the Maddington Down Barn Cottages, and in the other the shepherd lived, James White and his wife Elizabeth (formerly Windsor), a very good woman, aged 61, both of Chitterne. Elizabeth White told Sarah Cook that when she was a child she was coming home with her father from Salisbury (or elsewhere) and when they were near the crossways by the Clump, they saw many people coming from Chitterne to bury Oram in the barrow there, for he had hung himself with his own rope, and was to be buried there. Her father told her that “her maunt be vraughten at what she saw for they wouldn’t hurt she,” and so she saw Oram buried. She did not tell Sarah Cook whether his body was in a coffin or not, but Sarah Cook thinks there was a coffin; certainly there was no parson and no service. The barrow has ever afterwards been called “Oram’s Grave,” and the name is now perpetuated in the Ordnance Survey.

8 May 1893. – The Rev. A.C. Pinhorn, Vicar of Chitterne, told me the circumstances of Oram’s burial are forgotten in Chitterne, except that the cause of his suicide was disappointment in love, and that a stake was driven through the body, which I think proves that though he may have been carried to the grave in a coffin, he was not buried in one. There is no record of the funeral in the Register, nor any charge for it in the parish accounts.

Fredk. Bennett.

Who knows. From Wiltshire Notes and Queries, vol III (1899-1901).

Amongst the oldest relics of man in Gigha is Carn Ban (the White Cairn) of the Late Bronze Age. It is of circular type, with no passage, and the cists are closed, with no divisions. The site is on a bench or shelf 30 feet above sea level, a few yards back from the beach, in a sea of heather and bracken, half a mile south south of Port Righ (King’s Port). In 1792, the cairn was denuded of almost all its stone by dykebuilders, who were unaware of its purpose until they laid bare the internal chambers.. They told how when they opened these they were greeted by an intolerable stench, which obliged them to drink spirits and keep on the windward side; and when they omitted these precautions they had violent headaches.

The Magic of Gigha – Freddie Gillies

The Stone of Saint Varena: A Sacred Healer in Villa del Foro.

In the small village of Villa del Foro, near Alessandria in northern Italy, a remarkable stone is embedded in the outer wall of the local church. Known as the “Stone of Saint Varena”, it is the object of ancient legends and healing rituals that blend pagan origins with Christian devotion.A Pagan Altar Turned Sacred

According to tradition, the stone was once a pagan altar, possibly used in pre-Christian religious rites. Legend tells that Saint Varena, a German woman coming back from Egypt said to be part of the Theban Legion in the 4th century, lifted this heavy stone onto her shoulders and carried it to the heart of the village. There, she instructed the construction of a church where it now remains, set into the façade as a sacred relic.

Interestingly, the name “Varena” (or “Vareina” in the local dialect) is associated with the meaning “healer”, reinforcing her legendary powers and the stone’s therapeutic role.

Healing Ritual and Local “Mantra”
To this day, the stone is believed to hold healing powers, especially for back pain, rheumatic conditions, and kidney issues.

The traditional ritual involves:

Touching the stone with the afflicted part of the body (often the back),

Making the sign of the cross,

And reciting a local healing phrase (almost like a mantra) in dialect, which goes:

“Santa Vareina, Santa Vareina, famme passè l’mal de scheina”
(Saint Varena, Saint Varena, take away my back pain)

This practice is still observed by locals and pilgrims alike, reflecting the enduring belief in the stone’s curative power.

A Christianized Megalithic Cult
The legend and devotion surrounding the Stone of Saint Varena is widely considered a Christian reinterpretation of an older megalithic tradition. Like many sacred stones throughout Europe, what was once a prehistoric or Celtic site of worship was absorbed into the Christian faith—its powers preserved but reattributed to a saint.

Every year on September 1st, the village holds a procession in honor of Saint Varena, continuing a ritual connection to the sacred landscape and reinforcing communal identity.

The stone is known among the elders of the area by this name, the “Sasso dell’Olio”, although no one remembers exactly why. Still, the basin at the top clearly suggests that it once held oil, likely for ritual or practical use.

The best way to visit these places is through a day-long hike, allowing time to fully immerse yourself in the landscape. The area is rich in local folklore, with many legends still surviving. The names of saints often seem to echo ancient deities or local spirits, and stories abound of fairies and devils said to inhabit the deep gullies (calanchi) and the numerous springs scattered across the valleys.

Many place names, of hills, streams, and villages, are of Celtic or pre-Christian origin, further deepening the sense of a land shaped by layers of spiritual and cultural history.

Below are additional images from the hike, along with a selection of useful links and notes for those interested in exploring further.

The Stone of Montechiaro and the Witches’ Stones of the Langhe and Monferrato: while no specific legends or stories are currently known about the large stone near Montechiaro d’Acqui, a standing in a clearing by the road between Acqui Terme and Spigno, it shares several features with what local folklore throughout Piedmont refers to as “pietre delle masche” (witches’ stones). These are ancient stones, monoliths, or sacred rocks that were often believed to be linked to the presence of masche, something like witches or magical women in the Piedmontese tradition.

Such stones are scattered across the Langhe and Monferrato regions and are frequently associated with pre-Christian rituals, weather manipulation, or supernatural phenomena. Often located in isolated or elevated spots, these stones were believed to be charged with power. In some tales, people avoided them out of fear, while in others they were seen as sites for nocturnal gatherings or places where the boundaries between the worlds of the living and the dead grew thin—especially during solstices or storms.

There are suggestions that a stone near Montechiaro d’Acqui, described in older accounts as being “near some ruins”, might belong to this category of legendary stones, even if no specific folklore has survived in written form. Its age and unexplained presence could indicate ancient use or symbolic meaning now lost.

Although no clear stories remain today, the context of local traditions surrounding similar stones suggests that it may once have been part of a mythical or ritual landscape, quietly echoing the ancient presence of the masche and their mysterious world.

The Ardminish cist on the Isle of Gigha is associated with a folk tale about three men turned to stone for abandoning their wives. This myth is thought to be a later interpretation by Christian converts, possibly replacing an earlier belief that the stones were a dwelling place for ancestral spirits. The cist itself is a short cist, discovered during quarrying, and roughly aligned north-south, a direction associated with death.

Northern Antiquarian.

The Beacharr Standing Stone in Kintyre, Scotland, is associated with a local legend involving a brownie and a Campbell. The story says a brownie, who protects the MacDonalds of Largie and lives on the Isle of Cara, became enraged when a Campbell landed on Cara. The brownie transformed into a giant to chase the Campbell away. During the chase, a sliver of stone from the brownie’s sandal was dislodged and thrown across the water, landing at Beacharr and becoming the standing stone.

Beacharr Standing Stone is the tallest in Kintyre, standing at just over 5 meters tall. It’s located on a steep escarpment overlooking the Sound of Gigha.

The story, as shared by locals, involves a brownie (a helpful, mischievous spirit) associated with the MacDonalds of Largie and their island home, Cara. A Campbell (a rival clan) arrived on Cara, angering the brownie.

The brownie transformed into a giant to drive the Campbell away. During this pursuit, a piece of stone from the brownie’s sandal was dislodged.

The brownie, with the stone fragment stuck in his sandal, pulled it out and hurled it across the water. It landed at Beacharr, becoming the standing stone.

While the “brownie chase” story is a popular one, there are also suggestions that the stone might be related to lunar observations, and some early accounts mention it as a “monument of knowledge” about “mechanic powers”.

Interesting or hocus pocus, I didn’t find any sword to pull out of a rock :-)

mistshadows.blogspot.com/2024/11/arthur-son-of-bicoir-of-kintyre.html

Without those Chantry Closes next to the Bridge leading into Buckingham Parish, are two remarkable Tumuli, which I judge were raised in the Time when the Romans possessed this Island, on Account of some Battle fought here. The Vulgar have several odd traditions about their being inhabited by Fairies, &c.

From the chapter on Thornborough, in ‘The history and antiquities of the town, hundred, and deanry of Buckingham’ by Browne Willis, 1755.

A Pagan Site.

At a short distance from the Church of Rafford, on the face of the hill to the east, are the remains of a Druidical temple – now shrunk into three grey stones, of about three feet high, set into the earth. From time immemorial, they have been called “Temple Stones,” and the farm adjacent is so named.

A curious tradition still floats in the minds of the country people, respecting the attempt to build the old Kirk of Rafford on the site of this pagan temple. The first loads of stones for the kirk was laid down at Temple Stones, but the next morning they were found by the side of the burn, in a marsh, 1000 yards distant! During the night they had been removed by some invisible being; next day they were again brought back to the pagan site, but they refused to rest on such polluted soil; and back they whirled through the air, or along the earth to the burn-side. The heritors* not being disposed further to dispute the matter with so mysterious an agency, acquiesced, and the church was built in the marsh by the side of the burn, and in it the parishioners worshipped till the present beautiful fabric – the most beautiful of all country kirks – was erected.

From the Forres Elgin and Nairn Gazette, 25th April 1928.
*I’m always learning new words doing this.

This site is at Melgarve, just before the track of General Wade’s Military Road heads into the mountains proper, and over the Corrieyairack Pass. The little index card you can see on Trove.scot describes it as a squarish tapering granite block 0.8m high, with another similar lying beside it (supposedly one stone broken in two).

“This stone... is traditionally said to mark the grave of an Irishman called Cathelus, who ran off with Cluny MacPherson’s daughter and was murdered on this spot about 200 years ago” (meaning about 200 years before 1870 when this was recorded in the name book). Confusingly it was also called ‘Uamh Clach Chathail’ where uamh means ‘cave’, but “although there is no recorded cave associated with the stone, there is one traditionally associated with Cathelus in Creag Chathalain at NN496946.” Your sense of Christian morality will be relieved by the note: “According to MacAskill, the body was later removed from this spot and buried in sanctified ground.” But it’s likely a prehistoric standing stone, of course.

I found a story connected with the area (if not the stone) which I am appending for Highland Atmosphere. It’s from a letter to The Scots Magazine, 1st September 1975.

Dear Sir, – For those of your readers who are interested in the supernatural I would like to relate an experience that my parents had which could well be in the nature of the occult. This was many years ago now – I would place the date about 1898.... Both my parents were great walkers, and on one occasion decided to walk to Fort Augustus by General Wade’s old military road... I take it that they went from Laggan via Crathie and Garva Bridge and on to Melgarve, Corrieyairack Pass and down Glen Tarff to Fort Augustus. This was no mean walk, even on a summer’s day with long daylight. I would say that the distance was all of 20 miles. I gather that all went well until they were well through Corrieyairack, when the mist came down, restricting visibility to a few yards. The track here was not at all clear, and they had wandered off it. Suddenly, out of the mist strode a tall, kilted and plaided Highlander, accompanied by two magnificent deer-hounds. Approaching them, he said, “Your road to Fort August lies this way,” leading them through the mist to the track. Not another word was spoken, and then he and his hounds walked off into the thick mist. While walking to the proper route, my mother made a fuss of the two beautiful dogs, talking to them, and the hounds seemed to appreciate her advances and responded with the usual signs of pleasure.

A point of interest arises here. Although the hounds were very obvious, my father never saw them, and asked her who she was talking to. She was more than surprised that he had not seen them, especially since they were in front when the Highlander appeared out of the mist. They were too delighted to have got help in such a lonely place to bother any more about the matter at the time. At the hotel that night... one man, a guest in the hotel, was interested in their walk and jokingly asked them if, while in Corrieyairack, they had seen the famous kilted ghost. Somewhat reluctantly my parents told the whole story. Neither my father or mother had any foreknowledge of the ghost legend.... My mother’s reaction was that, if all ghosts were like this one, she wouldn’t mind meeting one again... J. Alastair Faed, Elphin, Sutherland.

Relating to the lake on the bank of which the henge stands (and in which the crannog sits):

The Banshee, or Vaugh, or Weird Woman of the Water.

Four or five miles from Skibo there is a lake called Migdall, with a great granite rock of the same name to the north of it. At one end a burn runs out past Moulinna Vaugha, or the kelpie’s mill. It is also haunted by this banshee, which the miller’s wife saw about three years ago. She was sitting on a stone, quiet, and beautifully dressed in green silk, the sleeves of which were curiously puffed from the wrist to the shoulder. Her long hair was yellow, like ripe corn, but on a nearer view she turned out to have no nose. – (Miller’s wife).

‘The Folk-lore of Sutherlandshire’ by Miss Dempster, in The Folk-Lore Journal v.6 (1888).

At Burghead, in Morayshire, on the evening of the last day of December (old style), the youths of the village assemble about dusk and obtain two empty barrels (by force if necessary). They then repair to a particular spot on the sea-shore to commence operations. A stout pole is firmly fixed in one of the barrels, and supports are nailed round the outside. Tar is then put into the barrel and set on fire; the other barrel being broken up, stave after stave is thrown in until it is quite full. The “Clavie” as it is called, burning fiercely, is shouldered and borne away at a rapid pace. As soon as the bearer gives signs of exhaustion another takes his place, and should any of those who are honoured to carry the blazing load meet with an accident, the misfortune incites no pity even among his near relatives.

In making the circuit of the village they confine themselves to its old boundaries, and also (formerly) visited the fishing-boats. The “Clavie is finally carried to a small artificial eminence near the point of the promontory where a circular heap of stones is hastily piled up, in the hollow centre of which the “Clavie” is placed still burning. This eminence is called the “Durie.”

After being allowed to burn for a few minutes, the “Clavie” is most unceremoniously hurled from its place, and the smoking embers scattered among the assembled crowd, by whom they are eagerly caught at, and fragments carried home and carefully preserved as charms against witchcraft. With them the fire on the cottage hearth is at once kindled. It is considered lucky to keep this flame all the rest of the year. – Notes and Queries, 2nd ser. ix. 38, 106, 169, 269; Book of Days, ii. 789-791.

No stranger may join the band of workers, but as an onlooker. The sons of the original inhabitants only handle the primitive tools that make the Clavie. Unwritten but unvarying laws regulate all their actions. Every article required is borrowed, nothing bought. As darkness comes on a band of coopers and sailors makes its way to a particular spot overlooking the bay to the west of the village. The band, till a few years ago, was headed by an old man who superintended the building of the Clavie. Now he has resigned the post, and a young man of another family is the recognised chief.

A tar barrel is sawn in two, and the bottom half is retained. A long nail is specially made by the village smith, and with it the bottom half of the barrel is firmly nailed to a pole. The staves of another barrel are nailed to the lower rim of the half-barrel, and their lower edges to the pole some distance down. Sufficient space is left between two of the staves for a man’s head to be thrust in, for the Clavie is carried round the village on the head and shoulders. The pole, or “spoke” as it is called, to which the half-barrel has been thus nailed, is set up, and there stands the empty Clavie.

As each additional performance is completed, the workers stop and give three cheers, the crowd of children and onlookers usually joining. “Three cheers for that,” rings out again and again, and as the sounds rise, a strange feeling of great excitement gets abroad. When the last stave is nailed on, the greater part of the work is over. The round stone used for a hammer is thrown aside, and the work of filling the Clavie with sticks and tar beins. When all is ready, one of the band is sent for a burning peat, which is always supplied from the same house. This is applied to the tar, and soon the Clavie is ablaze, and the cheers literally become howls of excited glee.

The first to put his head under this mass of flames is usually some one of their number who has recently been married. The first “lift” of the Clavie is an honour, and is bought in the orthodox fashion – a round of whiskey to the workers. And now the strange procession hurries along the streets. He who carries the tar-dripping and flaming Clavie does not walk; he runs, and the motley crowd surges around him and behind him, cheering and shouting. On they hurry, along the same streets where similar processions have gone year after year. At certain houses, and at certain street-corners, a halt is made, and a brand is whipped out of the Clavie, and hurled on its flaming errand of good-luck among the crowd. He who seizes the brand shall be the favourite of Fortune during the months of the coming new year.

Near the head of the promontory is the Doorie Hill, the only remaining “Baillie.” To this mound the Clavie is finally carried. A stone altar stands on the summit of the Doorie, into a hole in the centre of which the spoke of the Clavie is inserted. In this position it is visible from all parts of the village. Another barrel of tar is emptied into the fire, and the great flames leap up into the black night and roll down the sides of the altar and stir up the flaming mass, or hit the sides of the barrel. The spoke of the Clavie is rescued from the flames and sold, while the charred sticks are eagerly snatched up by the villagers and set up in the ingle neuk, to be bringers of good luck and averters of evil in the coming year. – The Evening Dispatch, Edinburgh, Wednesday, January 16th, 1889.

Collected together in The Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 7 (1889).

This thrilling / terrifying spectacle still goes on: burghead.com/clavie/

On the origin of the stone:

There are at present the remains of two ancient churches at Ardmore. One situated on the edge of a cliff near the sea, which is quite in ruins, and seems to have been the first church built hereabouts; near which on the Strand, they shew you St Declan’s stone, as it is called, being of a coarse grit, like all the adjacent rocks. It lies shelving upon the point of a rock, and on the patron-day of this saint, great numbers creep under this stone three times, in order, (as they pretend,) to cure and prevent pains in the back.

This stone, they tell you, swam miraculously from Rome, conveying upon it St Declan’s Bell and vestments.

Near this church is a Well dedicated to the same saint, to which, as well as to the stone, many miraculous virtues are attributed by the superstitious people.

The Ancient and Present State of the County and City of Waterford, by Charles Smith (1746).

There is a stone circle in Mrs Connor’s field Carrigagulla. Lights and people are supposed to be seen round this fort at night. Sometimes crying was heard there formerly.

There is another stone convenient to it in Denis Kelliher’s Reidh.

There are two stone circles in Sexton’s farm near Sheedy’s house.

There is another stone circle in Peter Ring’s farm Dunneen’s. One day when Bill Ring was digging stones out of this circle a hound came out of it and attacked him. When he went home his skin was black and he died the day after. It has been left untouched since.

There is a ring in the field at Padeenen’s Cross and every time a sow went into this stone circle she became lame and unable to walk.

I suppose the first stone circle mentioned might be this one? But even if not, this gives a taste of the caution you should probably exercise in this district.
From The Schools’ Collection, volume 341, p133, collected at Carrigagulla in the 1930s, and now online at Duchas.ie.