Latest Folklore

From the Schools’ Collection of folklore from the 1930s, which you can view at duchas.ie.

Belief in Fairies.
There is a fairy ring in the demesne of Blessington. It is a great big round circle of earth.

I don’t know if it’s the right place for the following story, but it seems like it could be:

Blessington.
Reports of the presence of fairies have caused a stir in Blessington. Two men working on night shift in a sandpit adjoining a “fairy moat” were disturbed by noises which were described as resembling the thunder of horses’ hoofs and it is claimed that several of the “little people” were seen. The men were genuinely affected by their experience.
Some accounts said that lights were seen and strange unearthly music was heard.

Sceptics hold that the collapse of a sand bank caused ground vibration and gave rise to unfounded fears. The men were working a “scraper,” which draws out sand in preparation for the following day’s loading, when they had their unusual experience. It is commonly believed that those who violate a “fairy ring” will meet with ill-fortune at the hands of the “good people.”

A minority of Blessington residents still hold to the old beliefs but most of those who spoke with our representative scoffed at the idea of fairies.

A story that the fairies were playing hurling with the “new” ball may, our representative learns on the very best authority, be discounted.

From the Leinster Leader, 8th October 1949. (I’m not sure what the ball refers to yet). Terrible pun alert for the next article:

The fairies have put Blessington in the headlines, but such notoriety has had a very mixed reception. One rational explanation is that the fairy (or multiples of them) was an oil barrel which thundered to the base of the pit in a fall of gravel and gave the two night workers wrong ideas. The barrel was found among the gravel next morning and it was not empty. It contained – no, not a fairy – oil.

In any case the fairy rath still stands undamaged, the wind-blasted bush which crowns it outlined against a daily darkening sky. Winter comes on and as the forces of modern mechanical progress draw nearer the sacred hill the fairies may be preparing to show their hand one more.

“Fairy rath” became fiery wrath when an irate pit owner was asked for his opinion on the matter. Our representative just escaped with his skin.

Leinster Leader, 15th October 1949.

Ascending Parbold Hill and proceeding eastwards in the direction of Standish, a slight descent is made into a ravine called Sprodley Wood, locally known as Fairy Glen, and along this wood runs Sprodley Brook. Shortly after passing over Sprodley Brook, in a field on the left may be seen a grass-covered mound which from time immemorial seems to have been called Boar’s Den. (...) A magnificent view presents itself at every point of the compass.

(...) Mr Price has from time to time noted down traditions, superstitions, and folk-lore as related to him by the inhabitants of the district. The traditions and superstitions which have gathered round Boars Den seem to be very similar to those associated generally with tumuli in other parts of the kingdom, the prevailing idea being that the neighbourhood is infested with spirits, boggarts, and fairies.

There is a tradition that a battle was fought at Bury Hey Wood, and another at Courage Low, and about fifty years ago, when the old pasture fields to the north of Boars Den were ploughed up, a number of badges or soldiers’ metal buttons were found – relics it was supposed of a battle fought here with the Scotch.

In a solitary cottage near Boards Den there lived in 1899 an old man of 85, whose father lived in the same cottage all his life, and died at the age of 90. this old man told Mr Price that in his early days he was employed as a labourer at Bury Hey Wood in levelling the ground and planting cover for game, and that in the course of his work he unearthed “some implements of war” which were taken away by Mr Scarisbrick of Wrightlington, the owner of the land, who placed great value upon them. He believed they were taken to London.

Robin Hood Lane runs past Boars Den, and between a certain gate and Dangerous Corner the old man declared the road was haunted by a boggart. His brother had seen it many times, and it “went clankin’ round th’ field in chains.” Boggart House, too, received visits from the house ghost, and during the sickness of one of the inmates the visits became so frequent and terrifying that the inhabitants finally flew in terror. It was also said that “sperrits” were frequently seen at Hill House Fold, an adjacent farm on the
hill near by.

‘Old Wigan’ in the Wigan Examiner, 19th July 1907.

A 1909 piece in the Wigan Observer mentions “[the] interesting tumulus, locally called Borz Dane but marked on the map as Boar’s Den. This name, I think, arose from Boorh, a hill (e.g., a barrow), and the name Dane, so that the compound implies Dane’s Hill. I do not rely much on the field names on the ordnance maps of this locality, for the surveyors did not understand Lancashire talk.”

For some reason this small area seems to have a very high Weirdness Density Index – in nearby Appley Bridge they even have Skull House with one of the terrors of my childhood, a screaming skull (which I trust the current owners are looking after properly).

I found on a map exactly where this was, and given that the road of houses next to it is still called “Fairy Street” I felt I had to add it, sorry. Google Streetview doesn’t seem to suggest there’s any bump left at all. But at least it’s still part of a strip of green.

“In a field,” says Surtees, “on the right-hand side of the road from Eppleton to Hetton, and only one field from Houghton-lane, is a remarkable tumulus, consisting entirely of field-stones gathered together. At the top there is a small oblong hollow, called the Fairies’ Cradle: on this little green mound, which has always been sacred from the plough, village-superstition believes the fairies to have led their moonlight circles, and whistled their roundelays to the wind.
The subterraneous palaces of the fairy sovereign are frequently supposed, both in England and Scotland, to exist under these regular green hillocks:

‘Up spoke the moody fairy king,
Who wons beneath the hill;
Like wind in the porch of a ruin’d church,
His voice was loud and shrill.‘

But the Hetton fairies, of whom, however, there is no living evidence, spoke in a voice remarkably small and exile.”

Quoted on p369 of ‘An Historical, Topographical, and Descriptive View of the County Palatine of Durham’ (1834).

This stone is at Putts Corner, a crossroads on Gittisham Hill, and near numerous barrows. It now finds itself in the shrubbery of the Hare and Hounds Inn. There’s a nice little watercolour sketch from 1855 on the East Devon National Landscape website, annotated as follows:

Block of stone on Honiton Hill at Putt’s Corner or Hunter’s Lodge, concerning which several traditions are current in the neighbourhood: – as how the Witches used to sacrifice their victims on it – how some fabulous person used to bury his money under it, – and so on.

I also found that “According to legend this stone possesses a distinct and decidedly reprehensible character of its own, for it goes to “have a drink” at Sydmouth every night. Moreover, no horse has ever been known to pass it without attempting either to shy or bolt.” (From the ‘English Illustrated’ quoted in the Manchester City News, 30th June 1906).

Or has it got another motive?:

Sir, – The Rolling Stone at Putt’s Corner must receive a glance from less than one per cent of the motorists who drive past. Yet it is the subject of an interesting local tradition, according to which it used to stand on end as one of the supports of a sacrificial altar. At midnight, when the moon is full, the story goes, it occasionally rolls itself down to the River Sid, there to attempt to wash away the blood stains of its human victims. The stone is a sarsen (not found naturally in the immediate neighbourhood) and its weight is computed to be about one ton. – Bywayman, Somerset.

(From Country Life, 9th May 1957). If it just rolls itself to the source of the river, that seems to be just down the road to the west (much easier than going all the way to Sidbury).

Another tale has it that “it danced at night when it heard the bells of Sidbury Church” (mentioned by Mr Pearse Chope to the Devonshire Association, reported in the Western Times 22nd July 1927).

I read a very imaginative article about various people actually seeing the stone rolling. But it’s in a 1970s newspaper feature called ‘Stranger Than Fiction’ – I’ve seen enough of these to know they’re made up on the spot (John Macklin I’m looking at you). That would be too silly. And terrifying.

The quality of these stones is a species of granite, reddish, and full of large white shining specks of spar-like appearance. When polished, some of them are veined, and have an ornamental appearance. There is no regularity in their shape, and few of them present sharp angles; indeed for the most part they seem from their rounded forms to have been long subjected to the action of water.

This species of stone is called by the country-folk thunder-stone, but upon what authority seems a matter of much doubt. I have heard the inhabitants assign two reasons – one, that the stones have fallen from the clouds during thunder-storms; and the other in consequence of their giving out sparks of fire when struck against each other, at the same time emitting a faint smell of sulphur. But in fact the great majority of the people would not be able to assign any reason for so singular a name, not troubling themselves to inquire into the origin of names.

This species of stone is very scarce in that part of the country; indeed, where the stones are found at all, they are mostly found singly, and at great distances from each other; and from an intimate acquaintance with the whole neighbourhood, I feel quite sure that the Druid stones could not be replaced from a surrounding district of very considerable extent. From whence they were brought to the situations they so long occupied [before many of them were blown up, that is], I have never even heard conjectured; that no human means were used to place them in their relative positions would be an opinion too wild to be hazarded.

From ‘The Druid Stones near Shap, in Westmorland’, in the Kendal Mercury, 18th April 1840.

Near to the roadside going from Orton to Shap is a large granite boulder or stone known by the name of “Galloway Stone,” where it has been said goblins have been seen. I knew a person who chanced to be out on the large tract of moorland, not far from the stone after daylight had disappeared, when he saw an apparition which made such an indelible impression upon him that he afterwards became very unsettled in his mind.

Penrith Observer, 22nd July 1890.

It would be strange if such a wild, sparsely inhabited district did not boast a “boggle” or two. The Shap Fells have a few traditions, particularly in the region of the Galloway Stone, a huge granite boulder on the roadside leading from Shap to Orton, within a mile of Shap Spa.
The worst behaviour related of this Galloway “dobbie” was in connection with a well-known local carrier. He had passed the stone scores of times and “hed niver seen nowt nea [..] nor hissel’.” Nor on this memorable occasion did he see “owt” – that pleasure was reserved for his powerful steed. For one night on returning from market, the usually quiet, steady-going nag “took the st[..] – i.e., a determined stand – as it neared the block; and neither by coaxing nor threats could be got to move.

The animal ended matters by rearing and getting the mastery; then it smashed carrier’s cart, and damaged his marketing stuff, chiefly goods of his neighbours, alas; that the poor horse was completely unnerved was obvious from its trembling, foaming commotion.

Other human beings in the district were more unfortunate, for they did see uncanny objects at that very spot: “Summat ter’ble,” with the natural result that they were “varra n’ar scarred to death.”

[*]these words were in the gully of the scan and I couldn’t read or guess them! From ‘A glimpse of Shap Fells’ in the Yorkshire Post, 12th October 1910.

The lady [in this narrative] was no less than a princess and queen. She lived as long ago as Saxon times in a city on Eddisbury Hill. The hill can be seen to this day to the south of Delamere Station and only a mile away.

Ethelfleda, for that is the lady’s name (now reduced to Ethel), was a daughter of Alfred the Great, and she ruled over the kingdom of Mercia right up to the banks of the Mersey. She married Ethelred (not the Ethelred of history). [...] She ruled the city of Eddisbury firmly and well. But after she died, it fell into all sorts of lawlessness and disorder, so that it was destroyed, and not one stone stands upon another. But broad lines, marked by the turf in darker green where the damp is arrested, still shew the presence of foundations, and there is, or was, an old draw-well, partly filled up and fringed with thorns and briers.

[...] Why the spirit of the lady should haunt a woodland brook more than a mile away, and why the turbulent souls of the departed city should stream down the hill at night (according to the testimony of a well-known farmer, long since gone to his rest), seems purposeless and inconceivable. does the lady go to meet anyone, and are the turbulent souls afflicted with insatiable thurst?

“Dinna thee goo thear – there’s a buggin thear,” said an elderly native, as I struck into the forest on a summer night, along the well-known Buggin Walk, by a woodland brook! Turning back to the old gentleman for particulars of identification I was told the lady was of commanding presence, with long, golden tresses – dressed, of course, in a white costume, but not of the prevailing fashion – that the lady seemed to be expecting someone – in short, this was the Lady Ethelfleda! [...] J. A.

From the Cheshire Observer, 6th March 1915.

Cornwall has lost a county figure in the death, at the age of 84, of Miss Lydia Harris Borlase, of Castle Horneck, Penzance. Miss Borlase was a member of one of the oldest families in Cornwall, and was connected with other county families. ... For a long period the family seat was at Pendeen Manor. Later, Castle Horneck, near Penzance, became the family home. ... One of its features is a secret tunnel which led from an old cellar to an earthwork near Lesingey Round by the St Just road. Few local people know of the existence of this subterranean passage. The reason for its construction is apparently unknown. ...

From the Western Morning News, 18th April 1939.

I do kind of wonder if this isn’t confused, as there is of course the Fogou at Pendeen. But since Lesingey Round gets a namecheck, perhaps it isn’t. Perhaps all one’s country houses should have an underground tunnel to the nearest ancient landscape feature of note.

Speaking of Miss Borlase, I found another article mentioning both her and the Round, from the Cornish Telegraph of the 3rd of August 1899: “The monthly excursion of the Penzance Natural History and Antiquarian Society took place on Friday, the spot chosen being Lesingey Round. ... About seventy-five years ago the owner of the land planted trees on the spot, thus making it difficult for the antiquary to prosecute his researches. ... After admiring the beautiful and varied view afforded from the “Fort”, the excursionists made tracks for the charming grounds of Castle Horneck, where, through the kindness of the Misses Borlase, the party found agreeable and welcome entertainment in the shape of refreshments, an ever popular feature after the serious business of antiquarian research.

Ho or Howe Stone, Balcunnin.
There is a very large stone called the ‘Ho or Howe Stone’ in a field near Balcunnin crossroads. One going along the main road from Lusk to Skerries can view the ‘Ho stone’ in the field on the right hand side of the road. It is only a distance of twenty yards from the Balcunnin Cross Roads. It is about five feet in height and must weigh about 3 or 4 tons in weight. There is a smaller stone near it but whether this was broken from the original stone it would be difficult to state.

This ‘Ho stone’ resembles the Cromlech stones which are to be seen in many parts of Ireland but there is no visible inscription on it. Some say that it was part of Baldungan Castle that was destroyed in the rebellion of 1641 but this would belie the suggestion that the castle was destoryed by Cromwell from the sea as it is situated on the same road as Cromwell’s Bush. If Cromwell destroyed Baldungan Castle from Loughshinny by cannon fire it is very unlikely that a mass of stone weighing some tons could be blown for such a distances, as it is almost a half mile from the site of the castle.

Local tradition states that it covers the entrance to a cavern or passage which leads to Baldungan Castle but no effort has ever been made to prove this assertion. The defenders of the Castle are supposed to have retracted into this passage with their valuables and when the Castle was levelled the passage is supposed to have caved in on them. There seems to be no entrance from Baldungan Castle at present to this supposed passage, but the entrance may have been choked by falling debris which still remains concealing the entrance.

Collected from Mr Caffrey, Balcunnin, Skerries, by Mr Byrne, NT Milverton, Skerries.

From the 1930s Schools Collection of folklore, online at Duchas.ie.

The Old Grave in the Kill of the Grange.

On the entrance of the old grave yard of the old Kill of the Grange you will see an old grave, which has a legend attached to it. A servant lady who was a Catholic worked for a Protestant people and soon forgot her religion. One morning she went to Holy Communion and after receiving she took the Holy Sacrament from her mouth and put it into her pocket. When she reached home, she cut it with a knife and it started to bleed. Six months later she died a most agonising death. At her funeral the hearse stopped at the gate and would not go any further so they had to bury her at the gate.

I’d like to hazard that this story (a.k.a. terrifying threat to children to frighten them into being obedient serious Catholics) refers to the stone? What do you think, Ryaner? It was collected and written down in the 1930s as part of the Schools’ Collection of folklore (now to be seen at Duchas.ie.

An ancient standing stone of a slab form, about 12 or 13 feet high, 4 broad and about 10 inches in thickness. The Country tradition is, that it is a momento over the ashes of some ancient hero.

If you read that in 21st century English you get the impression the writer wasn’t that interested, complete with shrug. But perhaps it’s literally what the country people told him, in which case fair enough. Recorded in the Argyll Ordance Survey Name Books (1868-78).

Maun’s Stone.
Applies to a large stone of a roundish shape, built on an old fence, forming a side of the public road leading from New Deer to Brucklay Castle. Tradition asserts that it has been the putting stone of a Giant in ancient times. There are several holes in the stone, said to be the finger marks of the Giant.

From the Aberdeenshire Ordnance Survey Name Book, vol. 65 (1865-71). A map of the time shows it here, though Scotland’s Rock Art Project visited in 2018 (according to the details on Canmore) and only found a hawthorn hedge and some barbed wire. One can only hope that it’s still in the bank somewhere? Perhaps the finger marks are cup marks.

Wormy Hillock.
This is an exiguous or small mound, situated at the Southern base of the Hill of Finglenny, and overlooking the Ellachie Burn. Tradition hath it that a Hydra, which sprung, not from the Swamps of Lund as some people think, but from the flats of Morayshire, and among other notable exploids bit its way through Balloch Hill, and thus opened up the passage of “Glacks of Balloch,” from Mortlach to Cabrach.

From what Hercules it received its death wound, or by what destiny this monster met its fate, on the Ellachie Burn, tradition saith not, but merely that here the monster’s course was arrested. A worm of the same genus named the Python, perished by Apollo’s shafts.

I don’t know how he knew it was in the same genus but it was an opportunity to show off a bit of classical education I suppose. Anyway, then there’s some notes in a different hand (James McDonald), and you can’t say he didn’t look into it properly, having ‘dug all over the place’. But it’s interesting if the henge was indeed an adaptation of an naturally existing landscape feature.

“Note: I examined this hillock and believe it is simply a “round” for the protection of a few sheep during snow storms. It has been originally a naturally formed Knoll and a deep trench has been dug out round the base, the material being used to form the circular dyke. On digging here and there over the centre mound there was no evidence of the ground ever having been disturbed. It is no doubt possible that an urn containing bones was deposited here but I dug pits all over the place and found nothing but a natural layer of gravel. A fort it never could have been. An enemy might have climbed the hill beside it and pelted the ‘garrison’ with stones until they were glad to flee for their lives. I would leave the name Wormy Hillock and cut out tumulus. I believe in the Dragon story but not about the Danes!”

(The ‘tumulus’ actually seems to refer to somewhere else nearby, maybe the cairn near Rhynie).

From the Aberdeenshire Ordnance Survey Name Books (1865-1), volume 78.

Mr Hunter says there is an old story about [the Bridge of Tillypestle] being the scene of a fight between two giants. Mr Hunter says they killed each other and were buried on two hills close by, one on Knapperty Hill, and the other on Cairndale hill, and he says that two cairns were erected to commemorate the affair. The cairn on Knapperty Hill is still to be seen but Cairndale Hill can boast of but slight traces of the cairn that stood on it.

From the Aberdeenshire Ordnance Survey Name Books (1865-71).

Tillypestle Bridge is about half way between Knapperty Hill (the site of Auchmachar cairn and circle) and Cairndale hill. The large cairn on Cairndale Hill “was removed by the farmer at Coilsmore, for the purpose of building dykes on this farm.”

This magical sounding spot is on the slopes of Beinn Lora above the cairn, less than half a mile away. So I thought you might like to hear about it. On the 1870s map it seems to be at NM 91892 37029.

It’s recorded in the Ordnance Survey Name Books for Argyll, collected 1868-78 (you can see the nice handwritten entry online at Scotlands Places.)

There’s Tobar Bial na Buaidh, the well of the virtuous water: “a small spring on the hill side to the north of Achnacreemore. It was much frequented in old times, even in the memory of some yet living, on account of the supposed virtues of its waters in curing disease.”

And Craobh Bial na Buaidh, the tree of the virtuous water: “a tree which stands near the above well. In the trunk of this tree there is a large hollow into which it was considered necessary for any person either drinking or taking away any of the water of the well to deposit something lest they should incur the displeasure of the spirit who was supposed to keep watch over it (the well).”

Around 4000 years ago, eight or more people were buried in Càrn Ban. One was a woman, laid on one side with her legs curled up to fit into the small stone chamber. White quartz rocks and pottery urns were buried with her, perhaps because they were believed to be important in the afterlife. In 1792, four of these chambers or cists were uncovered by local people as they took the stone away to build dykes, but when they opened them, they were hit with an intolerable stench that gave them violent headaches.

From ‘Visit Gigha‘

Since the Bronze Age or earlier, Carragh an Tairbeirt standing stone has marked the narrowest point of Gigha, tall enough to be seen from the sea from both east and west. The name might be familiar – there are several places named Tarbert (An Tairbeart or Tairbeirt in Gaelic) across Scotland, on narrow necks of land where boats could be drawn or carried from water to water. The stone marks this isthmus, but it’s likely to have had deeper meaning. Was its placement linked to cycles of the Moon or to the midsummer sunset?

Local legend knows it as the Giant’s Tooth, pulled and thrown by a giant with toothache. It’s also known as the Hanging Stone, where people convicted at nearby Cnoc an Eireachdais – the Hill of the Assembly – were hanged from the cleft at the top. Or perhaps you prefer the story of betrothed couples who shook hands through the gap for luck.

From ‘Visit Gigha‘

With its strong stone walls, built partly along the edge of a 10-metre cliff, this was perhaps Gigha’s most imposing ancient fortification. It is said to have belonged to Chibhich (or Keefie), the son of a Norse king, whose story is entwined with the Irish legend of Diarmuid and Gráinne. Gráinne was daughter to the Irish king. Escaping marriage to the aging warrior, Fionn MacCool, she fled north with her lover, Diarmuid, but on Gigha she fell for Chibhich. Diarmuid fought Chibhich, killing him, and the latter is said to be buried in a grave south of the summit.

From ‘Visit Gigha‘

BODACH & CAILLEACH

At noon and night these stones are said to walk the heaths of Gigha. To us they are the Bodach and Cailleach, the old man and old woman in Gaelic. The Cailleach, the smaller stone, is the goddess of wilderness and winter. They may have links to pre-Christian Ireland over 1,500 years ago – Irish sailors still placed offerings here in the 19th century. But they are not alone. Similar-shaped bodachs are found in Perthshire, while other bodachs and cailleachs are woven into Highland and Hebridean landscapes. Tradition tells us that our Bodach must always face Ireland and that it’s bad luck if he falls – so tread carefully!

From ‘Visit Gigha‘

At Cultoquhey there is a small camp, in which urns and ashes have been dug up, and this, probably, was connected with the great camp at Fendoch. Tradition says that here Cmohal Cult, the father of Fingal, fought with the Romans and lost the battle.

From the Strathearn Herald, 13th May 1933. This is kind of ambiguously worded? The father of Fingal would naturally be found at an Iron Age fort like Cultoquhey. (The camp at Fendoch is Roman).

Queries. 11. Holed Stone at Claverton Down.
In the field called Bushey Norwood, on Claverton Down, is an upright stone with a hole in it. As this has been and may be again taken for a holed stone of prehistoric origin, such as the Cornish Men-an-Tol and others of like nature, it may be well to know its origin. The hole in the stone is obviously due to the limestone weathering when the stone was recumbent on its bed. I have heard two accounts of its origin, firstly that it was erected to commemorate the fatal duel between Viscount du Barri and Count de Rice, and more prosately that it commemorates a favourite horse. Can anyone give accurate information on this point? – A.T.W., Monkton Combe. (Bath Chronicle, 1st July 1933.)

Some years ago I asked a friend the history of this stone, and was told that it was a rubbing post for horses or cattle. They were tethered to it – a rope being passed through a hole in the stone, and that such stones were not uncommon. I do not know if this is correct. M.A., Bath. (Bath Chronicle, 29th July 1933)

Mr Gerald Grey writes, “I know the stone of old. There were many like it when first I knew Bushey Norwood. They were lying on the surface. The late squire, Mr Henry Duncan Skrine, had this particular stone raised upright to mark the spot where he had one or two favourite horses buried. The rest of the stones were used in the Bath Botanical Gardens and the Clifton Zoo for making rockeries. The site of the Du Barri duel was on the boundary of Claverton and Hampton Downs [...]” – A.T.W., Monkton Combe. (Bath Chronicle, 5th August 1933)

Like all such exchanges things get shirty after a bit, and on the 12th August K.E.S from Exmouth writes to say everyone’s wrong (“The response to the inquiry for exact information has been far from exact”). I would type it all out but I didn’t like his righteous tone. “There can be little doubt that these stones were connected with the religious rites of Ancient Britons, and they were probably deliberately cast down either in military attack or to end, by forcible means, the religious practices of the Priests of the Sun.”

Perhaps this is sheer poppycock (after all, it was published in the Silly Season in the Daily Mail, and does read rather like fiction). But it surely captures the romance of such an area. And it’d be fun to think it were a true experience. I notice it’s peculiarly geographically specific for just a story. And personally, I’d be in an altered state fit to hallucinate if I’d just hiked up a hill.

Scottish ‘wraith’ stories are perhaps a little played out, writes Mr James A. Pickop, to the editor of the London ‘Daily Mail,’ but I cannot refrain from sending you an account of my extraordinary experience during the past week in the Highlands, in the hope that some of your readers can throw some light on the matter.

During the course of a short walking tour in the Highalnds I arrived on the evening of Thursday, August 18, on the road between Ardfern and Ford, in the valley of the River Barbreck (Argyllshire). Though I wished to get to Ford by nightfall, the beauty of the sunset enticed me to mount a hill on the left of the road overlooking the grounds of --- House and commanding a splendid view of the loch (Craignish) and islands.

Just before I reached the summit I was startled to see a figure on a rock above me. I had been looking straight before me and could not imagine how I had escaped seeing the man or woman approach. On drawing nearer I saw the figure to be that of a very tall girl. She wore apparently a short skirt and a plaid or golf cape of some darkish brown or green tartan. Her long hair was blowing wildly round a face the features of which I was not near enough to remark, but which I could see to be of extraordinary whiteness. She appeared at first as though she neither heard nor saw me; the next moment she beckoned to me wildly, ran to the rock’s edge, and was gone.

I ran to the spot and looked over. There was hardly cover for a rabbit on the hillside, which sloped extremely steeply to the woods round --- House. I was so bewildered by the swiftness of her disappearance that it was some minutes before I decided that I must investigate the matter more fully. I descended the hill, calling all the time, and finally went through the wood at the foot to --- House to inquire if any of the house party had lost their way or been hurt on the hill.

On inquiry I found that --- House is at present let to an eminent London physician. Upon my inquiry he became exceedingly interested, and told me that several of his house party had been much disturbed by the sight of this same figure, a tall girl. I was introduced to a sufficiently typical and phlegmatic young Englishman, who gave me very tersely what was in all respects a replica of my own experience, except that in his case the figure had simply run a few paces downhill and then vanished into thin air. He could offer no explanation, and added that he and others in the party had heard cries which seemed to be those of pain or anger on the summit of this hill.

Another member of the party had seen the figure of a tall pale woman nearer the house, and had been much startled. There are other families of English tenants near by in lodges on the Barbreck who have seen the figure, but I have not heard their account. Many legends are connected with this valley, and the ghillies and shepherds have, I hear, many circumstantial stories of the ‘hooded maiden of Barbreck.’ Time alone forbade me from searching the valley for further evidence.

From inquiries made by the --- House party and others it is made perfectly certain that no girl in the very least answering to this description lives in the scattered community of this thinly-populated district. I may add that I have never before had any occult or psychic experience whatever.

As reprinted in the Grimsby Daily Telegraph, 27th August 1910.

At the northern extremity of the island, on the top of a hill, there is a circular heap of stones, called Carn-na-faire, or Watch Cairn, 53 feet diameter. It seems to have been a place of some strength, and intended, as the name implies, to give the alarm in case of an invasion, for it commands a very extensive view of the sea from S.W. by N. to S.E.

From volume 7 of the New Statistical Account of Scotland (1845).

Norton Bavant. ... The village lies at the foot of a remarkable old British encampment known as Scratchbury, one of the finest, largest, and best preserved of the many in this neighbourhood. Leading up the encampment is what is known as “The Nuns’ Path,” and it is stated that a nunnery formerly existed near Scratchbury, at a place called Middleton, which forms part of Norton Bavant Parish.

The Warminster Herald, 12th August 1882.

Heytesbury. Independent Sunday School. On Whit-Sunday the anniversary in connection with this school was held. [...] On Whit-Monday the children assembled at the schoolrooms in the morning, and from thence paraded the principal streets headed by the Heytesbury Amateur Fife and Drum Band. Divine service was held, after which they marched through the town again and then dispersed till the afternoon when they came to the schools and had plum cake and tea. Then they went on Cotley Hill, where hearty games was indulged in till dusk, when they sang a few hymns and separated, being highly pleased with the day’s outing.

Wiltshire Times, 22nd May 1880.

Congregational Sunday Schools. On Wednesday the scholars of these Sunday Schools had an outing to Cotley Hill, where various amusements were indulged in and refreshments provided. The Heytesbury Brass Band, under Mr. T. Cross’s leadership, was in attendance, and played a capital selection of music. The outing, it will be remembered, was postponed from Whit Monday, on account of the inclemency of the weather.

Warminster and Westbury Journal, 20th June 1885.

In addition to being a good spot for musical outings, twenty years earlier everyone ended up after the celebrations for the marriage of the Prince of Wales. There was a distribution of money from Lord Heytesbury, a parade with a fife and drum band, and the children were ‘bountifully regaled with tea, cake and oranges in the National School-room’.

There was also a bonfire on Cotley Hill (famed by antiquarians), near the large barrow which the Romans are supposed to have used as an exploring post. From this elevated spot, which commands a most extensive view, as many as twenty-four bonfires were seen lighting up the distant hills on the night of this joyous day.

Salisbury and Winchester Journal, 14th March 1863.