Latest Folklore

A MONUMENTAL (?) STONE. -- On a small farm near Aberdunant, named Y Fach Goch, is to be seen a curious stone having a monumental appearance. The oldest inhabitant of the hamlet of Prenteg, Sian Griffith, who attained her ninety-fifth year in June 1886, tells a tale thereanent to the effect that it was talked of as having much gold beneath it when she was a girl. It was said that whoever should dig down to get it would raise such a storm of thunder and lightning as the world has never known, and that they would wish they were dead.
H.W.L.

From the 1886 edition of Archaeologia Cambrensis (p235).

Said in local folklore to have been a thunderbolt cast down from the skies by Thor, God of storms, (Corbett, 1962), and first recorded in the late thirteenth century in the survey of the Chadlington hundred. It is possible that the name Thor Stone is from the name of a nearby village of Taston, recorded as Thorstan in 1278 CE. Close by is a stone cross, placed there by early Christians to abate the evil influences from the Thor Stone

Between these two old monuments was once an elm tree which was a meeting place of the villagers in times gone by (Pumphrey,1990)

Local legend connects the stone with the burial place of Merlin the Wizard. Merlin was said to be buried 183m NNW of Drumelzier Church, close to the right bank of the River Tweed. There are no structural remains and none have ever been recorded at the place in question, but it is possible that the tradition may have been originated from the unrecorded descovery of a Bronze Age cist in the area, which links to the Drumelzier Stone.

There aren’t any details about this stone on its Coflein record. Maybe this unpleasant / unlikely story is about it. (Maybe it’s about the Gwern Einion stone but that, at 1m, would hardly seem to be towering anywhere.) Or maybe you know the stone it refers to. You’d hope it’d be safe if it was in a wall.

In the parish of Llanfair, on a small farm called Gwern Einion, is [a] cromlech, of larger proportions than those already mentioned [...]

Not far from this spot is a remarkably fine maenhir, built in the middle of a high wall; over which it towers, and presents a conspicuous mark against the setting sun. This stone, local authorities say, was originally dedicated to the sun; and when it was judged expedient to burn a human victim in honour of that luminary, the unfortunate sufferer was secured by iron chains to the stone. The lower part of the stone is now embedded in the wall, so it is not easy to make out the traces of the fire; which otherwise would, no doubt, be discovered, and believed by the peasants of the district. There is little doubt that many other monuments of the same character have once existed in this district, as here and there fragments of them may be found in the stone walls which divide the enclosures.

From ‘Cromlechs in North Wales’ by E L Barnwell, in Archaeologia Cambrensis Vol. 15 (1869).

About a mile from the Summer House, to which a pleasant path conducts the visitor, -- in the wood of Stanton Meend, stands a curiosity highly deserving notice, called BUCKSTONE.

This ponderous body of rock, on whose summit many persons might be commodiously seated, rests literally on a pivot so small, that is will scarcely be believed by the spectator, more especially when he is informed that it has remained so for ages. It is generally supposed to be a Druidical relique, of which there are many of the sort in this kingdom.

The Rev. Dr. Booker thus mentions it, in his Poem called the “Hop Garden:“--

The most perfect the Author ever saw, is in a fine wood, the property of Lord GAGE, near Monmouth, commonly called the ‘Buckstone;’ probably from the Deer having been accustomed to resort to it, both as ‘a shadow from the heat, and a shelter from the storm.’ The tradition that a BUCK, in order to escape from its hunters, when closely pursued, bounded upon the top of it, -- only merits a place among those marvellous legends which are received by idle credulity.

So exactly does this gigantic insulated Rock seem to equilibrate, that a spectator would almost suppose, he could dislodge it from its narrow base with the force of his single arm, and send it headlong down the steep declivity on which it stands. Such attempts, an aged villager informed the author, he had often seen made, by the united efforts of a number of stout young rustics; and that he had perceived it gently to move in a kind of rocking motion; but invariably settling on its ancient pivot, from which it is evidently detatched.-- Close by it is another Druidical relique, not unlike a small baptismal font, or rather Romish recess for holy water; used, most probably, for some sacrificial purpose.

Mr. KING, in his “Munimenta Antiqua,” certainly alludes to this stone:--
[...] “At a small distance, to the east, is a rock scooped into a kind of bason, with a channel, seemingly intended to let out the water after it is filled to a certain height. Whether this was a work of art or nature, may be doubtful; but the whole seems to indicate a Druidical superstitious designation.”

From the extravagantly titled ‘Descriptive account of the Kymin Pavilion and Beaulieu Grove, with their various views: also, the Naval Temple with new notices of Buckstone, a supposed Druidical relique, near it : to which is added, Lord Nelson’s visit to Monmouth, his speeches and conversation at the dinner table, his own remarks on his important victories, with his public reception at Rudhall, Hereford, and other places, on his tour’ by Charles Heath. (Hume Tracts, 1813).

Old traditions, crumbling with time..

I suspect that this news comes in defence of folklore which in turn preserves the archaeological monuments by superstition or ‘piseogs’ to use the rather lovely Irish word.........

Superstitions may seem strange and baseless, but somehow they have clung on for thousands of years. Are they a sign of respect for the past and if so just how much longer might they last?

WHEN I WAS growing up, there was a ring fort at the end of our road. We were warned not to play there. It was accepted that fairy forts contained some mystique or potential for harm. Our parents were probably told the same by their parents, and so on through the generations. But has belief in science and technology replaced faith in superstitions?

Perhaps not. Dara Molloy, a former Roman Catholic priest based on Inis Mór, is in demand to perform Celtic rituals and blessings. When we spoke last week, he was at a wedding ceremony in which he used blessings dating from what he terms “Celtic Christianity”. It involves the tying of knots and sprinkling of water from a nearby well. These practices predate the Roman Catholic Church, he says, and are more in keeping with old Irish customs and beliefs. “We held on to a lot of traditions but they were pushed to the margins of the church,” he says. “People still visit holy wells, climb Croagh Patrick or go to Lough Derg, but many other Irish customs and traditions didn’t carry on and some local priests were instrumental in encouraging them to be abandoned.”

Molloy says when he first moved to the Aran Islands 25 years ago, he was struck by the reverence the locals had for ancient sites and monuments. “Neighbours of mine on Inis Mór who were born and raised on the island had never been up to the hill fort of Dún Aengus,” he says. “One of the reasons given was that their parents wouldn’t let them. They said the place was lived in by the sióga or other world folk. Nowadays some young locals want to have their weddings up there because they believe the energy of the sióga is there. The belief hasn’t been lost. It is just used differently. I have witnessed young adults who want to go to Dún Aengus and sleep there overnight to get the feeling that is up there.”

That feeling may relate to the fact the site has been used by locals for centuries as a place of gathering or safety.

Piseogs [superstitions] are still heeded on the islands too, says Molloy. That is why a red-haired woman who turns up at a door on New Year’s Eve is unlikely to be shown indoors. “It would be a bad omen for the coming years,” he says.

Colm Moloney, managing director of Headland Archaeology, says much has been lost in recent years in relation to Irish folklore. “My own childhood revolved around my dad, who spent a lot of his time walking his greyhounds (and his children) around the landscape of east Cork. Every hill, river, nook and cranny had a story attached to it and he told them so well it was captivating,” he says. “Modern Ireland does not readily facilitate this kind of activity. Landowners have a problem with people wandering across their land and kids have so much to distract them, it is near impossible to get them outside.”

Moloney says much of our folklore is in danger in the hands of the current generation. “The Irish psyche has changed. The respect that was there for the past is losing ground. Our knowledge and links to the past through oral traditions were what made us unique.”

There have been reports recently that a farmer destroyed a ring fort in Co Cork. This would not have occurred a decade ago, he says. Folklore often existed to protect the built heritage and vice versa.

“Every country boy knew the traditions associated with ring forts,” he says. “If you touched the fairy forts something very bad would happen to you. This tradition and similar kinds of piseog resulted in the preservation of archaeological monuments across the country, probably for thousands of years.

“This is a frightening development, where 30 sq m of farmland is of greater value than a monument that may have stood on that spot for 1,200 years.”

EMILY ROSS

irishtimes.com/newspaper/features/2011/0104/1224286698278.html

Cdw o Frydain, (or Caw of North Britain,) and Lord of Cwm Cawlwyd, who then lived in Edeyrnion, or its neighbourhood, and had two sons; the eldest was the famous Gildas, the querulous historian, an excellent scholar; the second was Huail, a perfect libertine. Arthur becomes jealous of the latter’s having an intrigue with one of his mistresses; -- resolves to go privately armed, to watch his going to her house: he soon appeared; and after a short conversation, they drew, and fought. After a long conflict, Huail had the good fortune to wound Arthur terribly in the thigh: upon this, the contest ceased, and a reconciliation took place, upon condition that Huail, under the penalty of losing his head, should never upbraid the king with this advantage he had over him, &c.

Arthur retires to his palace, which was then at Caerwys, in Flintshire, to be cured of his wound: he recovered; but it occasioned his limping a little ever after. As soon as he got well, he fell in love with a lady at Rhuthin, in Denbighshire; and, in order to carry on his intrigue more privately, he dressed himself in female attirement; and, as he was dancing with her and her companions, Huail happened to see him, and knew him on account of his lameness; and said, “this dancing might do very well but for the thigh.” The king overheard him, and withdrew, and sent for Huail; and after upbraiding him with the breach of his promise and oath, ordered him to be beheaded upon a stone, which lay in the street of the town, which was, from this event, denominated Maen Huail, and which it retained in the author’s time. (It is still to be seen at Ruthin.)

Copied from Edward Lhuyd’s manuscripts, which was transcribed by him from a Welsh MS. of the hand-writing of John Jones of Gelli Lyfdy, in Flintshire, dated June 27, 1611.

Arthur sounds rather like a humourless double-standarded philanderer with no sense of proportion? And you thought he was noble and fair.

From ‘The Bardic Museum’ by Edward Jones, 1802.

Sometimes there breaks out water in the manner of a sudden land flood, out of certain stones (that are like rocks) standing aloft in open fields near the rising of the river Kenet in this shire, which is reputed by the common people a fore runner of death. That the sudden eruption of Springs in places, where they use not always to run, should be a sign of death, is no wonder. For these usuall eruptions (which in Kent we call Nailbourns) are caused by extream gluts of rain, or lasting wet weather, and never happen but in wet years (witness the year 1648 when there were many of them) In which years Wheat, and most other grain thrive not well (for a plain reason) and therefore a dearth succeeds the year following.

From ‘Britania Baconica: or, The natural rarities of England, Scotland, and Wales’, written by J Childrey (1662).

In Saint Cleeres parish in Cornwall, there are upon a plain six or eight Stones, such as are upon Salisbury plain, which like them two will be mistaken in the telling; so that when they are told over again, they will be found over or under the first number. A thing, that happens (no doubt) meerly by their confused standing.

From ‘Britania Baconica: or, The natural rarities of England, Scotland, and Wales’, written by J Childrey (1662).

I assume this is the right location, it doesn’t seem unreasonable?

King James IV. in a frolick once joined a company of gypsies, who were here making merry, and when the liquor began to operate, the gypsies, as usual with people of their character, began to quarrel among themselves; upon this his Majesty attempted to mediate between the parties, but they, ignorant of the rank of their new associate, were about to handle him pretty roughly for his goodness, which obliged the King to discover himself; in allusion to this affair, the cave was afterwards ironically called the Court Cave.

From the Old Statistical Account for Wemyss parish.

There is a tradition that, upon a pretty high hill about a mile to the south-west of that town {Abernethy} called the Castle Law, in one of the three lochs or small round lakes upon the top of it; there is a golden cradle hid, in which the {Pictish} king’s children were wont to be rocked...

Carney-venn, which obviously appears to have had connection with this Castle Law, and is supposed to have been the place where the treasures or things of the greatest value were kept... The tradition in the immediate neighbourhood is that there were at some remote period, some golden keys found in a small rivulet or stream that runs past this place, which were supposed to have belonged to this Carney-venn; and the popular tradition of the country in general is very lavish respecting some treasure concealed
“Betwixt Castle Law and Carney Vase
As would enrich a’ Scotland ane by ane.”
(Small, pp. 142, 143.)

There is a legend which attaches to the small loch on the top of the Castle Law; and well do I recollect of having in my schoolboy days, an undeined feeling of terror in approaching too near its dreaded waters...

Note.-- The traditions is, that if you run nine times round the loch, muttering a spell --the words of which, however, are too modern to be genuine-- a hand will arise from a golden cradle, and pull you in.
(Laing, p.20.)

‘Small’ is the Rev. Andrew Small’s ‘Interesting Roman Antiqities Recently Discovered in Fife’ (1823), and ‘Laing’ is ‘Notice of the Ancient Ecclesiastical History of Abernethy and of the Condition of the Early Inhabitants of Scotland’ (1861). Collected by John Ewart Simpkins in County Folk-lore vol. 7.

I suppose this is right, but I can’t figure out the Carney Venn?

There’s also a cave called the Witches’ Hole in the steep north face of the Law.

At the date of my visit this cist had been emptied to a depth of nearly two feet. Possibly the spirit of research had been whetted by a tradition – well known in the district – that the cairn concealed a bullock’s hide filled with gold. Be that as it may, all that rewarded the searchers was a fragment or two of whitish clay.

[..] It is of interest to note that some of the pieces of clay bear distinct impressions of the finger .. no doubt made when the soft clay was pressed in position.
No one can fail to regret that this fine old cairn should have lasted through those untold ages – only to be plundered for road metal.

‘Notice of the discovery of a stone-age cist in a large cairn at Stroanfreggan, parish of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire’ by John Corrie, in PSAS May 8th, 1911.

Another version:

Some eighteen years ago, while exploring the limestone caves at Llanamynech, on the English border of Montgomeryshire, I met with [this] story. A man playing the bagpipes is said to have entered one of the caves, well provisioned with Welsh mutton, and after he had been in for some time his bagpipes were heard two miles from the entrance, underneath the small town of Llanamynech. He never returned to tell his tale. The few bones found in the cave are supposed to be those which he had picked on the way.

From p34 of ‘Cave Hunting’ by W. Boyd Dawkins (1874).

On the summit of the hill we met two boys herding cows [...and] we were curious enough to ask them if they ever heard of Coinneach Odhar [the Brahan Seer] in the district, and if he ever said anything regarding the fort on Knockfarrel. They took us to what they called “Fingal’s Well,” in the interior of the ruined fort, and said that this well was used by the inhabitants of the fortress “until Fingal, one day, drove them out, and placed a large stone over the well, which has ever since kept the water from oozing up, after which he jumped to the other side of the (Strathpeffer) valley.”

There being considerable rains for some days prior to our visit, water could be seen in the “well,” but one of the boys drove down his stick until he reached the stone, producing a hollow sound which unmistakably indicated the existence of a cavity beneath it. ”Coinneach Odhar foretold,” said the boy, “that if ever that stone was taken out of its place, Loch Ussie would ooze up through the well and flood the valley below to such an extent that ships would sail up to Strathpeffer and be fastened to Clach an Tiompan; and this would happen after the stone had fallen three times. It has already fallen twice, ” continued our youthful informant, “and you can now see it newly raised, strongly and carefully propped up, near the end of the doctor’s house.”

From ‘The Prophecies of the Brahan Seer’ by Alexander Mackenzie (1877).

If one of these is the Clach an t-Seasaidh, as Postman suggests, then it’s got some gory folklore:

We have received various versions of the, as yet, unfulfilled prediction regarding Clach an t-Seasaidh, near the Muir of Ord. This is an angular stone, sharp at the top, which at one time stood upright, and was of considerable height. It is now partly broken and lying on the ground.
“The day will come when the ravens will, from the top of it, drink their three fulls, for three successive days, of the blood of the Mackenzies.”

Mr Maclennan’s version is:- “The day will come when the ravens will drink their full of the Mackenzies’ blood three times off the top of the Clach Mhor, and glad am I (continues the Seer) that I will not live to see that day, for a bloody and destructive battle will be fought on the Muir of Ord. A squint-eyed (cam), pox-pitted, tailor will originate the battle; for men will become so scarce in those days that each of seven women will strive hard for the squint-eyed tailor’s heart and hand, and out of this strife the conflict will originate.”

Mr Macintyre writes regarding these:- “The prophecies that ‘the raven would drink from the top of Clach-an-t’-seasaidh, its full of the blood of the Mackenzies for three successive days’, and ‘that the Mackenzies would be so reduced in numbers, that they would all be taken in an open fishing-boat (scuta dubh) back to Ireland from whence they originally came, remain still unfulfilled.”

From ‘The Prophecies of the Brahan Seer’ by Alexander Mackenzie (1877).

A tradition exists regarding the stone. It seems that some fifty years ago an old man who occupied the farm of Taendore carried the stone to his house, either from a belief of some latent virtue or for more prosaic purposes. For three successive nights after its removal the family were disturbed by loud, mysterious noises, which on the third night reached a climax. The sounds were intensified, cattle bellowed, dogs howled all over the valley, and a dread voice, in tones of thunder, exclaimed in distinct syllables, “Put back that stone!” Instant obedience was given by the terror-stricken inmates, and the stone has rested untouched since then, and its mystic guardian has been silent.

Whispers are not uncommon in the district, that the stone also possesses hidden virtues similar to those of the font at Killianan on Loch Ness and other stones, when childless women bathe in its cloud-drawn waters immediately before sunrise.

From p387 of ‘On cup-marked stones in the neighbourhood of Inverness’ by William Jolly, in v16 of PSAS (1881/2).

In reference to the circular lately received asking for information about boulders, I beg to forward a few particulars respecting four. They are all in the parish of Lunnasting, on the estate of Lunna, and the property of Robert Bell, Esq., sheriff of Falkirk.

No. 1. Height 22ft. 9 in.; length 36ft.; breadth 25ft.; shape, angular; direction of longest axis S.E. and N.W.; height above sea level 150-200ft.
No. 2. Height 19ft; length 34ft.; breadth 14ft.; angular; direction of longest axis N.E. and S.W.; height above sea level 150 to 200ft.
No. 3. Height 11ft. 4in.; length 8ft. 7 in.; breadth 8ft. 2in.; angular; direction of longest axis S.E. and N.W.; height above sea 150 to 200ft.
No. 4. Height 7ft. 10in.; length 8ft. 7in.; breadth 3ft. 2in.; wedge-shaped; direction of longest axis S.E. and N.W.; height above sea 300 to 400ft.

Nos. 1, 2, and 3 stand all near each other in the northern part of the parish, and not far from the sea. Nos. 1 and 2 are separated only by a distance of 10 or 12 feet, the intervening space being filled with large masses of stone which appear to have fallen from No. 2. No. 4 stands by itself, surrounded by deep moss, within a few yards of the highest point of a hill about four miles to the south of the other three. Its longest axis runs parallel to the face of the hill. It is known by the name of the “standing stone” of the south hill of Lunna.
No. 3 has no special designation.
Nos. 1 and 2 are known as “the stones of Stofas.” “Stofas” is said to be a corruption of stay fast, and the legend accounting for the name is that it was given to the stones from the circumstance that they were originally two giants passing through Lunnaness, and coverted into stone by some superior power who arrested their progress by pronouncing the words “stay fast.”

From the Eighth report of the Boulder Committee (oh yes) of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 1882.

The grid reference is for the South Hill of Lunna, stone number 4. I have not checked any old maps for sign of the others, but perhaps they’re still known locally?

“The Wierdstone of Brisingamen” by Alan Garner is now out in its 50th anniversary edition.
Am reading for the first time – magical and scary. Great escapism for those journeys on public transport.

The Battle Of Barra

The battle was fought on May 23rd, 1308. The army of King Robert The Bruce routed that of John Comyn, Earl Of Buchan. Bruce’s victory marked the turning point in his bid to become king.

The battle is believed to have taken place on the lower slopes (Oldmeldrum side) of Barra Hill.

This chair shaped stone had previously lay higher up Barra Hill. Legend has it that Bruce, who was ill at the time, watched the battle from it.

Meldrum and Bourtie Society.

This stone is just inside the graveyard here by Loch Rannoch. I found a photo of it here (a fuzzy photo of it apparently whitewashed and with added photoshop blood) on ‘El Vicente’s Homepage‘ where the folklore associated with it is retold in lively style (taken from ‘Tales of Rannoch’ by A D Cunningham). Well as lively as a story about dashing small children’s heads out on rocks can be I suppose. An extra long version is in this edition of the Celtic Magazine from 1887.

It’s not on the RCAHMS map at all. But could it still be old? Perhaps someone has seen it in person.

The cave in the story is in amongst the crags below the fort and above the river.

Of the cave (Ogof y Coed Cochion) I have fond memories. About twenty-five or thirty men can stand inside it. That will suggest to the reader the approximate size. It is undoubtedly an artificial cave on the ledge of a steep castellated rock, and neither man nor wild beast could well approach and commit depredations if the caveman and his family kept their eyes open. It is a comfortable dry room in the rock right opposite the farm Sarphle, and has a crevice about four or five yards long, opened out to the surface, to answer the purpose of a chimney.

I once dug a hole in the floor of the cave in “search of treasure”, or for pieces of brass left by the mythological smith who made the Brazen Head, the Pen Pres, as we call it. It was to this Ynca-fashioned high home in the frowning rock the farm-boys of the period crept from cliff to cliff on all-fours on Easter Sundays to boil eggs. To eat eggs on that day was a custom as sacred as those performed on Pancake Tuesdays and Hot-Cross Bun days. [..] It was a genuine traditional usage, and no wicked freak of servant boys given to steal eggs and eat them.

We quote Dr Phene’s narrative, given the form of a dialogue between himself and his guide, Mr. William Jones, an inhabitant of Llangollen, and the Doctor’s version of the legend:--

“We now approach Penbryn , the house of Mrs Phebe Hughes, mother to the poet John Ceiriog*. The house was placed near where the ridge terminated. It was just getting dark, and Mrs. Hughes was already preparing to retire, when Mr. Morris explained, in Welsh, my request that the tradition of the cave might be given me. The conversation was conducted in Welsh, and the narrative, which was evidently curtailed from the desire of Mrs. Hughes to retire, was as follows:--

” ‘In former times a man, who was a smith, lived in the cave which overhangs the river Ceiriog. This man was commanded, by some unseen powers, to make a head of brass. It was to be of great size, and to be made after a style described to him. The smith was not to sleep during the whole time he was making the brazen head, nor until it had revealed to him all the knowledge man could know. The matter became known, and as soon as it was found that the head would require weeks to make, persons were directed to keep the smith awake, by pricking him with needles and pins. This continued until the smith’s work was accomplished. This being so, the head began to speak, and, addressing its maker, stated:-- “I will tell you first three things, and then I will explain them, and give the knowledge to you. I know-- 1. What has been. 2. What is. 3. What will be.” The assembled people were so astounded by the sound of a voice from the head, that their guard over the smith was forgotten. This no sooner ceased than the wearied metallurgist fell asleep, and the head ceased for ever the statement it had begun.’ ”

Next it’s implied that there is a rock-cut chamber under the house (apparently with its own spring), and that’s where the cave-dwelling smith made the head. But that seems so unnecessary when you’ve got a nice cave. And then there’s an even more elaborate version of the story.

From Dyffryn Ceiriog Folk-Lore, by *John Ceiriog Hughes, in Collections Historical & Archaeological Relating to Montgomeryshire, v 17 (1884).

I don’t know if these really are the stones to which the story relates, but this site could certainly fit and is near Killala Bay. He’s not exactly the flamboyant storyteller and seems to have forgotten some fairly important details. But never mind.

Some few years ago, when staying in Co. Sligo, I met with rather an interesting legend [to do with stone circles] which is only very locally known. The stones are called “Mc.Dowd and his children.” This Mc.Dowd, it appears, was a fisherman, and when pursuing his occupation in Killala Bay, was in the habit of meeting with a mermaid. These meetings ended in their betrothment and in his finally taking here home; but on their way he perceived that she carried a wand which he felt some suspicion about, and after considering the matter over, he quietly arose during the night and hid it. When in the morning Mrs Mc.Dowd discovered her loss, she became almost disconsolate. Years passed over, the wand was at last found, and, returning into the house, she touched with it each of her children and Mr. Mc.Dowd, and they were at once turned into stone, and then she fled back to her old sea life in Killala Bay, which is close to where these stones may be seen.

From ‘Pre-historic remains in the Lake District, a paper’ by W. Kinsey Dover (1880).

I heard some folklore today, unprompted, and I hope the person who told it won’t mind me retelling it here. He said that when his father was young (this might be about 60 or more years ago) he lived on Skye for a while, and he’d gone on a long walk over the Cuilleans, accompanying a local man. It took them five hours to get across the mountains and his father then assumed they’d walk the flat way back, along the road. But he was very surprised when his guide said ‘well goodbye then’ and made to set off the way they’d come. It transpired that the short route home went past a green mound (where, my narrator said, there were, as we would say, fairies, but it was a bronze age burial mound) – and the guide was under no circumstances about to walk past it now that the dusk was falling. He would rather take the five hours back over the mountains in the dark. Which, according to the tale, he did.

The highest summit in Wales is generally known as Snowdon, no doubt since it is often snow-clad during the winter months. In Welsh, however, it is known as Yr Wyddfa, which translates as ‘the tomb’.... I’ve also heard it referred to as Yr Wyddfa Fawr, ‘the great tomb’, or ‘burial place’. Legend has it that the summit cairn, at 3,560ft, marked the final resting place of Rhita Fawr, a war-like giant finally put in his place by none other than Arthur (yes, him again). Must have been a pretty big cairn to ostensibly cover a giant, one would have thought? More’s the pity – nay, calamity – therefore, that it has been thoroughly decimated, not only by countless visitors to the summit, but by the construction of the railway and summit cafe, thus leaving Carnedd Llewleyn’s monument as surely the highest surviving of it’s type in Wales.

According to The Gwynedd Archaeological Trust (PRN13943) Yr Wyddfa’s cairn is:

‘A presumable Bronze Age funerary cairn located on the summit of the highest mountain in Wales. The original cairn has been altered beyond recognition by generations of hill walkers, mountaineers and sightseers. A trig point marks the highest point.‘

What might have been, eh? It’s also interesting to note that the great eastern face of Yr Wyddfa is known as Clogwyn y Garnedd (’Crag of the Cairn’) and overlooks Glaslyn, source of the Afon Glaslyn. Enough said, perhaps?

A small mound or hillock hollowed out in the centre. It is now partly filled up and defaced by a ditch cut through it. The local tradition is that it was made and used by a person called ‘Tam’ during the time of religious persecution in Scotland. It is also a well known point on the boundary of Marnoch and Forglen.

Name Book 1866.