Latest Folklore

There is a curious prophecy connected with a stone situated near the ruins of the chapel of Arnchly, and which is worth recording. From time immemorial this stone went under the name of the “Peace Stone,” and it was held in great reverence by the natives. One Pharic McPharic, a noted Gaelic prophet, foretold that, in the course of time, this stone would be buried underground by two brothers, who, for their indiscretion, were to die childless. By-and-by the stone would rise to the surface, and by the time it was fairly above ground, a battle was to be fought on “Auchveity,” that is, “Betty’s Field.” The battle was to be long and fierce, until “Gramoch-Cam” of Glenny, that is, “Graham of the one eye,” would sweep from the “Bay-wood” with his clan and decide the contest. After the battle, a large raven was to alight on the stone and drink the blood of the fallen. So much for the prophecy then; now for the fulfilment. About fifty years ago, two brothers (tenants of the farm of Arnchly), finding that the stone interfered with their agricultural labours, made a large trench, and had it put several feet below the surface. Very singular, indeed, both these men, although married, died without leaving any issue. With the labouring of the field for a number of years, the stone has actually made its appearance above ground, and there is at present living a descendant of the Grahams of Glenny who is blind of one eye, and the ravens are daily hovering over the devoted field. Tremble ye natives! and rivals of the “Hero Grahams,” keep an eye on Gramoch-Cam!

Something quite unusual – a cup marked stone with folklore. From ‘Summer at the Lake of Monteith’, by P Dun (1867).

[Cromlechs in North Wales] bear a great variety of names in popular speech ... that at Bodowyr (like the Bryn Celli Ddu chamber) is “The Cave” ... thus did the popular fancy play around these ponderous structures, of the real meaning and purpose of which it had long lost all knowledge.

From ‘Memorials of Old North Wales’ by E Alfred Jones (1913).

About a mile and a half from (Caherconlish) there is a high limestone hill called Knockeen, “little hill”. An old, old man, however, told me that the hill was properly Cnoc Fhinn, that is “the hill of Fionn,” and sadi he heard it was so called from its being the first place in county Limerick at which Fionn was seen after having slain the Ceannurran, “a Cyclops, or one-eyed giant,” near the Suir. [following this is a long story about Fionn.]

There are several caves in Knockeen through which one may penetrate the hill for long distances. The people say that one of these caves has an outlet in a curious looking hole called Poul Eyon, about two miles to the north-east, at the other side of the Mulkear, and not far from Brittas Castle. They tell a story about a dog having been thrown into Poul Eyon and coming out at Knockeen. Poul Eyon is a natural hole in a rock, about thirty feet in depth and fifteen in width. One may notice from the top openings into three caves at the bottom.

From an article about Caherconlish by J F Lynch, in the Journal of the Cork Historical and Archaeological Society v2 (!896).

“St. Declan’s stone” is on the beach; it is a large rock, resting on two others which elevate it a little above the ground. On the 24th of July, the festival of the saint, numbers of the lowest class do penance on their bare knees around the stone, and some, with great pain and difficulty, creep under it, in expectation of thereby curing or preventing, what it is much more likely to create, rheumatic affections of the back.

The sarcasm would be amusing if it wasn’t for the dismissive ‘lowest class’ remark?! From ‘The history, topography and antiquities of the county and city of Waterford; with an account of the present state of the peasantry of that part of the south of Ireland’ by R H Ryland (1824).

For more details, ideally you’d want the original of the following account from Philip Dixon Hardy’s ‘Holy Wells of Ireland’ (1836) but I can only give you the paraphrased version in Borlase’s 1893 ‘Age of the Saints’. The date of the shenanigans alters here, but if it was indeed in December, maybe a shot of whisky wouldn’t have gone amiss:

The festival of St. Declan was held at Ardmore, in the county of Waterford, on December 23. It was attended by several thousand persons of all ages and both sexes.

‘The greater part of the extensive strand which forms the western part of Ardmore Bay was literally covered by a dense mass of people. Tents were spread, each with its green ensign, for the sale of whisky. The devotional exercises were commenced at an early hour in the day, by passing under the holy rock of St. Declan in a state of half-nudity. Stretched at full length on the ground on the face and stomach, each devotee moved forward, as if in the act of swimming, and thus squeezed or dragged their bodies through. Both sexes were obliged to submit to this humiliating mode of proceeding. Upwards of 1,100 persons were observed to go through this ceremony in the course of the day [...]‘

[Hardy] describes the fair on the seashore – the tents, with food and liquor, and the cards, dice, wheels of fortune, and the like. The stone, which is on the margin of the sea, is, he says, of the same kind as the neighbouring rocks, and weighs some two or three tons. It is said to have been floated on the sea from Italy, crowned with nine bells, which came opportunely, as the priest was in want of a bell, and was about to celebrate Mass. Since then the stone has been venerated for its miraculous cures.

It is only at low water that people can go under the stone and perform their devotions there; they must always take advantage of the tide. On the Saint’s day it was always necessary to remove some of the sand which had accumulated under the stone, to make a sufficient passage for a large man or woman.

As the little rocks on which the stone rests form irregular pillars – like the supporting stones in a dolmen, in fact – it is necessary to have the surface under the stone lower than the front or rear. As a commencement the men took off hats, coats, shoes, stockings, and, if very large, their waistcoats, and turned up their breeches above the knee; then, lying flat on the ground, put in hands, arms, and head – one shoulder more forward than the other, in order to work their way through more easily – and coming out from under the stone at the other end (from front to rear being a distance of, perhaps, four feet) rose on their knees and struck their backs three times against the stone, removing beads and repeating aves all the while. They then proceeded on bare knees over a number of little rocks to the place where they had to enter again under the stone, and thus proceeded three times, which done they washed their knees, bodies, and dress, and made for [St. Declan’s well]. The women went through the ceremony in the same manner as the men, taking off bonnets, shoes, and stockings, and turning up their petticoats above the knee, so that they might go through the exercise on bare knees.

[…] In illustration of the strength of the popular devotion for St. Declan’s Stone, that priests had actually whipped the people from it, but they continued their superstitions in spite of them, and in consequence some priests were content to let things alone and wink at the practice.

Consistently with such a [supernatural] origin concerning this said Dyke, many and curious traditions are afloat. It is a weird, or wizard spot, upon its bank nothing of good omen happens. I have been told in perfect good faith, by one who dwelt near it, that on Grimsdyke the unhappy Jane Shore perished, being starved to death by King Richard’s order, a baker being also put to death for his compassion in offering her a penny loaf. A curious connexion in which to find an historic name, and showing how great names and tragic events are rumoured amongst the people, though often, as in this case, in a distorted shape. That fairies make fun or make mischief, that ghosts and spectres have peculiar liberty on the soil of the Dyke, is the current belief of the country gossips.

Jane Shaw, in the 15th century, was mistress to King Edward IV. A paranoid King Richard accused her of stuff but as far as I can tell (from a quick internet trawl) didn’t actually kill her off. Perhaps the story comes from another connected with ‘shoreditch’ in which, in a ballad, she dies.

Excerpt is from ‘Records of Buckinghamshire’published by the Buckinghamshire Archaeological Society, 1858.

In Notes and Queries (I. ix. 536) I find, “On the highest mound of the hill over Weston-super-Mare, is a heap of stones to which every fisherman in his daily walk to Sand Bay, Kewstoke, contributes one towards his day’s good fishing.”

The same superstition is mentioned by Mr. Jackson in his ”Visitor’s Handbook to Weston“: he gives the name of the mound as Peak Winnard.

On asking an old inhabitant of Worle if he knew the custom referred to, he replied that many a time he had thrown his stone upon the heap on his way from Worle down to the fishery at Birn-beck. Every one, he said, threw a stone, saying as he did so, “Pickwinna,” (or rather) “Peek weena,
Send me a deesh of feesh for my deener.”

Alas! the sprats have now forsaken Weston Bay and the sprat fishery seems likely to become a thing of the past. Had my old informant been alive he would, I doubt not, have ascribed their departure to the neglect of the due observance of Pickwinna.

From a letter by W F Rose in Somerset and Dorset Notes and Queries, v III, 1893.

“Some mounds on the Thorncombe Beacon and Langdon Hill are called the Devil’s Jumps”. It is said that the mounds were made where the devil bounced when the abbott of Forde Abbey kicked him out to sea.

“There are some burial mounds in a field by the road between Bere Regis and Wimborne. It is said that treasure is buried in these mounds.” The legend may have been caused by the barrow digging of Shipp and Durden here in 1854. (Palmer 1973 p149)

In 1881 an Iron Age smith’s hoard was found within the earthworks of this fort, and Edward Cunnington investigated the discovery. He found the old woman and the conversation went much as in Rhiannon’s post, however he went to the sons house and found the animal nailed above the front door. The “little dog” was in fact a bull, one of two now to be found in Dorset County Museum.

“Conig or Kings Castle, as its name implies, is said to have been the headquarters of King Egbert when he fought his brave, but losing battle against the Danes at Charmouth beach in 833” (Turner 1947). The same romantic etymology has occured to other authors, with similar developements: in fact the name means what it says, rabbits’ castle.

There are at least seven round barrows on the overlooking ground close by, but the Fairy Stones are in a chalk valley below. They are weird brecca-y stones sticking out of the ground. One would imagine they are the home of fairies, but they have other uses:

The superstitious among men, in order to see their future love, would hie them to the fairy stones, at Burdale, and there, with the full moon brightly shining, at midnight, would see the one who should be all the world to them.

From ‘Folk Lore of East Yorkshire’ by John Nicholson (1890).

This silly story sounds like it could apply to Dunnabridge Pound, but the location doesn’t quite tally up. There are quite a few little enclosures in this area, so maybe it refers to one of those instead.

Mounting the steep bank we crossed the road, and passing up by the ruined buildings which were connected with Brimpts Mine, we pointed straight for Loughter Tor. On the slope of this tor, near the summit, is a kind of small cattle pound, an oblong enclosure with high walls, having a gateway on its higher side. It is jocularly reputed to have been constructed as ”a measure for sheep“! Instead of counting the animals they were driven within this enclosure, and as the exact number of sheep it would contain was known, when it was full all trouble of counting was unnecessary, and so it was said the sheep instead of being numbered, were measured!

From ‘Amid Devonia’s Alps’ by William Crossing (1888).

I learn from Mr. Robinson, of Hill House, Reeth, Yorkshire, that in his neighbourhood as in many others is a place called Maiden’s Castle, in which tradition avers a chest of gold is buried. “Many attempts,” he says, “have been made to gain possession of the treasure, and one party of adventurers actually came up to the chest and laid hold of it, when a hen appeared, flapped her wings, and put out the light. This occurred three times, and the men were obliged to desist. The next day was Sunday, still they returned to the place. A violent storm of thunder and rain came on, however, and the ‘drift,’ in miners’ phrase, ‘ran’. My informant, an old man of the place, knew this, he said, for a fact.”

From ‘Notes on the folk-lore of the northern counties of England and the borders’ by William Henderson (1879).

Who knows which barrow this could now refer to? it is / was somewhere on Ecton Hill, so near this cave. But it gives a flavour of the folklore that such places inspire.

In the digging open a Low on Ecton hill near Warslow in this County, there were found mens bones as I was told of an extraordinary Size, which were preserved for some time by one Mr. Hamilton Vicar of Alstonfield; and I was inform’d of the like dugg up at Mare in the foundation of the Tower; but these being buryed again, or otherwise disposed of before I came there, I can say little to them.

From Robert Plot’s ‘Natural History of Staffordshire’ of 1686 (hence all the italics.)

“The Stone House” is close to Acaun Bridge, in the field on the east of the river, below the bridge. The stone which forms the roof of the cromlech is about 14 feet in length, and was said to have been thrown by a giant, the mark of whose hand is still to be seen on the under side.

From ‘County Wicklow Archaeological Notes Around Kiltegan’ by C Drury, in the Journal of the Co. Kildare Archaeological Society and Surrounding Districts (1905).

“Quite often the offerings were of some foodstuff, particularly milk. Some of the stories were named after gruagach – supernatural beings who watched over cattle and dairy work – and offerings of milk were left at these stones in return for good harvests and other agricultural benefits. Offerings of milk were left at the Clach Na Gruagach on Colonsay. Marks on the stone were said to have been caused by ropes used to tie the gruagach to it.”

Joyce Miller.

Magic and Witchcraft In Scotland.

In addition to the tale of a tunnel connecting this site and Caerau:

It is said to have been the abode of one IOAN ; but whether he was saint or sinner is not known. On one occasion it is said that, when pursued by the enemy, he crossed the stream, and left the impression of the hoof of his charger on the stone, which has something like the mark of a horse’s shoe upon it.

[..]

The old chronicler of Caerau, who used to say that he had been baptized by a vicar of St. Dogmaels (dead since 1768), and who had spent almost all his lifetime on the farm of Penrallt Ceibwr, was alive a few months ago. He told me that the whole neighbourhood was considered “fou.” That men were led astray there all night, not knowing whither they went until cock-crowing, when they discovered that they were not far from home (hence the white gate-posts). A man carrying a bundle of hoop-rods, in one of these midnight wanderings, dropped them one by one to ascertain the extent of his journey ; and when he went after them in the morning, he found he had travelled an incredible number of miles. A St. Dogmaels fisherman having been to a wedding at Moilgrove, lost his bearings on his way home at night, and was for some hours not able to find his course, until at last he fortunately discovered the north pole (? the polar star), by which he sailed homewards ....

This, however, cannot be said of them all; for an old clerical friend of mine of sober habits, had once the honour of joining in this magic dance for the great part of a night. All the land round Caerau was once unclosed, which may account, in some measure, for these vagaries.

From ‘The History of St Dogmael’s Abbey’ by Emily Pritchard (1907), who was actually quoting the Rev. Henry Vincent in Archaeologia Cambrensis, Oct. 1864. The book also mentions some local stoney folklore, about the Sagranus ogham stone, which served for ages as a bridge over the aforementioned stream and with a White Lady crossing over it at midnight, and no-one wanted to touch it after dark. Then it was mysteriously transferred to the vicar’s wall, and afterwards to the church.

In the road near Caerau, and opposite the second embankment (Caerau consists of three concentric, circular embankments within and above each other at intervals of about twenty yards ; with an elevation in the second of two feet, and in the third, or innermost, of four feet). There are some men living who remember these embankments much higher than they are at present ; particularly the innermost agger, which on the seaward side was about ten feet, is a hollow which rings when any wheeled vehicle goes over it. About eighty years ago two men had the curiosity to dig there, and they solemnly declared that they came to the frame of a doorway ; but when they went to dinner, the rain descended, accompanied by thunder and lighting, and on their return the whole was closed, as they supposed by supernatural agency. A little above the place where they had been digging they affirmed that there had been no rain.

At Castell Ion some stairs were seen, supposed to lead to some passage. A farmer’s wife about ninety years since, having risen very early one morning, was thus accosted by a woman bearing the semblance of a gipsy : ‘’ Would you like to take your rest of a morning instead of leaving your bed so early ? ” ” Yes,” was the reply.
” Then,” said the woman, ” if you dig in a certain spot in the subterranean passage between Caerau and Castell Ion, you will find what will make you the richest lady in the land.”

About sixty years ago a respectable man declared that he was cutting a hedge between Trefas and Pant y Groes when a grey-headed old man came to him and told him that there was an underground way from Caerau to Pentre-Evan ; and that if he excavated a certain place he would find two hundred ” murk ” (? marks).

A woman once appeared to a ploughboy and told him that there were ten murk under the threshold of Caerau Bach. When the cottage, which had been probably built on the site of the outpost referred to, was taken down, a number of people assembled to search for the marks, but none were found.

From Henry Vincent’s article on ‘Caerau in the parish of St Dogmells’ in Archaeologia Cambrensis, Oct. 1864.

The knock on the eastern boundary of the parish [of Alves] is crowned by a tower, from which an extensive view of the surrounding country and of Ross and Sutherland across the Moray Firth can be commanded. By tradition the knock is connected with the story of Macbeth and the witches. Possibly there may be some foundation for this, as the knock is on the road between Bothgownan and the Blasted Heath, the one by a curious coincidence being about three miles east of Elgin, and the other a similar distance from Nairn.

From ‘The Place Names of Elginshire’ by Donald Matheson (1905). (Foundation??)

I say, that in the memorie of some yet living, this Hoc-tide feast [to celebrate the death of king Hardicanute and the freeing of the English from Danish rule] was yearly solemnized by the best inhabitants, both men and women, in Hexton, in the fields and streetes, with strange kind of pastime and jollities. Some of their sports, and, namely, that of pulling at the pole, I will relate.

They did yearly, against everie Hock Day, elect two officers called the Hockers, a man and a woman, whose office it was to provide the hock ale, and to governa dn order the feast for that year; these hockers had each of them a large birchenn broome; and on Hock Monday morning which falls out, as I take it, between Easter and Whitsontyde, many, and amongst them the most substantial of them (for boyes and girles were not admitted) did go together to the toppe of Weyting Hill; on the very toppe of which hill, being the highest in this parish, was one of those borowes or grave hills (which now the mattock and the plow have worne down). And ther was yearlie a long and a very strong ashen pole fastened into the ground, which the women with great courage did assale and pull downe, striving with all their force to bring it downe the hill, which the men did defend pulling it up the hyll; but by reason of the great stepenes of the mountayne, the women, by that advantage, hayled it to the fote of the hill; and, though the men were so waggishe as that when they perceived the women to pull most stronglye, then, they would all wholy lett goe, wherby the women fell over and over; yet for that the women would not give over, and, when they had brought ye pole to levell ground, then some good fellowes would help the women, the hockers laying lustilye about them with their bromes, and allwayes the matter was so handled that the women overcame, thrusting the men into the ditches and into the brooks (the men hockers allwayes taking the womens parte); and if they got any of the weaker men into their hands whom they could master, them they would baffle and besmear, and thus they laboured incessantlye two or three houres, not giving over till they had brought the pole and sett it up at the Crosse by the Towne House doore, where a great number of people were attending their coming.

And then, the women having provided good cheere, they brought it into the Towne House, and did there all eate and drink together, and that without any affront or dislike taken at any hand. And, after they had eaten, then the hockers did gather money of everie one what they pleased to give, part of it then given to the poore, the remaining money the hockers delivered to the churchwardens, who lay’d out the same in the reparation of the Church and bells, and the like.

Francis Taverner, who lived in the first part of the 17th century, quoted in W B Gerish’s ‘The Hock-tide observance at Hexton in Hertfordshire’ (1910). Hocktide (debatably) falls on the second Monday and Tuesday after Easter. You can read some more about here, on ‘Wilson’s Almanac’:
wilsonsalmanac.com/hocktide.html

“Cup marks on the Rothiemay recumbent stone represented the Pole Star, the constellation of the Great Bear (Ursa Major) and the brightest stars such as Artacus, Bootes, Aldebaran, Capella, Vega and Altair.”

Revd. G. F. Browne.

On Some Antiquities in the Neighbourhood of Dunecht House.

Apparently Roger Sherman Loomis, an Arthurian scholar, thought that Grassholm (Gresholm) was the location of ‘Gwales’, the place where Bran’s men stayed in the Mabinogion legend ‘Branwen the daughter of Llyr’.I don’t know how he came to this conclusion as I haven’t been able to find his argument yet.

And Bendigeid Vran commanded them that they should cut off his head. “And take you my head,” said he, “and bear it even unto the White Mount, in London, and bury it there, with the face towards France. And a long time will you be upon the road. In Harlech you will be feasting seven years, the birds of Rhiannon singing unto you the while. And all that time the head will be to you as pleasant company as it ever was when on my body. And at Gwales in Penvro you will be fourscore years, and you may remain there, and the head with you uncorrupted, until you open the door that looks towards Aber Henvelen, and towards Cornwall. And after you have opened that door, there you may no longer tarry, set forth then to London to bury the head, and go straight forward.

From the Lady Charlotte Guest translation, which you can see at the Sacred Texts Archive, for example.

Peculiar islandish goings-on are not unknown in the vicinity:

I venture to quote from the Pembroke County Guardian. Mr. Ferrar Fenton [..] writes in the issue of Nov. 1, 1896, giving a report which he had received one summer morning from Captain John Evans, since deceased. It is to the effect ‘that once when trending up the Channel, and passing Grasholm Island, in what he had always known as deep water, he was surprised to see to windward of him a large tract of land covered with a beautiful green meadow. It was not, however, above water, but just a few feet below, say two or three, so that the grass waved and swam about as the ripple flowed over it, in a most delightful way to the eye, so that as watched it made one feel quite drowsy. You know, he continued, I have heard old people say there is a floating island off there, that sometimes rises to the surface, or nearly, and then sinks down again fathoms deep, so that no one sees it for years, and when nobody expects it comes up again for a while. How it may be, I do not know, but that is what they say.‘

From ‘Celtic Folklore’ by John Rhys. A cynic might put it down to all the fertiliser coming off the island. But that’s not terribly romantic.

“A ley-line runs from, or at least an alignment, runs from the RSC west of the castle (Fraser) through a pair of standing stones close to the road and onwards east to the single menhir at Lauchentilly. The first two monuments can only be visited when the field is not in crop.”

The New View From Over Atlantis.

John Michell.

“The magnificent Stone of Morphie sits next to the road through the farm where George Beatties ill fated romance took place. (he committed suicide after his betrothed dumped him) The 11ft monolith was once used as the core of a grain stack, and in that guise was blown down – along with the stack – by a hurricane in 1850. Six years later, digging prior to re-erection unearthed a skeleton. Folklorically, it marks the grave of the mythical Danish leader Camus.

The stone’s surface bears the fingerprints of the local kelpie, who was also enslaved by the local laird to build the now-vanished Morphie Castle. This kelpie lived in the Ponage Pool in the (river) North Esk and achieved lasting fame in the poem John o ‘Arnha’, a kind of Kincardinshire version of Tam o’ Shanter written by the tragic George Beattie. John Findlay, John o ‘Arnha’ was a boastful and authoritarian Town Officer whom Beattie knew well. The poem was turned into a play and performed at the Theatre Royal in Montrose in 1826, with the principal actor wearing Findlay’s own red coat. The action concerns the fearless John who works his way up the supernatural food chain, besting the kelpie, a group of witches, and finally Old Nick himself.”

Mysterious Aberdeenshire – Geoff Holder

‘Stand aff, ye fiend, and dread my wraith,
Or soon I’ll steek your een in death:,
Not you nor a’ the hounds of hell,
Can my undaunted courage quell.‘

John O’ Arnha – George Beattie (1883 edition)

“The irregularly-shaped Court Stane is one of those standing stones which attracts folkloric jetsam. The name could come from the site of an old feudal court of the Barony of Mondynes (which may mean there was a stone circle here – just like at Old Rayne); or perhaps it was emblematic of the authority of a Steward or Thane. More theatrically, it is said to mark where Duncan II was killed in 1094. In 2004 the stone was a bright white, courtesy of a tradition of unknown purpose maintained by the estate. In recent years the paint has not been renewed and the stone has reverted to its native grey.”

Mysterious Aberdeenshire.

Geoff Holder.