Latest Folklore

Six late-4th century bronze coins were found around one of the chambers of this barrow. Now it’s always possible that this was the result of a visitor with holes in his or her pockets. And there’s also a traditional idea of a ‘hoard’ of coins, where people stashed them intending to come back. But according to this article*coins of this era have been found at various prehistoric sites... as though they were left as some kind of nod to the local ancestors – perhaps a gift, or a payment for something, or you know, just your vague ‘votive / ritual activity’ type thing. I suppose one question would be how much were the coins worth? Another thing could be what the coins symbolised to their owners – was having money a flashy thing? and leaving money (rather than leaving a different sort of thing) a way of showing your status to the dead/living, – or was cash just the way their society worked by that time, and the obvious thing to leave? Questions questions.

*’Roman Wealth, Native Ritual: Coin Hoards within and beyond Roman Britain’ by N. B. Aitchison, in World Archaeology, Vol. 20, No. 2 (1988), pp. 270-284.

This sensibly named hill is right between Battlesbury Camp and Scratchbury, and is crowned by a be-treed round barrow.

Under it’s alternative name, Starr Hill, it was the location for many a ufo sighting during the famous Warminster ufo flap in the 1960s.
ufo-warminster.co.uk/index.html

Of course its proximity to Salisbury Plain has nothing to do with strange aerial lights. Really.

If you want to walk to the top of Garn Bentyrch, the footpath will take you straight past Ffynnon Gybi, a holy well, which emerges on the south east side of the hill.

Ffynnon Gybi, or St. Cybi’s Well, in the parish of Llangybi [..] there the girls who wished to know their lover’s intentions would spread their pocket-handkerchiefs on the water of the well, and, if the water pushed the handkerchiefs to the south – in Welsh i’r de – they knew that everything was right – in Welsh o dde – and that their lovers were honest and honourable in their intentions; but, if the water shifted the handkerchiefs northwards, they concluded the contrary. A reference to this is made in severe terms by a modern Welsh poet, as follows:-

Ambell ddyn, gwaelddyn, a gyrch
I bant goris Moel Bentyrch,
Mewn gobaith mai hen Gybi
Glodfawr sydd yn llwyddaw’r lli.

Some folks, worthless folks, visit
A hollow below Moel Bentyrch,
In hopes that ancient Kybi
Of noble fame blesses the flood.

From ‘Sacred Wells in Wales’ by John Rhys and T. E. Morris, in
Folklore, Vol. 4, No. 1 (Mar., 1893), pp. 55-79.

T E Morris added: “I was [..] at Llangybi, in Carnarvonshire, about two years ago, and saw Ffynnon Gybi (St. Cybi’s Well), which lies in a small dale near the parish church, and had been walled in and flagged. It is a large square well, and was formerly very much resorted to by persons suffering from rheumatism and other complaints. To effect a cure it was necessary to bathe in the well; and the building adjoining, the ruins of which remain, was possibly used by the suffers.”

“Black dogs are scattered fairly widely over the Cotswolds and are of different kinds; some of them are human ghosts, some of them doggy and some are evil spirits. One on Birdlip Hill is a helpful spirit who guides lost travellers. Ruth Tongue however heard of another visitant on Birdlip Hill, the Devil. She heard the following tale from a groom in Cheltenham in 1926:

‘There was a shepherd above Birdlip Hill, and there was Old Nick on the road to catch travellers. The shepherd wanted a potion for a sick ewe from the farm below.

He went afoot – horses and carts never went that road. Horses don’t care for devils. So Old Nick was glad to see him pass. ‘I’ll have him on the way back’ says he.

The shepherd had a black jack there and his drinking-horn filled to cheer him on the long uphill road, and he wrapped up the sheep’s medecine which smelt nasty and hot, and started off. Up he goes and up till he comes to the turn near Black Dog’s Lane.

He’d a notion that Old Nick might be about there, so before he passes it he has a swig of ale from the horn to hearten himself, and pours back in some of the sheep’s tonic, well-boiled.

Then he goes on up.

Out comes Old Nick and grabs him. ‘Ale!’ says he. ‘Good brown ale.‘

‘Spiced for you, sir, special,’ says the shepherd civilly, handing the horn, and taking to his heels.

Old Nick was in such a hurry to catch him that he gulped the drink down first, and then it – the sheep tonic – caught him. They heard him roar right away in Cheltenham.

He never goes near Birdlip Hill now!’”

From “The Folklore of the Cotswolds” – Katharine M. Briggs (1974 Batsford).

Perhaps no place in Ireland seems closer to the dark Celtic Otherworld than “Spink-ana-gaev"or Pinnacle Rock, a strange and eerie pile of boulders. “St Patrick’s Chair” is a massive block about 2 metres high, shaped like a chair and probably at least partly-artificial, sitting on a another large block amongst a dozen or more other blocks, one of which has a cup-mark and an unfinished cup-mark. Below the Chair is the well – in fact an open chamber above which is another massive boulder containing a fine bullaun 25 cms in diameter. It is said “never to run dry” – this is not surprising as the fern-covered site is like a miniature rain forest: every rock drips with water. A supporting boulder has a good cup-mark. Between the bullaun and the chair above are two Rag Trees, where some ‘offerings’ remain.

From Anthony Weir’s excellent ‘Irish Megaliths’ website.
irishmegaliths.org.uk/tyrone.htm

A little more detail from the NISMR:

“The chair faces S & is 1.7m high & 1.6m broad; the seat part is 0.75m high.

“The “well” consists of a large flat stone slab with a large bullaun & a possible smaller one on its upper face. There is a small cup mark carved on a supporting stone below. The large slab rests on several tumbled boulders. The bullaun is c.0.25m in diam. & 0.1m deep.”

According to the information in the NISMR, this is a portal tomb consisting of a cairn 27 x 10 x 2m, containing three cists. The one at the east end is large – 6ft by 4ft – and was accessed through two portal stones and a sill.

... this region is rich in places associated with the Patrician mission. A Neolithic chambered cairn on the south-west summit of Knockroe, to the south-east of Clogher, is called Carnfadrig [Carn Phadraig, ‘Patrick’s mound’], and due east of this, at Altadaven, is St Patrick’s Chair and Well, the latter comprising a large cupmark in a rock.

p129 in ‘Ireland: An Oxford Archaeological Guide to Sites from Earliest Times to AD 1600’, by Andrew Halpin, Conor Newman (2006).

According to tradition, the Passage tomb at the top of Knockmany Forest Park (reached by turning at the obelisk in Clogher), just north of Augher and overlooking the Clogher Valley, is the burial place of Baine, wife of Tuathal Teachtmhar. According to propagandist legends, Tuathal returned from exile and carved out Ireland’s fifth province of Mide (Meath).

p127 in ‘Ireland: An Oxford Archaeological Guide to Sites from Earliest Times to AD 1600’, by Andrew Halpin, Conor Newman (2006).

Regarding the Parish of Tongue:

A semicircular chain of mountains passes nearly through the middle of the parish, the principle of which are Knoc-Rheacadan, (The Watchman’s Hill), Ben Laoghal, and Ben Hope. Ben Laoghal is almost a perpendicular rock, deeply furrowed, and about half a mile high. As it declines towards the west, it is broken into several craggy points, on one of which are seen the remains of a building, called by the country people Caistal nan Druidhich, the Druid’s Castle.

...

Ben Laoghal is famed, in the songs of the bards, as the scene of the death of Dermid, a young man of such extraordinary beauty, that no female heart, of that age, could resist; and withal of such prowess, that even Fingal, whose wife he had seduced, would not himself attack him, but found means to get him slain by a boar. He and the lady, or the boar, (it is not yet determined which), lie buried at the foot of the mountain.

From v3 of the Statistical Account of Scotland of the 1790s.

In his book “All Roads Lead to Tallaght” (published by South Dublin Libraries), Patrick Healy says: “According to Malachi Horan this was known as Kenny’s Stone from a man named Kenny who found an urn full of gold in it.”

Here at the mouth of Munlochy Bay there are the traces of more than half a dozen cairns. And at the end beyond them, on the tip of the land, a cave, about which the RCAHMS record says:

Craigiehowe Cave is traditionally inhabited by the Fingalians.
At the mouth is a dripping well which is resorted to as a cure for deafness.
W J Watson 1904. (Place Names of Ross and Cromarty).

The Statistical Account of the 1790s mentions that:

There is one large cove in this parish, at a place called Craig-a-chow (a name given it for its famous echo) at the entrance of the bay of Munlochy, it is very large and reaches far into the rock, so far indeed that the farmers in the neighbourhood were obliged to shut it up toward the hill with rubbish; for, when their sheep and goats strayed into it, they were never again seen nor heard of. The mouth of the cave was made up with stone and lime several years ago, by traders who secured and secreted smuggled goods in it; but since that contraband trade has been abolished on this coast, the mason work is fallen to decay. The cave could easily contain, I am told, a whole ship’s cargo.

In this cave, there is a spring of water to which the superstitious part of the people attribute a medicinal effect, and still repair to it on the first Sunday of every quarter, for a cure to any malady or disease under which they happen to labour. The water is said to be particularly famous for restoring the sense of hearing, by pouring a few drops of it into the affected ear; but this, in my opinion, must be owing to the cold and piercing quality of the water forcing its way through the obstructions of the ear. The coldness of this water is greater than any I ever tasted, and no wonder, for the sun never shines upon it, and it oozes through a considerable body of rock.

There is a hill called Dick, or Dickmount-law, which is said, in one of the statistical accounts, to signify a rampart of protection or peace. It is about a mile E. of the church, and seems to have been very much adapted to both the abovementioned purposes. On the top of this hill there is a large cairn, now covered with grass, and hollow in the middle, where the baron held his courts. From it there is oneof the most extensive prospects in this country. There is a view of the Grampian hills, for more than 30 miles, the coast of Fife for about 18 miles, the Isle of May, the Lowmonds of Fife, Largo-law, and the German Ocean for above 50 miles.

From the Statistical Account of Scotland by Sir John Sinclair, 1791-99, volume 12, p181.

We sat out after dinner for Breacacha, the family seat of the Laird of Col, accompanied by the young laird [...]. It is called Breacacha, or the Spotted Field, because in the summer it is enamelled with clover and daisies, as young Col told me. We passed by a place where there is a very large stone, I may call it a rock: -- ‘a vast weight for Ajax’. The tradition is, that a giant threw such another stone at his mistress, up to the top of a hill, at a small distance; and that she in return, threw this mass down to him. It was all in sport.

From ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell, 1791.

There is to be seen at Pendeen, a cave, known by the name of Pendeen Vau, and concerning which there are many ridiculous stories.*

It appears to have been one of those hiding places in which the Britons secreted themselves, and their property, from the attacks of the Saxons and Danes.

The cave is still almost entire, a circumstance which is principally owing to the superstitious fears of the inhabitants, many of whom, at this very day, entertain a dread of entering it.

*Oh the irony. This is in ‘A guide to the Mount’s bay and the Land’s end’ by John Ayrton Paris, published 1828. You can read it on Google Books.

I’m sure this has to be this stone – it’s in the right area and is the right size. But Ms S gives names for it that I can’t find elsewhere.

That [stone] of Succamires is a ... massive and lumpish one, being 12 feet high and about 24 feet in girth at the widest part, and may weigh from twenty to thirty tons. The stone is known, I believe, as the Berg of the Venastric, but I have heard it spoken of locally as “Mam” -- this endearing term being due to the fact that it can shelter the tender young sheep from every wind that may blow. Its situation is in a low-lying, rather marshy piece of ground near Lund in the Westing district.

It’s quite concerning that the fieldnote from FlopsyPete mentions dead sheep – is Mam not doing her job??

From Elizabeth Stout’s article “Some Shetland Brochs and Standing Stones” which is in PSAS volume 46 (1911-12).

I visited two standing stones in the island of Unst -- the stone of Clivocast and the stone of Succamires. The stone of Clivocast has the more graceful outline, and stands, a landmark for miles around, in a commanding position on a height to the east of Uyeasound and on the roadway to Muness.

En passant, an interesting traditionary derivation of the name Clivocast (which is more properly Klivincast) is preserved in the island. Two old witches lived, one in Fetlar, the other in Unst. One pair of tongs, anciently known as klivin, did duty for both their fires, and when Truylla in Fetla had made use of the klivin, she “cast” them across the sound to Truylla in Unst, and they landed in this spot, which is conveniently near to Fetlar.

The stone is composed of a soft grey slate, and seems to have been quarried near by, as there is an abundance of that particular stone all around. It is about 10 feet high and 3 1/2 feet wide at the base, tapering towards the top, and leans slightly to the northward. This stone is one of those which is not a distinct slab.

From Elizabeth Stout’s article “Some Shetland Brochs and Standing Stones” which is in PSAS volume 46 (1911-12).

There seems no end to the folklore this weird place has inspired:

This extraordinary work has probably been the pastime of some frolicsome shepherd, or secluded devotee; and the history of the stone having been lost, it was natural for the people of a superstitious age and country to apply a fabulous origin both to the stone and its inhabitants, in so retired and lonely place as the vale of Rockwich. The story, therefore, goes, that the Dwarfie-Stone fell from the moon, and that it was once the habitation of a fairy and his wife, a water-kelpie.

‘Memoranda from the Note-book of a Traveller’ in the Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Jan-June 1822.

Still, it’s clear that the stone was a popular tourist spot for travellers, so maybe the guides just told them whatever popped into their heads at the time. I think I would have done the same.

Another strange tale concerns the mountain to the north west, Ward Hill. It’s an isolated hill and the highest point on the island.

At the west of this stone stands an exceeding high mountain of a steep ascent, called the Ward-hill of Hoy, near the top of which, in the months of May, June, and July, about midnight, is seen something that shines and sparkles admirably, and which is often seen a great way off. It hath shined more brightly than it does now, and though many have climbed up the hill, and attempted to search for it, yet they could find nothing. The vulgar talk of it as some enchanted carbuncle, but I take it rather to be some water sliding down the face of a smooth rock, which, when the sun, at such a time, shines upon, the reflection causeth that admirable splendour.“-- Dr Wallace’s Description of the Islands of Orkney, 1700, p52.

I wonder what this can mean, whether it was an ongoing local tale or just an observation. Whichever, I don’t like his tone, talking of The Vulgar, and although a carbuncle is a gemstone, you can’t shake the feeling he’s well aware of its alternative meaning. And he blames it on the sun, and I know it can be quite light at midnight in the north of Scotland, but surely there’s not the angle for reflecting to be going on? dunno. It sounds nice though.

Robert the Bruce killed his rival, John ‘the Red’ Comyn, and is said to have hidden out here:

The steep hill, called the Dune of Tynron, of a considerable height, upon the top of which there hath been some habitation or fort. There have been in ancient times, on all hands of it, very thick woods, and great about that place, which made it the more inaccessible, into which K. Ro. Bruce is said to have been conducted by Roger Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, after they had killed the Cumin at Dumfries [...]

and it is reported, that during his abode there, he did often divert to a poor man’s cottage, named Brownrig, situate in a small parcel of stoney ground, incompassed with thick woods, where he was content sometimes with such mean accommodation as the place could afford.
The poor man’s wife being advised to petition the king for somewhat, was so modest in her desires, that she sought no more but security for the croft in her husband’s possession, and a liberty of pasturage for a very few cattle of different kinds on the hill, and the rest of the bounds.

MS. History of the Presbytery of Penpont, in the Advocates’ Library of Edinburgh.

From The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, vol. VII (1822), which is readable on Google Books.

“Until the mid-19th century the Titterstone Wake was held on the hill every last Sunday in August. Young women ‘fine stand-up handsome wenches they were’, would meet up with their menfolk and indulge in games such as the beguilingly named ‘Kiss-in-the-ring’.”

From “Shropshire – An Archaeological Guide” Michael Watson (2002 Shropshire Books).

See also:

mythstories.com/hlf/clee/partner.html#BAGR

This site comes free with “interesting” faux-medieval Casio keyboard soundtrack.

The Shropshire Walking website supports the idea that the naturally well protected corner of the fort, Oliver’s Point, is named after Cromwell – and apparently the round holes are brought into the story too: they’re said to be holes made by his soldiers to secure their cannons. Hmmm... you never know, but it sounds like a tall story to me....

Wikipedia. You’re never quite sure if it’s genuine or misinformation. But anyway, that never stops me normally, and it says:

Saint Peter was visiting Wales in order to watch over the Faithful. Taking offence at the sudden appearance of the Devil, he picked up a large number of boulders and placed them in his apron so as to carry them more easily. He then gave chase to the Devil, both chaser and chased (having the stature of giants) leaping from mountain-top to mountain-top. As the Devil alighted on Mynydd Machen he paused to catch his breath, whereupon Saint Peter began hurling the rocks at him, leaving a considerable amount of debris around his adversary in the process. The area of rocks is known to this day as “The Devil’s Apron Strings”.

The name of the cairn on top of the mountain, Twyn y Certhi could imply ‘Cerddi’? and thus mean the mound of singing/poetry. But perhaps someone knows better.

Folklore associated with the White Rocks on Garway Hill:

“These boulders, some of Whetstone* proportions, lie scattered in a little valley near the top of Garway Hill, where they were dropped by the Devil. The story is that ‘The Devil was helping Jack [O’Kent, a local wizard] to stop up the weir, at Orcop Hill, in order to make a fishpool. But as the Devil was coming over Garway Hill, his apron strings broke, and down fell all the stones he was carrying. Then the cock crew, and he had to go home, so there are the stones to this day.’”

From “Stone Spotting in Herefordshire” – Jonathan Sant (2000 Moondial), quoting “Folk-lore of Herefordshire” – E. M. Leather (1912).

A very obliging Devil who helps make fishpools. And a pretty poor one who has to go home when the cock crows. Perhaps his mum had his breakfast ready? Mind you, this seems to be a very common occurence – a search of TMA for “Devil’s Lap” produces numerous similar tales of broken apron strings and dropped stones. A bad workman always blames his tools (or his sweat-shop made clothes), eh?

*The Whetstone is natural boulder on Hergest Ridge near Kington, which also has associated folklore.

Naturally the fairies make this their home.

“In the early 10th [sic. a sure typo for 19th?] century, two men were ploughing in Mr. Le Cheminant’s field when their plough stopped, and could not be moved. Looking around for a cause, they found a holed kettle lying in the previous furrow. A voice asked them to get it mended immediately and to return it. They had the kettle repaired at the forge at Les Sablons and returned it to the furrow. Ploughing was resumed, but after a few turns around the field, the plough again stopped. The men then saw a bundle containing a freshly baked cake and a bottle of cider where the kettle had been placed. The same voice thanked them for their help and hoped that they would find the food and drink acceptable.”

also:

Some men were working in Mr. Le Cheminant’s field when they heard a voice cry, ‘La paile, la paile! Le four est caoud!’ (The peel, the peel! The oven is hot!). One man called out jokingly, ‘Baon, j’eraons d’la gache tantaot!’ (Right, we will shortly have some cake!). A cake, steaming from the oven, appeared nearby, and the man ran to pick it up, saying that he would take it to his wife. On stooping to retrieve it, however, he received a buffet across the head which felled him.

From ‘A Cake in the Furrow’ by S. P. Menefee, in Folklore, Vol. 91, No. 2 (1980).

This barrow is close to the village of Chopwell, and there’s also Chopwell Wood (the well chopped timber from which has been used in illustrious projects like Dunstanburgh Castle, the Tyne Bridge, and various warships. It’s now managed by the Forestry Commission). Tony Henderson’s article here explains that the name could come from ‘Ceoppa Well’ meaning a cattle watering place, or a local Saxon chief called Ceoppa.

He goes on to suggest that “legend has it he was buried in 685 at what is now Heavy Gate Farm, the site of a burial mound and well”.

What a very specific date... sounds suspiciously like one of those Victorian Gentleman Speculations rather than local lore. But it makes a good story, and you get the well thrown into the local name for free.

In"On The Ancient British, Roman, and Saxon Antiquities and Folk-Lore of Worcestershire” 2nd ed (1852), Jabez Allies includes an entire chapter on the stone, including entymology of the name and a woodcut. He refers to a reference to the site in Laird’s “Topographical and Historical Description of Worcestershire” (1814), which gives the opinion:

“Near the Prospect House, is Bramsbury Stone, an immense mass of rock, but of which there is no traditionary account; and which is, most likely, merely a natural production, without any reference to ancient events.”

It is shown on Dr Nash’s plan of the camp (1781) and on Greenwood’s map (1820).

Allies gives a full description of the stone, which also mentions a line of other stones, nearly aligned with the Bambury Stone (as shown in his woodcut).

He concludes the chapter as follows:

“From all that has been said, and considering that Ambreley, Amberley, Ambresbury, and Ambury [as in Croft Ambrey ], are common names of old earth works all over the kingdom, it appears more than probable that Amber Stones stood at such places in primitive times, which gave the names thereto; and that the Banbury or Bambury Stone or Rock in Kemerton Camp, otherwise Bambury Camp, on the top of Bredon Hill, was one of these Ambrosiae Petrae, or Amber Stones, dedicated to the Sun by the Celtic Druids, either in imitation or independently of the form of worship of the Amonians, Phoenecians, or Tyrians. This would, if so, tend to confirm my idea that the Kemerton Camp is ancient British, although afterwards occupied by the Romans, Saxons, and Danes.”

Not sure if any of this helps the question of “disputed antiquity” in any way shape or form!

Es Fus de sa Geganta (the giantess’s spindle), Torralba d’en Salort, district of Alayor: a conspicuous standing stone in the midst of the talayotic settlement of Torralba d’en Salort.
The tradition is that at midnight the Ginatess from the talayotic well of Na Patarra nearby carries on her head a trough of water for sacrifice at the Taula (table shaped stone monument) among this group of monuments. After making the sacrifice she returns to the depths of the well. The giantess is the guardian of the monuments here, and after the sacrifice she makes rope with her spindle.

The well, dating almost certainly from the talayotic period, is among the most spectacular ancient structures in Menorca. The mouth is 7.50m by 5.00m; the depth 45.80m; and there are 199 rock-hewn steps in eight flights, with banisters 0.5m broad. It is not surprising that it has attracted folklore. Its construction was attributed to giants as early as the late 16th century.

The traditions connected with it are the subject of the poem ‘Na Patarra: Tradicio Menorquina,’ by Angel Ruiz y Pablo ([extract of] translation by Dr. Antoni Turull):

It is said there was an immense cave
Hewn from the living rock
By the hand of the heathen
Inhabitants of these islands ...

Hallowed by time the cave
As was the falling water;
Hands of priests hewed
The cavern in the living rock;
And the tradition tells
That a giantess
At midnight would carry out
The basin on her head
And in the light of the white moon
The friend of our ancestors
Would wash the living blood
From the sacrificial altar.

The sacred dolmen watched over
The virgin priestess
And at daybreak
She would return the basin to the cave
And in the sacred solitude
Of that heathen cavern,
The purified water
Issued forth night and day.

The Popular Names and Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Menorca
L. V. Grinsell
Folklore, Vol. 95, No. 1 (1984), pp. 90-99.