Latest Folklore

The Foel Camp is situated on the summit of a commanding eminence, of a conoid form, close in the rear of the village. The internal area covers nearly two acres; its shape following, as most ancient camps do, the conformation of the ground. It has all the marks of a British post. The lines of defence around it partake more of the character of terraces than ditches, (but there are traces in two places of parts having been sunken), and make up one spiral road of access to the great arena.

The sides of the hill, excepting one, are very steep, and this steepness would be a great defence. The entrance is at the east end, where the sides are more approachable. There are no historical records concerning this, but tradition relates that there have been terrible combats about the foot of the mountain.

The spot on top of the Foel is called by the people “Soldiers’ Mount,” and it is said that the soldiers shot at each other from the Ffridd, (an opposite hill to the west), to the Foel, and from the Foel to the Ffridd, with bows and arrows.

It is of a spiral form, and has three ditches winding spirally one above the other. Some say that it was Caradog (Caractacus) ab Bran Fendigaid who encamped his left wing here while defending his country against the invasion of the Romans under Publius Ostorius, about the year of our Lord 51, his centre being on the Brewer. But all is conjectural.

Sul y Pys, or Pea Sunday (the Fourth* Sunday in Lent).

A custom prevailed among the old inhabitants of this parish of roasting peas or wheat grains, and then taking them to the top of the Foel, there to be eaten with very great ceremony, and drinking water out of the well on the Foel. This was done near the spot where the church was to have been built.

It is probable also that our forefathers sent presents to each other on this day, for it was an old saying with our mothers when asked for a gift, “You shall have it on Pea Sunday.”

The custom of eating peas was part of the Lent fasting, and the old people believed that they would be choked if they ate peas before Lent!

*Actually the fifth Sunday? This pea-eating event is known as Carlin Sunday in the north of England.

The Church stands on a piece of ground above the village, from which a fine view may be had of the vale below. Our ancestors delighted in building their temples on slightly elevated ground, that they might worship their God according to the fashion of their forefathers, the Druids, “in the face of the sun and the eye of light,” and this feeling was so strong in them that they had determined (so tradition relates), to build their temple on the Foel, on the opposite side of the hill facing the village; but neither peace nor prosperity attended the work, for all done during the day was removed in the night to the spot where the church now stands; therefore the church was built on its present site, because it was believed to be the spot where God desired to be worshipped.

Formerly the rejected site on the Foel was distinguished by a yew tree which grew there. This yew tree was accidentally burnt at the roasting of a kid on celebrating the jubilee of George the Third’s accession, and it is worth mentioning that the kid was taken out of a herd of goats that were depasturing on the side of the Ffridd.

In ‘A History of the Parish of Llansantffraid-Yn-Mechain’ by Thomas Griffiths Jones, in ‘Collections, historical and archaeological, relating to Montgomeryshire’ (1868).

The Culdees, 8th – 10th century

The so-called Culdees were early Christian ascetics who lived in remote communities, the Céli Dé or “Companions of God”. The concept originated in Ireland and it is believed by some scholars that the first inhabitants of Iceland, the “papar” who are recorded in so many placenames, were in fact Culdees. Famously, when the Norse first discovered Iceland, they were surprised to find traces of these Irish pioneers (“bells, books and staffs”); at a later date, although the Vikings wreaked havoc upon so many religious communities, they seem to have spared those of the Céli Dé – perhaps consciously out of affinity or respect, but perhaps merely on account of their material poverty and asceticism.

The late 8th century divine, St. Maelruan of Tallaght, developed a model “rule” for the Céli Dé and clearly influenced the movement. It is especially interesting that St. Maelruan, whose foundation was dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, was believed to have had a personal archangelic sign, in the form of a clod of earth and a bible delivered from on high, to assist in his foundation. Note that St. Michael is associated with desert places (St. Michael’s Mount, Skellig Michael etc.) and also that he was highly esteemed by the christian Vikings. His symbol is a balance and he weighed the merits and demerits of the dead before determining their entry to heaven or hell.

The obvious link between the vikings, Iceland and St. Buo (discussed above) is matched by a link between St. Michael and the famous Viking grave at Kiloran. This is the only known example of a ship-burial with christian overtones, and gravegoods included a balance with weights, the symbol of St. Michael, special patron of the Céli Dé . There is also a supposed Culdee origin to the chapel-site at Balnahard, formerly known as Cille Cairine, and I like to think that Dún Tealtaig is another such site. Originally it was spelled as Dún Ceilte, which I suspect is a simple corruption of “Dun Céli Dé” – dwelling-place of the Companions of God. My notion was independently supported by at least one archaeologist who looked at the site.

Kevin Byrne – Colonsay History

There are a number of folk tales associated with these particular caves. One story concerns the last of the MacPhee lairds of Colonsay who had been defeated by his enemies, the MacNeills. He took refuge, with his three dogs, from an approaching gang of MacNeills, in the Slochd dubh Mhic a Phi (MacPhee’s Dark Cave, or Pit).

This had an entrance from the sea and another from the land. At the sea end MacPhee placed his three dogs. He stood in the cave at a point where anyone trying to get in from the land entrance would have to get down on all fours to pass through. MacPhee cut the head off each MacNeill in turn as he crawled through. Eventually the MacNeills who waited outside suspected trouble and started to dig an entrance through the roof, whereupon MacPhee went out by the sea entrance and swam across the bay to a rock still known as the Black Skerry of the MacPhee.

Colonsay Cave Folklore
By Marg Greenwood

In the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, on the island of Colonsay, lies an ancient site of historical significance: Dùn Cholla. According to tradition, this hill fort was once the stronghold of Colla Uais, exiled from Ireland in the year 310. Adding another layer of historical significance to the site, it is said that St. Columba founded his first church in Scotland in the vicinity of Dùn Cholla. The area is steeped in history and shrouded in the mystical aura of the past, visitors can explore the remains of the ancient walls that once demarcated the fortress. Although historical details are fragmentary, the impact that figures like Colla Uais and St. Columba had on Scottish and Irish culture is undeniable. In addition to the archaeological remains, travelers passing through these lands can be enchanted by the panoramic views that stretch from the fort to the Atlantic. The surrounding landscape, characterized by pristine nature and a variety of wildlife, immersed in the tranquility of the Hebrides, offers a unique experience for those interested in the history and natural environment of the island of Colonsay.

Loquis

Dun Gallain is also called Fort of the Strangers. An old folk tale told locally holds that in the Viking period the fort was the residence of a local chief named Grey Somerled, related to the Lords of the Isles.

This Grey Somerled was betrayed to his enemies, who seized him and imprisoned him in a stone hut at Machrins, a mile or so away. One day a stone fell from the roof of the hut, killing the chief.

David Ross

Dun Eibhinn became a seat of the Dalriadic noblemen from Ireland 1,500 years ago and, in due course, was adopted by the Vikings. It became the centre to which the taxes and wealth of the Suderys (“Sudreyjar” or Southern Hebrides) were gathered for onward transmission. In the fulness of time, it was home to Adomain (“Jarl Gilli”), one of the later Norse nobles, the fore-father of the mighty Somerled. After the overthrow of the Norse, Somerled’s own descendants created the Lordship of the Isles and took over Dun Eibhinn for themselves. During the rule of the Lords of the Isles, the ancient and “well-beloved” family of Clan McPhee became their hereditary record keepers and for upwards of three centuries Dun Eibhinn was their home.

On August 23rd 1609, the Statutes of Iona were accepted by a assembly of chiefs which included

Donald McFie in Collonsaye, togidder with the maist pairt of thair haill speciall frindis, dependairis and tennentis....

Lonely Colonsay – Island At An Edge by Kevin Byrne

The Dog.

Mrs Pembro, of Bridgnorth, remembers her mother telling her a story about Titterstone Clee. Her mother was born on Titterstone Clee and one day, when she was a child of about eight or nine, she was walking, with her sister, to her uncle’s house, which was about five or six miles from her home. On their journey back home it was dark. They met a huge black dog. The thing they most remembered about it was the beautiful red and green collar with jewels on it which it was wearing. They thought about approaching the dog but it would not let them go near it. Then, suddenly, it disappeared.

They mentioned the dog to their family but nothing else was said about the incident until the children were grown up. Their father then revealed that someone had been murdered at that spot and other people had seen the dog.

I do like a nice Black Dog (one of our great spooky animals). This one’s mentioned in ‘Some Ghostly Tales of Shropshire’ by Christine McCarthy (1988).

An alternative explanation of the grooves...

So far as I can make out, for I have been unable to refer to the original, Hollinshed in his Chronicle came to the conclusion that these stones were erected as memorials to the Scots who fell in a skirmish with the two Percies and their followers at Grindonmarsh in the year 1558; and this rather strange opinion has been copied from one book to another, down almost to the present time; though how those useful persons who compile county histories, and so forth, have been able to reconcile the deep weathering to which these stones have been subjected with so comparatively recent a date as 1558 (to say nothing of the further anomaly of funeral monoliths in Tudor times) it is difficulty to see. The probability is, however, that these good people have never seen the stones in question, for even Kelly’s Directory of Northumberland for 1902 seems to be unaware of the existence of the fifth stone in this group.

Tradition, however, gives an even more interesting origin for the Duddo cromlech. Among the field workers on the neighbouring farm of Grindon it is, or used recently to be, told that these stones are five men who not so very long ago – for tradition pays no regard to such trifles as a matter of centuries, and, as Chesterton says, it is the essence of a legend to be vague – brought down divine vengeance on themselves by godless behaviour which had culminated one day in going out into the fields and singling, or thinning out, a crop of turnips on the Sabbath.

Not merely were they turned into stones as they stood together on the top of the little eminence in the field where they were working, becoming a memorial for all time, somewhat after the manner of Lot’s wife, but the ringleader in this desecration was knocked flat on his back, where he lies to the present day. And if you don’t believe it, go and look for yourself and you’ll see the cording of their trousers running in stripes down the stones!

At Grievestead farm, alongside Grindon, this tale is told too; but there they were sheep shearers who were turned into stone for working Sunday.

In ‘A Border Myth – the standing stones at Duddo’ by Captain W.J. Rutherfurd, in the History of the Berwickshire Naturalists’ Club vol. XXIV (1919) p.98.

Pembrokeshire – in common with several other districts in Great Britain and Ireland – possesses a good phantom coach legend, localised in the southern part of the county, at a place where four roads meet, called Sampson Cross.

In old days, the belated farmer, driving home in his gig from market, was apt to cast a nervous glance over his shoulder as his pony slowly climbed the last steep pitch leading up to the Cross. For he remembered the story connected with that dark bit of road, that told how every night a certain Lady Z. (who lived in the seventeenth century, and whose monument is in the church close by) drives over from Tenby, ten miles distant, in a coach drawn by headless horses, guided by a headless coachman. She also has no head; and arriving by midnight at Sampson Cross, the whole equipage is said to disappear in a flame of fire, with a loud noise of explosion.

A clergyman living in the immediate neighbourhood, who told me the story, said that some people believed the ghostly traveller had been safely “laid” many years ago, in the waters of a lake not far distant. He added, however that might be, it was an odd fact that his sedate and elderly cob, when driven past the Cross after nightfall, would invariably start as if frightened there, a thing which never happened by daylight.

I think all that universal headlessness happening every night is a mite ostentatious. But you can’t be too careful at prehistoric stones especially at liminal places like crossroads. So be careful.
From ‘Stranger than fiction, being tales from the byways of ghosts and folk-lore’ by Mary Lewes, 1911 (p.24).

There is one institution connected with Dartmoor that must not be passed over – Bellever Day. When hare-hunting is over in the low country, then, some week or two after Easter, the packs that surround Dartmoor assemble on it, and a week is given up to hare-hunting. On the last day, Friday, there is a grand gathering on Bellever Tor.

All the towns and villages neighbouring on Dartmoor send out carriages, traps, carts, riders; the roads are full of men and women, ay, and children hurrying to Bellever.

Little girls with their baskets stuffed with saffron cake for lunch desert school and trudge to the tor. Ladies go out with champagne luncheons ready. Whether a hare be found and coursed that day matters little. It is given up to merriment in the fresh air and sparkling sun.

And the roads that lead from Bellever in the afternon are careered over by riders, whose horses are so exhilerated that they race, and the riders have a difficulty in keeping their seats. Their faces are red, not those of the horses, but their riders – from the sun and air – and they are so averse to leave the moor, that they sometimes desert their saddles to roll on the soft and springy turf.

‘A Book of the West’ by Sabine Baring-Gould (1899).

... Craigshowe cave was at length reached. Some recent visitors assured us that the cave had no end, and that they had been told that it took a turn and came out at Loch Lundy on the other side of the hill.

Going in as far as we could without stooping, the rock dipped downward, and there seemed nothing but black darkness beyond; and over us came a creepy feeling lest we should be disturbing some sleeping goblin or fairy within its depths. However, doubling ourselves until our heads and knees almost met, a few yards’ crawling enabled us to pass the turn and stand once more, while behind us was the light trying to pierce the gloom. A matchbox proved a handy companion, but, do what we could, the matches would not burn, but flickered and died out almost immediately, and even the attempts to obtain light by igniting the matchbox failed, so damp was the atmosphere. We managed, however, to see that we were at the end of the cave, and that the water was trickling very slowly from the rocky ceiling.

Returning to the beach, we inspected the well at the mouth of the cave, into which the water is said to fall at the rate of one drop a minute. This well is also stated to possess virtues which are said to have been proved by visitors who suffer from deafness, and instances are given where the observance of the rites have resulted in an absolute relief to the victims of this most trying complaint. One must visit the well at midnight; and, having secured a mussel shell, hold it to the drop until it has been filled, thereafter pouring it into the ear, and – well, faith does the rest.

A few paces from the cave there stands the Wishing Tree, a very flourishing and luxuriant rose tree bristling with thorns. Each visitor to this shrine of hope and fear, if desirous of obtaining some good or ill omen, ties a rag upon one of its branches, and the wish is said to be thereupon granted. It is indeed a curious sight to see the many coloured ribbons fluttering in the breeze, some of them having maybe stood the storm and sunshine more bravely than has done the faint heart that fluttered like a frightened bird as the trembling hands tied firmly to the thorny tree the little bit of gay ribbon that a minute before may have adorned the hair of a fair vision, and who may have come there to charm away the evil spirits, because -’My fause lover pa’d the rose; And, ah, he’s left the thorn wi’ me.‘

Then, if it is felt that the tree has not yielded the desired fruit, there remaineth the wishing well, just behind, in a recess of the rock, into which one must drop a penny in order to tempt the fairies to give the donors what they sigh for. Someone must reap the benefit of this simple faith, as the clear depths of the well did not show that even the latest copper had been allowed to rust in fairyland.

Then beside the well there is a large stone, on which are distinctly marked red spots, which are said to be the indelible traces of the blood of a child that was cruelly murdered by its mother.

From ‘Highland Superstitions (From a Correspondent)’ in the Aberdeen Press and Journal, 12th September 1895.

Built into the wall surrounding St Peter’s Church in Onchan is a stone pillar which is known locally as the “whipping post”. However, its origin is more likely to be that it is the sole survivor of a semi-circle of similar stones associated with a pre-historic burial site.

This loch, situated between the River Spey and the foothills of the Cairngorms, has an eerie reputation. It is said to harbour a water-horse, which, in defiance of the “each uisge” tradition, is black in colour. This animal is believed to inhabit a sunken “crannog” or prehistoric loch-dwelling, the site of which at the bottom of the loch can be seen on calm days deep down through the clear water.

According to local tradition, the black horse appeared one day many years ago to the young heir to the Barony Of Kincardine as he played with other children at the side of the loch – as a coal-black steed decked out with a silver saddle, silver bridle and silver reins. The boys grasped the reins, which galloped off with them to the loch, and only the young heir remained lived to tell of the encounter, as he alone had had the presence of mind to free his fingers from the reins with a knife.

R MacDonald Robertson – Highland Folktales

A local chieftain fell in low with a beautiful but low-born maiden. His mother. opposing the match, caused the girl to be transformed by magic into a swan, which the chief, when out hunting, shot (by arrow) and killed. He was horror-struck to see the swan at the moment of its death resume the form of his beloved. Overcome with grief, he fell on his own sword, and the lovers are said to still lie together beneath the ruined walls of Dun Ghallian.

Exploring Sunart, Arnamurchan, Moidart and Morar

Two neighbouring chambered cairns on Whiting Bay on Arran are known as the Giants’ Graves (although some sources record only one Giant’s Grave). It is possible that the giant or giants concerned have something to do with the following tradition.

The Name of this Isle is by some derived from Arran, which in the Irish language signifies Bread: Others think it comes more probably from Arjn or Arfyn, which in their language is as much, as the Place of the Giant fin-Ma-Cowls Slaughter or Execution...the received Tradition of the great Giant Fin-Ma-Cowls Military Valour, which he exercised upon the Ancient Natives here, seems to favour this Conjecture; this they say is evident from the many Stones set up in diverse Places of the Isle, as Monuments upon the Graces of Persons of Note that were killed in Battle.

Martin Martin 1695

A small conical hill at Kildalloig had a circle around the top, most likely the remains of a dun, once upon a time the lair of a huge serpent that devoured sheep and cattle in large quantities.

At last the deliverer arose. A man engaged to fight the serpent on condition that a barn which stood were the ship-building yard now is, should be placed at his disposal.

The barn was at once given to him. Causing a quantity of hay to be placed in it, he rode off to do battle with the serpent. On arriving at the mound he found the serpent asleep. Riding up to it, he dealt it a tremendous blow with his sword.

Although terribly wounded the beast followed hard after him. On coming to the shore, he plunged his horse into the sea and swam across the loch. By the time he reached the other side the beast was close in his heels. Riding into the barn by one door, he rapidly rode out the other, shutting it immediately behind him. Round he rode to the one which the dragon had entered by, and had the satisfaction of seeing the serpents’s tail disappearing into the barn, and they had the monster fast. They then set fire to the barn, and burned the dragon to death.

Lord Archibald Campbell 1895

In the Moor on the East-side Druin-cruey there is a circle f stones, the Area is about thirty Paces; there is a Stone of same shape and kind about forty Paces to the West of the Circle, the Natives say that this Circle was made by the giant Fin-Mac-Cowl, and that to the single Stone Bran-Fin-Mac-Cowls Hunting dog was usually tied......There is a circle of Big-stones to the South of Druin Cruey, the Area of which about is twelve Paces; there is a broad thin Stone in the middle of this Circle, supported by three lesser Stones, the Ancient inhabitants are reported to have burnt their Sacrifices on the broad Stone, in the time of Heathenism.

Martin Martin 1695

The cairn covered the remains of a great hero. He was wont to wear a belt of gold, which, being charmed, protected him on the field of battle. One day, however, as he rode a-hunting accompanied by his sister, the maid, coveting the golden talisman, prevailed upon him to lend it to her. While thus unprotected he was killed – whether by enemies or mischance the attenuated tradition does not clearly indicate; and this cairn marked the warrior’s grave

James King Hewison 1893

At a little distance westward from Largo, in the middle of a park on the north side of the road, is the celebrated curiosity called ‘The Standing Stanes O’ Lundie.‘ Three tall straight sharp stones, resembling whales jaws more than any thing else, rear themselves at the distance of a few yards from each other, and, though several yards high, are supposed to pierce the ground to same depth. According to the common people, they are monuments to the memory of three Danish generals slain here in battle; but it is more probable they are of Roman origin, it being the site of a Roman town.

Robert Chambers, 1827

Near Murthly, north of Perth, there is a standing stone of which the tradition is that a man brave enough to move it would find a chest with a black dog sitting on it, guarding it. it is said that the schoolmaster’s sons once shifted the stone with gunpowder but were terrified by the dog so put the stone back again. Katherine Briggs gives this

‘on the authority of the Rev. Routledge Bell, who had it from one of his parishioners.‘

The stone to which the tradition refers is probably Murthly Castle Standing Stone, Little Dunkeld. It is unusual to find a dog among supernatural treasure-guardians which are far more often birds, including eagles, and black cocks or hens, although the fairytale The Tinderbox features three guardian dogs, each progressively larger until the third has

‘eyes as big as mill-wheels‘

The colour black is generally the sign of a diabolic presence, but in England phantom Black Dogs could sometimes perform a protective function to travellers on lonely roads.

The Lore Of Scotland – A Guide To Scottish Legends

Westwood & Kingshill

Near Newburgh once stood Macduff’s Cross, a ‘rude upright stone’. The common legend, recorded by Robert Chambers in 1827, was that Malcolm Canmore endowed Macduff, Thane Of Fife, with three privileges, in recognition of his help in deposing Macbeth. First, he and his heirs should have the honour of placing the crown on the king’s head at any coronation; secondly, whenever the royal standard was displayed in battle they should lead the vanguard of the army;

‘and, lastly, that any person related to him within the ninth degree of kindred, having committed homicide without premeditation, should, upon flying to this obelisk and paying a certain fine, obtain remission of his crime’.

The cross was said to retain its sacred character almost until the Reformation, when it was demolished as a relic of popery; anyone who is interested, says Chambers,

‘may still see the block of stone in which it was fixed, together with many tumuli, or mounds, said to contain the bodies of such refugees as, having failed to prove their consanguinity to Macduff, were sacrificed on the spot by their enraged pursuers’.

The block or pedestal can still be seen, in the field between the roads leading to Easter Lumbennie and Auchternuchty.

The privilege was invoked successfully at least once, if we believe the horror story of John Melville’s death at Glenbervie, Aberdeenshire, when the laird of Arbuthnott claimed immunity on this account.

Robert Chambers

The sun was setting on a fine summer’s evening and the peasantry were returning from labour, when, on the side of a green hill, appeared a procession of thousands of apparently little boys, habited in mantles of green, freckled with light. One, taller than the rest, ran before them, and seemed to enter the hill, and again appeared at its summit. This was repeated three times, and all vanished. The peasantry, who beheld it, called, ‘The Fareweel o’ the Fairies to the Burrow Hill’.

Remains Of Nithsdale and Galloway Song (1810) by R. H. Cromek

This prehistoric monument sits below the village of Llanglydwen in Carmarthenshire. Situated on an ancient path in a secluded forest, its huge capstone points towards the nearby river Taf, which you can hear flowing below the trees.

An old Welsh tale set during the days of King Arthur tells of Ceridwen and Taleisin. Welsh poetry refers to the goddess of transformation, rebirth and inspiration – Ceridwen – as possessing the cauldron of “poetic inspiration”, called Awen.

This legendary story tells that Ceridwen set to brew in her magical cauldron, a mixture that would grant the gift of wisdom and poetic inspiration, Awen, for her son Morfran. The mixture was to be boiled for a year and a day. One day when the brew was almost finished, her young servant Gwion Bach was stirring the concoction and three drops of the liquid splashed onto his thumb. He instinctively put his thumb to his mouth and gained the wisdom and knowledge that Ceridwen had intended for her son. In his fear of Ceridwens anger, Gwion fled.. with Ceridwen chasing after him.

We have a video covering the folklore and history of this site and the name on our Youtube..

youtu.be/OZBEWy9Zum4?si=1Xl4tWr8hhV0E_qd

Speaking of Coylton, on the Water Of Coyle, the Statistical Account Of Scotland (1798) says;

‘There is a tradition, though it is believed, very ill-founded’, that the village derives its name from a King Coilus who was killed in battle in the neighbourhood and buried in the church here. Fergus Loch, to the west of the church, ‘is supposed by some to take its name from King Fergus, who defeated Coel King Of The Britons in the adjacent field’.

According to others, however, the battle was fought in the parish of Tarbolton, and they pointed to the slabs of stone covering a burial mound known as King Coil’s Tomb in the grounds of Coilsfield House. The tomb is probably the cairn marked near Coilsfield Mains on modern maps.

The site was investigated in May 1837 by the minister of the parish, the Reverend David Ritchie, whose report went into the New Statistical Account 1845. The excavations unearthed a circular flagstone covering another, smaller stone which itself covered the mouth of an urn filled with white coloured burned bones. Other urns were found nearby, and though no coins, armour or other implements were discovered, Ritchie notes:

An old man remembers that his father, then a tenant on the Coilsfield estate, turned up pieces of ancient armour and fragments of bone when ploughing the ‘Dead-Men’s-Holm.‘

Reverend David Ritchie 1845

A poor man from Jedburgh was on his way to one of the sheep markets held at Hawick at the end of every year to sell off sheep for slaughter. As he was passing over the side of ‘Rubislaw’ nearest the Teviot he was suddenly alarmed by a frightful and unaccountable noise which seemed to come from a multitude of female voices. He could see nothing of the speakers but heard the howling and wailing mingled with shouts of mirth and merriment, and he made out the words,

‘O there’s a bairn born, there’s naething to pit on’t.‘

The outcry was evidently occasioned by the birth of a fairy child, at which most of the fairy women rejoiced, while a few lamented the lack of anything to wrap the baby in.

Much astonished at finding himself in the midst of invisible beings in a wild moorland place, far from help should help be needed, the poor man, hearing the lament over and over again, stripped off his plaid and threw it on the ground. No sooner had he done so, than it was snatched up by an invisible hand, and the lamentations ceased, but the sounds of joy redoubled.

Guessing that he had pleased the invisible beings, the poor man lost no time in continuing on his way to Hawick market. There he bought a sheep which proved a remarkably bargain, and returned to Jedburgh. He never had cause to regret the loss of his plaid, for every day after that his wealth multiplied and he died a rich and prosperous man.

Folk-Lore And Legends: Scotland (1889)