Latest Folklore

Dowan’s Hill is a fort with double ramparts. It gets a mention in Robert Burns’ poem “Halloween”:

Upon that night when fairies light
On Cassillis Downans dance
Or owre the lays in splendid blaze
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the rout is ta’en
Beneath the moon’s pale beams;
There up the cove, to stray and rove
Amang the rocks and streams.

Burns wrote in a 1787 letter: “In my infant and boyish days too, I owed much to an old maid of my Mother’s, remarkable for her ignorance, credulity and superstition. --She had, I suppose, the largest collection in the county of tales and songs concerning devils, ghosts, fairies, brownies, witches, warlocks, spunkies, Kelpies, elf-candles, dead-lights, wraiths, apparitions, cantraips, giants, inchanted towers, dragons, and other trumpery.
--This cultivated the latent seeds of Poesy; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look-our in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more sceptical in these matters than I, yet it often takes an effort of Philosophy to shake off these idle terrors.”

found in Robert Burns’ Satires and the Folk Tradition: “Halloween”
Butler Waugh
South Atlantic Bulletin, Vol. 32, No. 4. (Nov., 1967), pp. 10-13.

Remarking to a gentleman, that I had gleaned up some anecdotes relative to Oswald, he asked me, if I had seen Old Oswestry, where he assured me the town formerly stood? I, with a smile, answered in the negative.

He told me, with a serious face, “that the town had travelled three quarters of a mile, to the place where it had taken up its present abode.” This belief, I found, was adopted by all I conversed with...

.. I could not pass this place without as strict an examination as could be expected from a man of seventy-four, who was to climb and descend a number of ramparts, each thirty or forty feet high, while up to the chin in brambles..

.. when I had made my observations, I retreated to the possessor, to collect what traditionary knowledge I was able. He told me that they had found something like a well in one place, where, he supposed, they hid their treasure; a pavement in another, which, he concluded, was to prevent the horses injuring the ground; and pieces of iron, which, he supposed, were pieces of armour.

That, about thirty years ago, as much timber was cut down from the ramparts as sold for seventeen thousand pounds, which proves them to be extensive; that the proprietor could trace two falls prior to this, which must take up the compass of perhaps five hundred years; but how many before these, were hid in time.

p45/46 of ‘Remarks upon North Wales’ by William Hutton (1803).

Lilla Howe is said to be the grave of King Edwin of Northumbria’s minister, Lilla. An assassin had been sent to kill the king, but loyal mate and Christian, Lilla leapt in front of the poisoned sword blade. He was buried where he fell. Edwin renounced his heathen ways and became a Christian. A cross – Lilla Cross – was erected on the howe.

Really Lilla was around in the 8th century, whereas the cross is thought to be 10th century – and of course, the mound was originally built in the Bronze Age. But don’t let this distract you from a good story.

Whatever, it’s been an important part of the landscape and the way people interpret the landscape, for a very long time. It’s on the junction of two medieval packhorse tracks, and also marks the boundary between four medieval parishes.

The cross has been moved about, but this is its original spot – it was mentioned in a 11thC manuscript as a boundary marker. The barrow itself was reused for burials in Anglo Saxon times and finds from that era have turned up in excavations.

(info largely from the sm record on Magic).

“Early Christians carved some steps, a cross and a circle to demonstrate that the way to Heaven was through the Christian Church”
From John Burke’s English Curiosities

Saint Carannog had had a busy time in Ireland, “converting districts of Irishmen against the wishes of the companies of magicians”, after which he went back to Ceredigion. He lived at Llangrannog – you can see his cave, and apparently there’s a chair-like rock there called ‘Eisteddfa Carannog’. He was very busy doing miracles there too, “which no-one can enumerate”, so Jesus gave him a present:

.. an honourable altar.. the colour of which no person could comprehend; and afterwards when [Carannog] came to the Severn to sail over it, he cast the altar into the sea, and it went before him where God wished him to go.

In those times, Cato and Arthur lived in that country, dwelling in Dindrarthou; and Arthur went about that he might find out a very powerful, large, and terrible serpent, which laid waste twelve parts of the land Carrum; and Carannog came, and saluted Arthur, who rejoicing, received his blessing from him.

Well, Carannog asked Arthur if he’d seen his altar anywhere. Arthur was remarkably cheeky and said he wanted paying for it – Carannog should fetch the sepent first. So Carannog had a pray and “immediately the serpent came with a great noise, running as a calf to its dam.” It bowed its head humbly. Carannog popped his robe round its neck (which was the thickness of a seven-year-old bull’s) and the serpent trotted along with him to the castle – “it did not raise its wings or claws.”

The people in the castle wanted to kill it – but Carannog wouldn’t let them, as he said it showed the power of God to them. There’s a touching scene at the end, like something off Animal Hospital: “And afterwards he went without the gate of the castle, and loosed it, and in its departing, he commanded that it should hurt no one, nor return any more; and it injured none as God had commanded.”

But back to the altar – which Arthur was trying to use as a table! “But whatever was put thereon, was thrown off to some distance,” so it was no use anyway. Carannog was allowed to build a church where it had landed, and then he popped the altar back in the sea, where it sailed off to Guellit, and he built another church there.

Carannog gets lots of variation in his name – St Carantoc, for example. And so does Dindraithou, Din Draithou, Caer Draithou, Caer Ddraitou.. this is said to be Dunster. But surely, SURELY this would be Bats Castle. Because Dunster castle was only built in Norman times and as any fule kno, King Arthur was around long before that.

Quotes from ‘Lives of the Cambro British Saints’ by Thomas Wakeman and William Jenkins Rees (1853) p398-99, which is online at Google Books.

On the lands of Monaltry, and on the north bank of the river Dee, in a narrow pass where there is not above sixty yards from the river to the foot of a high, steep, rocky hill, stands a cairn, known by the name of Carn-na-cuimhne, or cairn of remembrance. This is the watch word of the country. In former times, the moment the alarm was given that danger was apprehended, a stake of wood, the one end dipped in blood, and the other burnt, as an emblem of fire and sword, was put into the hands of theperson nearest to where the alarm was given, who immediately ran with all speed, and gave it to his nearest neighbour, whether man or woman; that person ran to the next village or cottage, and so on, till they went through the whole country; upon which every man instantly laid hold of his arms and repaired to Cairn-na-cuimhne. The stake of wood was called Croishtarich. At this day, were a fray or squabble to happen at a market or any public meeting, such influence has this word over the minds of the country people, that the very mention of Cairn-na-cuimhne would, in a moment, collect all the people of this country who happened to be present, to the assistance of the person assailed.

From the Statistical Account of Scotland, v14, p351-2.

Ghostly drumming, from Gordon’s History of Scots Affairs, from 1638 to 1641, vol i, pp56-68 (1841):

That country is hilly and mountainous, and there is a hill, distant about a mile westward from the manor place of Eycht: the hill bears the name of Duneycht, (or, to write it truly, Dun Picte). Up on the top of this swelling hill.. there are to be seen old ruined walls and trenches, which the people, by a received tradition, affirm to have been built at such a time as the Picts were masters of Marre.

Upon the top of this said hill of Duneight, it was, that, for the space of all the winter [of 1637/8], almost every night, drums were heard beating about four o’clock, the parade or reteering of the guards, their taptoos, their reveilles, and marches, distinctly. And ear witnesses, soldiers of credit, have told me that, when the parade was beating, they could discern when the drummer walked towards them, or when he turned about, as the fashion is for drummers, to walk to and again, upon the head or front of a company drawn up. At such times, also, they could distinguish the marches of several nations; and the first marches that were heard there was the Scottish march; afterward the Irish march was heard, then the English march.

But before these noises ceased, those who had been trained up much of their lives abroad in the German wars, affirmed that they could perfectly, by their hearing, discern the marches upon the drum of several foreign nations of Europe, such as French, Dutch, Danes, etc. These drums were so constantly heard, that all the country people next adjacent were therewith accustomed; and sometimes the drummers were heard off that hill, in places two or three miles distant..

Some gentlemen of known integrity and truth, affirmed that, near these places, they heard as perfect shot of canon go off as ever they heard at the Battle of Norlingen, where themselves, some years before, had been present.

And from ‘Douglas’s Description of the East Coast of Scotland’, p254 (1782):

..over [the Barmkin of Echt] which if tradition may be believed, many armies were seen, many drums heard, adn many an aerial bloodless battle fought, before the troubles in King Charles the First’s time.

These are quoted in the notes of ‘Illustrations of the Topography and Antiquities of the Shires of Aberdeen and Banff’ By Joseph Robertson (1847), which is on Google Books.

Through the centuries this stone has gathered a host of legends. It was said to have been put up by the Munros after a battle with the Mackenzies and is inscribed with their crest, the Eagle, in memory of the slain. It is now recognised to be of far greater antiquity, inscribed as it is with Pictish symbols.

The Brahan Seer (Coinneach Odhar) said that if the stone fell down three times Loch Ussie would flood the strath below so that ships could sail up to Strathpeffer. It has already fallen twice, and is now very securely concreted in to ensure its stability!

Future husbands would go there by night it is said and beat themselves against the protuberances unclothed in order to have beautiful children!

Source: The Megaliths of Brittany, Jacques Briard (ISBN: 2-87747-063-6).

The wonderful Aubrey Burl, in his must-have book ‘Megalithic Brittany’, says on page 92:

“Tradition has it that each year in ancient times a young girl was sacrificed on the mound on an altar specially built for the occasion. The meaning of Chateau Bû is obscure, but Bû may derive from the Breton word for cattle, bulls having an important role in the religious celebrations of Brittany.”

... as indeed they have throughout the rest of the world, Aubrey.

Aubrey Burl, in Megalithic Brittany says: “legend has it that fairies lived in the tomb’s ruins. When their cow trampled on some crops they compensated the farmer with a magic loaf, saying it would never grow less or harden s long as he kept his promise. Forgetting his promise the farmer boasted of his prize one day and the loaf instantly became as hard as brick.”

French farmers, eh?!

Kinver Camp is an Iron Age hillfort in a naturally defended spot – its univallate bank and ditch were only necessary on two sides because of the steep slopes elsewhere. Apparently (according to the EH record on Magic) univallate forts are unusual in this part of the country – they are mostly found in Wessex and other parts of southern England.

The landscape around here seems full of folklore. The excellent Sabine Baring-Gould recorded it as part of his novel ‘Bladys of the Stewponey’ (1897).

Kinver village occupies a basin in the side of the great rocky ridge that runs for many miles through the country and ends abruptly at the edge, a bluff of sandstone crowned by earthworks, where, as tradition says, King Wulfhere of Mercia had his camp. So far is sure, that the church of Kinver is dedicated to his murdered sons, Wulfhad and Ruffinus. The place of their martyrdom was at Stone, in Staffordshire; but it is possible that their bodies were removed to Kinver.

Kinver takes its name from the Great Ridge, Cefn vawr[..]

This isolated rock of red sandstone, on and about which Scotch firs have rooted themselves by the name of Holy Austin Rock[..] Although the local tradition is silent relative to a saintly denizen of the rock, it is vocal relative to a tenancy of a different kind. Once it was occupied by a giant and his wife, who with their nails had scooped for themselves caves in the sandstone. The giantess was comely. So thought another giant who lived at Enville.

Now in this sandstone district water is scarce, and the giant of Austin Rock was wont daily to cross a shoulder of hill to a spring some two hundred and fifty yards south of the Rock to fetch the water required for his kitchen. The water oozed forth in a dribble, and the amount required was considerable, for a giant’s sup is a drunkard’s draught. Consequently he was some time absent. The Enville giant took advantage of this absence to visit his wife. One, two, three. He strode across country, popped his head in, kissed the lady, and retired before her husband returned with the pitchers.

But one day he tarried a moment too long, and the Austin giant saw him. Filled with jealous rage, he set down the pitchers, rushed to the summit of the rock, and hurled a large block at the retreating neighbour. The stone missed its aim; it fell and planted itself upright, and for many generations bore the name of the Bolt Stone. In 1848 the farmer in whose field it stood blew it to pieces with gunpowder.

You can read it at the Online Books pages:
onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/book/lookupid?key=olbp11522

The latter stone is mentioned in Britton et al’s “Beauties of England” (1801 -v13 pt2), which describes it. And I wonder, is it a bolt to do with lightning or arrows or what?

Just below the camp appears a tumulus or barrow, surrounded by a narrow ditch.. near it is also a large stone of a square figure, and tapering towards the top, about two yards in heigh, and four in circumference, having two notches on the summit. This stone is called Baston of Boltstone.

And in case you were wondering – (courtesy of SB-G again):
“[On the shoulder of the hill is] a strip of deep red in the sandstone, the colour of clotted blood. Here, according to tradition, a woman was murdered by the Danes, who had ascended the Stour and ravaged Shropshire. From the day of the crime the rock has been dyed blood-red.”

There are caves cut in the soft sandstone of the Edge, but I can’t find any mention that these date back to prehistory.

Priapus hails from Greek mythology and represents procreation and fertility.

Local village custom suggests that the stone was decorated each Midsummer in the hope that fruitful procreation would be stimulated. This custom seemed to die out in the early part of the 19th century but the stone remained in the field until the 1920s.

We inquired of several persons in the neighbourhood as to the origin of the name “King and Queen,” as applied to these rocks of oolitic conglomerate, but could get no information, or hear of any tradition concerning them.

An “old inhabitant” of Eckington, however, told us that a manorial court had been formerly, but was not at present proclaimed at the spot, and further said, that he remembered that it used to be a custom years ago for the stones to be whitewashed previously to the holding of the court. This, Mr Lukis thought, was a vestige of the ancient lustration or consecration of them, which might have taken place annually.

There does not appear to be any mark of sculpture upon the stones; but as there is a fissured passage between the “King and Queen,” and between the “King” and the adjoining mass of rock on the other side, it is probable that there may have been some superstition in connection with the passing through of these cavities.

p177 of ‘Pictures of Nature in the Silurian Region Around the Malvern Hills and Vale of Severn’ by Edwin Lees (1856). Online at Google Books.

In1405 the troops of the “wild and irregular” Glyndwr, with a body of French auxiliaries, invaded the borders, burned the suburbs of Worcester, and then retreated into Wales, followed by the army of Henry IV. Tradition asserts that Owen Glyndwr then occupied Woodbury Hill, where for eight days he skirmished with the king’s soldiers without much advantage to either side, though in the various scrimmages two hundred men were killed.

p160 in ‘Pictures of Nature in the Silurian Region Around the Malvern Hills and Vale of Severn’ by Edwin Lees (1856). Online at Google Books.

At the edge of the wood under the Beacon is a clear but small piece of water, called Walm’s Well, once much frequented for bathing by the people of the neighbourhood, but now altogether neglected. This well, or rather bath, was formerly in estimation as a cure for cutaneous diseases; and there was a wooden hut for bathers,-- now removed.

The OS map shows the well to the west and beneath Shire Ditch at SO760392.
From p25 of ‘Pictures of Nature in the Silurian Region Around the Malvern Hills and Vale of Severn’ by Edwin Lees (1856). Online at Google Books.

About a mile from Braich-y-Ddinas is Y Meini Hirion, one of the most remarkable relics of Druidical times. It is a circle, eighty feet in diameter, consisting of ten erect stones, enclosed by a stone wall; and there are, besides, several smaller circles, one of which surrounds the remains of a cromlech.

This tract has certainly, at some period, been much inhabited, for in all directions may be discerned the remains of small rude buildings in great numbers. Tradition says that a sanguinary battle was fought here between the Romans and the Britons, and that the cairns were raised over the bodies of the Britons who were slain.

p501 in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1860.
The Cambrian Archaeological Association held their fourteenth annual meeting in Bangor and got up to a whole week of archaeological field-tripping.

In Myth and Magic of Northumbria, Coquet Editions 1992
There is a tale of a man who decided to dispel the myth of the mischevious dwarfes who inhabited the Simonside hills and waylaid strangers by spending a night in the hills.
He wandered about for some time and saw nothing and so decided to pretend he was lost and in the local dialect shouted “Tint! Tint!“.
Immediately he saw a light in front of him.
To cut a long story short he found himself surrounded by ugly dwarves, each carrying a club and a torch, their evil faces twisted with menace. The man falls unconsious and lays until dawn. When he awakes the dwarves had gone.

That’s right, of all the many prehistoric remains up here, why not destroy the very one that has some decent folklore.

A short distance from [Meini Hirion] is a smooth round hill called Moelfre, upon which is a carnedd, covered with turf, about seventeen feet in diameter. I allude to it chiefly for the sake of introducing the following very curious unpublished notice of it which occurs in the [17th C] manuscript of Sir John Wynn..

..“and in the top very plain and pleasant upon this hill there is a circle marked, whereupon stood three stones about a yard and a quarter above ground, the one red as blood, the other white, and the third a little bluer than the white stone, standing in a triangle.

What should be the reason of placing such three stones in such a place upon so high and so pleasant a mount, and to place there stones of such colours, I cannot express otherwise that we have it by tradition.

The tradition is this, that God Almighty hath wrought in this place a miracle for increasing of our faith. And that was thus. Three women, about such time as Christianity began to creep in amongst us, upon a Sabbath day in the morning went to the top of this hill to winnow their corn, and having spread there winnowing sheet upon the ground and begun their work, some of their neighbours came unto them and did reprehend them for violating and breaking the Lordes commandment by working upon the Sabbath day.

These faithless women, regarding their profit more than the observing of God’s commandments, made slight of their neighbours’ admonition, and held on in their work; whereupon it pleased God instantly to transform them into three pillars of stones, and to frame these stones of the same colour as the women’s clothes were, one red, the other white, and the third bluish, and to transform their winnowing sheet and corn into earth, and so to leave them there in example to others.

This is a tradition we have and believed by the old people in that neighbourhood, and however, whether it was so or no, the tradition is wholesome, and will deter others from working upon the Sabbath day.

These stones, being worth the seeing as they were placed, have been digged up by some idle headed youths within these six years, and were rolled down the hill, and do now lie together at the foot of the hill.

p162 of ‘Notes of Family Excursions in North Wales’, by J. O. Halliwell, 1860.

With old-fashioned, and possibly slightly hammed-up spelling turned into 21st century English.

John Wynn lived from 1553-1626.

This must be the source of the folklore below. Eel swapsies, St Edmund, Robin Hood, fare-dodgers – it’s all very involved.

.. I find in the charter of King Edward the confessor.. that the abbot of Ramsey should give to the abbot and convent of Peterburgh 4000 eeles in the time of Lent, and in consideration thereof the abbot of Peterburgh should give to the abbot of Ramsey as much freestone from his pitts in Bernack, and as much ragstone from his pitts in Peterburgh as he should need.

Nor did the abbot of Peterburgh from these pits furnish only that but other abbies also, as that of St. Edmunds-Bury: in memory whereof there are two long stones yet standing upon a balk in Castor-field, near unto Gunwade ferry; which erroneous tradition hath given out to be draughts of arrows from Alwalton church-yard thither; the one of Robin Hood, and th other of Little John;

but the truth is, they were set up for witnesses, that the carriages of stone from Bernack to Gunwade-ferry, to be conveyed to S. Edmunds-Bury, might pass that way without paying toll; and in some old terrars they are called S. Edmunds stones.

These stones are nicked in their tops after the manner of arrows, probably enough in memory of S. Edmund, who was shot to death with arrows by the Danes.”

Guntons History of the church of Peterburgh, 1686, p.4.

spotted on p xl of ‘Robin Hood’ v1 by Joseph Ritson, 1832 (online at Google Books).

Camden says that they were set up “to testify that the carriages of stone, from Barnack to Gunwade Ferry, and from thence to be conveyed to St. Edmund’s Bury, should pass that way toll free. They are still called St. Edmund’s stones, and the balk, St. Edmund’s Balk. The stones on the top are nicked after the manner of arrows, in memory of St. Edmund, who was shot to death with arrows.”

Carnedd Llewelyn is topped by a Bronze age cairn. It’s about 8m in diameter and up to 1.5m in height, according to Coflein, and the county boundary passes through it.

According to local tradition, a giant named Rhitta, the terror of the surrounding country, clothed in a garment woven from the beards of the enemies he had slain, was formerly the sole inhabitant of Carnedd Llewelyn.

p132 of ‘Notes of Family Excursions in North Wales’, by J. O. Halliwell, 1860.

This is like Geoffrey of Monmouth’s 12thC story: “[King Arthur] told them he had found none of so great strength, since he killed the giant Ritho, who had challenged him to fight, upon the mountain Aravius. This giant had made himself furs of the beards of kings he had killed, and had sent word to Arthur carefully to cut of his beardand send it to him; and then, out of respect to his pre-eminence over other kings, his beard should have the honour of the principal place. But if he refused to do it, he challenged him to a duel, with this offer, that the conqueror should have the furs, and also the beard of the vanquished for a trophy of his victory.” (from Aaron Thompson’s version, here:
yorku.ca/inpar/geoffrey_thompson.pdf )

So maybe the cairn is the resting place of Ritho then? But if it’s actually of Llewelyn the Great (Llywelyn ap Iorwerth), then that would be a fitting spot for him, too.

There are traces of a serious number of round huts here. Coflein conscientiously lists each one (there are nearly 30) but is forced to say ‘hard to discern in the field due to fairly extensive stone scatter’. The huts lie handily along the course of the Pant-y-griafolen stream. Some of its water comes from Llyn Dulyn, ‘the black lake’, which is very close by and was a natural lake adapted as a reservoir in the 19th century.

The dark lake has some strange folklore, as such a dramatic place might:

The extraordinary property of producing rain, when spilt upon a stone, is attributed to the waters of Llyn Dulyn, in Snowdon, according to the following account, which is translated from the Greal, a Welsh Magazine, published in London, 1805.

“There is a lake in the mountains of Snowdon, called Dulyn, in a rugged valley, encircled by high steep rocks. This lake is extremely black, and its fish are deformed and unsightly, having large heads and small bodies. No wild swans are ever seen alighting upon it (such as are on all the other lakes in Snowdon), nor ducks, nor any bird whatever. And there is a causeway of stones leading into this lake; and if any one goes along this causeway, even when it is hot sunshine, and throws water so as to wet the furthest stone, which is called the Red Altar [yr Allawr Goch], it is a chance if it do not rain before night.
Witness, T. Prys, of Plas Iolyn, and Sion Davydd, of Rhiwlas, in Llan Silin.”

This is mentioned in Lady Guest’s version of the Mabinogion, online at the Sacred Texts Archive (p77).
sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/mab/mab09.htm

Much nastier, is this from chapter one of Marie Trevelyan’s ‘Folk-lore and folk-stories of Wales’ (1909):

This black lake is supposed to be an extinct and fathomless volcano, and shepherds in the surrounding mountains used to say that the appearance of a dove near those black and fateful waters foretokened the descent of a beautiful but wicked woman’s soul to torment in the underworld.

In the seventeenth century people believed that if anybody had the courage on one of the “three-spirit nights” to watch beside Llyn Dulyn he would see who were to die within the next twelve months. Fiends would arise from the lake and drag those who had led evil lives into the black waters. Those who had led good lives would be guided past the causeway leading to the lake, and vanish in spirit forms robed in white. A reputed witch disappeared from the district, and a shepherd said he saw her being dragged into the black waters. [A.B.]

Online at V Wales.
vwales.co.uk/ebooks/welshfolklore/chapt1.htm

Its malign influence has obviously continued to have effect, as in 1942 a plane crashed into the tall and foreboding rocks behind, and pieces of it eventually wound up in the lake, where they are yet.

In the same neighbourhood [as a hut circle] are the remnants of two singular avenues of upright stones, placed diagonally to each other, forming, between two rows of stones, a walk in the shape of the letter L, one of the avenues descending towards the sea, the other parallel with it.

Many of these upright stones have been unfortunately removed of late years, but a sufficient number of the smaller ones remain to enable the directions of the avenues to be traced. No plausible explanation of the character of these remains has been given; but avenues of stones have been found at Avebury, and in other places, leading to what are called Druidical circles.

The Welsh call them Hwylfar Ceirw, the high road of the deer, the tradition being that these stones formed a path by which those animals, formerly numerous in this county, descended to a meadow below.

[.. of the miscellaneous antiquities of the Great Orme] Hwylfar Ceirw is the most curious, and pity it is that it should have been so materially injured by the removal of the largest stones. It is to be hoped that what still remains of it will be carefully preserved.

p76 of ‘Notes of Family Excursions in North Wales’, by J. O. Halliwell, 1860. Online at Google Books

This page at the ‘Great Orme Expedition Society‘
goes.org.uk/html/1880letter.html
has a letter from 1880 which explains the name as follows:

A few paces westward of Dolfechan we find some divination stones, though the place is generally called at present “Hwylfa Ceirw” because the hunters used to drive the stags between those rows of stones in order to catch and spear them, when the whole mountain was a deer park; but the more ancient name “Cerrig Coch” ie Divination stones still cling to them.

Coflein lists this as a monument, classifying it as ‘prehistoric’, but gives no more information, disappointingly.

In a rock to the westward of Abergele, high above the road, after passing the large modern astellated mansion called Gwrych Castle, is a singular cavern termed Cefn Ogo, the entrance of which has not been inaptly compared to “the portal of a noble cathedral, arched, and divided within by what has the appearance of a great column.” This cave seems never to have been thoroughly explored. It is said to be penetrable about forty yards, when further progress is arrested by a chasm or by water; I could not with certainty ascertain which. The entrance is dirty and unpromising, and the large stalactites with which it abounds are neither fanciful nor brilliant.

It is strange that no adventurous Welshman has yet penetrated the depths of this cavern, in defiance of the witch, who, according to local tradition, guards a vast treasure of gold at the very extremity of the cave. There is an absurd story told in the Month’s Tour in North Wales, 1781, to the effect that four men, who attempted to explore the cavern, penetrated to a distance that required the consumption of three pounds of candles, and that two of the company were lost in its recesses.

Thomas Johnson, an enthusiastic botanist of the seventeenth century, visited this cave in 1639. The hill itself was, he says, called Garth Gogo, and the popular name of the cavern was Ogo Gumbyd, so styled after the giant Gumbyd, who was said to have been its original inhabitant. All traces of this tradition appear to be now lost. Johnson, who cared more for wild flowers than for old tales, notes having found in the cavern specimens of golden saxifrage and other plants.

p58 in ‘Notes of Family Excursions in North Wales’, by J. O. Halliwell, 1860. Online at Google Books

In all likelihood, this fort on its isolated hill dates to the Iron Age. ‘Cawr’ indicates it belonged to a Giant. In its side is a curious gash, 10ft – 15ft wide, 22ft deep, and 900ft long, according to Coflein’s record.

The only relic of antiquity of much interest hereabouts is the Roman mine, a deep trench cut right through the hill, instead of a shaft being made, as in more recent times. This mine is on the side of Castell Cawr, a raised modern pathway having been formed across it. The ancient trench is, in some parts, of amazing depth. It is, or was, called by the Welsh, Ffos-y-bleiddiaid, or the ditch of the wolves. According to a local guidebook, -- “In driving a level into the mountain, some years ago, the miners discovered that the Romans had been deep in the bowels of the earth before them. They had followed the vein, where it was large enough to admit of a small man, and where it opened out into a larger chamber, they had cleared it quite away. When the vein became too small to admit a man, they were obliged to relinquish the ore. Some curious hammers and tools, but almost decayed into dust, were found in these chambers; also the golden hilt of a Roman sword.”

Well who knows. Coflein concedes it might be a Roman lead mine. The Clwyd Powys Archaeological Trust say “Ffos-y-Bleiddiaid is a natural limestone fissure that crosses the north and coastal side of the hillfort of Castell Cawr. Locally known either as the Fosse of Wolves or the Roman Fosse (Ffos-y-Rhufeiniaid) since it has been claimed that Roman hammers and tools together with the hilt of a Roman sword had been found in the vicinity. The evidence of Roman workings, dating from 19th-century writings remains unsubstantiated.”

The strange feature would be food for the imagination, whether natural, ancient, or more recently worked, I guess.

quote from p50 of ‘Notes of Family Excursions in North Wales’, by J. O. Halliwell, 1860. Online at Google Books.