Latest Folklore

Another story about the Broch.

“In Houstry, Dunbeath, Caithness, about the year 1809 or 1810, David Gunn, a crofter, in the course of making a kail-yaird, interfered with one of those prehistoric ruins known as Brochs which are so numerous in that northern region. Now it was well known that this Broch was a fairy habitation, and, in any case, it was well known that to tamper with a Broch or to carry away any of its materials was extremely uncanny.”

But Mr Gunn didn’t take any notice, and unfortunately a plague broke out that decimated the cattle of the whole district. Thanks a lot.

The was a meeting of local important types, and they decided on a Teine-Eigin as the best step forward. So they got a branch and stripped off its bark, and purified it by popping it on a little island in the Houstry Burn, so it was separated from everydayness by the flowing water. Everyone put out any fires that were burning. Then someone made a fire with the purified wood, and all the other fires were kindled from it anew.

The contributor of this story actually sent in a photo of one of these special bits of wood. It’s got round dips in it as though it’s been used (maybe) for making fire by a bow/drill method. But it hasn’t got little v-shaped notches like wot Ray Mears would recommend.

See
Sacred Fire
R. C. Maclagan
Folklore, Vol. 9, No. 3. (Sep., 1898), pp. 280-281.

I think the following strange story probably relates to the chambered cairn here?

The Druid of Ach a’ bheannaich (i.e. The Druid of the Mound of Blessing or Salutation).

At a short distance to the east of the “Druidical” stones at Acha’bheannaich, parish of Latheron, Caithness, there is a cairn overgrown with heather. In the middle of this cairn there is a small enclosure that closely resembles one of the “Druidical” altars that one may see in various parts of the Highlands. I visited this “Druidical” fane in the winter of 1874. The following legend associated with this tumulus was related to me by one of the Caithness ministers, an intimate friend, now deceased:

“When the principal Druid of that district had become so old and infirm that he could no longer perform the functions of his office, he was burnt alive on this altar as a sacrifice. While he was being offered, the young Druid who had been appointed his successor in office kept going round in the altar-smoke – ex fumo dare lucem-- that he might catch the spirit of his predecessor as it took its flight.”

p87 in
Folklore from the Hebrides. III
Malcolm MacPhail
Folklore, Vol. 9, No. 1. (Mar., 1898), pp. 84-93.

It’s hard to know how to interpret it really. Humour? Pro-Christian propaganda? Real belief? Who knows.

This round barrow (unusual for Staffordshire with its bank and ditch) is on a little hill called ‘The Roundabout’, just outside Norbury. It overlooks the ‘High Bridge’ over the canal, which I believe to be the location for the following story (the other bridge near Norbury looks too near buildings to be scary). I wonder if its presence added to the uncannyness of the location. I’d like to think so.

A short distance from the village there is a bridge over the Birmingham and Liverpool Canal which is always regarded as rather an uncanny place at night. A labouring man who had to cross this bridge with a horse and cart about ten o’clock one evening in January, 1879, arrived at home in an extraordinary state of fright and agitation, and related that just as he passed the bridge a black thing with white eyes sprang out of the hedgerow on to his horse.

The terrified horse broke into a gallop; the man tried to knock off the creature with his whip, but the whip went through the Thing and fell from his hand to the ground. How he got rid of the intruder or reached home at last he hardly knew, but the whip was picked up the next day just where he said he had dropped it.

The story of his strange encounter quickly spread, and this was the explanation that was offered by a local wiseacre: “It was the Man-Monkey as always does come again on the Big Bridge, ever since the man was drowned in the ‘Cut’.”

p368 in
Staffordshire Folk and Their Lore
C. S. Burne
Folklore, Vol. 7, No. 4. (Dec., 1896), pp. 366-386.

She has a longer version in ‘Shropshire Folklore’ in which it’s not a ‘wiseacre’ but the policeman!
archive.org/stream/shropshirefolkl00burngoog#page/n130/mode/2up

You would imagine that the two hills mentioned have got to be Bennachie and Mither Tap. Elspet’s Cairn was at NJ706298. It was trenched in 1849 and a cist with a skull and arrowheads/ axes were found. Nothing remains of it now, but it was on a noticeable bump, a couple of miles west of New Craig stone circle.

On two hills in the Highlands of Aberdeenshire the Banshee had to be propitiated by the traveller over the hills. This was done by placing near a well on each hill a barley-meal cake marked on one side by a round figure O. If the cake was not left death or some dire calamity befell the traveller. On one occasion a woman had to cross one of the hills. She neglected to leave the customary offering. She paid the penalty. She died at a cairn not far from the well. The cairn bears the name of Cairn Alshish, i.e. Elspet’s Cairn.
J. Farquharston, Corgarff.

Notes on Beltane Cakes
J. Farquharson
Folklore, Vol. 6, No. 1. (Mar., 1895), p5.

More on the geese and their origin.. in the 1808 Gentleman’s Magazine where the Ballad was originally? published (p341).

The following Ballad was written at Daylesford, the residence of Warren Hastings, esq. and was suggested by the circumstance of his having removed a number of large stones, which lay in the neighbourhood, to form the rock work which adorns his grounds, furnishing materials chiefly for a little Island, and the declivities of an artificial Cascade.

These stones which were situated on the summit of a hill in the parish of Addlestrop, in Gloucestershire, near the point where it borders upon the three adjoining counties, had stood for time immemorial; and whether they owed their position to Art or Nature, accident or design, has never been determined: hbut popular tradition, as is usual in cases of the like dilemma, has furnished a ready solution to this inquiry, by ascribing their origin to enchantment.

It is accordingly pretended that as an old woman was driving her geese to pasture upon Addlestrop hill, she was met by one of the Weird Sisters, who demanded alms, and upon being refused, converted the whole flock into so many stones, which have ever since retained the name of the Grey Geese of Addlestrop Hill.

In relating this Metamorphosis, no variation has been made from the antient legend; nor has any derivation from truth been resorted to in the narration of their subsequent history, farther than in attributing to the magical completion of a fictitious prophecy, what was, in reality, the effect of taste and a creative invention in the amiable proprietors of Daylesford House.

Next time you want to turn some stones into a water feature, just call it ‘taste and creative invention’, and it’ll be fine.

So. Maybe these aren’t the goose stones at all? and it is the story that has moved from Adlestrop Hill to the common.

The church, called St. Michael de Rupe in old records, (of which one dates as early as 1283,) is a curious little weather-worn structure.. It stands on the verge of a precipice, and in a diminutive churchyard, containing a few mouldering gravestones. An erroneous idea has been very generally entertained, that in digging burial-places at this spot the rock is found to be so saturated with moisture that the excavation is, in a short time, filled with water..

..[On] the eastern side [of the hill] a spring gushes forth which has been never known to fail..

p10 in A Hand-book for Travellers in Devon & Cornwall, by John Murray (1851).

Folklore on the stones and some surrounding landscape features:

This interesting old monument derives its name from a whimsical tradition that three spinsters (who were spinners) erected it one morning before breakfast; but “may we not,“* says Mr. Rowe (Peramb. of Dartmoor), “detect in this legend of the three fabulous spinners the terrible Valkyriur of the dark mythology of our Northern ancesters – the Fatal Sisters, the choosers of the slain, whose dread office was to ‘weave the warp and weave the woof of destiny.’”

Polwhele informs us that the legend varies, in that for the three spinsters some have substituted three young men and their father, who brought the stones from the highest part of Dartmoor; and in this phase of the legend has been traced an obscured tradition of Noah and his three sons.

.. The hill on which it stands commands an excellent view of Cawsand Beacon. About 100 yds. beyond the cromlech on the other (N.) side of the lane, is a pond of water, of about 3 acres, called Bradmere Pool, prettily situated in a wood. It is said to be unfathomable, and to remain full to the brim during the driest seasons, and some regard it as artificially formed and of high antiquity – in short a Druidical pool of lustration connected with the adjacent cromlech..

.. The country-people have a legend of a passage formed of large stones leading underground from Bradmere to the Teign, near the logan stone..

p65 in ‘A Hand-book for Travellers in Devon & Cornwall’ by John Murray (1851).

*[ooh go on then].

Ok this isn’t exactly connected with the barrows, but with the nearby brook and a stone there. It was said to be haunted by the Buckland Shag, “a four footed beast with a shaggy coat.” Sounds like one of those big black dogs to me – and they often like barrows too. The actual story refers to where the Shag Brook crosses the main road, which would be at TQ228508.

“By the side of this very stream laid a large stone for I know not how many years – perhaps for centuries.” The lane here was the place where the owner of the manor house of Buckland used to take a local girl courting. But although he swore ‘eternal fidelity’ the cad was just trying to.. well you know the name of the stream. When he suggested this the poor girl was so shocked that ‘her pure spirit escaped’ from her body and she dropped down dead. This must have been a bit of a shock because the poor man then felt the need to stab himself with his own dagger, and fell dead next to her.

The next morning someone (probably walking their dog) spotted a lovely untainted pure stream and a dark stone, dripping blood into it – the implication, you see, being that they had been transformed into these emblems of Innocence and Hardened Wickedness. Well, “this legend has, perhaps naturally, raised a local spectre. At the dreary hour of midnight a terrific object has been seen lingering about the spot.” It used to be seen on the stone, but some interfering descendent of the manor owner moved the stone to his own place. But “the stone, however, still continued to bleed, and I believe it oozes forth its crimson drops even to the present day. Its removal did not remove or intimidate the spectre.”

There is some more on the beast, but unfortunately the scan on Google Books misses this page out.

From p485 of The Gentleman’s Magazine, Dec 1827 (v97).

More:
On the high road between Buckland and Reigate the devil is popularly believed to amuse himself with dancing, sometimes in the shape of a dog, and at others in that of a donkey.. He has been shot at repeatedly, but his Satanic Majesty turned out as might have been expected altogether bullet-proof. One old fellow, who was bolder than his neighbours, then ventured near enough to run a pitch-fork through him, but he danced on as merrily as ever.. Some unbelievers, however, who have a wonderful propensity for explaining everything by natural causes, have hinted at the presence of marshy grounds in the neighbourhood as being likely enough to have originated certain meteoric illusions, which by the usual process of exaggeration might grow into a dancing devil.. the people choose to believe their own eye-sight, and will not give up their Buckland Hag, as they call this apparition, let philosophy say what it pleases.

p207 in ‘New Curiosities of Literature’ by George Soane (1849).

Prior to 1886 the only feature of any real note in the Valley Parade environs was a holy well that emerged near the corner of the football grounds Midland Road and Bradford End stands; hence the road Holywell Ash Lane. Today the site of the well is covered by the football pitch.

Only the road name survives as a reminder of what was apparently one of the district’s foremost attractions. On Sundays and holidays people would gather to take the waters and leave pins, coins, rags and food as offerings to the spirit that resided in the waters.

Accounts suggest that the well was covered and had a great ash tree standing over it (hence ‘holy ash’). There was also a standing stone called the wart stone of unknown antiquity. The stone had a carved depression that collected water. It was believed that the water was a miraculous cure for warts. Indeed, as early as 1638 the Holy Well had been credited with healing powers.

The well suffered a decline in popularity during the late nineteenth century and its keepers resorted to importing sulphur water from Harrogate, which they sold for a half penny per cup. The well disappeared under the Valley Parade pitch during the summer of 1886 and the wart stone was moved to the top of Holywell Ash Lane – which then ran straight up to Manningham Lane. The stone was still there as late as 1911 but thereafter it seems to have disappeared into the mists of time.

At East Knoyle, in Wiltshire, where I lived from 1869 to 1872, there is, or was, in a field at the foot of the chalk downs, a large irregular stone or rock, of which it was said that there was as much below ground as above, and that many horses had been employed in a vain attempt to remove it. A labourer working in the garden of Knoyle House, once told me, “they do say as Old Nick dropped it there, when he was carrying it to build Stonehenge.”

Miscellanea
Folk-Lore Jottings from the Western Counties
Grey Hubert Skipwith
Folklore, Vol. 5, No. 4. (Dec., 1894), pp. 339-340.

L. V. Grinsell, puts it at ST882312, in
The Legendary History and Folklore of Stonehenge
Folklore, Vol. 87, No. 1. (1976), pp. 5-20.

But is it still there?? Similar stories apply to other lone sarsen stones in Wiltshire. Perhaps the fact this site hasn’t been added before suggests its demise.

Tradition says that some shepherds, on a part of the high ridge over Ivinghoe, on the borders of Buckinghamshire and Hertfordshire, and at a distance of at least thirty miles in a direct line from Edge Hill, saw a twinkling light to the northward, and, upon communication with their minister, ‘a godly and well-affected person,’ fired the beacon there also, which was seen at Harrow on the Hill, and from thence at once carried on to London; and that thus the news was given along a line of more than sixty miles, by the assistance of only two intermediate fires.

p310 in ‘Some Memorials of John Hampden, his party and his times’ by Lord Nugent, v2 (1832).

The battle of Edgehill in 1682 was the first major battle of the Civil War.

Bad Rhiannon, adding an allegedly ~holy~ well. But this isn’t just any holy well, oh no. This holy well is right on the top of a mountain. Ha! a reckless contributor wouldn’t know whether to add it as a sacred well or a sacred mountain. Is it justifiable. Possibly. Read on.

BEN NEWE WELL.
There is a big rugged rock on the top of Ben Newe in Strathdon, Aberdeenshire. On the north side of this rock, under a projection, there is a small circular-shaped hollow which always contains water. Everyone that goes to the top of the hill must put some small object into it, and then take a draught of water off it. Unless this is done the traveller will not reach in life the foot of the hill. I climbed the hill in June of 1890, and saw in the well several pins, a small bone, a pill-box, a piece of a flower, and a few other objects.*

The RCAHMS record says the OS visited in 1968, and ‘offerings of coins [were] still made’.

From p69 of
Guardian Spirits of Wells and Lochs
W. Gregor
Folklore, Vol. 3, No. 1. (Mar., 1892), pp. 67-73.

*try not to think of it as Victorian geocaching.

The RCAHMS record also mentions WJ Watson’s 1926 ‘History of the Celtic place-names of Scotland’ in which he proposes “The well may be the sacred place (the Celtic ‘nemeton’) preserved in the ‘Newe’ element of Ben Newe”.

Below the barrow on the south side of the hill is ‘Eldon Hole’, a scary looking chasm that is known as one of the Wonders of the Peak. It was rumoured to be bottomless. “..in the reign of Elizabeth, the Earl of Leicester is said to have hired a man to go down into Eldon Hole, to observe its form, and ascertain its depth.. ‘He was let down about two hundred ells, and, after he had remained at the length of the rope awhile, he was pulled up again, with great expectation of some discoveries; but when he came up he was senseless, and died within eight days of a phrensy.’”
p181 in Museum Europæum; or, Select antiquities ... of nature and art, in Europe; compiled by C. Hulbert (1825)

A two mile plumbline was supposed to have been lowered down without finding the bottom.

This ‘Cressbrook’ page (with a picture) rather dully says it’s only 60m deep. Still quite deep admittedly. Mad people go caving in it.
cressbrook.co.uk/visits/eldonhole.php
People (and sheep) still fall into it and die now and again, so it hasn’t lost its scary reputation just yet. Though it may not be the entrance to Hell it was previously thought to be.

A local phrase:

Eldon Hole wants filling up [said as a hint that some statement is untrue].

p292 in
Derbyshire Sayings
George Hibbert; Charlotte S. Burne
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 7, No. 4. (1889), pp. 291-293.

According to Alaric Hall’s article here
eprints.gla.ac.uk/3146/01/are23there_any_elves_offprint.pdf
the hill was known as ‘Elvedon Hill’ in the 13th century – a name that could come from Elves (or it could be from person’s name). Not that you’d be surprised to find elves here really.

Bit of a link here for folklore addicts (just me then): The Reverend Robert Kirk, he of ‘The Secret Commonwealth’, was a minister here in Balquhidder for 19 years, before he transferred to Aberfoyle. And eventually disappeared into the Other world.
You can read ‘The Secret Commonwealth’ at the Sacred Texts Archive, here:
sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/sce/index.htm

Saint Angus really liked it here.

[He] is said to have come to the glen from the eastward, and to have been so much struck with its marvellous beauty that he blessed it. The remains of the stone on which he sat to rest are still visible in the gable of one of the farm buildings at Easter Auchleskine, and the turn of the road is yet called “Beannachadh Aonghais” (Angus’s Blessing).

From p83 of JM Gow’s (1887)
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7 – link below.

If the building’s still there, the stone probably will be too – the OS saw it at NN 5499 2071 when they checked in 1979. “This much weathered stone, locally associated with St Angus, is built into the top of the E gable end of a farm building.” (RCAHMS record).

There are lots of other stones with cupmarks or stories in the vicinity (including a rumoured stone circle and a ‘stone setting’, but the RCAHMS don’t seem to think these have much antiquity, when they can be tracked down).

Although this is apparently cupmarkless, it seems worthy of mention as is surrounded by other sites and helps complete the stoney folklore of the area?

Going still further east to the first turning of the road beyond the farmhouse of “Wester Auchleskine, and on the left-hand side, there used to be a large boulder with a natural cavity in its side, famous as a curing well for sore eyes. This stone was called “Clach nan sul” (the Stone of the Eyes). In 1878 the road trustees caused it to be blasted, as it was supposed to be a danger in the dark to passing vehicles. Its fragments were broken up, and used as road metal.

..It is said that money used to be left in the cavity by the patients, and my informant stated that people when going to church, having forgotten their small change, used in passing to put their hands in the well and find a coin; indeed, he had himself done so more than once.

Gow, J M (1887 )
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, p85.

The OS reported in 1968 that “the remains of this stone, considerably fractured and the natural cavity no longer evident, were pointed out by Mr Ferguson (D Ferguson, farmer, Auchleskine, Balquhidder) in the bank on the N side of the road. It is still known as ‘Clach nan sul’ (Information from Mr Stewart MacIntrye, Stronslaney).” (from RCAHMS record)

Once on a market day a large number of armed Buclianans came over from Leny and quarrelled with the Maclaurins, the result being such a terrible conflict that only two of the Leny men escaped from the spot. The slaughtered Buclianans were thrown into a pool of the Balvaig River adjoining, and that part of the river is to this day called ” Linn na Seichachan (the Linn of the Hides), where the corpses of the slain for a time stopped the course of the stream.

The two men who fled had only a short respite. They swam the river and made for home, but were pursued, one being overtaken and killed on the hillside about a mile from the market. A cairn marks the spot where he fell. The other, making for Strathyre, met his fate a little farther on, the spot being still known as “Stron-lenac,” the Leny Man’s Point).

This is the cairn then. The RCAHMS record says the OS visited it in the 1960s and described it as a low, grassed-over mound of stones, 3.0m in diameter and 0.3m high. “On top of this, a modern cairn, with many white stones, had been been erected. Whether or not this is a burial cairn could not be established but there are very strong local traditions agreeing with that by Gow”.

Story from Gow, J M (1887)
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, 83-4.

According to the notes on the RCAHMS site, this standing stone is about 1.2m high, 0.9m broad and up to 40cm thick.

It is shaped like a wedge, with the edge to the east, and is famous in Balquhidder as the place where trials of strength took place. A large round water-worn boulder, named after the district, “Puderag,” and weighing between two and three hundredweight, was the testing stone, which had to be lifted and placed on the top of the standing stone. There used to be a step about 18 inches from the top, on the east side of the stone, on which the lifting stone rested in its progress to the top. This step or ledge was broken off about thirty years ago, as told to me by the person who actually did it, and the breadth of the stone was thereby reduced about 8 inches. This particular mode of developing and testing the strength of the young men of the district has now fallen into disuse, and the lifting-stone game is a thing of the past. A former minister of the parish pronounced it a dangerous
pastime. Many persons were permanently injured by their efforts to raise the stone, and it is said that he caused it to be thrown into the river, but others said it was built into the manse dyke, where it still remains. There were similar stones at Monachyle, at Strathyre, and at Callander, and no doubt in every district round about, but the man who could lift ” Puderag ” was a strong man and a champion.

J M Gow’s 1887 ‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, 84.

ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_021/21_083_088.pdf

It sounds like this site is a bit of a muddle now, and there won’t be much to see. It is honestly thought to have prehistoric roots though:
rcahms.gov.uk/pls/portal/newcanmore.details_gis?inumlink=5140

The burn of Invernauld, and the hill of Durcha, on the estate of Rose hall, are still believed to be haunted by fairies who once chased a man into the sea, and destroyed a new mill, because the earth for the embankment of the mill-dam had been dug from the side of the hill. The hill of Durcha is also the locality assigned for the following tale:-

A man whose wife had just been delivered of her first-born set off with a friend to the town of Tain to have the child’s birth entered in the sessions-books, and to buy a cask of whiskey for the christening fete. As they returned, weary with a day’s walk [..] they sat down to rest at the foot of this hill, near a large hole, from which they were ere long astonished to hear a sound of piping and dancing. The father, feeling very curious, entered the cavern, went a few steps in, and disappeared. The story of his fate sounded less improbable then than it would now, but his companion was severely animadverted* on, and when a week elapsed, and the baptism was over, and still no signs of the lost one’s return, he as accused of having murdered his friend. He denied it, and again and again repeated the tale of his friend’s disappearance down the cavern’s mouth.

He begged a year and a day’s law to vindicate himself, if possible, and used to repair at dusk to the fatal spot, and there call and pray. The term allowed him had but one more day to run, and, as usual, he sat in the gloaming by the cavern, when what seemed as his friend’s shadow passed within it. He leant down, heard reel-tunes and pipes, and suddenly descried the missing man tripping merrily with the fairies. He caught him by the sleeve, stopped him, and pulled him out. “Bless me! why could you not let me finish my reel, Sandy?” cried the dancer. “Bless me!” rejoined Sandy, “have you not had enough of reeling this last twelvemonth?” “Last twelvemonth!” cried the other in amazement; nor could he believe the truth concerning himself till he found his wife sitting by the door with a yearling child in her arms. So quickly does time pass in the company of the “good people.”

p217-18 in
The Folk-Lore of Sutherland-Shire [Continued]
Miss Dempster
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 6, No. 4. (1888), pp. 215-252.

*Animadvert – meaning ‘To remark or comment critically, usually with strong disapproval or censure’. A new and useful word to me.

A local newspaper, in 1883 (Cornishman), gives the following:-
“Superstitions die hard. -- A horse died the other day on a farm in the neighbourhood of St. Ives. Its carcase was dragged on a Sunday away up to the granite rock basins and weather-worn bosses of Trecroben hill, and there burnt, in order to drive away the evil spell, or ill-wishing, which afflicted the farm where the animal belonged.”

On p195 of
Cornish Folk-Lore. Part III. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 3. (1887), pp. 177-220.

A lot of effort – so a deliberate effort to take it to a particular place? Or is it just that burning horses are very stinky.

..although an innocent baby held in the arms is thought in Cornwall to protect the holder from mischief caused by ghosts and witches, it has no power over [spriggans], who are not supposed to have souls.

This legend took place under Chapel Carn Brea on the old road from Penzance to St. Just in Penwith. The mother, Jenny Trayer by name, was first alarmed on her return one night from her work in the harvest field by not finding her child in its cradle, but in a corner of the kitchen where in olden days the wood and furze for the general open fires was kept. She was however too tired to take much notice, and went to bed, and slept soundly until the morning.

From that time forth she had no peace; the child was never satisfied but when eating or drinking, or when she had it dandling in her arms.

The poor woman consulted her neigbours in turn as to what she should do with the changeling (as one and all agreed that it was). On recommended her to dip it on the three first Wednesdays in May in Chapel Uny Well, which advice was twice faithfully carried out in the prescribed manner. The third Wednesday was very wet and windy, but Jenny determined to persevere in this treatment of her ugly bantling, and holding the brat (who seemed to enjoy the storm) firmly on her shoulders, she trudged off. When they got about half way, a shrill voice from behind some rocks was heard to say,
“Tredrill! Tredrill!
Thy wife and children greet thee well.”

Not seeing anyone, the woman was of course alarmed, and her fright increased when the imp made answer in a similar voice:
“What care I for wife or child,
When I ride on Dowdy’s back to the Chapel Well,
And have got pap my fill?”

After this adventure, she took the advice of another neighbour, who told her the best way to get rid of the spriggan and have her own child returned was “to put the small body upon the ashes pile, and beat it well with a broom; then lay it naked under a church stile; there leave it and keep out of sight and hearing till the turn of night; when nine times out of ten, the thing will be taken away and the stolen child returned.”

This was finally done, all the women of the village after it had been put upon a convenient pile “belabouring it with their brooms,” upon which it naturally set up a frightful roar. AFter dark it was laid under the stile, and there next morning the woman “found her own ‘dear cheeld’ sleeping on some dry straw” most beautifully clean and wrapped ina piece of chintz.
“Jenny nursed her recovered child with great care, but there was always something queer about it, as there always is about one that has been in the fairies power – if only for a few days.”

Bottrell being quoted on p183/4 of
Cornish Folk-Lore. Part III. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 3. (1887), pp. 177-220.

In the old abbey gardens at Tresco is a curious stone, about four feet long, two feet wide, and six inches in thickness, in an upright position. Near the top are two holes, one above the other (one being somewhat larger than the other), through which a man might pass his hand. It is supposed to be an old Druidical betrothal or wishing-stone, and used before the monks built the abbey at Tresco. Young people, engaged to be married, would pass their hands through the holes, and, joining them together, would so plight their troth. As a wishing-stone, or to break a spell, a ring woudl be passed through the holes with some incantations. – J.C. Tonkin’s Guide to the Isles of Scilly.

p40 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

Giants, of course, frequently played a great part in the history of Scilly. Buzza’s Hill, just beyond Hugh Town (St. Mary’s), commemorates a giant of the name of Bosow, who made his home on its summit (now crowned by a Spanish windmill), and from whom the family of Bosow were decended.

p40 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

On a hill near Veryan is a barrow, in which Gerennius, a mythical king of Cornwall, was said to have been buried many centuries ago, with his crown on his head, lying in his golden boat with silver oars. It was opened in 1855 when nothing but a kistvaen (a rude stone chest) containing his ashes was found. His palace of Dingerein was in the neighbouring village of Gerrans. A subterranean passage, now known as Mermaid’s Hole, one day discovered when ploughing a field, was supposed to have led from it to the sea.

p30 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

I can’t see Mermaid’s Hole on the map, so be careful not to fall into it if it’s still there.

I know this is long, and it’s about a well, but maybe the bit that says “A small piece torn (not cut) from the child’s clothes was hung for luck (if possible out of sight) on a thorn...” isn’t something often quoted in your new age holy well books. Might be something to think about at the Swallowhead Springs for example. Or will it just become a different type of geotrashing.

In East Cornwall they have a custom of bathing in the sea on the three first Sunday mornings in May. And in West Cornwall children were taken before sunrise on those days to the holy wells, notably to that of St. Maddern (Madron) near Penzance, to be there dipped into the running water that they might be cured of the rickets and other childish disorders. After being stripped naked they were plunged three times into the water, the parents facing the sun, and passed round the well nine times from east to west. They were then dressed, and laid by the side of the well to sleep in the sun; should they do so and the water bubble it was considered a good sign. Not a word was to be spoken the whole time for fear of breaking the spell.

A small piece torn (not cut) from the child’s clothes was hung for luck (if possible out of sight) on a thorn which grew out of the chapel wall. Some of these bits of rag may still sometimes be found, fluttering on the neighbouring bushes. I know two well-educated people who in 1840, having a son who could not walk at the age of two, carried him and dipped him in Madron well, a distance of three miles from their home, on the two first Sundays in May; but on the third the father refused to go. Some authorities say this well should be visited on the first three Wednesdays in May; as was for the same purpose another holy well at Chapel Euny (or St. Uny) near Sancred.

The Weslyans hold an open-air service on the first three Sunday afternoons in May, at a ruined chapel near to Madron-well, in the south wall of which a hole may be seen, through which the water from the well runs into a small baptistry in the south-west corner.

Parties of young girls to this day walk there in May to try for sweethearts. Crooked pins, or small heavy things, are dropped into the well in couples; if they keep together the pair will be married; the number of bubbles they make in falling shows the time that will elapse before the event.

Sometimes two pieces of straw formed into a cross, fastened in the centre by a pin, were used in these divinations. An old woman who lived in a cottage at a little distance formerly frequented the well and instructed visitors how to work the charms; she was never paid in money, but small presents were placed were she could find them. Pilgrims from all parts of England centuries ago resorted to St. Maddern’s well: that was fames, as was also her grave, for many miraculous cures.

p228-30 in
Cornish Feasts and “Feasten” Customs. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 4, No. 3. (1886), pp. 221-249.