Latest Folklore

There are a number of round barrows and cairns on this hilltop. A contributor to Notes and Queries (March 5th 1870) found some folklore referring to them in Fenton’s ‘Tour through Pembrokeshire’ (1811). “In the midst of this convulsed chaos (Plumstone Mountain) are three rocking-stones, and a cromlech ; and on the top of one of the highest fragments, in an excavation on the surface, I found water, said to be always there, and probably, as this was the 22nd of July, after a long run of dry weather.”

— On visiting Kit’s Coty House near Maidstone, Kent, a few months ago, I was informed, by a person who apparently knew something of the country round about, of the following common belief by the rustics of the district. It is said by them that a pool of water contained in a hollow on the top of the capstone never dries up, not even in the hottest weather, when it might reasonably be supposed to soon evaporate.

A contribution to Notes and Queries by EHW Dunkin, January 8th, 1870.

A slightly different take on the legend is this, from N+Q from July 26th 1879 –

A belief was current in the neighbourhood of these stones—say in Rochester, &c. — some forty-two years ago, that there was on Kit’s covering stone a basin of water that, ladle it out as you would, could never be emptied. Two of us, curious boys, mounted the flat roof and found, not one basin, but two, or one cavity divided by a septum.

Commencing on Baconian principles, we carefully examined these, and the murder soon seemed out. The septum had a communicating hole below, and our minds were satisfied with the theory that, not caring to take the trouble of throwing the water over the stone, some one had ladled it from one basin into the other, with the result, of course, of everything remaining in status quo.

Mr. Fletcher [in ‘Antiquity’] says that Gildas’ mention of a monument erected in Kent to Horsa and bearing his name should be treated with scepticism. Was not the White Horse Stone near Aylesford supposed to be this ” monument” ? An erratic boulder, probably ; but Gildas as quoted does not say that a monument was set up, only that one bore Horsa’s name after he was slain in battle and buried in Kent.

That the locality of the White Horse Stone used to be haunted by a white horse and its rider (who was buried thereabouts), both of them wrapped in flame, might be thought to have perpetuated a memory of cremation, if such a theory were not so shockingly unscientific.

At any rate, Aylesford seems to have been a horsy neighbourhood long before it saw any Saxons. Excavations there have unearthed, decorative steeds that were lying buried when Caesar came—strange-looking creatures fit to have sired the Ufnngton effigy.

From Notes and Queries, August 14, 1943.

“AD946, Edmund wasted Cumbria, and having put out the eyes of the two sons of Dunmail, gave that province to King Malcolm, King of Scotland. Dun-mel-wrays is supposed to have been erected in memory of it or a boundary of Dunmails kingdom.”

The Gentleman’s Magazine Library Compendium 1731-1868

THE GODSTONE, FORNBY.—In the churchyard of Saint Luke, Formby—a village on the Lancashire coast between the Mersey and the Ribble—is to be seen an ancient stone, bearing on it an incised cross on a Calvary of three steps surmounted by an orb. Until recently Roman Catholics were buried here, and the coffins carried three times round this stone, presumably (as in other instances) following the way of the sun. The custom may be very ancient, and indeed a pagan survival. Roman Catholics, moreover, in visiting the churchyard, used to kneel down and pray before this stone. The church has been rebuilt, but was of Norman or pro-Norman foundation. The font is remarkable, polygonal in plan, with twentythree sides. HENRY TAYLOR.,
Birklands, Birkdale, Lancashire.

From N+Q, MArch 7th, 1908. Do I detect a hint of ‘Those wacky Roman Catholics!!’ in his attitude? Perhaps. But it doesn’t shed any more light on the stone’s mysterious roots. He doesn’t seem aware of it being moved into the churchyard (supposedly only 30 years before, according to Jimmyd’s notes) – in any case quite a weird thing to do with an allegedly pagan stone. You think you’d sooner be moving such things out of churchyards.

Well here’s some weirdness which would certainly have caught the eye and imagination of anyone who could have seen it in prehistory, if that’s possible (bear with the first bit, without it the second makes no sense).

To the Editor of the Staffordshire Advertiser.

“Sir,—The extraordinary explosions that issue from a cleft in a rock near Wetton (an account of which lately appeared in the ‘Reliquary’) are a circumstance extremely puzzling ; so much so that a satisfactory solution appears almost hopeless. The attempt by your correspondent that appeared lately in your valuable paper is certainly very ingenious, and to many may appear a satisfactory one. But residing, as I do, in the immediate vicinity, I am well acquainted with the district and with circumstances that set aside the mere possibility of the reports being caused by pent-up atmospheric air upon the accession of a flood filling the subterranean course.

During the present hot and dry summer a river(except to Darfur bridge, a little below Wetton mill) has had no existence, yet loud explosions were heard by several persons on the 25th of June, and as well attested as any of the previous ones. Besides, no flood, however great and sudden, could produce an explosion or expulsion of air from the fissure in the rock, which is sixty or seventy yards or more above the bed of the river. The subterranean course throughout is directly beneath the upper or surface one, and, owing to the dislocations of the strati, numerous communications exist betwixt them. Not many of these holes or clefts can be seen on walking along the dry bed, owing to their being covered by blocks of limestone, bouldered grit, stones, and pebbles.

Whilst we were clearing out Thor’s Cave, which overlooks the bed of the river, a heavy thunderstorm, in the distance, suddenly filled the subterranean passage with water, which also flowed down the previously dry bed at the surface, when I witnessed a novel and pretty sight—numerous small jets of water forced up by pent-up air, which indicated tbe progress of infilling in the underground channel.

Noiselessly the puny fountains continued to advance, and the water from below to rise and mingle with the stream above. It is evident, when the communications are so free and requent, that other causes than pent-up air originate the loud reports that issue from the fissure in the rock. With respect to the flames said to be seen after the reports, we have the united testimony of three men, two of whom were certainly highly terrified at the time, but they still positively adhere to their first relation.
The third person was a cool spectator, who went purposely to a neighbouring eminence, and as near as he durst venture, to witness the occurrence.

It has been suggested that large cavities, connected by strait and intricate passages, may exist, where falls of rock take place occasionally, and that cherty fragments, by producing sparks, would ignite hydrogen gas. However scientific individuals may differ in their attempt to explain the cause, the fact that explosions do occur is too notorious to be ignored, although nothing similar in nature has been recorded.—Yours, &c,
” SAMUEL CARRINGTON.”
“Wetton, Aug. 10th, 1870.”

The jets of water sound truly strange. And you can’t help wondering whether that’s why the cave is ‘Thor’s Cave’ – Thor had a hammer and was responsible for lightning (hence the explosions and the flames?). Yep it’s another of my speculations but I like it. Yeah I know – it’s more likely to do with Thyrs / Thurs cave, and linking back to Hobthrush...

(An unrelated but bizarre fact is that ‘The Verve’ filmed one of their videos here, apparently.)

.. the Scots at Largs, in 1263, might have combated the Norwegians under the protection of Saint Margaret, and hence, possibly, the origin of the name Margarets-Law, given to the large cairn near Haily House,—given evidently in comparatively modern times, and that by a local population, under a mistaken belief, which yet continues, that the Norwegian dead (those who fell through the agency of St. Margaret) were interred within it.

In Notes and Queries, July 5th 1873. It all sounds a bit confused, especially when you see that there are a number of Margarets around in history c. the battle at Largs, on both sides.

Two pieces of stone-related folklore at Dull, with all its cupmarks, standing stones, stone circles and enclosures.

When Cuthbert was living at a town in Scotland called Dul, he retired to lead a solitary life on the top of a mountain called Doilweme, which was haunted by the devil. As there was no water, he brought a spring from the rock, which is a medicinal well to the present day.. He checked its flow by putting a stone over it, and anyone who draws water there must replace the stone quickly, or it would overflow the whole countryside.

Whil Cuthbert lived there the Devil was continually annoying him. Cuthbert erected a great stone cross on the top of the mountain, which could only be approached by a staircase. He built himself an oratory and hewed out a bath in the rock, in which he used to spend the night praying in the freezing water. The Devil in mockery made another huge bath near it. At last St. Cuthbert could bear the Devil no longer, and drove him out of the mountain with a great staff like a fuller’s stake. The cliff down which the Devil rushed can still be seen, and also the footprints of the Saint, which are of normal size, and those of the Devil, which are monstrous and deformed. When the lame place their feet in the footprints of Cuthbert they are healed.

After St. Cuthbert left that place it was a sanctuary which no one dare violate, but no women might go there. A Nobleman of Scotland, Madet Maccrie Mor, that is, son of Mor, who had committed a crime punishable by death, in the reign of King David fled there and remained there in safety. But when he brought his wife and daughters there, he fell from the top of the steps and broke his hip so badly that it could not be healed. He took the women away, and none ever dared to come there again.

Taken from ‘The Irish Life of St Cuthbert’ and submitted to Notes and Queries, Dec 19th 1925.

I’m a bit disappointed in Cuddy in this instance. So he’ll ignore a man who had ‘committed a crime punishable by death’ but as soon as some women turn up there’s hell to pay?? Honestly.

Despite extreme ignorance of Irish sites I’ve figured out this refers to somewhere in Laois: perhaps Fourwinds or someone else knowledgeable can pin the location down (if the latter large stone is truly prehistoric).

ST. M’LOO’S STONE.—In the district of Ryle in the Queen’s County in Ireland there exist a grave, a trough, and a stone with which the name of St. M’Loo is connected. His grave and his trough are in a small old burial-ground, in the middle of which stands a ruin, apparently of a chapel, but there seems to be no tradition connecting the name of the saint with this ruin.

The grave is 11 ft. long, and faces differently from the graves around. On the assumption that St. M’Loo was the priest, two explanations of this are given in the locality—the one that the priest may more easily stand in front of his flock to present them on the Resurrection Day ; the other, that he may occupy the most conspicuous place to bear the Divine indignation should he have proved unfaithful to his trust.
St. M’Loo’s grave is at one end of the burialground, and his trough at the other. The trough is of hewn stone, 2 ft. long by 1 ft. broad, and is overshadowed by a small white-thorn tree. Many resort to this trough to be cured by its holy water of their various diseases, and every one who comes attaches a piece of rag to the little tree. The trough is never empty, and is said to be miraculously filled. Interments still take place in Ryle graveyard, and often at Roman Catholic funerals, when the body has been laid in the grave, all the mourners gather round the trough and pray there.

St. M’Loo’s stone lies in the middle of a field opposite to the burial-ground, from which it is separated by the high road. Tradition states that the saint knelt so often upon the stone to weep and pray that he wore five holes in its surface —two by his knees, one by his clasped hands, and two by his tears. The holes worn by his tears are on the right side of the stone. The circumference of the stone is 15 ft. 11 in., its length 5 ft. 7 in., its breadth 4 ft., and its depth 3 ft. There are on the sides traces of what appear to have been cup and ring marks. The usual unwillingness to disturb such relics prevails, and the people believe that a blight would fall upon any one who ventured upon such desecration. Who, then, was St. M’Loo ? W.

It could read ‘McLoo’ throughout. From Notes and Queries, June 10, 1882.

Mr. Lang, in his article on the’ Cup and Ring,’* mentions how in Argyll a woman who desires to have a baby will slide down a cup-marked {i.e., an inscribed) rock, and adds that the sliding is attested by a chief of Clan Diarmid... J. H. RIVETT-CARNAC. Schloss Wildeck, Switzerland.

From Notes and Queries, April 27th, 1901.

*I believe this refers to the 1899 article in the ‘Contemporary Review’.

In the.. township of Saddleworth, near the romantically situated village of Greenfield, there is a wellknown Druidical remain, said to have been an altar-stone, where appeared to a man who died only a few years ago “Raura Peena,” the last” fairee ” (fairy) seen in the ” parish ” of Saddleworth. A short distance away are the “Fairy Holes,” a couple of subterraneous caves into the inmost recesses of which she tried to allure him.

I imagine this would be the Druidical remain to which the correspondent referred. From Notes and Queries, February 5th, 1870.

.. from a ’ Glossary of Yorkshire Words and Phrases’..

Claymore Well, near Kettleness, on the coast, was a noted spot where the fairies washed their clothes and beat and bleached them, for on their washing-nights the strokes of their bittles or battledores were heard as far as Runswick.

From Notes and Queries, Jan 4th, 1896. Butter Howe must be in the vicinity of this well – a house called Claymore is less than half a mile away. You’d imagine the Howe was where the fairies lived. A similarly short distance away was where a helpful hob lived. His cliff caves are marked on the OS map. The ‘Northern Echo’ describes his folklore:

“When a child was suffering from whooping cough, the mother would carry the patient down to the beach and walk along to the mouth of the hob’s cave. There she would halt and call out these words: ‘Hob Hole Hob? My bairn’s gitten t’kink cough. Tak it off, tak it off.’”
archive.thisisthenortheast.co.uk/2001/10/26/155896.html

According to N&Q for November 6th 1852, “The fishermen of the neighbourhood still regard the place with superstitious dread, and are unwilling to pass it by night.”

There is a long mound in a part of my parish which is popularly called the “Giant’s Grave,” and very near it two large stones, which have probably rolled down from the beds of chert-like rock on the side or the chalk-hill above. I discovered lately that there is a popular tradition existing, though my informant somewhat doubted its correctness, that these stones move whenever they hear the cocks crow in Chesilborne, a neighbouring village.

C. W BINGHAM

From Notes and Queries, Jan. 6th, 1866.

Mr. P. H. Gosse, in his interesting work, Tenby: a Sea-side Holiday, 1856, p. 80, informs us that” the people talk a good deal of a curious cavern called Hoyle’s Mouth, about which they have some strange notions. It opens at the end of a long lime-stone hill, or range of hills, about a mile inland; and the popular legend is, that it is the termination of a natural subterranean chasm which communicates with the great cave called, the Hogan, under Pembroke Castle, some eight miles distant.

It was once traversed, they say, by a dog, which, entering at one end, emerged from the other, with all his hair rubbed off! A gentleman is said to have penetrated to a considerable distance, and found ’ fine rooms.’ But the vulgar are very averse to exploring even its mouth, on the ostensible ground that a boar,’ a wild pig,’ dwells there; I fear, however, that there are more unsubstantial terrors in the case. I walked out to look at it; and if I found no dragons, nor giants, nor pigs, I enjoyed a most delightful rural walk.”

From Notes and Queries, October 12, 1861.

In the valley below the two hillforts in Drumelzier is supposed to be the site of Merlin’s grave. RCAHMS puts it at NT13413453 (this is the hillfort side of the river), where Burnfoot Pool is marked. RCAHMS says:

“According to legend which is at least as old as the 15th century, the wizard Merlin was buried 200 yds NNW of Drumelzier Church, on the level haugh close to the right bank of the River Tweed. No structural remains are now to be seen, or have ever been recorded, at the place in question, but it is possible that the tradition may have been originated from the discovery of a Bronze Age cist.
RCAHMS 1967, visited 1956.

There is nothing to be seen at this site which lies in a field. The tradition still survives.
Visited by OS(IA) 11 August 1972.”

No doubt while there’s Merlin postcards to be sold, the tradition still survives. I also found this slightly confusing piece in ‘Notes and Queries’ for May 23rd, 1942:

Nearly fourteen hundred years ago Merlin (Myrddin Wyllt). the bard and prophet of the Strathclyde Britons, withdrew himself from an uncongenial world after the collapse of paganism at the battle of Ardderyd. The gateway “through which he departed was a whitethorn in full bloom at Drummelzier on the right bank of the Upper Tweed. We are able to fix the date of his disappearance satisfactorily, since the battle is recorded as having been fought in the year 575. A still-living tradition which I met with last year says that while Merlin lay entranced under the tree the spiders (fairies? or their emissaries?) gathered from all sides and bound him in their threads, so that he vanished from human eyes into the land of Faerie. But his spirit can still” be invoked and consulted at ” Merlin’s Thorn “—which must be a descendant of the original tree.

Something else on the confluence of rivers and Merlin’s Grave at Drumelzier:

The rivulet of Powsail falls into the Tween a little below a small eminence called Merlin’s Grave, near Drumelzier. Whether the prophet or wizard Merlin was buried here or not, Dr Penicuik, who notices both the grave and the rhyme, cannot certify. The following popular version of the rhyme [of Thomas the Rhymer?] is better than that which he has printed, and, I fear, improved:-

When Tweed and Powsail meet at Merlin’s grave
Scotland and England that day ae king shall have.

Accordingly, it is said that, on the day of King James’s coronation as monarch of Great Britain, there was such a flood in both the Tweed and the Powsail, that their waters met at Merlin’s Grave. An ingenious friend remarks, though I cannot entirely go along with him, that the lines might be originally intended to attest the improbability of the two hostile kingdoms ever being united under one sovereign and as a means of keeping alive, at least in Scotland, the spirit of disunion. It will appear to modern scepticism that the rhyme was made after the event.

p29 of ‘Select Writings of Robert Chambers’ 1847. Online at Google Books.

In Cornwall, Madron Well near Penzance had till recently—probably still has—a large thorn-tree growing against the wall of the baptistry which encloses the well. Young children suffering from skin-complaints are dipped in the well and carried round it three times, after which rags from their clothing are laid beside the streamlet and hung on the tree. This should be done about the beginning of May—the first Sunday if possible.

From Notes and Queries, May 23, 1942.

.. the Hill of Dun-o-Deer, in the parish of Insch: a conical hill of no great elevation, on the top of which stand the remains of a vitrified fort or castle, said to have been built by King Gregory about the year 880, and was used by that monarch as a hunting-seat; and where, combining business with pleasure, he is said to have meted out evenhanded justice to his subjects in the Garioch.

It has long been the popular belief that this hill contains gold; and that the teeth of sheep fed on it assume a yellow tinge, and also that their fat is of the same colour. Notwithstanding this, no attempt at scientific investigation has ever been made.
Abredonensis.

From Notes and Queries, September 24th, 1853.

The New Statistical Account says “.. only one wall [of the tower] remains entire, and this having but two windows, one above the oteher, and the upper one very much enlarged by the crumbling of its sides, has a curious effect seen at a distance, and is known by the name of “Gregory’s wall,” from a tradition that King Gregory had resided here.”

The Orkneys had sea-trows and hilltrows. All natural phenomena were regarded as the work of these supernatural agents, to whom worship was offered. A remarkable monument of this worship still remains on the hills of Hoy, the most mountainous of the islands. It is known as the Dwarfie Stone, and consists of a large detached block of sandstone, seven feet in height, twentytwo feet long, and seventeen feet broad. The upper end has been hollowed out by the hands of devotees into a sort of apartment, containing two beds of stone, with a passage between them.

The upper, or longer bed, is 5 ft. 5 in. long by 2 ft. broad, and intended for the dwarf. The lower couch is shorter, and rounded off, instead of being squared, at the corners ; it is intended for the dwarfs wife.

There is an entrance of about three feet and a half square, and a stone lies before it, calculated to fit the opening. Not satisfied with having provided such a solid habitation for the genius loci and his helpmate, the islanders were still in the habit, at no very distant period, of carrying propitiatory gifts to this fetich.

From Notes and Queries, Jan 26th, 1884.

A story about the giant of Bennachie and (presumably) Mither Tap, and that of Tap O’Noth- does anyone know the story?):

It is said that long ” before King Robert rang,” two giants inhabited these mountains, and are supposed to be the respective heroes of the two ballads [” John O’Benachie ;” and another, ” John O’Rhynie, or Jock O’Noth]

These two sons of Anak appear to have lived on pretty friendly terms, and to have enjoyed a social crack together, each at his own residence, although distant some ten or twelve miles. These worthies had another amusement, that of throwing stones at each other; not small pebbles you may believe, but large boulders. On one occasion, however, there appears to have been a coolness between them; for one morning, as he of Noth was returning from a foraging excursion in the district of Buchan, his friend of Benachie, not relishing what he considered an intrusion on his legitimate beat, took up a large stone and threw at him as he was passing.

Noth, on hearing it rebounding, coolly turned round; and putting himself in a posture of defence, received the ponderous mass on the sole of his foot: and I believe that the stone, with a deeply indented foot-mark on it, is, like the bricks in Jack Cade’s chimney, ” alive at this day to testify.”

In Notes and Queries, Volume s1-VIII, Number 204, 1853.

The position of this hill is described in Murray’s ‘Handbook for Kent’ as being immediately above the station (Chilham) on the right. The compilers of this work and of Black’s ’ Guide’ offer the suggestion that this is a corruption of “Julian’s Bower,” a common name given to an area devoted to Roman popular games.

The generally accepted tradition, however, is that it marks the grave of one of Julius Caesar’s generals, Laberius Durus; and the story is well told by Philipott in his ‘Villare Cantianum,’ 1659, p. 117 :—

” There is a place in this Parish [Chilham] on the South-side of the River stretched out on a long green Hill, which the Common People (who bear the greatest sway in the corrupting of Names) call Jelliberies Grave. The Historie itself will evidence the original of this denomination.

It was about this place that Julius Caesar respited his farther remove or advance into the bowels of this Island, upon intelligence received that his Fleet riding in the road at Lymen not far distant, had been much afflicted and shattered by a Tempest; whereupon he returned, and left his Army for ten dayes, encamped upon the brow of this Hill, till he had new careen’d and rigged his Navy; but in his march from hence was so vigoriously [sic] encountered by the Britons that he lost with many others Leberius Durus, Tribune and Marshal of the Field, whose Obsequies being performed with solemnities answerable to the eminence of his Place, and Command, each Souldier as was then Customary, bringing a certain quantity of earth to improve his plane of Sepulture into more note than ordinarie, caused it so much to exceed the proportion of others elsewhere ; and from hence it assumed the name of Julaber, whom other vulgar heads, ignorant of the truth of the story, have fancied to have been a Giant, and others of them have dreamed to have been some Enchanter or Witch.”

From ‘Notes and Queries’ May 19th, 1900.

“JULLABER” —Jullaber is near Chilham, about six miles south-west of Canterbury. There are two references to the place in Camden. Camden himself thus explains the name:—

“Below this town [Julham] is a green barrow, said to be the burying-place of one Jul Laber many years since; who some will tell you was a Giant, others a Witch. For my own part, imagining all along that there might be something of real Antiquity coach’d under that name, I am almost persuaded that Laberius Durus the Tribune, slain by the Britains in their march from the camp we spoke of, was buried here; and that from him the Barrow was called Jul-laber.”

C. C. B.

From Notes and Queries, May 19, 1900.

This proverb is apparently found in Fuller’s Worthies of England (1662):

“When Firle Hill and Long Man has a cap
We at A’ston gets a drap.”

(I found it mentioned in Notes and Queries for May 3rd 1884)

A LOCAL TRADITION OF THE GOG-MAGOG HILLS.—About five miles south-east of the town of Cambridge, and in the county of the same name, are situated the Gog-Magog Hills. They are an offshoot of a range of chalk hills, known as the East Anglian heights, which run through that part of the country. Many barrows are found in the locality, which are supposed to be of early British origin. Here, too, stood the camp of Vandlebury, or Wandlebury, likewise of British construction. Like other places that boast of remote antiquity, it has its legends and traditions.

One tradition, relative to the origin of these hills (which I heard from an elderly man living in the neighbourhood), may be worth recording in the pages of ” N. & Q.,” especially as I have never seen or heard of it being anywhere in print. It asserts that previous to the formation of these hills (Which are three in number), and near to the same spot, was a very large cave, which was inhabited by a giant and hia wife (a giantess) of extraordinary stature, whose names were Gog and Magog. They did not live very happily together, for scarcely a day passed by without a quarrel between them. On one occasion the giantess so outraged the giant, that he swore he would destroy her life. She instantly fled from the cave ; he quickly pursued her ; but she running faster than her husband, he could not overtake her. Gog, in his anger, stooped down, took up a handful of earth and threw at her ; it missed her, but where it fell it raised a hill, which is seen to the present day. Again the enraged giant threw earth at his wife, but again it missed her ; where it fell it was the cause of the second hill. Magog still kept up her pace; but again the giant, in his rage, threw more earth at his wife ; but this time it completely buried her alive, and where she fell is marked by the highest hill of the three. So runs, the local tradition respecting the origin of the
Gog-Magog Hills.

H. C. LOFTS.

From Notes and Queries, December 26th, 1874.

You’d imagine (looking at the map) that at least one of the hills with barrows on must be the hills referred to in the story – and of course one of them must be where Wandlebury is itself?

A SONG OF A CORNISH GIANT.—When my wife and I were at Fowey, in 1904, we stayed at the house of Mrs. West, {..} During some conversation about Cornish songs, Mrs. West informed us that there was one particular song that her brother used to sing, in which she thought we might be interested. Acting, gladly enough, on this suggestion, we arranged with Mrs. West for her brother to pay us a visit, and after he had sung it we asked and received permission to commit it to writing. {..} It was called by the name of The Old Cornishman.

In Cornwall there once lived a man,
Though his home I won’t vouch for the truth, Sir
But if I am not misinformed.
He didn’t live far from Redruth, Sir.
His name was Powicky Powick
Powicky Powicky Powido;
His mouth was so monstrously big,
It was near upon half a mile wide o
Tol de rol etc.

I suppose you have heard of Roach Rock.
Why, with his little finger he’d rock it.
And as for St. Michael his Mount
He could put it in his waistcoat pocket.
One day he fell down in a fit,
And his nose stuck so deep in the ground, Sir,
It made such an uncommon pit
That it’s what is [now] calld Dolcoth mine, Sir!
Tol de rol etc.

One day he went down to Penzance
Of provisions to get a fresh stock. Sir,
And if I am not misinformed
He must have passed great Logan Rock, Sir,
Says he, I’ll let Cornish folk know
[That] this rock shall not long here abide, Sir,
[So] he tried it to swallow—but oh!
It stuck in his throat and he died, Sir.
Tol de rol, etc.

Now in Cornwall they built a large ship
All out of England to carry him.
In the water they just let him slip—
And that is the way they did bury him.
His head stuck so high above sea,
Trees and grass grew there just as on dry land,
And for what Cornish folk have told me
That is what’s called the Great Scilly Island.
Tol de rol, etc.

Here’s success to tin, copper, and fish,
And may all his enemies fall, Sir!
Here’s success to tin, copper and fish
And success unto one and to all. Sir.

W. W. SKEAT.
Lyme Regis.

From Notes and Queries, October 7th, 1939.

Five or six years ago I was told by an elderly dame at Cerne Abbas (Dorset) that her mother had told her, in her young days, that it was customary, in her own youth, to ” hold junkettings ” on the Giant: and that it was well known that if a girl slept on the Giant, she would have a large family.

The ” junkettings ” were almost certainly the well-known May-pole festivities held in the Trundle, on the top of the hill, above the Giant. The latter part of the elderly dame’s statement is not, I think, so well known. But it points to folk-memory of the fertility cult, with which the Giant seems so obviously to be connected.

K. T.

From Notes and Queries, September 13th 1930.