There’s another legendary stone at the church (it seems one is not enough)? It’s the lintel above the Priest’s Door.
Owen usually attended divine service at Corwen Church, where I was shown a doorway now made up through which he entered to his pew in the chancel. Upon one of the stones is cut, half an inch deep, the figure of a dagger, and my guide told me, with a face more serious than my own, “that upon the Berwyn mountain, behind the Church, was a place called Glyndwr’s seat, from which he threw his dagger, and made the impression upon the stone.” If this had happened in our day, the whole bench of bishops would have united in pronouncing him Jacobin. Exclusive of the improbability of the tale, my friend forgot that it refutes itself, for the mark of the dagger is upon the very door-way which Owen passed, which probably was not built up in his day. I climbed the mountain to what is called Owain’s seat, among the rocks, and concluded he must have been more agreeably employed than in throwing his dagger, for the prospect is most charming. Here the rich and delightful vale of Corwen expands to view, with the Dee in the centre. Here Owen might view near forty square miles of his own land.
Hutton’s ‘Remarks upon North Wales’ (1803).