Rhiannon

The fort up here is only one of a variety of things you can point to around Dufftown to illustrate the undoubtedly true tale that follows. The writer was clearly very proud of his local legend.

Battle of Mortlach:-- In the year 1010, Malcolm II. obtained, in this parish, that signal victory over the Danes, which has ever since given the place a superior degree of fame, and makes it respected as classic ground. Human nature is inclined to regard, with a peculiar reverence, the very spot of earth on which was of old transacted any remarkable event.

Malcolm had been beat the year before by the Danes, and was obliged to leave them in possession of the lands of Moray. Anxious, however, to expel such intruders, he now returns upon them from the south, with a powerful force; and the Danes, having intelligence of his motions, came forward to give him battle.

It’s excitingly written but rather lengthy – you can read it here in the 1796 statistical account.
stat-acc-scot.edina.ac.uk/link/1791-99/Banff/Mortlach/17/442/
Essentially three of the Scottish generals get themselves killed in their enthusiasm, and the home side fears that the game’s up. But the sensible King pops over to the church and has a quick pray. This perks him up and after a rousing speech to the army he ‘throws Enetus, one of the Danish generals, from his horse, and kills him with his own hand.’ After this the Scots rally and see off the Danes. There’s the cunning idea that the river could have been dammed to flood the Danish while they slept, but the author can’t quite fit that into the story convincingly, so attributes it to another occasion.

As traditional and pretty sure memorials of this famous battle, are pointed out;
1. The vestiges of an intrenchment, very distinct at this day, on the summit of the little Conval-hill, called by the neighbourhood the Danish Camp.
2. A number of tumuli, or cairns, supposed to have been collected over the bodies of the fallen.
3. A huge and irregularly roundish stone, formerly, it is said, on the grave of Enetus, but now rolled a few ells from its station over the corpse, and made a part of a fence about a field of corn; where it is denominated the Aquavitae Stone. To account for this appellation, and to prevent antiquarians from puzzling their brains with dark and learned hypotheses in time to come, it may not be improper to tell, that the men, whose brawny strength removed this venerable tenant, finding it rather a hard piece of work, got, as a solace for their toil, a pint of whisky, out of which, immediately, around the stone, they took a hearty dram. Every body knows, that, in Scotland, whisky and aquavitae are the same.

There are numerous other ‘proofs’ as well, including (possibly) a gold torc.
The stone, according to the RCAHMS record, was broken up c1860, and before being moved was originally at NJ32314072.

A ditch extends all along the top of the Malvern Range, which is said to have been constructed by Gilbert de Clare, the (red) Earl of Gloucester, who married Joan of Acre, daughter of Edward the 1st. The Earl resided at Hanley Castle and received the right of Malvern Chase as his wife’s dower, so, wishing to separate this from the lands of the Bishop of Hereford, he constructed a ditch. It is hardly possible that a ditch alone without a fence or pallisading could keep deer and other game from straying. He swore his usual oath, “By the Splendour of God, if I catch any man trespassing upon my manor I will cut off his hands.”

What an unutterable prat. This is from ‘Camps on the Malvern Hills’ by F G Hilton Price, in the journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland, v10, 1881. W S Symonds also calls it the ‘Red Earl’s Ditch’ in his ‘Hanley Castle’ novel (see Waum’s Well).

This is from p29 of ‘Hanley Castle’ by W. S. Symonds. It’s a novel, but he says in his preface that he wrote it with the motive of interesting the local inhabitants in local history and traditions, so I imagine the Facts are true.

Bridget now proposed that we should descend the hill to the well of St. Waum, and take a drink of the water, so good for the healing of broken hearts, sore eyes and rheumatism. I laughed at the idea, as we were both strong and healthy, but down the hill we went for the sake of St. Waum’s spell and Bridget’s fancy.

The spring, for well there is none, bubbles forth from a green quaking turf near a narrow inlet of the hills at the corner of the forest which formerly covered a great part of the country between Hereford and the Malverns. Even now it is closely hidden by thickets of eglantine, hawthorn and hazel, and the path was so fully over-grown with trailing plants that we had charge boldly to get through at all.

He calls the cave above ‘the Cave of Glendower, or Hermit’s Cave’.
archive.org/stream/hanleycastleane00symogoog#page/n48

(I visited a spring today myself, and am covered in the nettle stings to prove it).

I looked up ‘waum’ and it rather despatches the idea of a christian saint. The OED says it meant in Old English, ‘a gushing forth or upwelling of water, a spring, or the water of such’ and also ‘the bubbling and heaving of water etc. in the process of boiling’. Interesting!

I also found this nearby stoney folklore. Clutter’s cave is the same cave mentioned above.

In a ravine to the south-east of the Beacon Camp and a little below Clutter’s Cave, against the roots of an old crab tree, lies a huge block of syenite. This stone is called the “Divination” Stone, and has been described in ancient manuscripts as the show stone, suggesting that at one time singular religious rites were performed upon it.

The exact dimensions of the stone I did not take, but simply measured the part that bore the appearance of having been hollowed out by man. The hollow portion of the stone faces south and is 4 feet wide from east to west, and 3 1/2 feet from north to south; the centre of the depression is 4 inches in depth.

A little beyond is a British trackway still visible in places, leading from the top of the hill, to an old spring called “Waums” Well.

From ‘Camps on the Malvern Hills’ by F G Hilton Price, in the journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland, v10, 1881.

That of old, all those of any publict spirit in the parioch specially the gentlemen conveened upon St. Stephens day if lawfull, and failzeing thereof the next lawfull day at the Knock of Alves, with their best horse and armes, and ran there races westward two miles and 1/2 of distance ending at the Kairne of Kilbuyack.

From ‘Geographical Collections Relating to Scotland made by Walter MacFarlane’ by Sir Arthur Mitchell, v1 (1906). MacFarlane originally published it in 1748.
archive.org/stream/publicationssco06socigoog#page/n29
St Stephen’s day is the 26th December should you wish to recreate the racing. Maybe the cairn is the ruined ‘Moray Cairn’ at NJ 1106 6147?

This is going to be a long story, for which I apologise, but I’ve not seen it reproduced elsewhere. It is (I think) from Walter de Mapes’ / Walter Map’s writings. He died in about the year 1200. His main work is ‘De Nugis Curialium’ so I am assuming this is taken from there (but I’ve not been able to find another English translation). However the list on Wikipedia that describes its contents doesn’t really have anything that looks relevant. It’s got lots of weird stuff (phantom animals, the wild hunt, vampires, a Northumberland ghost story) but not Stonehenge. So I’m a bit bemused for the moment. Anyway it makes a change from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s (also 12th century) version.The following quote, wherever it originally comes from and whoever translated it, is taken from ‘The Beauties of England and Wales’ by John Britton (v15, 1814), p365. books.google.co.uk/books?id=pi1JAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA365

After Emrys (ie Ambrosius) had tranquillized every place, he made a journey to Salisbury (ie Sarum) to behold the graves of those whom Hengistyr had caused to be slain of the British. At that time three hundred monks formed a community in the monastery of Ambri Mount; for so it was called, because it was founded by a person named Ambri. And Emrys was grieved to see that spot devoid of every mark of honour; so he summoned to him all the stone-masons and carpenters in Britain, to erect a trophy which whould be an eternal memorial around that sepulture. But after they had assembled together their ingenuity failed them;

thereupon Tramor, Archbishop of Caer-Llion, drew near, and thus spoke to Emrys: ‘My Lord cause thou to come before thee Merdin (Merlin) the bard of Gortheyrn, for he is able to invent a wonderful structure, through his skill, to be of eternal duration.‘

So Merdin was brought to Emrys; and the king was joyful to see him; and Emrys desired him to foretel the events that were to happen in this island. But Merdin replied: “It is not right to declare those things except when there is a necessity; and were I, on the contrary, to speak of them, the spirit that instructs me would depart, when I should stand in need of it.” Upon that the king would not press him further, but enquired of him how he could invent a fair and lasting work over that spot.

Thereupon Merdin advised a journey to Ireland to the place where stood the Cor-y-Cawri, or the circle of the giants on the mountain of Cilara. For thereon he said, are stones of an extraordinary quality, of which nobody has any knowledge; for they are not to be obtained by might nor by strength, but by art, and were they at this place in the state they are there, they would stand to all eternity.

So Emrys said, laughingly, by what means can they be brought from thence? Merdin replied, laugh not, because I speak only seriousness and truth; those stones are mystical, and capable of producing a variety of cures; they were originally brought thither by giants from the extremities of Spain; and they placed them in their present position. The reason of their bringing them was, that when any of them was attacked by disease, they used to make a fomentation in the midst of the stones, first laving them with water, which they poured into the fomentation; and through that they obtained health from the disease that might affect them, for they put herbs in the fomentation; and those healed their wounds.

When the Britons heard of the virtues of those stones, immediately they set off to bring them. Uthyr Pendragon being commissioned to be their leader, taking 15,000 armed men with him; Merdin also was sent as being the most scientific of his contemporaries. At that time Gillamori reigned in Ireland, who, on hearing of their approach, marched against them with a great army, and demanded the object of their errand. Having learned their business, he laughed, saying, ‘It is no wonder to me that a feeble race of men have been able to ravage the isles of Britain, when its natives are so silly as to provoke the people of Ireland to fight with them about stones.’ Then they fought fiercely, and numbers were slain on both sides, until at length Gillamori gave way, and his men fled.

Then Merdin said, “Exert your utmost skill to carry the stones,” but it availed them not. Merdin then laughed, and without any labour but by the effect of science, he readily brought the stones to the ships. So they then brought them to Mount Ambri.

Then Emrys summoned to him all the chiefs and graduated scholars of the kingdom, in order, through their advice, to adorn that place with a magnificent ornament. Thereupon they put the crown of the kingdom upon his head, celebrated the festival of Whitsuntide for three days successively; rendered to all in the island their respective rights; and supplied his men in a becoming manner with gold, silver, horses and arms.

So when every thing was prepared Emrys desired Merdin to elevate the stones as they were in Cilara; and this he accomplished. Then every body confessed that ingenuity surpassed strength.

As the ancient parochial boundary between Warminster and Corsley passes over the larger hill, it has been for time out of mind customary for a great concourse of people to assemble here on Palm Sunday to defend the boundary, and prevent encroachments.

From ‘The Beauties of England and Wales’ volume 15, by John Britton and others (1814).

... “Cley” has nothing to do with the earth called clay because the hill is entirely of chalk. The name is a mere corruption of an old word, Cleg, which means hill.

Cley Hill had its revel. This was on Palm Sunday, and was probably a relic of the procession which on that day used to be made before the Reformation. It is said this gathering took place in order to keep up the boundaries of two parishes that cross the hill. The custom however led to riot and abuse and was discontinued.

Mentioned similarly in the Warminster and Westbury Journal, 12th August 1882.

Apparently from Howell’s ‘Collection of Proverbs’ from 1659, but quoted in ‘English Proverbs and Proverbial Phrases’ by W C Hazlitt (1907):

Sutton Wall and Kenchester Hill
Are able to buy London, were it to sell.

These are two places fruitful in the country, saith Mr. Howell.

Maybe it’s a misquote and should imply the two places were better than London in the past? as they both have big forts (Kenchester is next to Credenhill Park Wood fort) – rather like the rhymes that tell ‘when [local old place] was a bustling town,
[local big city] was a furzy down’. Maybe, maybe not.

‘Traditionary lines’ from ‘Herefordshire Words and Phrases’ by F T Havergal (1887)
archive.org/details/herefordshirewo00havegoog

Hope under Dinmore, and if Dinmore should fall,
The Devil would have Hope and Dinmore and all.

As long as Helsby hill wears a hood,
The weather’s never very good.

Observational but not particularly useful advice recorded in Holland’s 1886 ‘Glossary of words used in the county of Chester’.

There are two forts here above Llanbedrog, separated by a small valley. Pen-y-Gaer is apparently the more obvious today, according to Coflein. There are lots of springs around this high land, and a path / road lead toward one with particular renown – Ffynnon Bedrog (SH32263226). Coflein calls it a wishing well, but the Reverend Baring Gould knows better.

In Wales [St Petroc] is more especially associated by tradition with Llanbedrog. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was there considered to be “beneficial to offer to Pedrog for gangrenes.” His Holy Well, Ffynnon Bedrog, is on Bryn Du, in the parish. It enjoyed a great reputation formerly, and many traditions linger of the miraculous cures effected by its waters in every conceivable ailment. Some years ago a round vessel of dark stone was found at its bottom full of pins. Thieves could be discovered by it. A bit of bread thrown on its surface by the injured person sank at the mention of the thief’s name among a number of suspected persons.

From p102 of ‘Lives of the British Saints, Vol. 1’ by S Baring-Gould and John Fisher (1907).
archive.org/stream/cu31924092447816#page/n125

[Famed] for her prophetic gifts was the Lady of Lawers (Bantighearna Lathuir), one of the Breadalbane family, married to Campbell of Lawers. Her prophecies relate to the house and lands of Breadalbane, and are written, it is believed, in a book shaped like a barrel, and secured with twelve iron hoops or clasps in the charter room of Taymouth Castle. This book is called ‘The Red Book of Balloch’.

[..] A stone called the ‘Boar Stone’ (Clach an Tuirc), a boulder of some two or three hundred tons in a meadow near Loch Tay, will topple over when a strange heir comes to Taymouth...

From p 276 of ‘Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland’ by John Gregorson Campbell (1900).
archive.org/stream/cu31924029909896#page/n299
A slight overestimate of the weight of the stone I fear.

On the top of a high stone in Scaristavor parks, the raven will drink its fill of men’s blood [..]

This stone is about ten ft. high, and is one of the three fragments into which a larger stone, used by an old woman of former days as a hammer to knock limpets off the rocks (ord bhairneach) was broken. Of the other two, one is in Uigh an du tuath, and one in Tarnsa Islet. At a spot from which these three fragments can be seen, there is hidden an urn of silver and an urn of gold (croggan oir’s cr. airgid). It is easy to find a place whence one can see two, but when about to see the third, one of the first two disappears. Five or six yards make all the difference. A herdsman once found the spot, but when digging for the treasure he happened to see a heifer that had fallen on its back in a stream. He ran to its rescue, and never could find the place again.

From p274 of ‘Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland’ by John Gregorson Campbell (1900).
archive.org/stream/cu31924029909896#page/n297

This stone probably does not have anything to do with this story: you’d imagine you’d want one more horizontal for balancing milk in. But it being (as the RCAHMS record strongly states) ‘one of the most impressive standing stones in Lorn’, it surely has added to the Respect for Stones in the area. The Acharra stone is a hefty 3.7m high with a pointy tip. It’s about a mile from Achadh nan Darach.

The being which attached herself to the farm-house of Achindarroch (Acha-nan-darach, field of oaks) in Glenduror, Appin, Argyleshire, was variously known as the Glaistig and as the Gruagach of Glenduror. She attended to the cattle, and took particular charge of keeping the calves from the cows at night. She followed the house (not the family), and was alive not many years ago. A portion of the milk was poured out for her every evening on a stone called Clach na Glaistig (the Glaistig stone), and once this was neglected by a new tenant, the calves were found next morning with the cows.

Her face was described by those who professed to have seen her, as being like a grey stone overgrown with lichens. A servant girl, going on a dark evening to draw water from a stream flowing past the house, was asked by her fellow-servants if she was not afraid of the Glaistig. In her reply she spoke contemptuously of that being, and on her way to the stream received a slap on the cheek that twisted her head to one side. The following evening, going on the same errand, she got a slap on the other cheek that put her head right.

From p162 of ‘Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland’ by John Gregorson Campbell (1900), where you can read more about this type of creature, associated with various Scottish locations (and generally with similar Gruagach stones for milk).
archive.org/stream/cu31924029909896#page/n185/

Next day came down to the castle of Dunadeer: from its eminent situation on the top of a high circular hill, it is observable at a great distance.

Lessly, bishop of Ross, whose history of Scotland was printed at Rome in the fifteenth century, says that this hill was called Dun d’ore, the Golden Mountain, on account of its abounding with gold; that it was owing to this, that the teeth of the sheep which feed upon it, look as if overlaid with gold; and a large circle of stones on the hill, give a brazen sound.*

And the common people have still a tradition current among them, that persons skilled in magic, by performing certain ceremonies at sun-rise, will see the shrubs assume the appearance of gold, on those parts of the hill that most abound with it. From whence these fables derived their origin must be uncertain: but as to the last, one could easily conceive, how the whole summit of the mount would have a golden hue, when receiving the warm glow of the morning, before the sun-beams reached the plain.

*Lesslaei, Hist. Scotiae, 29. The bishop observes, that tradition said, the great circle of stones had composed the temple of an idol:- it may be superfluous to remark, that more probably the stones were druidical, and the fable of the sound they gave, calculated to inspire votaries with greater awe.

From ‘Antiquities and Scenery of the North of Scotland’ by Charles Cordiner (1780).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=67NCAAAAYAAJ&pg=PT45

A visit was paid to St. Ann’s Well, and its pure waters were very refreshing. Its legend is lost, as is many another, from the much more frequent changes of abode by the agricultural labourers in these days.
Further up in the same field is the Lady Well; and here, said Mr. Lewis, a lady is said to have committed suicide. Nobody goes for its waters as they do to St. Ann’s, but happily the place seems not to be haunted.

In contrast to all the other tales of St Ann’s Well!
From

The visitors [to Woldbury Camp] were soon engaged in examining its embankments, considering the water supply, and taking the height of the summit, where stood that now familiar object, an Ordnance Survey pole. The papers were to be read beneath the yew trees on the large south-western embankment, where “the British Chieftain was buried,” said a resident on the spot.

From

About eight miles north of Aberystwyth is an ancient grave known as Bedd Taliesin. According to a local tradition, Taliesin, Chief Bard of the Island of Britain was buried on this spot. The grave, which is composed of stones, is in the centre of a large heap of earth or mound surrounded by stone circles, and some generations ago bones, and even a human skull, were found in it, which probably were the remains of the great ancient poet.

There is a superstition respecting Bedd Taliesin that should anyone sleep in it for one night, he would the next day become either a poet or an idiot. There is a similar popular belief in connection with Cader Idris, in Merionethshire, where an eminant bard once tried the experiment.

Taliesin’s Grave is in the Parish of Llanfihangel genau’r Glyn, and in the adjoining parish of Llancynfelin there is a village bearing the name of Taliesin; and, according to the ‘Mabinogion,’ the great poet was born somewhere between the Dyvi and Aberystwyth. The people of North Cardiganshire believe to this day that Taliesin was both born and buried in their district. The origin of his birth, which was supposed to be very miraculous, and other legends which cling to the memory of this great man are to be found in the Mabinogion.

from ‘Folk-lore of west and mid-Wales’ by John Ceredig Davies (1911).
archive.org/stream/folkloreofwestmi00daviuoft#page/n7/mode/2up

Mr. Larking has since made some excavations at one of the cromlechs of the parish of Addington, the only result of which was the discovery of some fragments of rude pottery, but they were attended with a circumstance which shows how long the ancient superstitions connected with such monuments have lasted. He had fixed on the site for excavating one afternoon, when the keeper happened accidentally to be present.

Early in the forenoon of the next day, Mr. Larking, with some workmen, proceeded to the spot, and he was rather surprised to find the keeper and an assistant waiting for him with picks and spades, and to see them work with extraordinary vigour and earnestness.

As the day passed on, and nothing but a few bits of pottery turned up, disappointment was visible in the features of the keeper, which became still more apparent when they all quitted their work and prepared for their departure. Before they separated, however, he communicated to my excellent friend the cause which made him work so diligently – in the preceding night he had dreamt that the cromlech contained a large crock of gold, and he was in hopes to be the fortunate discoverer of it!

From the Gentleman’s magazine and historical review, volume 192 (1852).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=Sq3PAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA567

Just to add to greywether’s folklore – not that I’m encouraging vandalism but it won’t work just any hour of the day.

Into it [the Toothie Stane, the large outer portal stone] have been driven at least two dozen nails or screws. Local legend explains these by saying that it used to be the custom for anyone suffering from toothache to seek a cure by driving a nail into the stone at midnight!

I am indebted to Mr S. R. Skilling [for an account] of a rather similar superstition from SW. England, to the effect that an aching tooth could be cured by hammering a nail into the trunk of an oak tree.

The excavation of the chambered cairn at Brackley, Kintyre, Argyle. JG Scott, in PSAS 89 (1955/6).

It was a weird thing entering that cairn that had been so long closed, and it was a cheerful thing to come out and see the people that had gathered, even from this lone district, as soon as they heard that there was really a building and chambers found in the cairn.

It was curious, also, to listen to the superstitions that came out. One woman who lived here, and might therefore be considered an authority, said that she used to see lights upon it in the dark nights. That you may explain as you please; distances are not easily judged of in the dark. One man, who also lived near, and who certainly was intelligent, said he would not enter for the whole estate of Lochnell.

We have often inquired the name of the cairn. The cairn really has had no definite name. Some people have called it Carn Ban or White Cairn, but that is evidently confusing it with the other cairn which we saw over the moss, and which is really whiter. Some people have called it Ossian’s Cairn, but that is not an old name, and even if it had been, we know that it is a common thing to attach this name to anything old. We call it Achnacree Cairn, from the name of the farm on which it stands.

It was a pleasant day for us and all around to find an interest so human and natural arising out of things deep in the ground in this secluded place, adn it makes one wonder whether there be not, in every part of the world, something that might interest us all if we only knew how to look at it.

There’s plenty more detail on the cairn in this book. There’s the interesting detail that on a ledge inside the cairn on the east side “were placed six white pebbles of quartz – four in one part and two a little separate. On the west side were two white pebbles; others of the same kind, but discoloured, were found in the soil.” And more pebbles were found in some urns in the cairn. “The quartz pebbles have been often noticed. Mr. Mapleton has found them often in urns and cists in this county, and in one case near Lochnell and far from quartz rock [..] He found three angular pieces of quartz firmly imbedded in a deep cup made in the rock, and surrounded by rings or circle markings, in the Kilmartin district lately. These markings were covered over with about 15 inches of soil, in which no quartz occured. Dr. Wilson mentions twenty-five urns having been found on the Cathkin hills, each with its face downwards, and a quartz stone under it.”

From ‘Loch Etive and the Sons of Uisnach’ by Robert Angus Smith (1879).
openlibrary.org/books/OL23638293M/Loch_Etive_and_the_sons_of_Uisnach

Many years ago the late Lord Bagot removed the Emlyn Stone from Bedd Emlyn to his residence at Pool Park near Ruthin, the distance being hardly two miles, and the stone not of very large size. The transport, however, took two days, and the waggon did break down for some reason or other; so that the whole transaction was looked on as very mysterious, and confirmatory of the local superstition [that you shouldn’t go moving stones].

Coflein has Bedd Emlyn at the same place as the Bryn Beddau cairns, although it is more of a pit now than a cairn. The stone from the cairn is supposed to be inscribed with ogham, and Coflein says it has been taken to the national museum in Cardiff. I can’t find a picture. But even if it really is later, it must get special approval for being associated with older cairns?

From v III of Archaeologia Cambrensis (1872) ‘Notes On Some South Wales Cromlechs’ by E L Barnwell.

In a field called “Parc y Bigwrn,” and in Pensarn farm, in the same parish [as Gwal y Filiast], are the remains of a cromlech destroyed about sixty years ago. Two of the supporting stones are still erect, and near them lie the remains of the rest of the chamber. One of them, nearest the hedge, is 8 1/2 ft. by 4 1/2 ft., the average thickness being 3 ft. Another was broken, about sixty years ago, into two parts, and one of them removed on a sledge drawn by six horses. All that now remain are six in number, including the part of the broken stone not removed. They vary in dimensions from 7 or 8 ft. to 4 ft. in length. Their average breadth is about 3 1/2 ft.

Our informant (John Jones), a man of more than eighty years of age, has always lived close to the spot. His memory and his character for veracity are equally good, and he remembers the capstone having been shifted from the west bearer; but had been told by his seniors that it had previously been horizontal, and was known as the table. It was subsequently thrown on the ground, where it now remains.

It may be as well to give the old man’s exact words: “Yr oedd chwech ceffyl yn tynu y gareg, ac yr oedd y car llusg yn rhwygo y ffordd. Yr oedd yno tua 10 o ddynion wrth y gorchwyl, ac yr oeddent yn llawn braw pan yn cyffwrdd a’r gareg.” The English of which is: “There were six horses drawing the stone, and the road was rent asunder. About ten men were engaged, and they were full of awe when touching the stone.”

This superstitious dread of disturbing stones of this kind was once almost universal in the Principality as well as in Brittany, and is still felt by many of the country people.

From v III of Archaeologia Cambrensis (1872) ‘Notes On Some South Wales Cromlechs’ by E L Barnwell.

A remarkable tumulus known as the Twmpath, near Colwinston, was thoroughly explored under the direction of Mr. F. G. Price, F.S.A., in 1887. The central portion had been excavated several years previously by the then owner of the property, when nine cinerary urns and their contents were brought to light; but as these were not the sort of treasure he looked for, the work was abandoned.

[.. Price] mentions the tradition of a local battle, the slain of which were said to be buried here.

From a ‘Handbook to Cardiff and the neighbourhood’ from 1920, here.

I happened upon this whilst looking for Menteith-related stories. So it’s not exclusively about this area, but does include it. And I think it’s really nice. It mentions white bulls – those famous ancient beasts of the Tain (or Cattle Raid of Cooley) epic, and maybe the sort whose descendents you can visit at Chillingham. Thoughts of the wild wood I suppose. The original was written in Latin by Hector Boece in his ‘Scotorum Historiae’. But there’s a translation of the 1575 version at this website
philological.bham.ac.uk/boece/

Marching with Argyll and Lennox in the interior lie the districts of Sterling and Menteith, and not far distant a town of this same name of Sterling, together with a very stout castle formerly named Mons Dolorosus. Once upon a time the Caledonian forest began here, and the old names Callendar and Caldar still remain. It ran in a long expanse through Menteith and Stratherne as far as Athol and Lochaber.

This forest is wont to produce very white bulls that have lion-like manes but otherwise resemble domesticated ones, but they are so wild and untamed that they avoid contact with men, and if they sense that some plant or tree has been touched by human hand, they shun it for several days thereafter. If they are captured by some trick (a very difficult thing to do), they soon die of sorrow. And when they see they are being attacked, they charge whomever they encounter and lay him low, having no fear of dogs, javelins, nor any kind of steel.

They say that Robert Bruce, having gained the throne and pacified his kingdom, hunted here for his recreation and came close to destruction. For when he was wandering about wherever his fancy took him, carefree and unescorted, he was confronted by a bull of this kind that had been wounded by a hunting-dart. Driven to a frenzy, it confronted Robert and threatened him with imminent death, and the king had no way of avoiding the danger. While all his company saw this and were standing stock-still in amazement, one present-minded man, willing to sacrifice his life for the king’s sake, took the bull by the horns with might and main, and not only stopped it in its tracks, but very courageously wrestled it to the ground without suffering any harm himself.

Then the bull was slain by the spears of those who came a-running, and this averted the king’s impending death. As a reward for saving his life, the king handsomely rewarded the fellow by conferring on him the name of Turnbull. Families of this name, possessed of no small degree of nobility, still exist, and that king is said to have been the first to give them this name and distinction.

The meat of this animal is delightful to eat and our nobility is particularly fond of it, although it does have gristle. But the gaming that used to be found in all that forest are now to be seen only in that part which is called Cumbernauld, having been hunted to extinction elsewhere to appease Man’s gluttony.

Almost straight north from the Wallace Stones, on the lower northern slope of the Ochils stands the Whittieston Stone. It is in a field on the south side of the road from Dunblane to Greenloaning and just in front of the farm-house of Upper Whittieston. A tall slab of Highland grit (fine micaceous) [..] on the east side it is marked with one large and seven smaller cups. [..]

Its only legend is of quite recent date. In the district the stone is known as the Macgregor Stone, and the tradition accounting for the name is to the effect that here a countryman was sacrificed by the followers of Rob Roy, when forming for the engagement on Sheriffmuir, in order to satisfy the ancient highland superstition that first-blood was an infallible omen of success. [..] It occurs to me however, to suggest that the stone may have taken its present name simply enough from the Macgregors of Balhaldies on whose lands it stood.

From the transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society 1892-3, in an article by A F Hutchison, about ‘The Standing Stones of the District’.

The Gathering Stone on the Field of Sheriffmoor.

This Battle Stone (as it is locally called) is a block of fine Highland grit, travelled possibly from Balquhidder. In 1840 it was enclosed by an iron grating, which bears the following inscription:--

“The Gathering Stone of the Highland army on the day of the memorable battle of Sheriffmuir, fought in November, 1715. This grating has been erected to preserve the stone by John Stirling, Esq. of Kippendavie, Principal Heritor in the parish of Dunblane.”

I have been told that this battle stone used formerly to be known as the Beltane Stane. If that is the case, it has probably a much older interest than the battle of Sheriffmoor. It certainly has the appearance, so far as it can now be seen, of an overthrown standing stone.

I can’t help thinking John Stirling Esq. was a bit misguided. Couldn’t he have stood it upright instead? But that Stone has seen long ages and one day that cage is going to rust to nothing. It looks cruel. It looks like one of those cages they put over graves to stop bodysnatchers.

From the transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society 1892-3, in an article by A F Hutchison, about ‘The Standing Stones of the District’.

In the grounds of Randolphfield, in front of the house, are two stones standing in a line from S.W. to N.E. [..] The south-west stone stands 4 ft. above ground. The portion underground measures 2 ft. 5 in. [..] Both stones are pillars of dolerite, of the same material as the pillar stones of the Castle rock, from which place they have apparently been brought. The larger stone shows some marks on it, which have been supposed to be artificial. They are, however, merely the natural joints characteristic of these blocks, such as may be seen on their fellows at the Back Walk.

The local tradition as to the origin and meaning of these stones is well-known. It is thus stated by Nimmo in his History of Stirlingshire, p84 (first edition, 1777):--
“Two stones stand to this day in the field near Stirling, where Randolph, Earl of Murray, and Lord Clifford, the English general, had a sharp rencounter, the evening before the great battle of Bannockburn.”.

From the transactions of the Stirling Natural History and Archaeological Society 1892-3, in an article by A F Hutchison, about ‘The Standing Stones of the District’.

This is a hefty (but sadly fallen) stone – the RCAHMS record says it is 4m long x 1.4m x 0.5m. It has understandably been known as the ‘Great Stane of Pendreigh’. It was (supposedly) placed here as a monument to Wallace’s victories – see the folklore of the Seven Stanes at Wester Biggs.

I’m not sure if the following story also refers to it.
archive.org/stream/dunblanetraditio00montuoft#page/19
“If” the ‘Loup o’ Pendreigh’ is the bridge over the Wharry burn, the stone is indeed maybe a mile away. But it’s hardly in a ‘haugh’ as that suggests a meadow next to the stream, and the stone is up some way from it? It is about the Shepherd of Braco who (trained in the use of the broad-sword since infancy no less) manages to despatch an unlikely number of dragoons, who are then buried at the stone.

.. at a place called Whiteheadston, two or three miles north of Dunblane, is another large Upright-Stone, similar to the “Stan’in’ Stane[s]” [at Cauldhame farm] and that on the Black-hill of Pendreigh.

It was at this stone – “the Muckle Stane o’ Whitestoun,” – that “the first Whig blood was drawn,” in 1715, on the morning of that day when a thousand claymores were dyed red with human blood on the heights of Sheriff-muir. Our oralists relate that, according to the superstitious code of their belief, it was deemed by some individuals of the Clans, indispensible to ensure their success in battle, that the blood of an enemy should be shed previous to the commencement of the onset. No stray “red-coat” having fallen into their clutches, it was immediately resolved that they should secretly select a Whig victim from the little hamlet of Whiteheadston, and there, “in cauld bluid,” sacrifice him while the lines were forming to ascend the muir.

A person of the name of Dawson was seized for this purpose, but he, it is said, guessing what was intended, counterfeited so well, that his intending murderers were persuaded he could be no Whig, but a friend of the King – “King Hamish.” Another man, however, was less fortunate, being transfixed with broad-swords at “the Muckle Stane,” after which the foul perpetrators marched off to their lines, satisfied that the wrath of their fallen deities was appeased by the bloody dead.

Also see the story at Wester Biggs.

From ‘Dunblane traditions’ by John Monteath (1887).

The RCAHMS site says there are seven stones lying here, the longest being 1.5m. So it seems reasonable that this is the place for this tradition – maybe even the putting stone’s still here? But someone needs to re-erect the stones if they’re going to get all macho.

About two miles south-west of the village of Blackford, on the Sheriff-muir road, and near to the farm-house of Easter-Biggs, is an arch of stones, seven in number, called the “Seven Stanes,” varying from perhaps a ton to two tons each. One of these is of a round prismatical shape, and stands in an erect position. Beside these lies a large bullet of stone, called “Wallace’s Puttin’ Stane,” and he is accounted a strong man who can lift it in his arms to the top of the standing one, which is about four feet high, -- and a very strong man who is able to toss it over without coming in contact with the upright one.

At one time few were to be found of such muscular strength as to accomplish this -- not so much from the actual weight of the stone itself, as from the difficulty of retaining hold of it, it being very smooth and circular. This difficulty, however, was obviated about seventy years ago, by the barbarous hand of a mason, to enable himself to perform the feat, since which time a person of ordinary strength can easily lift it.

... The “Seven Stanes” [..] tradition informs us, are intended to commemorate a glorious victory obtained by an army of Scottish patriots under Wallace over an English army 10,000 strong, who were taken by surprise and cut to pieces. Wallace, who was not less remarkable for the celerity of his movements than the strength of his arm, determined not only to intercept it, but formed, at the same time, the most daring plan of cutting off their retreat, as if already assured of victory. For this purpose he divided his brave followers into three divisions; one of which he dispatched in the night to the “Seven Stanes” – another was stationed at the Blackhill of Pendreigh, to fall upon the rear – and Wallace himself, with his division, lay on the Muir of Whiteheadston.

So you get three stone legends for the price of one – for here, for the White Stone and for the ‘Great Stane of Pendreigh’.
From ‘Dunblane traditions’ by John Monteath (1887).

In the popular mind [standing stones] are usually attributed to the giant race, of whom a faint tradition lingers. It was the giant of Roenis Hill who, in his combat with the giant of Papa Stour, threw a stone at his opponent in the distant island, which fell short and is now known as the Standing Stone of Busta. Similar tales are told of other standing stones.

From p91 of ‘Shetland Folk-lore’ by John Spence (1899).

Ronas / Ronies Hill (the highest point on the island?) is crowned by a chambered cairn. Surely a good spot for a giant to live?

The Moyness Stone Circle has been dismantled, but it was unique in one respect. One of the boulders of which the circle was composed was said to have been a rocking stone or loggan, and according to traditionary belief was used as an ordeal stone for determining the innocence or guilt of a person accused of crime. If the stone rocked when the person was placed on it, guilt was established; if it remained unmoved, innocence was declared. Considerable sanctity, as may be supposed, attached to this tell-tale stone with its mysterious movements, but the school children of later times, with irreverent familiarity, were wont to play upon it.

From p3 of ‘History of Nairnshire’ by George Bain (1893).

This mysterious and imposing monument of a prehistoric era is commonly known by the name of “The Three Auld Wives’ Lift” [..]

On the upper surface of the top stone of this structure, which is a plane declining a little to the south, there is sculptured a circle of thirty-six inches in diameter, [..] and strange as it may seem, notwithstanding the hundreds that visit this curious relic every year, and for as often as it has been described by archaeologists, this is the first time, so far as I know, that this typical figure has ever been brought under notice [..] The greater part of the upper surface where this symbol occurs is much disfigured by roughtly cut initial letters, and names of thoughtless visitors, rendering it less observable than it would otherwise be [..] To the experienced eye, its purpose-like execution, and weather-worn aspect, will be sufficient evidence of its great age and significance.

Between the upper and the two lower stones of this monument there is a triangular opening from east to west which, if passed through according to the course of the sun in a truly penitential spirit, was formerly believed to have procured complete absolution for previous sins, and superstition still holds it necessary for all strangers visiting this enchanted place for the first time to creep through it if they wish to avert the calamity of dying childless.*

[..] The traditional account of this monument is, that three old women having laid a wager which of them would carry the greatest burthen, brought in their aprons the three stones of which it is constructed, and laid them in their present position. Verily, there must have been giantesses in those days.

*Or you could just stay sinful and childless, yay!

From A D Robertson’s rather long-winded account in the Transactions of the Glasgow Archaeological Society (vol 2, 1883).
archive.org/stream/transactions11socigoog#page/n19/mode/1up

(while you’re about it, you may not want to miss the ghastly account of Oliver Cromwell’s preserved head, also in the same volume. or maybe you would.)

On The Gold Corselet Found Near Mold, Flintshire.

Though the discovery of this unique and splendid corselet took place some years ago, viz. A.D. 1833, yet, as no very satisfactory conjectures relative to the distinguished wearer were then offered, it is presented once more to the notice of the public [..]

We shall preface our account with a “ghost story,” which is as singular as it is true. A considerable time previous to the discovery, an old woman, on her return from Mold late one night, saw an apparition “of unusual size, and clothed in a coat of gold, which shone like the sun,” crossing her road to the identical spot where the treasure was afterwards found*, and which was commonly known by the name of “Bryn yr Ellyllon,” or the Goblins’ Hill. We stop not to enquire into the probable nature of this spectre, whether it was really an emigrant from the unseen world, or merely the effect of imagination, or some other optical illusion; it is sufficient for us that the old woman herself was convinced of its personality. And no less curious is it, that she should have mentioned the circumstance on the following morning, amongst others, to the very person whose workmen dug out the breast-plate!

*This circumstance is mentioned by the Rev. C.B. Clough, Vicar of Mold (and now Archdeacon of St. Asaph,) in a letter communicated by him to John Gage, Esq., Director of the Society of Antiquaries, where he moreover adds: “Her having related this story is an undoubted fact.”

Lots of details too of the unearthing of the various objects, from Archaeologia Cambrensis, v3, 1848.
archive.org/stream/archaeologiacam30assogoog#page/n112

The Monthly Review from 1837 shows the story was definitely doing the rounds quickly, as the quoted letter is supposed to date from 1834.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=hfgEAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA555

And finally, here, and certainly best of all, is a letter from John Gage, and he quotes the Rev. Clough (The old woman had been to collect her husband from the pub. But I’m sure she wouldn’t have drank anything before she saw the ghost :)
books.google.co.uk/books?id=R1pEAAAAcAAJ&pg=PA424
It’s in v26 of Archaeologia (1836).

It includes a lovely drawing of the design on the cape.

This area is full of hut circles, cairns and other traces. canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/6006/details/blairmore/

My friend, the Rev. Mr. Joass of Eddertoun (Ross-shire) has been prosecuting similar researches to my own with great vigour [..] his notes of exploration are so exceedingly interesting that I prefer incorporating them in their entirety [..]

” In Rogart [..] I found similar pairs of [hut] circles associated with tumuli , which latter are connected, in the traditions of the district, with battles fought between the McKays and Sutherlands within the historic period. Such stories frequently spring up to suit the circumstances of particular localities. The kists of these tumuli indicate that they were not the hurriedly got-up graves of those who fell in battle, but the burial places of detached settlements [..]”

Some Further Notes upon Pre-Historic Hut-Circles, by G E Roberts. J of the Anth. Soc of London (vol 3, 1865).

The appearance of this Circle is much hurt by a stone wall built cross it, that cuts off a considerable segment which stands in the road. The enclosed part, in 1774, when this view was drawn, was sowed with corn, and it being then nearly ripe, many of the Stones which had fallen down, were thereby hidden.

The same ridiculous Story is told of these Stones, as of those at Stonehenge, i.e. that it is impossible to count them, and that many persons who have made the trial, could never find them amount twice to the same number. It is added, that this was a holy place, and that Long Meg and her Daughters were a company of Witches transformed into Stones, on the prayers of some Saint, for venturing to prophane it; but when and by whom, the Story does not say.

Thus has Tradition obscurely, and clogged with fable, handed down the destination of this spot, accompanied with some of that veneration in which it was once undoubtedly held, though not sufficiently to protect its remains from the depradations of avarice, the enclosure and cultivation of the ground bidding fair to destroy them.

From ‘The Antiquarian Repertory’ 1775.

Instead of a cromlech at Mynnedd Cnwc we found the vestiges of a large carnedd many of the flat stones of the cist faen or chamber are still remaining but the small ones have been almost all removed to build a wall close at hand. On another fork of the peninsula about an hundred yards distant we observed the traces of another carnedd of much smaller dimensions.*

...The country people have a strange idea of spirits haunting these carnedds and frequently see lights (Ignis fatuus) hovering round the point. They moreover report that an iron boot was dug up not long ago full of money but on further enquiry the money vanished and so did the boot too.

By the description of a man who had seen it I believe it was no other than a gambado belonging to Mr Woode or one of his descendants.

From the Rev. John Skinner’s ‘Ten Days’ Tour through the Isle of Anglesey’ (1804).

Apparently a gambado is a big boot / gaiter that attaches to a horse’s saddle so you don’t get all cold and wet in bad weather. But That Explains Nothing, why would it be buried with money in it?! Besides, I prefer the tales of the strange lights anyway.

*Mynydd Bach.

Whilst a farmer was removing some of the stones from the north east side of the larger carnedd to employ them in his repairs he came to the mouth of a passage covered with a square stone similar to that at Plas Newydd, anxious to reap the fruits of his discovery he procured a light and crept forward on his hands and knees along the dreary vault, when lo! in a chamber at the further end a figure in white seemed to forbid his approach.

The poor man had scarcely power sufficient to crawl backwards out of this den of spirits as he imagined however in the course of a few days instigated by the hopes of riches and the presence of many assistants he made his second entre into the cavern and finding the white gentleman did not offer to stir he boldly went forward and discovered the object of his apprehensions was no other than a stone pillar about six feet in height standing in the centre of the chamber.

His former consternation could now only be exceeded by his eagerness to see what was contained beneath the stone which he shortly overturned but treasure there was none, some large human bones lying near the pillar sufficiently testifying the purpose for which the structure was intended.

This is the substance of the account we received from the young man whose father was one of Colonel Peacock’s labourers and on the premises at the time of the discovery. The superstition of the common people still suppose this to be the habitation of spirits.

Our two conductors seeming rather to compliment each other about precedence I took the lanthorn and [crawled in].. my companions followed close at my heels.

He then mentions a ‘tribe of immense spiders who have reigned here unmolested for ages’ so that’s put me right off, far more than any talk of spirits.

From the fearless Rev. John Skinner’s ‘Ten Days’ Tour through the Isle of Anglesey’ (1804).

Coeten Arthur – Literally, Arthur’s Quoit – a cromlech near Llanddwywau, having the print of a large hand ingeniously cut on it, as if sunk in from the weight occasioned by holding it. It is a large flat stone somewhat of an oval form, about ten feet long, and, in the widest part, nearly seven broad, two feet thick at one end and not more than an inch at the other. It stands upon three rude stone pillars, each about half-a-yard broad. – Ed. Tr.

p152 in ‘Transactions of the Cymmrodorion’ v1 (1822). The first part of this seems to be copied from ‘The Cambrian Register for the year 1795’, except that says ‘a large hand dexterously carved on the side of it’.

The largest of the eight Long Stones in the County Kildare is the one at Punchestown, which is 19 1/2 feet in height above ground, and 11 feet in circumference ; like all the others, it is of granite. One the opposite side of the Wool-pack Road, within view, and a quarter of a mile to the west of it, on the Cradockstown townland, is another granite monolith.

The only tradition the peasantry have about them is that they were hurled from the Hill of Allen, seven miles off, by the giant Finn Mac Coole; one account says it was due to a trial of strength between Finn and a companion; and the smaller boulder they call “the Gossoon’s Stone”; the other accounts says that they were “fired” by Finn in this direction, as his wife was at Punchestown at the time!

The great lean on the Punchestown stone was caused by an attempt, it is said, of one of the Viscounts Allen to remove it to his mansion at Punchestown, for which purpose he yoked fourteen couples of plough-oxen by chains to the boulder, and tried to drag it from the ground – an attempt which fortunately failed. Of Punchestown House not one stone now stands on another, though an old farmer named Comfrey, of Cradockstown (strong and hearty in 1900), remembers to have seen the walls standing; they were eventually levelled, and the materials sold for building purposes.

It’s not explicit that the house and its family disappeared because of the stone-tampering. But perhaps it’s implied?

From the Journal of the County Kildare Archaeological Society 1906, in an article by ‘Omurethi’ entitled ‘Notes on Punchestown and Cradockstown’.

The accompanying photo
archive.org/stream/journalcountyki00socigoog#page/n64
shows the stone leaning massively (with a rather brave soul standing underneath it) so it’s obviously been straightened considerably since. There’s a photo of the Craddockstown stone too.

The site of the old fortress of Conyers, at Bishopton, called Castle Hill, is hollow, if folk-lore be true, and the abode of fairies. The same may in truth be said of almost every circular mound in the north. A most notable specimen near Thirsk, a large tumulus, possesses the euphonious cognomen of Pudding-pie-hill, inasmuch as the fairies there were positively so good as to furnish pies and puddings for their juvenile votaries, who went for the the good things of the fairies of its palaces within. Moreover, they heard the fairies’ music, which thing may be believed, as they had to go so many times round the hill before they put their giddy heads to the ground to hear the strains of the little green people. The appointed day for all this condescension was Pancake or Shrove Tuesday.

Saint James’s magazine, v1 (1850), p 231.

The folklore of the axes is another subject beyond the scope of this work, but it may not be amiss to record here some opinions concerning these implements that were expressed in the hearing of Captain Francis du Bois Lukis on the occasion of a visit to Alderney in 1853.

In general these remarks support, of course, the common belief that the axes were thunderbolts, a belief that was on another occasion charmingly confirmed by a Guernseyman who had discovered that when the broken pieces of these bolts were rubbed together their origin was thereby demonstrated, in as much as one could ‘smell lightning’; he referred, of course, to the curious chemical phenomenon of an empyreumatic or ozone-like odour, accompanied by luminosity, that is often a result of the rubbing together of pieces of quartz, flint, and chert.

Only two people did not share this popular belief; one was a labourer who recognized the axes as implements because he had seen them taken out of the ‘Druids’ Vaults’ in Herm, and the second was a man who knew that axes were used by the ‘old people’ to throw at one another when fighting.

The following are examples of the orthodox belief: A labourer found a thunderbolt near L’Etac, and said that he thought these thunderbolts must hit the ground very hard as they were so often broken. Another man knew what a thunderbolt was, but he had never found one himself, although he had often seen the holes that they made in the ground. Another islander stated that he had found a thunderbolt that had actually knocked down his wall*; he had had the prudence, however, to cover it up at once with big stones to prevent it doing further mischief. This is a departure from the usual custom of preserving the axe in or close to the house as a certain protector against lightning.

In the same notes Francis Lukis also records a remark of an Alderney man about ‘cromlechs’, or megalithic monuments; this informant had told him that they were erected by the Catholics as sites for the performance of human sacrifice; but this was a long time ago, since his family, the oldest in the island, had no recollection of it.**

Another and different belief about stone axes was to the effect that they had been thrown to the earth by fairies and hobgoblins, and for this reason it was sometimes the custome, when an islander found an axe on his land, that he should immediately smash it to pieces upon a larger stone. This information is contained in some remarks by Dr. Frederick Lukis that were quoted by Lieutenant Oliver.

Collated in ‘The archaeology of the Channel Islands’ by TD Kendrick and J Hawkins (1928), v2, p59.

There’s a story about the hill in ‘The Vale of Strathmore – its scenes and legends’ by James Guthrie (1875). But it’s couched in the most outrageous language (’when the silvery moonbeams lovingly slept in dreamy beauty..’) and it’s too excruciating to copy out. Whether it’s even based on local tradition is a good point. But according to the RCAHMS record, the fort has a wall an impressive 8m thick and 5m high. So you’d think it’d capture local attention.

It seems the fairies had decided they couldn’t have any human beings building places to live inside the fort. So they did a deal with some evil spirits – if anyone tried to live there, their attempts would have to be ‘blasted in the bud’. Of course, soon someone turned up and started work. That evening, the demons did their duty and hurled all the stones into the vale below. The next morning the builder was a bit surprised but started afresh on some even more sturdy foundations. Rather meanly the demons allowed him to continue a bit longer this time. But then they demolished it all as before. Not learning from experience the man rounded up lots more workers and began again. But of course their efforts were all swept away once more. He was only pursuaded to get lost once and for all by the demons shrieking at him ‘Go build the castle in a bog, where it will neither shake nor shog!’ Hmm.

I rather wonder if the fort at Camp Hill is the site for the following folklore. There is a ‘Keys to the Past‘ page about the fort though it doesn’t seem much is known about it. I can tell from the map that you would seem to get to it by walking up Clayport Bank. And Swansfield Park is the name of the golf course in which the fort now resides. But maybe someone from Alnwick would know.

.. on moonlight nights these tiny folk trooped out of dell, and cavern, and mine, and from beneath the bracken, and from under green knowes, and out of other lonely places to hold their revels, with music and dance, in the Fairies’ Hollow at the top of Clayport Bank.

On one occasion, while visiting Alnwick, Mr. Tate pointed out to me the Fairies’ Hollow at the head of Clayport, and a series of steps, or rather little benches, caused by subsidences of the soil, rising in a gentle gradient to Swansfield Gate, which had obtained the name of the “Fairy Steps.”

From the Denham Tracts – the first paragraph he has copied from Tate’s History of Alnwick.

I found George Tate writing about the Fairies’ Hollow elsewhere. I can’t help thinking he’s writing autobiographically! as it’s curiously imaginative otherwise...

The fairies, it is said, have been dead and were buried at Brinkburn many a long year ago. This, however, will apply only to the Brinkburn community, for in other localities the belief in the “good folk” has lingered on even into the present century. Some forty years ago, or more, we had near to Alnwick, the Fairies’ Hollow, on the top of Clayport bank. At that period a boy who, having drunk more deeply than was perhaps good for him out of the wells of imaginative literature, stole away from his bed on a moolit night, and ensconsed among the rocks overlooking the hollow, waited and watched till the “witching hour of night” to catch a glimpse of the fairies tripping out of the caverns and hills. The grass waved to and fro by a gentle breeze, and the pale light flickered over the hollow, as fleecy clouds sailed over the moon; imagination was excited, aided, it may be, by the “foure-levit clover” hidden in his cap, and troops of green-clad tiny elves appeared to swarm over the hollow, and to join in the mystic mazes of the dance. Soon, however, darker clouds obscured the moon, and threw a shadow over the scene; the illusion was dispelled – the vision melted away – and the boy reluctantly returned home to his bed, to dream of fairy land.

Printed in the Border Magazine for July 1863.
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=2GcEAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA294

And now we may make a brief reference to an old belief which has died out with a bye-gone generation. Half a century ago the fairies were supposed to have local habitations in our district [..] Brinkburn and Harehope Hill too they frequented. Old Nannie Alnwick, the widow of the last of the ancient race of Alnwick, the tanners, had faith in the good folk, and set aside for them “a loake of meal and a pat of butter,” receiving, as she said, a double return from them; and often had she seen them enter into Harehope Hill, and heard their pipe music die away as the green hill closed over them.

p 439 in volume 1 of George Tate’s ‘History of the borough, castle and barony of Alnwick’ (1866).

Harehope Hill has a couple of cairns on it on the current OS map. The Keys to the Past website suggests there would have been many other Bronze Age cairns up here too. Some swords were found here in the 19th century, which have been taken to mean that the hilltop was reused for burials in the Anglo Saxon period. The map also shows some shakeholes. And they’re a bit weird.

I think this curious story could well be about Kemp’s Cairn. First he talks about Knaughland and how on top of the hill there are the ‘faint indications of an old cairn’. Then:

Mr Cruickshank is between sixty and seventy, and remembers the removal of another cairn, much farther down the hill, in 1816. Part of it, however, had been removed a century ago, and a cist disclosed, which was allowed to remain entire till 1816, and of which the cover yet remains. He says the cist was built of small stones, and was about 1 1/2 foot deep, or high, and covered by the large stone yet remaining.

He mentioned a curious thing. The farm has been in their family two hundred years. In the rebellion, his grandfather, on the approach of the rebels, buried his cheese in the stone grave, raising the lid with a “pinch,” and letting it down again. He has heard him tell of it.

In 1816 the whole was removed by Mr Cruickshank’s father, and the cover only preserved. It is fully 6 1/2 feet long by 4 to 4 1/2 broad, and about 6 inches thick – like a strong flag.

He also mentions a suspected ‘Pict’s House’ (an underground chamber) and also a stone with 13 or 14 cupmarks – the RCAHMS record shows the latter couldn’t be found in the 1960s, but if you read the description it makes you wonder if it’s not so far from Conjure Cairn.

From PSAS v7 (1868), ‘Notes of Early Remains on the Farm of Knaughland, Rothiemay’ by James Hunter.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=h0wGAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA572

Found you a little bit Chance, for your lovely carved stone. But sounds like whatever curses worked at the time they didn’t last enough to stop it being moved in the end.

Not very long ago the authorities of Geneva conceived the idea of carrying away, and placing in the Botanic Garden of the city, the great Druid Stone of Troinex, known as the Pierre aux Dames. The project went so far that a trench was dug about the block, rollers were on the spot, and the removal was about to begin, when the people of the neighbourhood raised such an outcry and besought the Council of State so earnestly to let the stone be, that the order was countermanded, and the Pierre aux Dames of Troinex still remains undisturbed where it has lain for unnumbered ages.

It used to believed in days gone by (and the belief probably still lingers in the remoter parts of the Pays de Gex) that the Pierre aux Dames, an the three Druid stones between Versonnex and Grelly, were thrown thither in sport by the giants who, according to tradition, once dwelt in the fastnesses of the Jura. Another legend has it that the giants placed the stones in their present situation to protect the treasures which are supposed to be buried at immeasurable depths underneath them. These treasures are further and more effectually guarded by the giants’ curse, which will pursue anybody who attempts to destroy or remove the stones; and it is a well known fact that evil has never failed to befall the reprobates who have dared to lay unhallowed hands on these mysterious relics of the past.

From ‘Tales and Traditions of Switzerland’ by W B Westall (1882).

Also there is a long-winded tale about a stone at Versonnex in the same chapter.

From Rhys’s ‘Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx’ (ch. 7):

Next comes the story of Llynclys Pool in the neighbourhood of Oswestry. That piece of water is supposed to be of extraordinary depth, and its name means the ‘swallowed court.’ The village of Llynclys is called after it, and the legend concerning the pool is preserved in verses printed among the compositions of the local poet, John F. M. Dovaston, who published his works in 1825 [..] How much exactly of the poem comes from Dovaston’s own muse, and how much comes from the legend, I cannot tell. [..]

Alaric’s queen was endowed with youth and beauty, but the king was not happy; and when he had lived with her nine years he told Clerk Willin how he first met her when he was hunting ‘fair Blodwell’s rocks among’. He married her on the condition that she should be allowed to leave him one night in every seven, and this she did without his once knowing whither she went on the night of her absence. Clerk Willin promised to restore peace to the king if he would resign the queen to him, and a tithe annually of his cattle and of the wine in his cellar to him and the monks of the White Minster.

The king consented, and the wily clerk hurried away with his book late at night to the rocks by the Giant’s Grave, where there was an ogo‘ or cave which was supposed to lead down to Faery. While the queen was inside the cave, he began his spells and made it irrevocable that she should be his, and that his fare should be what fed on the king’s meadow and what flowed in his cellar.

At this point the retelling gets very complicated. But basically the queen was actually an ogress on her day off and she wasn’t very happy at the interference. So she sank the town under water so all the miserable clerk would get would be slimy water and pike to eat. I don’t know if she was intending to get rid of her bored husband at the same time but that seems to have been the side effect.

The visitor will, Dovaston says, find [..] stories which the villagers have to tell of that wily clerk, and of ‘the cave called the Grim Ogo’; not to mention that when the lake is clear, they will show you the towers of the palace below, the Llynclys, which the Brython of ages gone by believed to be there.

This is not to do with this site necessarily – which is a small hillfort on a site previously occupied in the Neolithic – but does have links with the farm at its base, Bagbury. It struck me as odd to find a story about a strange and supernatural bull when there’s one about a strange and supernatural cow not so far away at Michell’s Fold. It even gets a bit of a stony connection, as the bull had to be contained by burying under the door stone of the church. It sounds awfully pagan vs christian – the bull ruled the area before the church turned up, and he even tried to destroy the building until he was firmly put in his place. I think Alan Garner would love it.

The story is in Collectanea Archaeologia (1862), in Thomas Wright’s ‘On the local legends of Shropshire’. He also tells the story of the Mitchell’s Fold stones and their cow.

There are quite a few versions in Burne’s ‘Shropshire Folk-Lore’:
https://www.archive.org/stream/shropshirefolkl00burngoog#page/n132/mode/2up and the following pages.

There are two large carneddau on the Carno mountain, where a sanguinary battle was fought between Ethelbald King of Mercia and Roderic Molwynog, a prince of North Wales, in which the latter is said to have been victorious. This bit of legend is offered in ‘A topographical dictionary of Wales v1’ by Samuel Lewis (1833).