Rhiannon

I wonder if Ike’s still about. I’d love to know how he knows about this site and its name.. I can’t see the name on the maps. But anyway. Once there must have been a barrow round here and maybe this is it.

In a Tumulus at Over, in this parish [Almondsbury], opened in the year 1650, was found a human skeleton, in a sitting posture, which report affirms to have exceeded the common stature by three feet. No well-authenticated account of the discoveries made on the opening of this sepulchre, appears to have been written.

Doesn’t seem unreasonable that a 8ft+ man would have been a king, fair enough.

From v5 of ‘The Beauties of England and Wales’, 1810.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=gtsuAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA728

On a map from 1880 I see ‘site of tumulus’ is marked at 58828178. So maybe that’s the one referred to above, rather than Ike’s mound?

The name “Thunderbolt” was also given in Scotland to stone axes until within recent years. A finely formed axe of aphanite found in Berwickshire, and presented to the Museum in 1876, was obtained about twenty years before from a blacksmith in whose smithy it had long lain. It was known in the district as “the thunderbolt,” and had probably been preserved in the belief that it had fallen from the sky.

In Shetland stone axes were said to protect from thunder the houses inwhich they were preserved. One found at Tingwall was acquired from an old woman in Scalloway, who believed it to be a “thunderbolt,” and “of efficacy in averting evil from the dwelling in which it was kept;” while another, believed to have “fallen from the skies during a thunderstorm,” was preserved in the belief that “it brought good luck to the house.”

In the North-East of Scotland they “were coveted as the sure bringers of success, provided they were not allowed to fall to the ground.”

In the British Museum there is a very fine axe of polished green quartz, mounted in silver, which is stated to have been sewed to a belt which was worn round the waist by a Scottish officer as a cure for kidney disease.

The late Sir Daniel Wilson mentions an interesting tradition regarding the large perforated stone hammers, which he says were popularly known in Scotland almost till the close of last century as “Purgatory Hammers,” for the dead to knock with at the gates of Purgatory.

From ‘Scottish Charms and Amulets’ by Geo. F. Black. (In v27 of PSAS -1893, p433).
You can check out his sources in the footnotes at
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_027/27_433_526.pdf

The legend of Carnac which explains these avenues of monoliths bears a resemblance to the Cornish story of ‘the Hurlers,’ who were turned into stone for playing at hurling on the Lord’s Day, or to that other English example from Cumberland of ‘Long Meg’ and her daughters.

St Cornely, we are told, pursued by an army of pagans, fled toward the sea. Finding no boat at hand, and on the point of being taken, he transformed his pursuers into stones, the present monoliths.

The Saint had made his flight to the cost in a bullock-cart, and perhaps for this reason he is now regarded as the patron saint of cattle.

From ‘Legends and Romances of Brittany’ by Lewis Spence (1917?), which you can read on the Sacred Texts Archive.
sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/lrb/index.htm

After nearly an hour’s walking, we reached the village of Crehen, on the other side of which the character of the river and of its banks changes. Near the village my guide pointed out to me a tumulus, evidently the work of man.

He said that “les paysans” told a great many strange tales about it; that human bones had been found by digging in it; and that, in stormy nights, a female figure, dressed in white, came forth from it, and went down to the river to wash her clothes, making the whole valley resound with the strokes of her beater upon the linen.

He told me all this with a sneer of supreme contempt for the good rustics who believed thes old-world tales; for my friend, the letter-carrier, had served in the army, and seen the world, even to the extent of having been quartered in Paris for three months.

So he had returned to his native village an educated man, and an “esprit fort,” far too wise to “believe any thing of which he did not know the why and the how.” Thus, with the same self-sufficient educated ignorance, which, in minds too suddenly emancipated from the trammels of long-reverenced ideas, produces similar results in more important matters, he had rejected the truth together with the fable.

For true enough it is, as I afterwards ascertained, that bones to a considerable amount had been found in the tumulus in question, which, in all probability, had been a Celtic place of sepulture.

books.google.co.uk/books?id=XqIKAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA227
From ‘A Summer in Brittany’ by T A Trollope (1840).

As this book was going to press, the tumulus which bore the now demolished Prince’s Tower in Jersey, and which is known as “La Hougue Bie,” was opened by the Societe Jersiaise, under the supervision of my friend Mr. E. T. Nicolle.

The legend concerning it was that it was once the lair of a devastating dragon. A gallant knight, the Seigneur of Hambie, crossed from Normandy to slay it. He succeeded after a desperate fight, but was murdered by his treacherous squire. The latter returned to the Seigneur’s beautiful wife, and married her on the strength of his lying statement that he was solemnly enjoined to do so by his master, whom, he said, the dragon had killed. The false squire was later unmasked and executed.

The tumulus, which is forty feet high and one hundred and eighty feet in diameter, has been found to contain a covered way, four feet high and five feet wide, leading to a central chamber seven feet high, thirty feet long, and twelve feet borad, the length of the whole structure being about seventy feet.

Further particulars as to this magnificent discovery are not yet forthcoming, but it is evidently a sepulchral chamber, which, judging by the numberous other megalithic remains in Jersey, is of neolithic age. It is exactly the kind of relic of an earlier race which would give rise to the legends which form the nuclei of so many of our fairy-tales.

From ‘The Folklore of Fairytales’ by MacLeod Yearsley (1924?), p 235.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=au0RPGI2K8QC&pg=PA235

About the year 900 [..], Ethelfleda built a town called Eddisbury, in the very heart or “chamber” of the forest, which soon became populous and famous for the happy life led by its inhabitants. Though all vestige of this once happy town has now disappeared, yet its name remains, and its site in the chamber of the forest can still be pointed out.

And certainly a finer site the Lady Ethelfleda could not have chosen. It was placed on a gentle rising ground in the centre of the forest, overlooking finely wooded vales and eminences on every side. A little brook rippled past through a small valley, and the old Roman road wound its way round the eminence on which the town was built.

This antique Saxon lady seems to have had a strange passion for building, as we are told she not only built this town, but that she also built fortresses at Bramsbury, Bridgenorth, Tamworth and Stafford, and most probably would have built many more had she not died at Tamworth in 922.

books.google.co.uk/books?id=sN0wjxyotFwC&pg=PA214
From ‘English Forests and Forest Trees’ (1853). Information about Ethelfleda largely comes from a short Anglo Saxon document called the ‘Mercian Register’ which covers the years 902-24.

La glissade appears rarely to have been practised on true megaliths, for the reason that they rarely present the inclination necessary to its accomplishment. It is, however, said at Loc- mariaker, in the Morbihan, that formerly every young girl who wished to marry within the year, on the night of the first of May got on the large menhir, turned up her skirts and let herself slide from top to bottom. The menhir mentioned was the largest one known; but it is now broken in four pieces which lie on the ground; according to most authors it was still standing at the beginning of the eighteenth century. This custom, which could not be followed when the stone stood vertical, twelve meters in height, is, then, relatively modern, yet it is possible that the young girls of the locality have come to follow, on the pieces, an ancient custom which was formerly held on some natural stone in the neighborhood.

The Worship of Stones in France
Paul Sébillot and Joseph D. McGuire
American Anthropologist, New Series, Vol. 4, No. 1 (Jan. – Mar., 1902), pp. 76-107

Sliding (la glissade), the best-preserved of the pre-megalithic forms of worship, is characterized by the contact, at times brutish, of a part of the person of the believer with the stone itself. The most typical examples which have been preserved (and as the rites have no doubt generally been carried on in secret, much has escaped the observer) are in relation to love and fecundity.

In the north of Ille-et-Vilaine are a series of large blocks, at times, but not always, worn into cups, which have received the significant name of “Roches Ecriantes” because the young girls, that they may soon be married, climb to the top of them and let themselves slide (in patois ecrier) to the bottom; and some of them, indeed, are to a certain extent polished because of the oft- repeated ceremony, observed by numberless generations, which we are assured has been practised there.

[..]

At Mell( (Ille-et-Vilaine) the ” Roche Ecriante ” was worn full of basins; on the rock of the same name at Montault, a neighbor- ing parish, inclined at an angle of 45 degrees, there were visible evidences of numberless girls who had there ecriees. After the sliding it was necessary to place on the stone, which, however, no one must see done, a little piece of cloth or ribbon.

From
The Worship of Stones in France
Paul Sébillot and Joseph D. McGuire
American Anthropologist, New Series, Vol. 4, No. 1 (Jan. – Mar., 1902), pp. 76-107

Some gleanings from Jerome F Heavey’s article ‘The Heele Stone’ in Folklore 88, no2, pp238-9 (1977).

The name ‘Heel Stone’ is at least three centuries old: John Aubrey mentioned a certain stone that had a large depression shaped like a friar’s heel. The story hasn’t changed much since that time – basically the Devil threw a stone at a friar who’d been spying on the construction of stonehenge, and it struck him on the heel, and his heel left an imprint.

Heavey suggests the name actually comes from the most obvious characteristic of the stone – the fact it ‘heels’ or tilts. This word was in the written language with this meaning in the 16th century, and doubtless in use for much longer before that..

Whatever, the story about the friar and the devil conveniently explains the position of the stone too, lying some distance from the main stones, and looking for all the world as though it could have been thrown there. Heavey does conclude by admitting ‘we shall never know’, though.

Mr Rasbotham, a Lancashire magistrate in the last century, describes the ancient monuments called the Wilder Lads, as they existed in 1776:

Upon the summit of Horwich Moor lie the Wilder Lads, two rude piles of stone, so called from the popular tradition of the country, that they were erected in memory of two boys who were wildered (that is, bewildered), and lost in the snow at this place.
They may be seen at a considerable distance. They are undoubtedly of very high antiquity, and were originally united by a circular mound, above three quarters of which as yet remains visible. Their circumference is about twenty-six and a half feet, and the passage betwixt them six and a half feet.

From Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine vol XLI, 1837 (p752).

There are some districts where the number and size of the erratics have given rise to the wildest legends of warlocks and elfins. Such a locality occurs between Carnwath and the river Clyde. Here, before farming operations were carried to the extent to which they have now arrived, large boulders, now mostly removed, were scattered so abundantly over the mossy tract between the river and the Yelping Craig, about two miles to the east, that one place was known familiarly as “Hell-stanes Gate” [road], and another “Hell-stanes Loan.” The traditional story ran that the stones had been brought by supernatural agency from the Yelping Craigs. Michael Scott and the devil, it appears, had entered into a compact with a band of witches to dam the Clde. It was one of the conditions of the agreement that the name of the Supreme Being should never on any account be mentioned. All went well for a while, some of the stronger spirits having brought their burden of boulders to within a few yards from the river, when one of the younger members of the company, staggering under the weight of a huge block of greenstone, exclaimed, “O Lord, but I’m tired.” Instantly every boulder tumbled to the ground, nor could witch, warlock, or devil move a single stone one yard further. And there the blocks lay for many a long century, until the rapacious farmers quarried them away for dykes and road-metal.

(The crags at Hare Law are called ‘Yelping Craigs’ on the modern OS map).

From Transactions of the Geological Society of Glasgow, v 1 pt2 (1863).

On assembling round the monolith, the Rev. E. M. Cole, M.A., gave an interesting description of this massive monument of the past. He stated that there were numerous theories put forward to account for the presence of the stone, the most prevalent opinion being that it is “a thunderbolt dropped from the clouds, which stuck in the ground point first.” Others think that it was thrown at the church by the devil – and just missed the chancel!

This article also contains some information about its hat:

The parish register contains a quaint description of the monolithwritten by one of the parish clerks. After a rough pen-and-ink sketch of the monolith appears the following:-

This is nearly the form of a stone wch stands at ye east end of Rudston Church, within ye churchyard, which is situated on an high hill. There are no authorities to be depended upon in regard to either the time, manner, or occasion of its erection. It is almost quite grown over with moss from top to bottom.
In the year 1773 its top being observed to decay through the rains descent upon it, Mrs. Bosville ordered a small cap of lead to be put on it in order to preserve it, wch was accordingly done.
Its dimensions within ground are as large as those without, as appears from an experiment made by ye late Sr. Wm. Strickland, of Boynton.

From the Hull Scientific Club’s visit, recorded in the Leeds Mercury, Sat. May 20th, 1899.

Mothy’s post mentions Allegedly Discredited earthlights during the 60s and 70s, and perhaps that’s what the following relates to – but that would still be an interesting merging of ancient and modern folklore themes?

Cley Hill was the home of the king of the Wiltshire fairies, who was responsible for the lights seen there.

Apparently from Mike Howard’s article, ‘Contacts with unreality’, in 3rd Stone 19: 4-5 (summary taken from the Alternative Approaches to Folklore bibliography by Jeremy Harte, here:
hoap.co.uk/aatf1.rtf

Today I was perusing Rupert Matthews’ ‘Haunted Places of Wiltshire’ (2004) and noticed a story about a large stone on Cley Hill, which was supposed to have a carving of the Devil (yep the Devil himself)’s face on its underside. And anyone turning it over would have to deal with Unpleasant Consequences.

I see a stone is mentioned in one of the miscellaneous posts below.. is it still there?

Quite close to here (somewhere near NJ 956 444) was

Upper Crichie Circle. -- This circle was destroyed nearly one hundred years ago, according to the testimony of one whose father was witness to the destruction.

It would appear the stones were sold by the tenant en bloc, to aid in building a steading. Not long after it was noted that his family were visited by illness, one after the other dying. The superstition of these days was at no loss in assigning a cause.

From
‘Notice of Stone Circles in the Parish of Old Deer’ by the Rev. James Peter, in PSAS v19 (1884-5) – this on p375.

The article can be read at the ADS website.
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_019/19_370_377.pdf

A little more on Gormire, the lake beneath the bank, which you can see here in Robokid’s fine photo:
themodernantiquarian.com/post/66262/images/hood_hill_stone_kilburn.html

The village oracles relate that this awful abyss was produced by a tremendous earthquake, which ingulphed a populous town and its secure inhabitants, in a moment of unexpected calamity, leaving behind it a body of waters unfathomable and bottomless.

From the same [r]espectable authority, it is asserted, that the tops of the house, and the desolate chimneys are sometimes visible to the astonished eyes of the stranger, when embarked on its mysterious surface. [..]

.. the natural beauties of this lake are amply sufficient to repay the visitor for any labour he may have in approaching its rocky margin.

From ‘A brief description of public interest in the county of York’ by Alfred E Hargrove, p128 (1843).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=NrgHAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA128

The Butterstone on Cotherston Moor. --
[..] It was during the great plague of 1636, which desolated the whole of the North of England, that the Butterstone received its name. The fairs and markets of Barnard CAstle and the neighbouring towns were “cried down,” to prevent the spread of the infection, and the country-people had to devise methods for the exchange of their products.

Tradition has handed down that a large brazen vessel, constantly kept full of water, stood upon the Butterstone. The farmers brought their butter and eggs and placed them on the stone, and then retired; upon which the inhabitnats of the towns assembled, and putting money in the basin, took away the articles left.

The sale of wheat and cattle was effected in the same manner. Sacks of wheat were brought to the spot, and the purchaser, on his arrival, carted them away, leaving what he considered to be their value in money: cattle were secured by ropes, and the bargain was similarly concluded – the value being confided to the judgment or honesty of the buyer.

The Butterstone is situated in the parish of Romaldkirk, which was almost depopulated by the pestilence.

So plausibly put you could even believe it, in ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ v202 p224 (1857).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=BGV_qyBZ9LoC&pg=PA224

I was just watching a programme presented by Julian Richards, about Roman roads near Cirencester. He claimed that one of the roads heading in / out of the town (White Way) deliberately makes a dog-leg to avoid the Tar Barrow, showing the amount of respect between the invading Romans and the resident Dobunni.

Looking at the map it’s ‘kind of’ convincing. I’d have thought it was a bit hard to say really. I shouldn’t argue with Mr Richards but then again there is such a thing as Making Good Television.

There are actually two ‘Tar Barrows’ and they have a bit of folklore. They show how facts are a nuisance when you’re Making Good Folklore, also:

GLOS. Cirencester: (S)Tarbury barrow. ‘East of the town, about a quarter of a mile, is a mount or barrow called Starbury, where several gold coins have been dug up, of about the time of Julian, which we saw.’ This must be the same as Tar Barrows, from which an account written about 1685 refers to urns full of coins among the finds, the rest of which show the story to have been greatly ‘improved’ in the telling.
W. Stukeley, Itin. Curios., 2nd edn. (1776), 67; Trans. B. and G.A.S. 79 (1961), 51-2.

from
Barrow Treasure, in Fact, Tradition, and Legislation
L. V. Grinsell
Folklore, Vol. 78, No. 1. (Spring, 1967), pp. 1-38.

More from Grinsell:

In a recent essay, Piggot [Piggott, Stuart, 1976. Ruins in a Landscape. p77-99] argues persuasively that this story, placed at ‘Colton’s Field’ within two miles of Cirencester, conforms to an International Popular Tale in vogue in the late 17th century, and that its location near Cirencester may have been provided to add plausibility to the story which was probably without factual basis.

Notes on the Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain
L. V. Grinsell
Folklore, Vol. 90, No. 1. (1979), pp. 66-70.

According to the New Statistical Account for Fortingal (1845, v10):

Caisteal coin a-bhacain- the Castle of the dog’s kennel.
This bacan, or stake to which the Fingalians tied their stag-hounds, and from which the castle is named, is a thin stone, about 2 and a half feet in height, resembling the letter q, with the small end set into the ground, up on a little green eminence.

It is known as Caisteal a’ Chonbhacain, from a remarkable stone in its vicinity, which was till recent times practically an idol.

-from ‘The Circular Forts of North Perthshire’ by W J Watson, in PSAS for 1912, p30.
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_047/47_030_060.pdf

Perhaps that’s just a less coy version of BigSweetie’s quote below.

On the north side of the hill “there is a natural cave, called the Cateranes’ Hole, formed by a narrow fissure in the freestone rock, and descending towards the west to a very great depth, at an angle of about 15 degrees. ‘By this instructive name, we learn,’ observes Mr. Hedley, ‘that this cave has probably been, in former times, the hidden retreat of Cateranes, an old Scotch word, signifying ‘bands of robbers*‘

*or probably, heroic freedom fighters, depending on what side you’re on.
From ‘An historical, topographical, and descriptive view of the county of Northumberland’ by Eneas MacKenzie (1825).

There’s a picture by J C Ousby on Geograph:
geograph.org.uk/photo/78959

Fourstones is the name of the settlement at the foot of the hillfort. So I admit this is a slightly shoehorned in bit of folklore but it is Stone related.. and who knows where and what the original Four Stones really were? It’s easy to blame things on the Romans when you’re so close to Hadrian’s Wall.

The name of this place is said to have been derived “from its being bounded by four stones, supposed to have been formed to hold holy water.” But other accounts say that these stones were Roman altars, and that there is a story current in the neighbourhood, that one of them was called the “Fairy Stone,” because in the rebellion of 1715, the focus of this altar was formed into a square recess, with a cover, to receive the correspondence of the rebel chiefs, and that a little boy clad in green came in the twilight of very evening to carry away the letters left in it for Lord Derwentwater, and deposit his answers, which were “spirited” away in a similar manner by the agency of some of his friends.

From p868 of ‘History, Topography and Directory of Northumberland’ 1855. The page can be seen on Google Books here:
books.google.co.uk/books?id=8-kGAAAAYAAJ&pg=RA3-PA868

The book also mentions “Castle Hill” as an alternative name for this hillfort (the same name as that given to one of the Roman forts here) and how it “commands an extensive view of the North and South Tyne, and all the principal villages and buildings up both these rivers may be distinctly perceived.” It does seem to have a very strategic location.

On the North side, the OS map marks the ‘Giant’s Well’, which hints at some more local folklore.

2.4.08
Apparently: 1278.-- It appears to have been customary for the king of Scotland, the archbishop of York, the prior of Tynemouth, the bishop of Durham, and Gilbert de Umfreville (by their bailiffs), to meet the justices coming to Newcastle, to hold pleas, and ask their liberties of them [..] at “Fourstanes,” when they came from Cumberland.

From ‘Local Records; or, historical register of remarkable events’ by John Sikes, v1, p29 (1833).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=MkkuAAAAMAAJ on Google Books.

At Holywell, or St. Cuthbert’s well, in Cubert [..] there is a well, or spring of fresh water, in a cavern on the sea shore. Thither on Holy Thursday children from the neighbourhood are carried, passed through a narrow fissure in the rock, and then immersed in a well, or font, excavated just beneath. This ceremony is traditionally said to be for the benefit of the child in soul and body.

Included for its stoney connection, from p241 of ‘The cross and the serpent’ by William Haslem (1849), which is readable on Google Books:

books.google.co.uk/books?id=plMEAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA241

There are twenty duns, or ancient forts, in Tiree, it is said, but I have only seen eight, and examined two [..]. These duns, in the popular imagination, are all connected with Ossian’s heroes, and I have had some difficulty in convincing the people that I am not in search of gold. There is a rhyme which says that Fionn left his gold in Dun Shiatar, which is situated near Hynish.

From ‘Notes on the Antiquities of Tiree’ by J Sands, in PSAS 16 (1881-82) p459-63.
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_016/16_459_463.pdf

It seems the name of this promontory fort might come from the mythical Aine. The stone mentioned below couldn’t (can’t?) be far away – surely someone knows more about it.

.. a great stone called “the chair of Aine, or the chair of the lunatics,” was located, possibly still is, near Dunany; and the people generally believed that lunatics, actuated by some insuperable impulse, if at liberty, usually made their way to this stone, and seated themselves thrice upon it; and it was generally believed that after having performed that ceremony they became incurable. It was also considered a very dangerous act for persons of sane minds to sit upon this stone, lest they too might become subject to the power of Aine, that is, become affected with lunacy.

The human race were not the only beings supposed to have been affected by the mischievous Aine, since rabid dogs even were said to have come from many parts of the country and flocked around this stone, to the great danger of the neighbours and their cattle: when they remained around the lunatics’ chair for some time, they then retired into the sea, as if compelled by some potent invisible power, and the people supposed that they were forced to visit the submarine dominions of Aine, since they were entirely under her subjection.

Aine is said to be connected with the moon, which seems apt if she has a chair for ‘lunatics’ and has connections with the sea.

Quote from an article on Folklore by Mr. Nicholas O’Kearney, in ‘Transactions of the Kilkenny Archaeological Society’ vII (1852-53), on p35. (you can see it on Google Books).

About the beginning of the last century, a hillock on the side of the hill, containing about an acre, with its trees and cattle, slipped nearly 100 yards down.

See Laird’s “Topographical and Historical Description of Worcestershire” p364.

There have been lots of landslips here, fair enough. But surely “with its trees and cattle” conjures up some great images and the start of some tall tales.

... a quotation from Nichols’s “Leicestershire” that [says..] ” near the same place is a stone, which confirms the generally-received opinion of naturalists concerning the growth of these bodies; for, notwithstanding great pains have been taken by a late proprietor of the land to keep it below the surface, it defeats his efforts, and rises gradually..”

Nichols published his books 1795-1812, but this is a quote I found on p372 in ‘On the ancient British, Roman, and Saxon antiquities of Worcestershire’ by J Allies (1852), on Google Books.

This short north-west facing piece of land has a nice bit of folklore to go with it. Robert the Bruce was watching this shore from Arran, waiting for the signal that told him it was a good moment to return to the mainland and oust the English. Unfortunately it was all a bit of a mistake and he ended up retreating to the mountains (though he did take the castle at Turnberry later).

It is still generally reported, and religiously believed by many, that this [beacon] fire was really the work of a supernatural power, unassisted by the hand of any mortal being; and it is said, that for several centuries the flame rose yearly at the same hour, of the same night of the year, on which the king first saw it from the turrets of Brodick Castle, while some go even so far as to say, that if the exact time were known, the fire would still be seen. That this superstition is very ancient, is evident from the place where the fire is said to have appeared being called Bogle’s Brae (the ghost’s hill side,) beyond the remembrance of man. In support of this curious belief, it is said that the practice of burning heath for the improvement of land was then unknown, a spunkie (jack o’lantern) could not have been seen across the Firth of Clyde between Ayrshire and Arran, and that the messenger was Bruce’s kinsman, and never suspected of treachery.

All very confusing. From a note to Scott’s “Lord of the Isles” (canto 5), 1815.

Mr Charles Long communicated a Notice of the investigation of a British tumulus in Berkshire, directed by Mr Henry Long and himself some years since, and he produced a portion of a diminutive vase, found with the interent, and of the class termed by Sir Richard C Hoare, “incense cups.”

.. The barrow was situated near Stanmore Farm, at Beedon.. The common people gave the name of Borough, or Burrow, Hill to it, and they had a vague tradition of a man called Burrow who was there interred in a coffin of precious metal..

.. It was with considerable difficulty that Mr Long could prevail upon the tenant-farmer to give consent; his wife, moreover, had dreamed of treasure concealed on the east side, “near a white spot.” The promise, that all valuables discovered should be rendered up to them, at length secured their permission.

p67 in ‘The Archaeological Journal’ v7, 1850.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=UTQGAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA66

A British fortress on Barra-hill in Aberdeenshire.. deserves notice. It is built in an elliptical form; and the ramparts were partly composed of stones, having a large ditch that occupies the summit of the hill, which as it is about two hundred feet above the vale, overlooks the low ground between it and the mountain of Benachie. It was surrounded by three lines of circumvallation. Facing the west the hill rises very steeply; and the middle line is interrupted by rocks; while the only access to the fort is on the eastern side where the ascent is easy; and at this part the entry to the fort is perfectly obvious.

This Caledonian hill-fort is now called by the tradition of the country, Cummin’s Camp, from the defeat which the Earl of Buchan there sustained, when attacked by the gallant Bruce.

From ‘A History of the Highlands and of the Highland Clans’ by James Browne v1 (1849) – which you may read on Google Books.

This relates to many of the monuments in the area:

There are evident marks of a battle’s being fought in this parish. It is said to have been between the people of Inverness and the McDonalds, and to have happened in the 13th or 14th century. The plain on which this battle was fought, is to this day called Blair-na-coi; a name given it from this particular circumstance, that as one of the contending parties was giving way and flying, a tenant and his son who were ploughing on that field, had taken off the yokes with which the oxen were fastened together, rallied the routed troops, and with them recommenced the action and carried the day.

It would appear the battle was bloody, and desperately fought, from the vast number of cairns of stones that are still to be seen there, covering the dead. These the people still hold so sacred, that though the place was in tillage when the battle was fought, the marks of the ridges being still visible there, and though a great deal of the adjoining moor is now cultivated, not one of these cairns has ever een touched.

Another circumstance that strengthens this opinion is, that the heights and adjacent places go by the name of Druim-na-deor, “the height or the Hill of Tears.” To the E. of where the battle was fought, are to be seen the remains of a Druidical temple, called James’s Temple; and to the W. of the filed of battle, are to be seen the traces of a camp, and a similar one to it on the S. on the hill of Kessock, the highest hill in this parish, where there is also a pretty large cairn of stones, called Cairn-glas.

..

From the Statistical Account, v12, 1794.

Mr. D. Byrne sent a plan and description of an exceedingly curious Cromleac, situate on the top of Coolrus hill, in the parish of Ballyadams, Queen’s County [...] At about one hundred and twenty feet radius from the Cromleac, formerly stood a circle of large upright flag-stones, now removed. [..]

The name by which this remain of antiquity is known at present amongst the peasantry is the ”Ass’s Manger“, evidently a modern appellation. -- There is a strange and highly interesting belief regarding this remain of antiquity amongst the people. They assert that, frequently, even on an afternoon while it is light, funerals are seen passing the Cromleac; the procession appears for the first time a few perches below the monument, as far as the spot where the cists, already alluded to, have been found, it invariably disappears. Mr Byrne stated that he had made much inquiry about this strange matter, and had been at all times assured by the peasantry of its perfect truth!

From p132 of v1 (1849) of the Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland.
You can read it here at Google Books.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=zHk9AAAAIAAJ&pg=PA132

A confusing tangled tale revolves around a bell here. Offa was supposed to have lived in Sutton Walls, or alternatively down in Marden below. As mentioned, there is a church on the spot where Offa murdered St. Ethelbert, and a few yards away, a pond. When the pond was being cleaned out, a bell was found, eighteen feet below the level of the adjacent ground.

The Dean of Hereford said (in the 1840s) that the bell “was formed of a sheet of mixed metal, which had been hammered into shape: it is four-sided.. riveted together on each side..” The Herefordshire SMR says it was of iron and bronze, and calls it ‘Celtic’, but it is surely newer – and where is it now?

He also said, “There is a tradition at Marden among the common people that there lies in the river Lugg, near the church, a large silver bell, which will never be taken out until two white oxen are attached to it, to draw it from the river.”
and elsewhere (eg at the Hereford Times ) there’s talk of a mermaid – the oxen had a go pulling the bell out, but the mermaid dragged it back.

It seems like one of those chicken-and-egg situations (like with the Mold cape) where you can’t tell how much story there really was before the discovery.

See the Archaeological Journal for 1848 (v5) p330
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=XZ08AAAAIAAJ&pg=RA1-PA330

A bit more from John Ryan:

CLOCH-A’-PHOILL, (literally the hole stone, in Irish.)
-- Two miles south of Tullow, in the parish of Aghade, is a huge piece of granite of singular appearance. It is about twelve feet in height and four in breadth, having an aperture through near the top.

There is a tradition, that a son of one of the Irish kings was chained to this stone; but that he contrived to break his chain and excape. There are marks left, caused by the friction of the iron on the stone. We would at once conclude that it was a bull, or some other animal that was chained here, and not a human being; were not the tradition confirmed by written history, the verity of which we are not disposed to controvert.*

The stone is now thrown from its perpendicular, and it was a practice with the peasantry to pass ill-thriven infants through the aperture in order to improve their constitution. Great numbers formerly indulged in this superstitious folly, but for the last twenty years the practice has been discontinued. My informant on this occasion was a woman who had herself passed one of her infants through the aperture of this singular stone. She informed me, that some of the country people talked of having it cut up for gate posts, but a superstitious feeling prevented them. Every antiquary would regret the demolition of the cloch-a-phoill.

Elsewhere in the book (p19) he describes the story. I will try to summarise it because it’s pretty wordy. He doesn’t seem to notice the irony when he says “We shall relate it with as much brevity as may be consistent with a due regard to perspicuity.” But to be fair it is complicated.

Niall was the rightful king. But Eochaidh sets himself up at Tara as the king instead. ‘A druid of eminence’ tells him off and he scarpers. Soon after Eochaidh kills yet another druid for some ill-timed comments(I think). Niall promises the family that there’ll be revenge. But he ends up trashing Leinster in his pursuit of Eochaidh. The people of Leinster end up handing him over to prevent any more trouble. The druid chains him to the stone, and then gets nine soldiers to attack him. But Eochaidh manages to make a superhuman effort and forces one of the chain’s rivets. He grabs some weapons, hacks down the soldiers and dashes off to Scotland..

p338 in ‘The History and Antiquities of the County of Carlow ’ by John Ryan, 1833. Digitised on Google Books.

There is a tradition respecting the large top of a cromlech, in Cornwall, that was removed to a brook at a distance, and converted into a bridge; it is said that this stone possessed the power of speech, and answered questions put to it, until on a certain time, it cracked in an effort to speak, and has been silent ever since. This vague tradition must have originated in the oracular use made of the cromlech from whence the stone was taken.

Vague indeed. Unless someone can enlighten us..

From p279 of The Graphic and Historical Illustrator
Edward Wedlake Brayley (1834) – which can be perused on Google Books.

At the distance of about five hundred yards south-eastward of Kit’s Cotty House, has been another Cromlech, consisting of eight or ten stones, now lying in a confused heap, it having been thrown down about the beginning of the last century, by order of the then propietor of the land, who is said to have intended sending the stones “to pave the garrison at Sheerness,” after they had been broken to pieces.* This design was prevented by the extreme hardness of the stones..

*Thorpe’s account of Aylesford, in the “Custumale Roffense,” p 64-75.

p278 in The Graphic and Historical Illustrator
Edward Wedlake Brayley (1834) – which can be perused on Google Books.

Not far distant from Cloyne is Castle Mary, a seat belonging to the Longfield family : it was formerly called Carrig Cotta, which is supposed to be a corruption of Carrig Croith, or the Rock of the Sun,-- a name derived from a cromlech, or Druidical altar, still to be seen not far from the house.

This remain of paganism consists of a rough and massive stone, twelve feet in length; one end elevated about six feet from the ground by two smaller stones, from which its name of Cromlech, signifying a bending or inclined stone, is derived.

Close by it is a smaller stone or altar, supported in a similar diagonal position by a single stone. There is a tradition, that nothing will grow under either of these altars, an opinion that originates from the total absence of verdure, incident to a want of sufficient light and air*.

The top of the larger altar was richly covered with [Wood Geranium], the light feathery leaves and delicate pink blossoms of which formed a pleasing contrast to the solemnity and breadth of the altar.

*oh don’t be so boring. This from the chapter on Cloyne in Thomas Crofton Croker’s ‘Researches in the South of Ireland’ (1828).

It looked like a dog. I didn’t actually see anything, mind.

[Palm Sunday] gatherings at Deverill took place on Cowdown, i.e., the ridge, parallel with the road from Sutton; boys, as well as men, went up to “beat the ball”, i.e. play trap.
“When was the last time?”
“Oh! when I were a bit of a buoy, they gied over then, ‘cos of ‘en seed the devil; I were up there, but I didn’t see en’, but a were there like a girt dog, and a did rin about, and the chaps rinned away; I seed em rin, and I rinned too; ‘twere gied over ater that.”

From a piece by John U Powell in Wiltshire Notes and Queries, June 1898, p486.
wiltshire.gov.uk/community/gettextimage.php?book_no=002&chapter_no=11&page_no=0043&dir=next

In France, as in England, and indeed most countries [Stones] are usually connected in the popular belief with fairies or with demons – and in England, with Robin Hood. In France this latter personage is replaced by Gargantua, a name made generally celebrated by the extraordinary romance of Rabelais. A cromlech near the village of Toury, in Britany, is called Gargantua’s stone; a not uncommon name for the single stone or menhir is palet de Gargantua (Gargantua’s quoit).

A very common name for cromlechs among the peasantry of France is fairies’ tables, or devils’ tables, and in one or two instances they have obtained the name of Caesar’s table; the covered alleys, or more complicated cromlechs, are similarly named fairies; grottos, or fairy rocks. The single stones are sometimes called fairies’ or devils’ seats.

The prohibition to worship stones occurring so frequently in the earlier Christian ecclesiastical laws and ordinances, relates no doubt to these druidical monuments, and was often the cause of their destruction. Traces of this worship still remain.

In some instances people passed through the druidical monuments for trial, or for purification, or as a mode of defensive charm. It is still a practice among the peasantry at Columbiers, in France, for young girls who want husbands, to climb upon the cromlech called the Pierre-levee, place there a piece of money, and then jump down. At Guerande, with the same object, they despose in the crevices of a Celtic monument bits of rose-coloured wool tied with tinsel. The women of Croisic dance round a menhir. It is the popular belief in Anjou that the fairies, as they decended the mountains spinning by the way, brought down the druidical stones in their aprons, and placed them as they are now found.

From Thomas Wright’s ‘The Celt, the Roman, and the Saxon’, parts of which are reprinted in a review in The Gentleman’s Magazine v.193 1852 Jul-Dec (p233).

Dol is situated in the north of the departement of Ille-et-Vilaine, not far from the sea-coast. Near it, in a field called the Champ Dolent (’Field of Woe’), stands a gigantic menhir, about thirty feet high and said to measure fifteen more underground.

It is composed of grey granite, and is surmounted by a cross . The early Christian missionaries, finding it impossible to wean the people from frequenting pagan neighbourhoods, surmounted the standing stones with the symbol of their faith, and this in time brought about the result desired.

A strange legend is connected with this menhir. On a day in the dark, uncharted past of Brittany a fierce battle was fought in the Champ Dolent. Blood ran in streams, sufficient, says the tale, to turn a millwheel in the neighbourhood of the battle-field. When the combat was at its height two brothers met and grappled in fratricidal strife. But ere they could harm one another the great granite shaft which now looms above the field rose up between them and separated them.

Legends and Romances of Brittany, by Lewis Spence (1917) p24.

Perhaps someone knows the stone to which this daft story refers.

On the Causse above Terrasson, in Dordogne, is a dolmen with a cuplike hollow in the capstone. A friend of mine living near learned that the peasants were wont to place either money or meal or grapes in it. So one night he concealed himself within the cist. Presently a peasantess came and deposited a sou in the cavity, when my friend roared out in patois: “Ce n’est pas assez. Donnez moi encore!” whereupon the woman emptied her purse into the receptacle and fled.

Well I hope he was proud of himself. From p64 of Sabine Baring-Gould’s 1911 ‘Book of Folklore’.

In Brittany are monoliths about which women dance in a state of nudity, and rub themselves against them in hopes of thereby becoming mothers.

Near Dinan is the stone of St Samson. Girls slide down it, as it is on an incline, and if they can reach the bottom without a hitch, they believe that they will be happy mothers when married.

Some of these stones are pitted with artificially cut hollows. The stones are washed, to produce rain, are anointed, and the cup-marks filled with butter and honey. Most in France are now surmounted with crucifixes, or have a niche cut in their faces into which an image of the Virgin is inserted.

From p37 of Sabine Baring-Gould’s ‘Book of Folklore’ (1911).

Also see
themodernantiquarian.com/post/67112/folklore/illeetvilaine_35.html

Thanks Moth for matching this to its geographical location!

Some small stones have been found [in the parish of Wick], which seem to be a species of flint, about an inch long and half an inch broad, of a triangular shape, and barbed on each side. The common people confidently assert, that they are fairies arrows, which they shoot at cattle, when they instantly fall down dead, though the hide of the animal remains quite entire. Some of those arrows have been found buried a foot under ground, and are supposed to have been in antient times fixed in shafts, and shot from bows. Some stones also of a flinty nature have been found, which when broken contained the shape of serpents coiled round in the heart of the stone.

From the Statistical Account of 1791-99 vol.10 p.15 : Wick, County of Caithness.

The “Paddock Stane,” a large rude block, stands in the same locality [as a stone circle], and in its vicinity stone coffins, containing rude clay urns and human bones, are frequently found. Tradition points to this stone as that which the devil threw across the Tay from one of the Fifeshire hills, when he saw St Boniface building his church at the estuary of the burn of Gowry; but, mistaking his distance, the stone fell nearly a mile farther north, and rested on the spot where it now lies!

From ‘Notice of the Localities of Certain Sculptured Stones.. pt III’ by A Jervise. From PSAS, on line at ADS:
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_002/2_442_452.pdf

The story seems to link in with two stones near the church itself, but they’re on the beach apparently:

When the Yowes O’ Gowrie come to land,
The Day o’ Judgment’s near at hand.

A prophecy prevalent in the Carse of Gowrie and in Angus-shire. The Ewes of Gowrie are two large blocks of stone, situated within high-water mark, on the northern shore of the Firth of Tay, at the small village of Invergowrie. The prophecy is ancient, perhaps by Thomas the Rhymer, and obtains universal credit among the country people. In consequence of the natural retreat of the waters from that shore of the firth, the stones are gradually approaching the land, and there is no doubt will ultimately be beyond flood-mark.
It is the popular belief, that they move an inch nearer to the shore every year. The expected fulfilment of the prophecy has deprived many an old woman of her sleep; and it is a common practice among the weavers and bonnet-makers of Dundee, to walk out to Invergowrie on Sunday afternoons, simply to see what progress “the yowes” are making!

From ‘The Popular Rhymes of Scotland’ by Robert Chambers (1826) p 97, which you can read on Google Books.

The PSAS article mentions the Goors o’ Gowrie too, but doesn’t mention any devilish connections – though some internet pages seem to consider them additional diabolical missiles aimed at the church. The PSAS article says “There is nothing in their appearance to attract notice, and it may now be said that they have all but ‘come to land’ since they are separated from the common course of the Tay by the embankments of the Dundee and Perth Railway.” Oh well.

Another thing that links them is that they’re made of the same stone (allegedly):

On the road to Liff, about a mile from the Tay, stands a very large boulder of gneiss, perfectly isolated, vulgarly termed the “Paddock Stane;” and two more of the same sort are to be seen at the extremity of Invergowrie Bay, within a short distance of the land.

From the New Statistical Account, v11 (1845) p575.

I have been informed by a priest, but I know not how far it may be correct, that Carnac signifies literally, in the Breton language, a field of flesh. If this be the meaning of the word, it would lead one to conjecture that these stories were placed in memory of some great battle, or as memorials in a common cemetery of the dead.

The people here have a singular custom, whenever any of their cattle are diseased, of coming among these stones to pray to St. Cornelius for their recovery. Such a practice may be a remnant of pagan superstition continued in Christian times; but I must remark that St. Cornelius is the patron saint of the neighbouring church.

I cannot learn that the peasantry of this country have any traditions about Carnac; and I must here observe than no relations or accounts given either by the poor or more enlightened people of Brittany can be depended upon.

.. Tradition has given to the site of these stones the name of Caesar’s Camp, but tradition in such a question is an insufficient guide. M. Cambry, led by another tradition, reported to him by an old sailor, that a stone was added every year, conjectures, though with hesitation, that the monument has some connexion with the astronomy of a remote age.

From ‘The Penny Cyclopaedia’ v6 by George Long (1836).
Digitized at Google Books, here:
books.google.co.uk/books?id=ztqyJi7Ec9UC&pg=PA304

Stories abound of local people seeing spectral figures and moving lights around the stones at night, as well as hearing phantom singing. As a result, the stones are still treated with a healthy respect. And there is a belief that buildings which have been constructed from former standing stones are subject to a poltergeist-like manifestation known as “The Haunt”.

Stories abound eh – well I’ve not been able to find many about Avebury, so either this is an advertising ploy or some people better get typing.
From ‘Ghosts’ by Sian Evans (a book about National Trust properties), published 2006.

Maybe the 70s tv series ‘Children of the Stones’ is considerably more frightening than reality? I can recommend renting it – megalithic anoraky, 70s fashion and excruciating singing. There is a short clip on You Tube here:
uk.youtube.com/watch?v=e8tui_jUfWw

In the south-east part of the parish is a conical hill, called a law, on which, according to tradition, trials were held of old, and doom pronounced, and at times, perhaps, summarily executed. This little hill, of which the top is now covered with fir trees and furze, has given the name of Lawesk (now Louesk) to the adjoining farms, extending to several hundred acres.

p424 in the New Statistical Account of Scotland v12 (1845).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=MaMCAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA424

About the middle of Gigha is Dun Chifie, or Keefie’s Hill, which appears to have been a strong fortification. Keefie was the son of the King of Lochlin, and occupied this stronghold, where (according to tradition), he was slain by Diarmid, one of Fingal’s heroes, with whose wife he had run away.

From the New Statistical Account of Scotland (1845).

Lwyd, in the additions to ‘Camden’s Britannia’, informs us that in the year 1687 he had copied an inscription from a stone, called Bedh Porws, or Porus’s grave, near Lhech Idris.. the field is still called maes y bedd, or the field of the grave.

It is now chiefly covered with potatoes; and I cannot but think that the poor farmer, who cannot speak a word of English, hath merit with the antiquarian world, as the stone is placed very inconveniently in the centre of his present crop, nor would it be difficult at all to remove it.

Lwyd very truly states that Porius’s monument is to be found near Lhech Idrys. This name signifies Idrys’s stone, which is to be seen about a quarter of a mile to the south of Maes y bedd. It is a single upright stone of about five feet high, situated not far westward from a brook which runs through a valley opening many miles to the southward. At the end of this valley may be seen Cader Idrys in a clear day, which is the highest mountain of Merionethshire, and is supposed to signify Idrys’s chair.

Idrys was a giant formerly in this part of Wales, and the tradition is, that he kicked a stone from the top of Cader Idrys which fell where Lhech Idrys, or Idrys’s stone, is now to be found. Many such kicks by a giant would solve most of the difficulties with regard to Stonehenge.

I am, &c.
Daines Barrington.

A letter from 1770 to Mr Gough, collected in
‘Illustrations of the Literary History of the Eighteenth Century’ by J Nichols.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=TEcJAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA588

(As usual when it comes to Ireland I am being a bit pathetic with pinning the stories to locations. But I hope the locations still exist).

.. Avowedly malignant ceremonies have been performed at two, if not three, places in East Clare. At Carnelly, near Clare Castle, at an unknown period remote even in 1840, “a black cock, without a white feather,” was offered to the Devil on the so-called “Druid’s Altar,” two fallen pillars near an earthen ring beside the avenue, --to avenge the sacrificer on an enemy, but in this case it brought an equivalent misfortune on the sacrificer himself.

The Duchess de Rovigo, an heiress of the last Stamer of Carnelly, used the story, combined with irrelevant family legends and pseudo-archaeology, in a poem dated 1839, but I obtained it, as given above, from a more reliable source, her mother, in 1875 and 1882, as well as from my brothers and sisters, who heard it in “the forties”.

When I was at the dolmen near the house at Maryfort in 1869, an old servant, Mrs. Eliza Ega (nee Armstrong), said to me, -- “Don’t play at that bad place where the dhrudes (druids), glory be to God! offered black cocks to the Devil!”

A Folklore Survey of County Clare (Continued)
Thos. J. Westropp
Folklore, Vol. 22, No. 1. (Mar. 31, 1911), pp. 49-60.

Hunt quotes O Halliwell’s ‘Rambles in Western Cornwall, by the Footsteps of the Giants’ – the giants were always entertaining themselves with ‘bob buttons’ and other ball games using rocks.

“Doubtlessly the Giant’s Chair on Trink Hill was frequently used during the progress of the game, nor is it improbable that the Giant’s Well was also in requisition. Here, then, were at hand opportunities for rest and refreshment--the circumstances of the various traditions agreeing well with, and, in fact, demonstrating the truth of each other.”

- at the Sacred Texts Archive
sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/prwe/prwe009.htm