Rhiannon

On this eminence, which was anciently called Eldebury or Oldbury Hill,, and on which, Mr. Manning says, “were the visible traces of a Camp,” now possibly hidden by the plantations, was a Chapel, dedicated to St. Anne, which was erected about 1334; and in June the same year, Orleton, bishop of Winchester, granted license to the abbot and convent of Chertsey to perform divine service in the new-built chapel during his pleasure. In the August following, he granted an indulgence of forty days to such persons as should repair to and contribute to the fabric and its ornaments.* Nothing remains of this edifice except a rude fragment of a wall.

“Near the top of the Hill,” says Mr. Aubrey, “is a fine clear Spring, dress’d with squar’d stone; within a little of which, on the hill side, lies a huge stone (a conglobation of gravel and sand), breccia, which they call the Devil’s Stone, and believe it cannot be mov’d, and that treasure is hid underneath.“** The spring still remains, and is stated to be seldom frozen when other springs are so; but the stone was removed and destroyed many years ago.

Another Spring, once highly reputed for its medicinal virtues, rises on the north-east side of the hill, in the wood or coppice called Monk’s Grove, which gives name to the seat inhabited by the Right Hon. Lady Montfort. This spring, according to Aubrey, had been long covered up and lost; but was again found and re-opened two or three years before he wrote. The water is now received into a bason about twelve feet square, lined with tiles.

*Manning and Bray, ‘Surrey’, vol iii. p226.
**Aubrey’s ‘Surrey’, vol iii. p185.

From vol 2, p243 of ‘A Topographical History of Surrey’ by Brayley and Mantell (1850).

The mountain features in a traditional song called ‘Tibbie Fowler’:

Be a lassie e’er sae black
Gin she hae the penny siller,
Set her up on Tintock tap,
The wind will blaw a man till her.

Be a lassie e’er so fair,
An she want the penny siller,
A flie may fell her in the air,
Before a man be even’d till her.

(I hope a Scottish person can explain this?! Is it about only being marriageable if you’re rich?? Is ‘siller’ silver?)

After a slightly more dialecty version of the rhyme below, the ‘Scottish Journal of Topography, Antiquities, Traditions, &c’ says:

“On the summit,” says Chambers, “is an immense accumulation of stones, said to have been brought thither at different times from the vale (distance three Scotch miles), by the country people, upon whom the task was enjoined as a penance, by the priests of St John’s Kirk, which was situated in a little glen at the north-east skirt of the mountain, though no vestige of its existence now remains except the burying ground.

The summit of Tintock is often enveloped in mist; and the ‘kist’ mentioned in the rhyme, was, perhaps, a large stone, remarkable over all the rest of the heap for having a hole in its upper side, which the country people say was formed by the grasp of Sir William Wallace’s thumb, on the evening previous to his defeating the English at Boghall, in the neighbourhood.

The hole is generally full of water, on account of the drizzling nature of the atmosphere; but if it is meant by the ‘caup’ [cup] mentioned, we must suppose that the whole is intended as a mockery of human strength; for it is certainly impossible to lift the stone and drink off the contents of the hollow.

A ballad by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, entitled “The Spirit of Tintoc, or Johnnie Bell and the Kelpie,” was published anonymously in 1803. The story is the adventurous undertaking of a drouthy tailor, who resolves to quench his thirst from the magic cup..

Naturally nothing good came of it. The rest is on p149 (v1, 1847) and it’s scanned in on Google Books should you wish to investigate.

The last time that Arran saw an enemy on its soil, was during the temporary occupation of Scotland by the usurper Oliver Cromwell. He placed a garrison of eighty men in Brodick Castle [..] His troops fell victims to the angry passions of the Highlanders. It would appear that they used some improper liberties with the females of the island, and otherwise conducted themselves with the usual license of conquerors. The Highlanders, fired by such insults, watched their opportunity for revenge; and, taking the Englishmen by surprise when out on a foraging excursion, they put them all to the sword. The last of the party that fell was dragged forth from his concealment under a large stone near the road side at Sannox, which still, from its remarkable appearance, attracts the notice of visitors.

I’m sure he wasn’t, but who wants to spoil a good story. From p 22 of the Buteshire section of the New Statistical Account of Scotland (v5 – 1845).

On the bank of the river near Slidry, there is a long grave-like mound, distinguished by two large erect stones standing, the one at the head, the other at the foot, at an intervening distance of about 30 feet. This is supposed to be an elongated trench, in which the warriors slain in battle have been buried; tradition claims it as the grave of one of Fingal’s heroes.

from ‘On the Rude Unsculptured Monoliths and Ancient fortifications of the Island of Arran’ by Mr John McArthur. In ‘The Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal’ – v9, 1859.

I found this, though it adds little more:

.. the Borderers had signals, and places of rendezvous, peculiar to each tribe. If the party set forward before all the members had joined, a mark, cut in the turf, or on the bark of a tree, pointed out to the stragglers the direction which the main body had pursued.*

*At Linton, in Roxburghshire, there is a circle of stones surrounding a smooth plot of turf, called the Tryst, or place of appointment, which tradition avers to have been the rendezvous of the neighbouring warriors. The name of the leader was cut in the turf, and the arrangement of the letters announced to his followers the course which he had taken. See Statistical Account of the Parish of Linton.

p lxxxix in the 1821 (5th) edition of ‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border’ by Walter Scott – on Google Books.

also:

In different parishes, such as Moorbattle, Linton, and others, are to be found what are called tryst stanes. These are great stones commonly situated on high grounds. They are placed perpendicularly in rows, not unfrequently in a circular direction. It is said, as also the name imports, that in times of hostility they marked the places of resort for the borderers when they were assembling for any expedition of importance.

‘The beauties of Scotland’ (1805) by Robert Forsyth, p103 – also on Google Books.

It’s been suggested that the Green Chapel of the Green Knight might be based on this cave.

.. the suggestion [was] initially advanced by Mabel Day (’Introduction to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight‘, EETS 210, 1940, p. xx) and developed and articulated in closer detail by Robert Kaske (’Gawain’s Green Chapel and the Cave at Wetton Mill’, Medieval Literature and Folklore Studies 1972, pp. 111ff.)..

..Having visited the site, I must admit that the case.. seems rather intriguing. A short distance from the stream a rugged knoll, overgrown with grass and weeds and with a crevice=like, rock-strewn cave about thirty feet long extending most of the way through it, tops a rather steep slope, separated from the stream only by a narrow gravel road. The knoll is faced at a distance of about three hundred yards across the stream by a forbidding-looking fissure-like hole leading into a deep, narrow cavern in the towering rock known as Ossom’s Crag topping a steep hillside. Here, then, the ‘Green Chapel’ would be facing the hole in the rock whence the Green Knight so dramatically emerges...

Anyway after all that waffle, I think a more commonly held belief is that this part of the story is set at Lud’s Church?

It’s a bit confusing up here – there’s a lot going on.

[Kilburn lies] immediately below the precipitous south-west corner of the Hambleton Hills, and not far from the supposedly bottomless lake called Gormire. The hill-end bears the figure of a White Horse, 300 feet long and 200 feet high. It was cut in 1857, and it is said to commemorate a legendary individual mounted on a white horse who fell off the cliff, possibly into Gormire. Since that date, it has been scoured about once in seven years.

The name White Mare Crag or White Stone Cliff is older than the figure*. There is a racecourse, now used only for training, on the flat hill-top, 800 feet above the plain. A collection of medieval Latin ghost-tales compiled by a monk of the nearby Byland Abbey contains a story about a white horse.

[..] the Village Feast begins on the Saturday after 6 July, and may therefore be associated with Old Midsummer Day [..]

*This might be true, but the name actually refers to somewhere further along Sutton Bank, above the Gormire lake. There are various ‘tumuli’ and cairns in the vicinity, and a cave called the ‘Fairies Parlour’.
The above is from
Kilburn Feast and Lord Mayor
N. A. Hudleston
Folklore, Vol. 69, No. 4. (Dec., 1958), pp. 263-265.

More horsish stuff. Surely why the creator of the white horse was inspired to create it?

Gormire.-
“When Gormire riggs shall be covered with hay,
The white mare of Whitestone Cliff will bear it away.”
Richmondshire p240.

This white mare was a beast more or less mythical, which sprang over a cliff with a young lady rider, whose body was never found.

Additions to “Yorkshire Local Rhymes and Sayings”
E. G.
The Folk-Lore Record, Vol. 3, No. 2. (1880), pp. 174-177.

You will notice the ‘Devil’s Parlour’ cave at Roulston Scar – as Paulus mentions, the Devil leapt from here to Hood Hill, carrying a stone.

More than one of the fieldnotes above mentions the Caw Gap above the stones. Well, just by the gap is the ‘Bogle Hole’:

It was in the immediate vicinity of Bogle Hole that during one of my earliest visits I was told by a countryman of superhuman appearances there, of the huntsman’s dogs turning back from the pursuit of animals which were something more than what they seemed to be, and of a man who in trying to fly from a high crag was killed, as we might have supposed he would be; but my informant did not attribute his fate to want of skill in the means he had adopted for his flight, but solely from his having neglected to make an offering of barley-cake to the rocks [..]

- Charles Roach Smith’s Retrospections, Social and Archaeological, vol. i. p.181.

From Notes, Queries, Notices and News
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 1, No. 7. (Jul., 1883), pp. 226/7.

Drewton, a neighbouring village, marks, as it is said, the site of Druid’s town, where a stone about twelve feet in height yet standing was so much venerated by the natives, that Augustine stood upon it to preach, and erected a cross thereupon that the worshipper might learn to associate it with a purer faith. It is still known as Austin’s Stone.

From p34 of ‘A month in Yorkshire’ by Walter White (1854). Well Walter, I don’t think you saw it yourself, because frankly this is a natural stone and to say it’s twelve feet in height is slightly misleading. But it’s interestingly placed, right at the top of Austin’s Dale, a narrow valley, which has springs in it that lead into the Drewton Beck. Augustine would have to have shouted.
(I know this is a bit dodgy – part christianised site, part natural – wholly speculative for tma).

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Some more, gleaned from the extensive folklore bibliography by Jeremy Harte ( hoap.co.uk/aatf1.rtf )

1986iv Philip Heselton, ‘St. Austin’s Stone’, Northern Earth Mysteries 31: 10-12 –

St. Austins Stone near South Cave is a rock outcrop where Saint Augustine is said to have made converts, baptising them in a nearby well. The site is used for church services. Every seven years, part of the stone falls away, but it always grows again. Locations:- Yorkshire (East Riding).

Turn we now to [..] that curiously conical hill sticking up alone in the centre of the Crinan moss. This, taking its name from the river which winds round its base, is called Dun-Add, and from which time immemorial has been the favourite haunt of the witches and fairies of Glassrie [..]

A farmer laird of Dun-Add had the second sight. One night he was lying in bed with a churn of cream placed before the fire (yes this is a bit of a set up but it’s for the story). He saw the fairies enter the room with a child they’d stolen – they washed it with the cream as part of their Strange Rites. When the cock crowed, they dashed off, leaving behind a little bag. The farmer, much to his wife’s disgust, poured the cream away in the yard. As it turned out, the dogs that lapped it up fell dead – so that gave some credibility to the farmer’s bizarre story.

When he checked the bag he found the following articles:

.. a little stone spade, something like the stone arrowheads which are frequently found and known by the name of elf shots, a little stone pot for making the fairy porridge, some stone balls, and other affairs. Each of these was possessed of different virtues [..]

The spade was laid beneath the pillow of a sick person, and by the subsequent appearance or non-appearance of perspiration the recovery or death of the invalid was to be discovered. The round balls were to be immersed in a pail of water which afterwards was given as a drink to cattle, who thereby were cured of any disease that might have befallen them; and all the other articles had each a virtue which I have now forgotten, if I ever heard of them [..]

p67 of ‘The Royal Route’ by Rusticus (1858).
Well who knows if this is tradition or not. But it’s the right sort of thing.

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On p74, he mentions that the fort of Dunadd possesses “the rare advantage of a good well of water, springing out of the rock almost at the crest of the hill. As everything about this singular place was supposed to have a supernatural character, this well, according to popular belief, rose and fell with the sea tide.”

also that:

“On the farm of Rudale, but a short distance from Dunadd, there is a singular cavity in the face of a steep rock, bounding one side of a tiny and secluded dell amongst the hills, with sloping grassy banks opposite to the rock, which is known by the name of Fingal’s pulpit.”

Because Fingal and his friends often hung out at Dunadd, you see. The pulpit is 8ft by 2 and a half, covered overhead, and containing “two low but comfortable seats formed of the solid rock”.

Higher up on that hill (Rudale Hill) there’s the impression of a foot – well, that’s because Fingal’s son, Ossian was out hunting when a boy, and was attacked by a huge stag. So he leapt away – once, onto Rudale Hill – twice, to Dunadd, where there’s more impressions: one of a foot, and then “he fell upon his knee, forming the circular cavity, and saving himself by grasping with both hands the rock..” (the latter are on an upright rock, if you want to look. Rudale seems to be ‘Rudle’ today).

Elsewhere, someone is being rational about the Rudall / Rudle marks: With respect to the ‘footmarks’ about Rudall, I once heard that such a thing or things existed; and on going to examine them found them in abundance; but they were natural marks in the rock. in some of these rocks there are concretions of various sizes, and of a long, oval shape, composed of several layers or coats half worn through, and lying flat in their longest diameter, they have a very close resemblance to a footmark. This may have given rise to the legend of the footmarks on or near Rudall. – Rev. R J Mapleton, Handbook for Ardrishaig p41.

In England, most of the peasantry swallow with credulous avidity any ridiculous stories of ghosts, hobgoblins and fairies. There certainly is, however, in the Welsh, a greater inclination to credulity than an Englishman can discover among his own people. There are but few of the mountaineers of Wales, who have not by heart a string of legendary stories of disembodied beings.

The cavern in Llanymynech hill, not far from Oswestry, has been long noted as the residence of a clan of fairies, to whom the neighbouring villages attribute many surprising and mischievous pranks. Whilst they have stopped to listen at the mouth of the cave, the people state that they have sometimes even heard the little elves in converstation, but this was always in such low whispers, that the words which were reverberated along the sides and roof of the cavern could not be distinguished. The stream that runs across a distant part of this cavern is celebrated as the place where the fairy washerwomen and labourers have been heard frequently at work.

p323 of ‘Excursions in North Wales’ by William Bingley (third edition, 1839).

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.. the fairies are still believed.. to keep possession of the deserted mines of the Romans in the hill of Llanymynech, from which place the benighted miner sometimes imagines that he sees them coming forth to perform their gambols on the grassy slopes of the mountain. p64 in ‘On the Local Legends of Shropshire’ by Thomas Wright. p56 in ‘Collectanea Archaeologica’ v1, 1862. Online at Google Books.

Camden, in his “Britannia,” informs us, -- “In a rock in the island of Barry, in Glamorganshire, there is a narrow chink, or cleft, to which if you put your ear you shall perceive all such sorts of noises as you may fancy smiths at work under ground, strokes of hammers, blowing of bellows, grinding of tools.” At Worm’s head, in the peninsular of Gower in Glamorganshire, these sounds are, even now, often heard; and it requires but a moderate stretch of imagination to create all this cyclopean imagery, when the sea is rolling in cavities under our feet, and the tone of its voice is magnified by confinement and repercussion.

From p151 of ‘The Philosophy of Mystery’ by Walter Cooper Dendy (1841).

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I’ve since found out it wasn’t Camden at all – it was Giraldus Cambrensis:

.. In a rock or cliff, by the sea=side in Glamorganshire, near the Isle of Barry, there appeareth a little chink, into which, if you lay your ear, you shall hear a noise as of smiths at work – one while the blowing of bellows, another while striking of sledge and hammer, sometime the sound of the grindstone and iron tools rubbing against it, the hissing sparks also of steel gads within holes as they are beaten, yea and the puffing noise of fire burning in the furnace. Now I am persuaded that the sound comes of the rush of the sea water.

Sounds far too complicated for that. But you could be right.

On my ascent of the Vann mountain in Brecon, there often came a mass of limestone rolling down the precipice. “Ah sure,” said the old shepherd, who was watching his fold on the mountain-side, “the fairies are at their gambols, master, for they sometimes do play at bowls with these chalk stones.”
Such was his explanation; but, on gaining another ridge of the Brecon Beacon, I starteled a whole herd of these fairies, who scudded off as fast as their legs could carry them, having first changed themselves into a flock of sheep.

From ‘The Philosophy of Mystery’ by Walter Cooper Dendy (1841). Such cynicism from a man writing a book about apparitions.

Mr. Stuart adverted to the varying circumstances under which flint arrowheads were found. The popular belief which long regarded them as “elf-darts,” and which was not confined to Scotland, had been expressed by the well-known Scottish geographer, Robert Gordon of Straloch, about two centuries ago. After giving some details about them, he adds that these wonderful stones are sometimes found in the fields, and in public and beaten roads, but never by searching for them; to-day perhaps one will be found where yesterday nothing could be seen, and in the afternoon in places where before noon there was none, and this most freqently under clear skies and in summer days. He then gives instances related to him by a man and woman of credit, each of whom while riding found an arrowhead in their clothes in this unexpected way.

Described on p174 of ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ Jan-June 1861.

What a scoop if this were true.

[A] curiosity in [Old Radnor] church [is] the extraordinary font, of the date of which it is impossible to form any opinion beyond the fact of its being a very early one, from the enormous dimensions of the bowl. It stands upon four clumsy feet, the under portion of the original mass having been cut away, leaving these rude supports.

The material is of a hard porphyritic rock, unlike any stone known in the vicinity, but said to be identical as to its character with the stones below in the valley, known as the Four Stones; so that if this is the fact, it is probable that it has been removed at some very early period from this so-called Druidic group, and converted to Christian use.

It’s so easy to get confused when you’re not a geologist. But if you are.. get down to the church immediately! Whatever the truth, it’s a nice romantic thought. And ties in nicely with other speculation about the church.

from p366 of Archaeologia Cambrensis, v9 (third series), 1863.

Here’s a picture of it, at ‘Gathering the Jewels’. It really does have some resemblance to the squat Four Stones? but it is weird anyway, and seriously old if it really is 8th century as GTJ suggests (much older than the church).
peoplescollection.wales/items/30749#?xywh=-263%2C-1%2C1061%2C750

I also spotted this intriguing stoney snippet in the Gentleman’s Magazine (p514 in the Jul-Dec v11 for 1861):

..it was still a saying in Wales, “I would gladly carry a stone to his grave,“* and at Radnor it was, until very lately, the custom for mourners to carry a stone, which they cast down outside the churchyard.

*I can’t really tell if this is nice or nasty.

Throughout Europe and even adjacent areas there was the widespread belief in thunderstones. These peculiar stones (prehistoric flint and stone axes) were thought to have crashed into the earth during a lightning strike. Although nowadays this superstition has largely vanished, it was still widely accepted in the first half of the 20th century.

Deinse* describes this situation for the Dutch province of Overijssel, directly south of Drenthe. He reports that virtually every farmer has at least one prehistoric axe at his farm. They were believed to protect the house against lightning, as lightning never strikes the same place twice. He even reported that particular axes were believed to possess special powers. Small bits of stone were scraped off these axes and were given to children as a medicine against convulsions.

Deinse, J.J. (1925): Uit het Land van Katoen en Heide – Oudheidkundige en Folkloristische schetsen uit Twente. p102-111

This is from p25 of ‘Ceci n’est pas une hache. Neolithic Depositions in the Northern Netherlands’ by Karsten Wentink, 2006 – which you can read online at Google Books – it has lots of Serious archaeological information and discussion in it.

The writer is contemplating how stone axeheads might have been used, and concludes from their variety of sizes that they were tools (or the larger ones being weapons).

.. the large celt appears to have been fixed in a cleft stick, or enclosed within the folds of a tough, slender branch [..] It is said that when the Breton peasant finds a celt, called in most countries on the Continent a “thunderstone,” he places it in the cleft of a growing branch or sapling, and leaves it there until the wood has formed and hardened round it; but this must have taken a great length of time. We do not, however, find the slightest trace or mark of such a handle on a single celt in this Collection [that of the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy].

From p46 in ‘A Descriptive Catalogue of the Antiquities ... in the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy’ by W R Wilde (1857) – on Google Books.

I own, I was thunderstruck* at the report of this singular instance of superstition, and suspended my belief of its existence till I was at length convinced by the testimony of my senses. The old lady, who possesses this miraculous thunderbolt, lives, at this moment, in the parish of St. Keverne, adjoining to Manaccan. She informed me that it was found, many years ago, at no great distance from her house, just after a thunderstorm, half buried in the ground, and was taken up hot and smoking; and that its virtue was accidentally discovered by one of the family, “who lost the rheumatism” merely by handling it. On asking her what was her method of applying her thunderbolt to her patients, her answer was, that ”She boil’d ‘en for about three hours, and gave the water to her patients, with directions to bathe the part affected; and that she had cured hundreds. – “Boil’d dunderbolt was a vine thing for the rheumatis,” said an old man present. – - It is a perfect celt.

p28 of ‘The Old English Gentleman: A Poem, by Mr. Polwhele’ by Richard Polwhele, published 1797. Online at Google Books.

*yes very good.

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And some further axehead folklore:

A celt (commonly called in this neighbourhood a thunderbolt) was some years ago found on [West Looe] Down. The common people believe these celts to be produced by thunder, and thrown down from the clouds; and that they shew what weather will ensue by changing their colour.

p32 of ‘The Parochial History of Cornwall’ by Davies Gilbert (v4) 1838. Also on Google Books.

This version has a happier outcome for the Devil:

At a short distance from the village are the disconnected stones known as the Devil’s Quoits [..]; the name arises from the popular tradition that the Devil played here with a beggar for his soul, and won by the throwing of these huge stones.

p89 in ‘A Handbook for Travellers in Berks, Bucks and Oxfordshire’, published by John Murray (1860).

It is quite certain, [..] that Ethelred king of Mercia, was a great benefactor to [Bardney Abbey]. And when this monarch relieved himself from the cares of government after a long reign of war and bloodshed, in which he had recovered “the isle of Lindsey” from the Northumbrians, and ravaged the kingdom of Kent, sparing neither age nor sex, church, nor monastery, by resigning his kingdom; to atone for his misdeeds, he retired to spend the remainder of his life in Bardney Abbey, and accepted the office of its abbot [..]. A large barrow or tumulus still remains near the site of the abbey, where tradition says he was buried. It is called to this day “King’s (Conig) Garth.”

p35 of ‘An account of the religious houses formerly situated on the eastern side of the river Witham’ by the Rev. George Oliver (1846). Online at Google Books.

In May 1836, I was one of a numerous party who proceeded with the late Mr. Jonathan Gray from the house of the Vicar of Kirkby Moorside, to inspect and open some of the tumuli and cairns which are scattered over the dreary hills north of the Vale of Pickering..

..a conspicuous object for many miles round, was the large conical heap of stones called Obtrush Roque. In the dales of this part of Yorkshire we might expect to find, if anywhere, traces of the old superstitions of the Northmen, as well as their independence and hospitality, and we do find that Obtrush Roque was haunted by the goblin.

But ‘Hob’ was also a familiar and troublesome visitor of one of the farmers, and caused him so much vexation and petty loss, that he resolved to quit his house in Farndale and seek some other home. Very early in the morning, as he was trudging on his way, with all his household goods and gods in a cart, he was accosted in good Yorkshire by a restless neighbour, with “I see you’re flitting.” The reply came from Hob out of the churn – “Ay, we’re flutting.” Upon which the farmer, concluding that change of air would not rid him of the daemon, turned his horse’s head homeward.

This story is in substance the same as that narrated on the Scottish Border, and in Scandinavia; and may serve to show for how long a period and with what conformity, even to the play on the vowel, some traditions may be preserved in secluded districts..

.. [They investigated the ‘goblin-haunted mound’] but within the kist were no urns, no bones, no treasures of any kind, except a tail-feather from some farmyard chanticleer. The countrymen said this place of ancient burial had been opened many years ago, and that then gold was found in it. It seemed to us that it must have been recently visited by a fox.

p212 of ‘The rivers, mountains and sea-coast of Yorkshire’ by John Phillips (1853).

Not only the common people, but even the clergy, and better sort, in the interior of the Highlands, till about sixty or seventy years ago, believed in ghosts, fairies, brownies, hob-gobblings, and the like. I fell in with an old man, that positively insisted he had seen them, and that a gentleman, belonging to the parish of Boharm, upon shooting among fairies, who were dancing round a green tumulus, one summer evening, wounded one of them, so that it could not fly off with the rest; that he caught it and kept it all night; but that, recovering, it flew away in the morning.

p409 in ‘Travels in Scotland, by an unusual route’ by James Hall (v2) 1807. (But maybe Boharm was a parish in Moray, rather than the Highlands. Far away enough not to let the truth interfere perhaps).

In Cambret Moor, in the days of Symson, there was a stone of four or five feet in diameter, called “the Penny Stone,” under which money was supposed to have been concealed. This stone had upon it the resemblance of that draught which is commonly called the walls of Troy. It is to be feared some avaricious person has destroyed this stone, in the hope of finding the hidden treasure, because it is not now to be found.

But never fear!! I give you – the Penny Stone! Undestroyed and intact. Complete with Walls of Troy maze. (Not sure who Mr Symson was yet).

p332 in the ‘New Statistical Account of Scotland’ for Kirkcudbrightshire. Vol 4, 1845.

According to the OED, ‘Hallion’ or ‘Hallyon’ is “A term of contempt: A low or scurvy fellow; an idle, worthless fellow,” and is dialect from Scotland and the north of England.

The Reverend James Raine (who edited the memoirs mentioned below) didn’t want to go for the Druidic explanation, and dug out a copy of the Newcastle Courant of 9 October 1725 in an effort to dispel the myth:

It appears from this authority that upon the marriage of Sir William Blackett (a while before) “Shaftoe Vaughan, Esq. caused Shafto Craggs to be illuminated in the night,” and “a large Punch Bowl was cut in the most elevated rock, which was filled with such generous liquor as was more than sufficient for the vast crowd of neighbouring inhabitants,” &c.

As far as I’m concerned it’s the ‘a while before’ that gives this away – sounds like just another folklorey explanation for the ‘Punch Bowl’ if you ask me.

To add to Paulus’s post about the mound, Mr Watkins obviously thought this part of a ley:

Motoring into Linton, Herefordshire, I found the road sighted through that church to May Hill in the distance. On the map this alignment lay on a stretch of ancient road called The Line, with a house on it called The Line House. Sighted backward, the alignment goes through the edge of Lynders Wood, on to a sighting mound standing at the end of Capler Camp, from which I had noted that May Hill was a prominent object. Not far away was a place called Lea Line. [..]

.. It is curious that sceptics accept that fact when the sighted line over points was made by the Roman race, but refuse to entertain any possibility of other races having preceded them in such work..

From Notes and Queries, p62, July 28, 1928.

The Bawdstone is mentioned in ‘Twilight of the Celtic Gods’ by David Clarke and Andy Roberts (1996).

In the past, the stone was the focus of an extraordinary procession on the morning of 1 May, the festival of Beltane, which marked the beginning of summer. Dozens of people, some helping sick and infirm relatives, would follow a well-worn path from the market town of Leek and villages round about, travelling by foot many miles to the rock escarpment. Here they would crawl beneath the Bawdstone ‘to knock the Devil off their backs’.

The authors’ contact knew a man in his 80s who’d visited the stone in secret when he was sick. The big gatherings ceased at the turn of the century.

They also say: “In 1879 a writer.. described how the boulder was always whitewashed ‘with some ceremony’ on the morning of 1 May.” The farmer who owned the land continued the tradition until the 1920s.

About a mile and a half from [Stoke Edith] Mansion, on the south-west, and ocupying the summit of a commanding eminence, is St Ethelbert’s Camp, said, by popular tradition, to be the spot where Ethelbert pitched his tents when on his journey to the Court of King Offa.*

p590 of ‘The Beauties of England and Wales’ v6 (1805).

The Herefordshire on-line SMR says that the Ordnance survey first changed the name on the map to ‘Backbury’ in 1926. Landslides have obscured the defences in places.

*Sadly that was where he met his fate, at Sutton Walls.

About four miles north-eastward from Hereford, is Sutton Walls, celebrated as the Palace of Offa, King of the Mercians, where the unsuspecting Ethelbert was treacherously murdered..

Giraldus Cambriensis, in his life of St. Ethelbert, speaks of this place by the name of King’s Sutton, and South-town Walls, and mentions some ruins of a Castle which he saw here. Leland also notices the “notable ruines of some auncyent and great building, sumtyme the mansion of King Offa, at such time Kenchestre stood, or els Herford was a begynning.”

Sutton Walls comprehends a spacious Encampment on the summit of a hill, surrounded by asingle rampart, with entrances to the north and south. The area includes about thirty acres, and is nearly level, excepting towards the centre, where there is a low place, called Offa’s Cellar: in digging on this spot, a silver ring, of an antique form, was found some years ago.

Sutton is included in the extensive manor of Marden, which was an ancient demesne belonging to the Crown, but given by King Offa to the Canons of Hereford.. in expiation of the murder of Ethelbert. Marden Church was built over the spot where Ethelbert was first buried, and where a well, which still exists, and is called St. Ethelbert’s Well, is said to have miraculously sprung up. This edifice was dedicated to his memory, and stands within forty yards of the river Lugg. This neighbourhood abounds with good orchards, and the cyder is particularly celebrated.

The Beauties of England, v6, by John Britton etc. (1805)

The original Celts, or axes, are of polished stone, shaped something like a wedge. These are found of all sizes, some seeming intended for felling trees, and others for warlike purposes; and others again so very small, that they could only be designed for carving or dividing food..

They have been found in considerable numbers in the Shetland Isles, which were evidently first settled by the scandinavians. The natives suppose them to be thunderbolts, and account the possession of one of them a charm. Mr Collector Ross of Lerwick presented the author of this Introduction with six of these weapons found in Shetland. It is said the stone of which they are constructed cannot be found in these islands. The natives preserve them, from a superstitious idea that they are thunderbolts, and preserve houses against the effects of lightning.

page vii in vol 2 of ‘The Border Antiquities of England and Scotland’ by Walter Scott, Luke Clennell and John Greig (1817).

The cave is also connected with Fingal:

Fion-gal is said to have made Arran his resting-place when en route to the assistance of his allies in Ireland. He landed with his followers in a few rude birlings in the fine natural harbour of Mauchrie, and resided in the cave of Drumidoon.

On his return from Ireland he spent a considerable time in Arran roaming through its forests with his favourite dogs. It was about this time that a son was born to him in the Doon cave. A straight groove is shown in the sandstone, of about two feet in length, which is believed to have been the exact size of the child’s foot the day after his birth. From this infallible datum, the Rev. Mr Headrick has computed that Fion-gal must have been from seventy to eighty feet in height, and his wife from sixty to seventy!

The gigantic proportions of Ossian’s hero are futher attested by the tradition, that he formed a bridge of stepping-stones between his cave and the opposite coast for the convenience of himself and his followers.

p97/8 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

The next fort we meet in our ramble is that of Tor-Castle – Castle Hill – a little to the north of Slaodridh [..]

It is said that a battle was fought long ago around the Tor-Castle, between the natives of Arran and a band of marauders from Kintyre. The Arran men were encouraged to victory by the cheers of their wives and children, who crowded the Clappen Hill to witness the conflict. After a desperate struggle the invaders were repulsed, and forced to seek safety in their ships.

Tor-Castle is further remarkable for the existence of ancient plough-marks, popularly known as elf-furrows, which are clearly traceable over it summit. Tradition relates that the rich black mould of the mound tempted the natives to reduce it to cultivation. This was many years ago, when the old rig system of farming obtained in the Island.

The lands of the neighbourhood were partitioned between twelve families, each of which claimed a rig of the Castle Hill. The mound was cleared of the rich verdure which mantled its surface, and drills of cabbages were planted within the ruined walls. But a signal retribution followed the commission of this daring sacrilege. Before the year closed, the children of the hamlet were fatherless, and eleven new graves were seen in the little church-yard of the district.

The villager who escaped had been called to another part of the Island when the old building was being turned into a household garden, and thereby avoided the doom which befell his companions. The people of Arran still regard the old fortlet with a superstitious dread, and he is thought to have a bold heart who will venture to disturb its ruins or visit them after nightfall.

p82 of ‘The antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

In Arran, the belief in fairies still lingers in the minds of the older inhabitants, and many curious stories are told of the pilfering habits and cunning tricks of the wee-folks, who held their midnight meetings within the stone circles and old forts of the Island.

Many of the minor relics of the stone period have been found beneath the moss and heath of the Arran glens and hills, but few of them have been deemed worthy of preservation. Arrow-heads of stone and flint are frequently picked up by the natives whilst digging peat in the moors [..] They are called elf-shots by the Islanders, and are supposed to have been used by the fairies long ago.

[..] As we find the little flint arrow-head associated with Scottish folk-lore as the elfin’s-bolt, so the stone hammer of the same period was adapted to the creed of the Middle Ages. The name by which it was popularly known in Scotland, almost to the close of the last century, was that of the Purgatory Hammer [.. so the inhabitant of the burial cist could] with it thunder at the gates of purgatory..

McArthur also talks of the highly polished stone balls found in cists and the “Baul Muluy” (the stone globe of Saint Monlingus): a goose-egg sized stone of jasper, which could cure diseases. People swore solemn oaths on it, and “even during the present generation it has been consulted by the credulous Islanders”. Curiously it could remove ‘stitches from the sides of sick persons’ and if it didn’t cure you and you died, “it moved out of bed of its own accord.”

St Molingus was said to have been chaplain to the McDonalds, and they carried the ball with them into battle for good luck. It was next held by the MacIntosh family as a hereditary privelege, but “this curious relic was lost a few years ago by a gentleman to whom it was entrusted, who partook too much of the scepticism of the present age to appreciate its value.”

A final bit of related folklore: “The perforated pebbles of the British barrows [..] are still known in the Scottish Highlands by the name of Clach Bhuai , or the powerful stones, on account of the inherent virtues they are believed to possess.”

From p68-71 of ‘The antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

The superstitions of the Arran people are deeply imbued with the legends of fairy mythology. The perforated column of “Fion=gal’s Cauldron Seat,” on the Mauchrie Moor, was believed to contain a fairy or brownie, who could only be propitiated by the pouring of milk through the hole bored in the side of the stone.

p67 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ (1861) by John McArthur.

John McArthur says in his 1861 ‘Antiquities of Arran’, that

“At Kingscross, on a hillock near the shore, there is a monolith which marks the spot from which King Robert the Bruce embarked for the Carrick coast; and in a neighbouring field, there is an unhewn block of sandstone, believed to be the sole relic of the rude cot in which the king resided, on the eve of his departure from the Island.”

The RCAHMS record won’t commit itself, mostly because the stone has become surrounded by a cairn of stone. The Name Book of 1864 suggests the stone stood alone at 6-7ft high, but now (or at least, in 1977) only 80cm shows out the top of a cairn. “It is possibly a Bronze Age standing stone to which a later tradition is attached, but in its present state this is conjectural.”

An interesting group of stone circles may be seen in the Mauchrie Moor, near the farm of Tormore, in Arran. Tradition relates that Fionn-gal and his heroes were hunting the boar in the woods on the neighbouring glens, when a fleet of Norse galleys was seen approaching the shore. Scarcely had the marauders succeeded in effecting a landing in the Mauchrie Bay, when they were attacked by Fion-gal and his followers, and driven back to the ships. A few of the Vikings whose retreat had been cut off were chased over the Island, overtaken and slain near the old fort of Dunfiun – Fion-gal’s fort. The Fingalian heroes who fell in the conflict were buried in the moor where they fought and died, and the huge stone columns, now half-concealed amid the tall heath, were raised in circles around their graves to the mournful song of the bards.*

*Local tradition.

From p50 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

Maybe this isn’t the right spot – I’m assuming it is because it’s high ground near Shiskine, and a fort is the right kind of place for fairies to hang out being antisocial.

Once upon a time a bevy of faeries met on the summit of Durra-na-each, near Shiskin, and proceeded to amuse themselves by throwing down pebbles amongst the trees of the Mauchrie forest. The “rules of the game” required that the stones should be thrown from between the finger and thumb. Many centuries have passed since then, and the giant oaks of the Mauchrie have crumbled into dust, but over the moor may still be seen the pebbles of the faeries in the gray monoliths and stone circles which lie buried in the moss and heath.

p40 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

Near the celebrated stone circles on Mauchrie Moor, Arran, there is a cairn, partly demolished, which Fion-gal, the hero of Highland tradition, is said to have used as his justice-seat; and the stone, beside which the culprit stood – a huge block of red sandstone, is pointed out as the “Panel’s Stone.”

p30 of John McArthur’s ‘Antiquities of Arran’ (1861).

I wonder which monument this applies to. It can’t be Fingal’s Cauldron Seat, surely, as simultaneously dishing out justice would give you indigestion. Perhaps this is the Panel Stone?

This place sounds very interesting. It is a cave on the coast in a sandstone cliff, and is full of carvings – animals, concentric circles, cup and rings, serpents, a coat of arms.. The RCAHMS record says “an Iron Age date is suggested for the animal figures” (this is a comment from 1961).

It gets a mention in the ‘Statistical Account of Scotland’:

There are several natural caves, the principal, and which excites the curiosity of strangers of all ranks, is [..] called the King’s Cove, because, as tradition affirms, King Robert de Bruce and his retinue lodged in it for some time, when taking shelter in retired places, before his defeat of John Baliol, and accession to the throne of Scotland [..]

The cave is so spacious, that sermons have been preached in it to some hundreds of hearers at different times. About 2 miles south from it is another cave, which could contain 200 persons; but nothing else is remarkable about it.

Ah it’s the carvings that pull in the crowds you see. The RCAHMS record mentions that Pennant in 1772 called the cave ‘Fingal’s Cave’, maybe suggesting that the folklore about Robert the Bruce is actually later? confusingly though, the cave is at the foot of a mountain called Torr Righ Mor – which means`big hillock of the king’.

Amongst the carvings are ogham inscriptions and a cross – traditionally the caves were supposed to have been used by early Christian hermits.

There’s a LOT of carvings, from every era up to the present day. It’s not obvious what’s currently believed about the I. A. date. Lots of description here:
lmid1.rcahms.gov.uk/pls/portal/newcanmore.details_gis?inumlink=39229
I’m most surprised it doesn’t have its own website?

On the bank of the Slidry stream, to the south of Arran, there is an elongated, ship-like cairn, exactly similar to the celebrated currach mound of Iona. It is thirty feet in length, with a smaller ridge attached, measuring nine feet. The sides of the tumuli are trenched with flat, flag-like stones, and at each end there stands a large monolith of red sandstone, encrusted with lichen and moss.

This monument is supposed to mark the grave of one of Fion-gal’s heroes, about whom many strange stories are told. An anxious treasure-seeker who dug into the larger mound, is said to have found a huge bone, into the hollow of which he thrust down his foot and leg as into a boot.*

*Headrick’s Arran, p148.

Headrick was writing in 1807: a book called ‘View of the Mineralogy, Agriculture, Manufactures and Fisheries of the Isle of Arran’.

It sounds like the cairn suffered a lot in the 19th century. The RCAHMS record suggests remains still exist (though the name “couldn’t be confirmed locally” in 1977).

At Torlin, on a green bank near the shore, there is an interesting specimen of the “elongated” chambered cairn. It is intersected from east to west by a row of vaults, consisting each of six unhewn slabs, from five to eight feet square. These vaults or chambers were filled with human bones, some of which, we were informed, were cleft as if from the blow of an axe or hatchet.

This cairn was partially removed some years ago by a modern Goth, who rifled the cells of their contents, and strewed them over his field. With daring irreverence, he selected one of the largest skulls from the ghastly heap, and carried it home with him; but scarcely had he entered his house when its walls were shaken as if struck by a tornado. Again and again the avenging blast swept over his dwelling, though not a sigh of the gentlest breeze was heard in the neighbouring wood.

The affrighted victim hastened to re-bury the bones in their desecrated grave, but day and night shadowy phantoms continued to haunt his mind and track his steps, and a few months after the commission of his rash deed, whilst riding along the high road towards Lag, he was thrown from his horse over a steep embankment, and dashed against the rocks of the stream beneath.

This tradition is well known in Arran, and has tended to deepen the feelings of superstitious dread with which these monuments are generally regarded.

It was with some feelings of trepidation, after listening to this fearful tragedy, that we proceeded to remove the stones and earth which filled the rifled cells of this ghost-haunted cairn; but a few marine shells, mixed with the small delicate bones of birds, were all we could discover to repay our labour.

p23 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

The traditions.. which float around this class of the Arran grave mounds [chambered cairns] are associated with the fierce raids and clanish feuds of early times; and it is said that the ghosts of the buried dead were wont to rise from their graves and renew the combat in the shadowy folds of the evening mists.

From p22 of ‘The Antiquities of Arran’ by John McArthur (1861).

A little bit more on the boltstone:

In the midst of enclosures, and remote from public view, stands that curious vestige of antiquity, The Bolt, Baston, or Battle-stone, in the language of tradition, The Giant’s Thunderbolt; supposed to have been hurled from its native rock, the Edge, about a mile distant, by gigantic prowess..

..Dr. Plot* describes the pillar as “of a square figure, tapering a little towards the top, two yards and one inch high, and nearly four yards about,; having two clefts in the top, so that at a distance it appears like a triceps; its site in a leasow near to the Comptons.”

On personally surveying this relick, 1818, it appeared to be about five feet above the ground, a by-stander observed, that it was three times that depth in the ground, and that no effort had succeeded in attempting to loosen it.

p337 in Stourbridge and its vicinity, by William Scott (1832).

Three times. Let’s go for something believable, please.
The Rudston stone (and doubtless many others) has a similar subterranean rumour.

*From Plot’s 1686 ‘Natural History of Staffordshire’.

Dowan’s Hill is a fort with double ramparts. It gets a mention in Robert Burns’ poem “Halloween”:

Upon that night when fairies light
On Cassillis Downans dance
Or owre the lays in splendid blaze
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the rout is ta’en
Beneath the moon’s pale beams;
There up the cove, to stray and rove
Amang the rocks and streams.

Burns wrote in a 1787 letter: “In my infant and boyish days too, I owed much to an old maid of my Mother’s, remarkable for her ignorance, credulity and superstition. --She had, I suppose, the largest collection in the county of tales and songs concerning devils, ghosts, fairies, brownies, witches, warlocks, spunkies, Kelpies, elf-candles, dead-lights, wraiths, apparitions, cantraips, giants, inchanted towers, dragons, and other trumpery.
--This cultivated the latent seeds of Poesy; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look-our in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more sceptical in these matters than I, yet it often takes an effort of Philosophy to shake off these idle terrors.”

found in Robert Burns’ Satires and the Folk Tradition: “Halloween”
Butler Waugh
South Atlantic Bulletin, Vol. 32, No. 4. (Nov., 1967), pp. 10-13.

Remarking to a gentleman, that I had gleaned up some anecdotes relative to Oswald, he asked me, if I had seen Old Oswestry, where he assured me the town formerly stood? I, with a smile, answered in the negative.

He told me, with a serious face, “that the town had travelled three quarters of a mile, to the place where it had taken up its present abode.” This belief, I found, was adopted by all I conversed with...

.. I could not pass this place without as strict an examination as could be expected from a man of seventy-four, who was to climb and descend a number of ramparts, each thirty or forty feet high, while up to the chin in brambles..

.. when I had made my observations, I retreated to the possessor, to collect what traditionary knowledge I was able. He told me that they had found something like a well in one place, where, he supposed, they hid their treasure; a pavement in another, which, he concluded, was to prevent the horses injuring the ground; and pieces of iron, which, he supposed, were pieces of armour.

That, about thirty years ago, as much timber was cut down from the ramparts as sold for seventeen thousand pounds, which proves them to be extensive; that the proprietor could trace two falls prior to this, which must take up the compass of perhaps five hundred years; but how many before these, were hid in time.

p45/46 of ‘Remarks upon North Wales’ by William Hutton (1803).

Lilla Howe is said to be the grave of King Edwin of Northumbria’s minister, Lilla. An assassin had been sent to kill the king, but loyal mate and Christian, Lilla leapt in front of the poisoned sword blade. He was buried where he fell. Edwin renounced his heathen ways and became a Christian. A cross – Lilla Cross – was erected on the howe.

Really Lilla was around in the 8th century, whereas the cross is thought to be 10th century – and of course, the mound was originally built in the Bronze Age. But don’t let this distract you from a good story.

Whatever, it’s been an important part of the landscape and the way people interpret the landscape, for a very long time. It’s on the junction of two medieval packhorse tracks, and also marks the boundary between four medieval parishes.

The cross has been moved about, but this is its original spot – it was mentioned in a 11thC manuscript as a boundary marker. The barrow itself was reused for burials in Anglo Saxon times and finds from that era have turned up in excavations.

(info largely from the sm record on Magic).

Saint Carannog had had a busy time in Ireland, “converting districts of Irishmen against the wishes of the companies of magicians”, after which he went back to Ceredigion. He lived at Llangrannog – you can see his cave, and apparently there’s a chair-like rock there called ‘Eisteddfa Carannog’. He was very busy doing miracles there too, “which no-one can enumerate”, so Jesus gave him a present:

.. an honourable altar.. the colour of which no person could comprehend; and afterwards when [Carannog] came to the Severn to sail over it, he cast the altar into the sea, and it went before him where God wished him to go.

In those times, Cato and Arthur lived in that country, dwelling in Dindrarthou; and Arthur went about that he might find out a very powerful, large, and terrible serpent, which laid waste twelve parts of the land Carrum; and Carannog came, and saluted Arthur, who rejoicing, received his blessing from him.

Well, Carannog asked Arthur if he’d seen his altar anywhere. Arthur was remarkably cheeky and said he wanted paying for it – Carannog should fetch the sepent first. So Carannog had a pray and “immediately the serpent came with a great noise, running as a calf to its dam.” It bowed its head humbly. Carannog popped his robe round its neck (which was the thickness of a seven-year-old bull’s) and the serpent trotted along with him to the castle – “it did not raise its wings or claws.”

The people in the castle wanted to kill it – but Carannog wouldn’t let them, as he said it showed the power of God to them. There’s a touching scene at the end, like something off Animal Hospital: “And afterwards he went without the gate of the castle, and loosed it, and in its departing, he commanded that it should hurt no one, nor return any more; and it injured none as God had commanded.”

But back to the altar – which Arthur was trying to use as a table! “But whatever was put thereon, was thrown off to some distance,” so it was no use anyway. Carannog was allowed to build a church where it had landed, and then he popped the altar back in the sea, where it sailed off to Guellit, and he built another church there.

Carannog gets lots of variation in his name – St Carantoc, for example. And so does Dindraithou, Din Draithou, Caer Draithou, Caer Ddraitou.. this is said to be Dunster. But surely, SURELY this would be Bats Castle. Because Dunster castle was only built in Norman times and as any fule kno, King Arthur was around long before that.

Quotes from ‘Lives of the Cambro British Saints’ by Thomas Wakeman and William Jenkins Rees (1853) p398-99, which is online at Google Books.

On the lands of Monaltry, and on the north bank of the river Dee, in a narrow pass where there is not above sixty yards from the river to the foot of a high, steep, rocky hill, stands a cairn, known by the name of Carn-na-cuimhne, or cairn of remembrance. This is the watch word of the country. In former times, the moment the alarm was given that danger was apprehended, a stake of wood, the one end dipped in blood, and the other burnt, as an emblem of fire and sword, was put into the hands of theperson nearest to where the alarm was given, who immediately ran with all speed, and gave it to his nearest neighbour, whether man or woman; that person ran to the next village or cottage, and so on, till they went through the whole country; upon which every man instantly laid hold of his arms and repaired to Cairn-na-cuimhne. The stake of wood was called Croishtarich. At this day, were a fray or squabble to happen at a market or any public meeting, such influence has this word over the minds of the country people, that the very mention of Cairn-na-cuimhne would, in a moment, collect all the people of this country who happened to be present, to the assistance of the person assailed.

From the Statistical Account of Scotland, v14, p351-2.

Ghostly drumming, from Gordon’s History of Scots Affairs, from 1638 to 1641, vol i, pp56-68 (1841):

That country is hilly and mountainous, and there is a hill, distant about a mile westward from the manor place of Eycht: the hill bears the name of Duneycht, (or, to write it truly, Dun Picte). Up on the top of this swelling hill.. there are to be seen old ruined walls and trenches, which the people, by a received tradition, affirm to have been built at such a time as the Picts were masters of Marre.

Upon the top of this said hill of Duneight, it was, that, for the space of all the winter [of 1637/8], almost every night, drums were heard beating about four o’clock, the parade or reteering of the guards, their taptoos, their reveilles, and marches, distinctly. And ear witnesses, soldiers of credit, have told me that, when the parade was beating, they could discern when the drummer walked towards them, or when he turned about, as the fashion is for drummers, to walk to and again, upon the head or front of a company drawn up. At such times, also, they could distinguish the marches of several nations; and the first marches that were heard there was the Scottish march; afterward the Irish march was heard, then the English march.

But before these noises ceased, those who had been trained up much of their lives abroad in the German wars, affirmed that they could perfectly, by their hearing, discern the marches upon the drum of several foreign nations of Europe, such as French, Dutch, Danes, etc. These drums were so constantly heard, that all the country people next adjacent were therewith accustomed; and sometimes the drummers were heard off that hill, in places two or three miles distant..

Some gentlemen of known integrity and truth, affirmed that, near these places, they heard as perfect shot of canon go off as ever they heard at the Battle of Norlingen, where themselves, some years before, had been present.

And from ‘Douglas’s Description of the East Coast of Scotland’, p254 (1782):

..over [the Barmkin of Echt] which if tradition may be believed, many armies were seen, many drums heard, adn many an aerial bloodless battle fought, before the troubles in King Charles the First’s time.

These are quoted in the notes of ‘Illustrations of the Topography and Antiquities of the Shires of Aberdeen and Banff’ By Joseph Robertson (1847), which is on Google Books.