Rhiannon

Saint Angus really liked it here.

[He] is said to have come to the glen from the eastward, and to have been so much struck with its marvellous beauty that he blessed it. The remains of the stone on which he sat to rest are still visible in the gable of one of the farm buildings at Easter Auchleskine, and the turn of the road is yet called “Beannachadh Aonghais” (Angus’s Blessing).

From p83 of JM Gow’s (1887)
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7 – link below.

If the building’s still there, the stone probably will be too – the OS saw it at NN 5499 2071 when they checked in 1979. “This much weathered stone, locally associated with St Angus, is built into the top of the E gable end of a farm building.” (RCAHMS record).

There are lots of other stones with cupmarks or stories in the vicinity (including a rumoured stone circle and a ‘stone setting’, but the RCAHMS don’t seem to think these have much antiquity, when they can be tracked down).

Although this is apparently cupmarkless, it seems worthy of mention as is surrounded by other sites and helps complete the stoney folklore of the area?

Going still further east to the first turning of the road beyond the farmhouse of “Wester Auchleskine, and on the left-hand side, there used to be a large boulder with a natural cavity in its side, famous as a curing well for sore eyes. This stone was called “Clach nan sul” (the Stone of the Eyes). In 1878 the road trustees caused it to be blasted, as it was supposed to be a danger in the dark to passing vehicles. Its fragments were broken up, and used as road metal.

..It is said that money used to be left in the cavity by the patients, and my informant stated that people when going to church, having forgotten their small change, used in passing to put their hands in the well and find a coin; indeed, he had himself done so more than once.

Gow, J M (1887 )
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, p85.

The OS reported in 1968 that “the remains of this stone, considerably fractured and the natural cavity no longer evident, were pointed out by Mr Ferguson (D Ferguson, farmer, Auchleskine, Balquhidder) in the bank on the N side of the road. It is still known as ‘Clach nan sul’ (Information from Mr Stewart MacIntrye, Stronslaney).” (from RCAHMS record)

Once on a market day a large number of armed Buclianans came over from Leny and quarrelled with the Maclaurins, the result being such a terrible conflict that only two of the Leny men escaped from the spot. The slaughtered Buclianans were thrown into a pool of the Balvaig River adjoining, and that part of the river is to this day called ” Linn na Seichachan (the Linn of the Hides), where the corpses of the slain for a time stopped the course of the stream.

The two men who fled had only a short respite. They swam the river and made for home, but were pursued, one being overtaken and killed on the hillside about a mile from the market. A cairn marks the spot where he fell. The other, making for Strathyre, met his fate a little farther on, the spot being still known as “Stron-lenac,” the Leny Man’s Point).

This is the cairn then. The RCAHMS record says the OS visited it in the 1960s and described it as a low, grassed-over mound of stones, 3.0m in diameter and 0.3m high. “On top of this, a modern cairn, with many white stones, had been been erected. Whether or not this is a burial cairn could not be established but there are very strong local traditions agreeing with that by Gow”.

Story from Gow, J M (1887)
‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, 83-4.

According to the notes on the RCAHMS site, this standing stone is about 1.2m high, 0.9m broad and up to 40cm thick.

It is shaped like a wedge, with the edge to the east, and is famous in Balquhidder as the place where trials of strength took place. A large round water-worn boulder, named after the district, “Puderag,” and weighing between two and three hundredweight, was the testing stone, which had to be lifted and placed on the top of the standing stone. There used to be a step about 18 inches from the top, on the east side of the stone, on which the lifting stone rested in its progress to the top. This step or ledge was broken off about thirty years ago, as told to me by the person who actually did it, and the breadth of the stone was thereby reduced about 8 inches. This particular mode of developing and testing the strength of the young men of the district has now fallen into disuse, and the lifting-stone game is a thing of the past. A former minister of the parish pronounced it a dangerous
pastime. Many persons were permanently injured by their efforts to raise the stone, and it is said that he caused it to be thrown into the river, but others said it was built into the manse dyke, where it still remains. There were similar stones at Monachyle, at Strathyre, and at Callander, and no doubt in every district round about, but the man who could lift ” Puderag ” was a strong man and a champion.

J M Gow’s 1887 ‘Notes in Balquhidder: Saint Angus, curing wells, cup-marked stones, etc’,
Proc Soc Antiq Scot, 21, 1886-7, 84.

ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_021/21_083_088.pdf

It sounds like this site is a bit of a muddle now, and there won’t be much to see. It is honestly thought to have prehistoric roots though:
rcahms.gov.uk/pls/portal/newcanmore.details_gis?inumlink=5140

The burn of Invernauld, and the hill of Durcha, on the estate of Rose hall, are still believed to be haunted by fairies who once chased a man into the sea, and destroyed a new mill, because the earth for the embankment of the mill-dam had been dug from the side of the hill. The hill of Durcha is also the locality assigned for the following tale:-

A man whose wife had just been delivered of her first-born set off with a friend to the town of Tain to have the child’s birth entered in the sessions-books, and to buy a cask of whiskey for the christening fete. As they returned, weary with a day’s walk [..] they sat down to rest at the foot of this hill, near a large hole, from which they were ere long astonished to hear a sound of piping and dancing. The father, feeling very curious, entered the cavern, went a few steps in, and disappeared. The story of his fate sounded less improbable then than it would now, but his companion was severely animadverted* on, and when a week elapsed, and the baptism was over, and still no signs of the lost one’s return, he as accused of having murdered his friend. He denied it, and again and again repeated the tale of his friend’s disappearance down the cavern’s mouth.

He begged a year and a day’s law to vindicate himself, if possible, and used to repair at dusk to the fatal spot, and there call and pray. The term allowed him had but one more day to run, and, as usual, he sat in the gloaming by the cavern, when what seemed as his friend’s shadow passed within it. He leant down, heard reel-tunes and pipes, and suddenly descried the missing man tripping merrily with the fairies. He caught him by the sleeve, stopped him, and pulled him out. “Bless me! why could you not let me finish my reel, Sandy?” cried the dancer. “Bless me!” rejoined Sandy, “have you not had enough of reeling this last twelvemonth?” “Last twelvemonth!” cried the other in amazement; nor could he believe the truth concerning himself till he found his wife sitting by the door with a yearling child in her arms. So quickly does time pass in the company of the “good people.”

p217-18 in
The Folk-Lore of Sutherland-Shire [Continued]
Miss Dempster
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 6, No. 4. (1888), pp. 215-252.

*Animadvert – meaning ‘To remark or comment critically, usually with strong disapproval or censure’. A new and useful word to me.

A local newspaper, in 1883 (Cornishman), gives the following:-
“Superstitions die hard. -- A horse died the other day on a farm in the neighbourhood of St. Ives. Its carcase was dragged on a Sunday away up to the granite rock basins and weather-worn bosses of Trecroben hill, and there burnt, in order to drive away the evil spell, or ill-wishing, which afflicted the farm where the animal belonged.”

On p195 of
Cornish Folk-Lore. Part III. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 3. (1887), pp. 177-220.

A lot of effort – so a deliberate effort to take it to a particular place? Or is it just that burning horses are very stinky.

..although an innocent baby held in the arms is thought in Cornwall to protect the holder from mischief caused by ghosts and witches, it has no power over [spriggans], who are not supposed to have souls.

This legend took place under Chapel Carn Brea on the old road from Penzance to St. Just in Penwith. The mother, Jenny Trayer by name, was first alarmed on her return one night from her work in the harvest field by not finding her child in its cradle, but in a corner of the kitchen where in olden days the wood and furze for the general open fires was kept. She was however too tired to take much notice, and went to bed, and slept soundly until the morning.

From that time forth she had no peace; the child was never satisfied but when eating or drinking, or when she had it dandling in her arms.

The poor woman consulted her neigbours in turn as to what she should do with the changeling (as one and all agreed that it was). On recommended her to dip it on the three first Wednesdays in May in Chapel Uny Well, which advice was twice faithfully carried out in the prescribed manner. The third Wednesday was very wet and windy, but Jenny determined to persevere in this treatment of her ugly bantling, and holding the brat (who seemed to enjoy the storm) firmly on her shoulders, she trudged off. When they got about half way, a shrill voice from behind some rocks was heard to say,
“Tredrill! Tredrill!
Thy wife and children greet thee well.”

Not seeing anyone, the woman was of course alarmed, and her fright increased when the imp made answer in a similar voice:
“What care I for wife or child,
When I ride on Dowdy’s back to the Chapel Well,
And have got pap my fill?”

After this adventure, she took the advice of another neighbour, who told her the best way to get rid of the spriggan and have her own child returned was “to put the small body upon the ashes pile, and beat it well with a broom; then lay it naked under a church stile; there leave it and keep out of sight and hearing till the turn of night; when nine times out of ten, the thing will be taken away and the stolen child returned.”

This was finally done, all the women of the village after it had been put upon a convenient pile “belabouring it with their brooms,” upon which it naturally set up a frightful roar. AFter dark it was laid under the stile, and there next morning the woman “found her own ‘dear cheeld’ sleeping on some dry straw” most beautifully clean and wrapped ina piece of chintz.
“Jenny nursed her recovered child with great care, but there was always something queer about it, as there always is about one that has been in the fairies power – if only for a few days.”

Bottrell being quoted on p183/4 of
Cornish Folk-Lore. Part III. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 3. (1887), pp. 177-220.

In the old abbey gardens at Tresco is a curious stone, about four feet long, two feet wide, and six inches in thickness, in an upright position. Near the top are two holes, one above the other (one being somewhat larger than the other), through which a man might pass his hand. It is supposed to be an old Druidical betrothal or wishing-stone, and used before the monks built the abbey at Tresco. Young people, engaged to be married, would pass their hands through the holes, and, joining them together, would so plight their troth. As a wishing-stone, or to break a spell, a ring woudl be passed through the holes with some incantations. – J.C. Tonkin’s Guide to the Isles of Scilly.

p40 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

Giants, of course, frequently played a great part in the history of Scilly. Buzza’s Hill, just beyond Hugh Town (St. Mary’s), commemorates a giant of the name of Bosow, who made his home on its summit (now crowned by a Spanish windmill), and from whom the family of Bosow were decended.

p40 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

On a hill near Veryan is a barrow, in which Gerennius, a mythical king of Cornwall, was said to have been buried many centuries ago, with his crown on his head, lying in his golden boat with silver oars. It was opened in 1855 when nothing but a kistvaen (a rude stone chest) containing his ashes was found. His palace of Dingerein was in the neighbouring village of Gerrans. A subterranean passage, now known as Mermaid’s Hole, one day discovered when ploughing a field, was supposed to have led from it to the sea.

p30 in
Cornish Folk-Lore
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 1. (1887), pp. 14-61.

I can’t see Mermaid’s Hole on the map, so be careful not to fall into it if it’s still there.

I know this is long, and it’s about a well, but maybe the bit that says “A small piece torn (not cut) from the child’s clothes was hung for luck (if possible out of sight) on a thorn...” isn’t something often quoted in your new age holy well books. Might be something to think about at the Swallowhead Springs for example. Or will it just become a different type of geotrashing.

In East Cornwall they have a custom of bathing in the sea on the three first Sunday mornings in May. And in West Cornwall children were taken before sunrise on those days to the holy wells, notably to that of St. Maddern (Madron) near Penzance, to be there dipped into the running water that they might be cured of the rickets and other childish disorders. After being stripped naked they were plunged three times into the water, the parents facing the sun, and passed round the well nine times from east to west. They were then dressed, and laid by the side of the well to sleep in the sun; should they do so and the water bubble it was considered a good sign. Not a word was to be spoken the whole time for fear of breaking the spell.

A small piece torn (not cut) from the child’s clothes was hung for luck (if possible out of sight) on a thorn which grew out of the chapel wall. Some of these bits of rag may still sometimes be found, fluttering on the neighbouring bushes. I know two well-educated people who in 1840, having a son who could not walk at the age of two, carried him and dipped him in Madron well, a distance of three miles from their home, on the two first Sundays in May; but on the third the father refused to go. Some authorities say this well should be visited on the first three Wednesdays in May; as was for the same purpose another holy well at Chapel Euny (or St. Uny) near Sancred.

The Weslyans hold an open-air service on the first three Sunday afternoons in May, at a ruined chapel near to Madron-well, in the south wall of which a hole may be seen, through which the water from the well runs into a small baptistry in the south-west corner.

Parties of young girls to this day walk there in May to try for sweethearts. Crooked pins, or small heavy things, are dropped into the well in couples; if they keep together the pair will be married; the number of bubbles they make in falling shows the time that will elapse before the event.

Sometimes two pieces of straw formed into a cross, fastened in the centre by a pin, were used in these divinations. An old woman who lived in a cottage at a little distance formerly frequented the well and instructed visitors how to work the charms; she was never paid in money, but small presents were placed were she could find them. Pilgrims from all parts of England centuries ago resorted to St. Maddern’s well: that was fames, as was also her grave, for many miraculous cures.

p228-30 in
Cornish Feasts and “Feasten” Customs. [Continued]
M. A. Courtney
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 4, No. 3. (1886), pp. 221-249.

Look, I know it’s a well, but this has got a stone (kind of) connected with it. I just report these things. You’ll have to see if it’s still there, if you’re passing.

Welsh Folk-lore Items. -- At the Archaeological Association Congress at Tenby some interesting notes were given. The party having halted at Gumfreyston church it was noted that on the hillside, below the church, there is one of the holy wells which are not infrequent in Wales.

Some curious old customs connected with the parish were given in a paper prepared by Miss Bevan, from which it appears that within the last fifty years on Easter Day the villagers used to repair to a well called “the Pinwell,” and throw a crooked pin into the water. This was called “throwing Lent away.” The field in which this well is situate is called “Verwel”[..]

On Lammas Sunday little houses, called “Lammas Houses,” were set up on “corse.” They were made of sods, reeds, and sticks, and a fire was lighted inside them, and apples roasted, people paying a penny to go in and have a roasted apple.

At the bottom of the street, near the brook, is a large upstanding stone with a small round hole in the top, and there is a saying that until you have put your finger in this hole you cannot say you have been in St. Florence* church.

(*This is surely St Lawrence’s church.)
From Notes and Queries
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 2, No. 11. (Nov., 1884), pp. 348-351.

A Topographical Dictionary of Wales (S. Lewis, 1833), as quoted on the Genuki pages, mentions the ‘highly medicinal properties’ of the iron-rich springs, and the likelihood of Gumfreston being able to become a fashionable spot.
genuki.org.uk/big/wal/PEM/Gumfreston/index.html

Some more info and pics on the Cistercian Way pages, here
cistercian-way.newport.ac.uk/place.asp?PlaceID=123

More fairies at Castell Dinas Bran: Llandyn Hall is on the south-east slope of the hill.

Fairies under Trees.-- One of our readers has forwarded us an old document, dated Nov. 30th, 1817, containing a quaint description of a walnut tree of extraordinary dimensions. It grew on a rock of limestone at Llanddyn Farm, near Llangollen; its height was about twenty-five yards, and its boughs covered a space of ground about thirty yards diameter. According to a story in the neighbourhood, this tree was very old. A man 95 years of age said that he remembered a bough of it being broken by the snow when he was a child, and that his grandfather used to tell the family that, in olden times, fairies used in the dead of night to celebrate their marriages under this walnut tree. ---Shrewsbury Chronicle, 3 Nov. 1882. From
Notes and Queries
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 1, No. 3. (Mar., 1883), pp. 90-93.

Midway down the cliff, is a large cavern, the gloomy recesses of which are said in the traditions of the peasantry to be inhabited by Pixies, or Pisgies...

...The entrance to the cavern is by a natural arch, about twelve feet wide, and ten high: the passage continues nearly of the same dimensions for about twenty yards, when it suddenly diminishes to nearly six feet wide, and four high, and still decreasing in size, extends about fifteen yards further. Here it expands into a spacious chamber, which dividing into two parts, runs off in different directions; but the rock dropping, neither of them can be pursued to any great distance; though tradition asserts, that a dog put into one of them, came out at an aperture in Botter rock*, about three miles distant.

p102 /104 in The Beauties of England and Wales, by John Britton etc. 1803.

*This must be Bottor Rock, at SX 826 804

A vast number of places out of the Highlands still retain their Gaelic names, and it is interesting to understand them; for example, TINTOCK is the highest mountain in Lanarkshire; and the name has a meaning in Gaelic, “The house of the mist” (Tigh n’ to-ag); and a local rhyme shews that to be the true meaning of the name, which has no English meaning.

On Tintock tap there is a mist,
And in the mist there is a kist,
And in the kist there is a cup,
And in the cup there is a drap;
Tak up the cup and drink the drap,
And set the cup on Tintock tap.

There was a popular tale about this mountain which I failed to get; but a cup, with some mysterious drink, is common in Celtic traditions.

p351 of Popular Tales of the West Highlands By John Francis Campbell (1862).

In the eighth volume of the Archaeologia, is an account, by Mr. Hayman Rooke, of some ancient remains on Hathersage Moor, particularly of a Rocking-stone, twenty-nine feet in circumference; and near it, a large stone, with a rock-bason, and many tumuli, in which urns, beads, and rings, have been found. At a little distance he mentions observing another remarkable stone, thirteen feet, six inches in length, which appeared to have been placed by art on the brow of a precipice, and supported by two small stones. On the top is a large rock-bason, four feet, three inches in diameter; and close to this, on the south side, a hollow, cut like a chair, with a step to rest the feet upon. This, in the traditions of the country, is called Cair’s Chair [Carl’s Chair?]. Not far from this spot are also some Rocking-stones, “and of such a kind as seems plainly to indicate, that the first idea of forming Rocking-stones at all, was the appearance of certain stupendous masses, left by natural causes in such a singular situation, as to be even prepared, as it were, by the hand of Nature, to exhibit such a curious kind of equipoise.” (Munimental Antiqua, vol 1).

p477-478 of ‘The Beauties of England and Wales’ (1802).

When all the world shall be aloft,
Then Hallam-shire shall be God’s croft;
Winkabank and Temple-brough,
Will buy all England through and through.

Winkabank is a wood, upon a hill, near Sheffield, where there are some remains of an old camp. Temple-brough stands between the Rother and the Don, about a quarter of a mile from the place where these two rivers meet...

p235 of ‘A Provincial Glossary’ by Francis Grose (1811). Whatever it means.

On Pen Dinas, a very high and steep hill, near the bridge over the Rheidiol, is a large entrenchment, still in a good state of preservation, and where, Caradoc informs us, Rhys ap Grufydd, in 1113, encamped his forces, which, by a manoeuvre of the English, were enticed from the hill over the bridge, to besiege Aberystwyth castle, where they were surrounded and cut off almost to a man.

The tradition of the town attributes this entrenchment to the forces employed by Cromwell to beseige the castle.

p16 of ‘Excursions in North Wales’, ed. by John Hicklin, 1847. Online at google books.

A story about the circular churchyard. TP Ellis doesn’t believe its druidic roots either.

The church stands in the middle of a circular graveyard, one of the most perfect specimens of the type left to us.. ..The reason why it is circular is this. In olden times, the altar in a church was a very holy place indeed; more holy than it is generally regarded now, for people believed that, on the altars of the Church, Christ was, in the strictest literal sense of the word, actually present. That being so, anyone who claimed the protection of the altar, no matter what he had done, could not be touched. He was at once protected by the altar and by God from the vengeance of man, and round the sacred altar a circle was drawn, within which a man, so long as he remained within that circle, could claim sanctuary for seven years and seven days.

The graveyard at Llanelltyd was a sanctuary circle of the church, and the limits of the circle were settled in this way: the ploughman stood at the foot of the altar,with his arm outstretched, and, in his outstretched hand, he held the yoke of his plough-team. A plough team consisted of eight oxen, yoked two abreast, and the yoke extended from the front of the first couple to the end of the plough. Holding the yoke in his hand, the ploughman, no doubt with assistance, swept it round in a circle, and all land within that circle, which was called the “erw,” became holy ground. That is the origin of the phrase “God’s acre,” for “erw” means “acre.” It was the immediate circle of God’s protection, not of the dead, but of the living, however guilty.

People, I think rather fancifully, go a great deal further back than that in explaining the old Welsh circular graveyards. They associate them with the ancient stone-circles of the Druids, or whoever it was who made stone-circles.

Another object worthy of notice in the Llanelltyd church is an old stone, on the top of which there is incised a footprint, and underneath an inscription which reads in Latin, “The mark of Rhodri is on the top of this stone, which he placed there when he set out on a pilgrimage.” Nothing is known about Rhodri, for that or Rhydderch appears to be the name..

From chapter 9 of The Story of Two Parishes Dolgelley and Llanelltyd, by TP Ellis (1928)

From the Merioneth Local History Website / Merionnydd Gwefan Hanes Lleol:
rootsweb.com/~wlsmer2/DolgaLLan/llanchch.htm

Seems like there’s some confusion over the names.. Rhodri.. Kenric.. hmm.

Among the traditions attaching to megaliths and boulders a very common one is that they have been hurled to their place by giants, and crosses have been added by giants to this sport. The famous Hurle Stone at Chillingham, much famed for its circumambulatory ritual expressed in the jingling rhyme:

“Wind about and turn again,
And thrice round the Hurl Stane.
Round about and wind again,
Thrice round the Hurl Stane”

is actually a Christian cross. In this case the acquisition of the tradition may be due to the conformation of the shattered shaft which is pointed and inclines to the east, thus giving it “from a distance the look of a gigantic cross-bow bolt hurled here.“**

*Denham Tracts, ii, p142.
**History of Northumberland (Northumberland County History Committee) vol.xiv, 1935, pp323-4

In Pre-Christian Survivals in Connection with Crosses in the North of England
E. M. Guest
Folklore, Vol. 52, No. 3. (Sep., 1941), pp. 224-228.

So is the idea that it was a cross actually part of the folklore? To my untrained eye it seems more convincing crossbow bolt. And when a giant’s thrown it, you just know it’s a standing stone and not a cross shaft. Probably.

Abbotsbury Garland-Day Procession stopped. Chief Constable’s Apology to Parish Council.
The Daily Express of May 14, 1954, reported that the village constable of Abbotsbury had stopped the children’s Garland-Day Procession as it danced its way through the fishing village to the sea, on the ground that it was “begging” and was against the law. He also confiscated the collection amounting to £1 1s. 7 1/2d. The uproar reached Mr. John Fox-Strangways, Chairman of the parish council and son of the Earl of Ilchester, lord of the manor. He rang up a solicitor and said that the village would take steps to preserve its ancient and picturesque custom. The Thanksgiving Garland is blessed annually and thrown into the sea from whence comes their livelihood. In the evening the children put the Garland on its pole and again danced down to the sea, while the police were busy preparing a legal action.

The Times of May 20 announced that the Chief Constable of Dorset had expressed his sincere apologies for the “unfortunate occurrence” to the Abbotsbury parish council and said that the constable had acted on his own initiative, without the knowledge of the divisional superintendent. “It is no part of my policy to interfere with old village customs,” he stated. Mr. Fox-Strangways was authorised to take any necessary action to establish the legality of the Garland Day custom.

Proof that the Express has been complaining about Political Correctness for decades. p175 in Folk Life and Traditions
E. F. Coote Lake
Folklore, Vol. 65, No. 3/4. (Dec., 1954), pp. 172-175.

..I walked across to Criccieth Station; but on my way I was directed to call at a farm house called Llwyn y Mafon Uchaf, where I was to see Mr. Edward Llewelyn, a bachelor then seventy-six years of age. He is a native of the neighbourhood, and has always lived in it; moreover, he has now been for some time blind. He had heard a good many fairy tales.

.. He told me of a man at Ystum Cegid, a farm not far off, having married a fairy wife on condition that he was not to touch her with any kind of iron on pain of her leaving him for ever. Then came the usual accident in catching a horse in order to go to a fair at Carnarvon, and the immediate disappearance of the wife. At this point Mr. Llewelyn’s sister interposed to the effect that the wife did once return and address her husband in the rhyme, Os bydd anwyd arfy mab, &c.

From chapter three of
Celtic Folklore Welsh And Manx
by John Rhys
[1901] (online at the sacred texts archive).
sacred-texts.com/neu/cfwm/cf105.htm#page_44

Surely the fairies had something to do with the cromlech – it can’t be coincidence that the husband came from that farm?

The ‘usual incident’ is that the husband had tried to throw a bridle over his horse, but accidentally touched his fairy wife with it. The rhyme is some motherly advice for the children she’d left behind:
“If my son should feel it cold,
Let him wear his father’s coat;
If the fair one feel the cold,
Let her wear my petticoat.”

Just to the north east of the church, at ~SN101270 (there’s a public footpath to it from the road) is/was St Teilo’s Well. As Kammer’s added the area of the church, I won’t feel too guilty adding this. It is very long, and I have cut it down somewhat – but it’s such a popularly cited case (what with the alleged Celtic Head symbolism) that I thought it good to have the original account.

[The landlady of Llandeilo farm-house] told me of St. Teilo’s Well.. adding that it was considered to have the property of curing the whooping-cough. I asked her if there was any rite or ceremony necessary to be performed in order to derive benefit from the water. Certainly, I was told; the water must be lifted out of the well and given to the patient to drink by some member of the family: to be more accurate, I ought to say that this must be done by somebody born in the house. One of her sons, however, had told me previously, when I was busy with the inscriptions [at the church], that the water must be given to the patient by the heir, not by anybody else.

Then came my question how the water was lifted, or out of what the patient had to drink, to which I was answered that it was out of the skull. “What skull?” said I. “St. Teilo’s skull,” was the answer. “Where do you get the saint’s skull?” I asked. “Here it is”, was the answer, and I was given it to handle and examine.

I know next to nothing about skulls; but it struck me that it was a thick, strong skull*, and it called to my mind the story of the three churches which contended for the saint’s corpse. You all know it, probably: the contest became so keen that it had to be settled by prayer and fasting. So, in the morning, lo and behold! there were three corpses of St. Teilo – not simply one – and so like were they in features and stature that nobody could tell which were the corpses made to order and which the old one.

I should have guessed that the skull which I saw belonged to the former description, as not having been very much worn by its owner; but this I am forbidden to do by the fact that, according to the legend, this particular Llandeilo was not one of the three contending churches which bore away in triumpth a dead Teilo each. Another view, however, is possible: namely, that the story has been edited in such a way as to reduce a larger number of Teilos into three, in order to gratify the Welsh fondness for triads.

Since my visit to the neighbourhood I have been favoured with an account of the well as it is now current there [..] that the people around call the well Ffynnon yr Ychen, or the Oxen’s Well [..and] that the current story solves the difficulty as to the saint’s skull as follows:- The saint had a favourite maid-servant from the Pembrokeshire Llandeilo: she was a beautiful woman, and had the privilege of attending on the saint when he was on his death-bed. As his death was approaching, he gave his maid a strict and solemn command that at the end of a year’s time she was to take his skull to the other Llandeilo, and to leave it there to be a blessing to coming generations of men, who, when ailing, would have their health restored by drinking water out of it [..]

I would now only point out that we have here an instance of a well which was probably sacred before the time of St. Teilo: in fact, one would possibly be right in supposing that the sanctity of the well and its immediate surroundings was one of the causes of the site being chosen by a Christian missionary. But consider for a moment what has happened: the well-paganism has annexed the saint, and established a belief ascribing to him the skull used in the well-ritual. The landlady and her family, it is true, do not believe in the efficacy of the well, or take gifts from those who visit the well; but they continue, out of kindness, to hand the skull full of water to those who persevere in their belief in it.

In other words, the faith in the well continues in a measure intact, when the walls of the church have fallen into utter decay. Such is the great persistence of ancient beliefs; and in this particular instance we have a succession which seems to point unmistakeably to an ancient priesthood of this spring of water.

p75-77 of
Sacred Wells in Wales
John Rhys; T. E. Morris
Folklore, Vol. 4, No. 1. (Mar., 1893), pp. 55-79.

*In his Celtic Folklore, Welsh And Manx [1901] he says it was the ‘upper portion’ of the skull.

Some more details in the Transactions of the Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion (1892-3)l

This possibly refers to the stone-walled square holy well at SH242294, just called ‘Ffynnon Sant’ on Coflein.

Myrddin Fardd* [..] mentioned Ffynnon Cefn Lleithfan,, or the Well of the Lleithfan Ridge, on the eastern slope of Mynydd y Rhiw, in the parish of Bryncroes, in the west of Lleyn. In the case of this well it is necessary, when going to it and coming from it, to be careful not to utter a word to anybody, or to turn to look back. What one has to do at the well is to bathe the warts with a rag or clout which has grease on it. When that is done, the clout with the grease has to be carefully concealed beneath the stone at the mouth of the well. This brings to my mind the fact that I have, more than once, years ago, noticed rags underneath stones in the water flowing from wells in Wales, and sometimes thrust into holes in the walls of wells, but I had no notion how they came there.

*aka Dr John Jones. Myrddin was his ‘bardic’ name. From p61 of
Sacred Wells in Wales
John Rhys; T. E. Morris
Folklore, Vol. 4, No. 1. (Mar., 1893), pp. 55-79.

I suppose this chamber could well be the stones referred to in the story:

Hundreds of years ago they used to keep the Collection money in the Church. One time, thieves broke into Llanfaelrhys Church to steal the money. Somehow, while at their work they were seen by passers by, who went into the church. When the thieves saw this they fled for their lives and they were followed by their pursuers until they came to the top of Rhiw, there the thieves were caught, on the road by a place called Terfyn. After catching the thieves they killed them on the spot, that was the punishment in those days for thieving. The two were buried in Four Crosses Field, Rhiw, and to show where they were buried big stones mere placed on their graves and till today these stones are called Lladron Maelrhys, but few people know of them today. It’s a pity that old things become lost.

From “Recollections” by Rowland Willlams
Bryn Golau, Rhiw.
Written in April 1946, when he was 72 years old.
This is online at Rhiw.com, here:
rhiw.com/pobol/rowland_williams/rowland_willlam_03.htm

“A couple of tumuli near the Bay are called “Robin Hood’s Butts,” at which, it is stated, he exercised his men in archery.”
p114 in ‘A glossary of Yorkshire words and phrases collected in Whitby and the Neighbourhood. By An Inhabitant. 1855. You can read this on Google Books.

Robin Hood, or Robert Earl of Huntingdon, of whose exploits, at the head of his merry outlaws, all the world has heard, died in 1274. He is said to have been the founder of “Robin Hood’s Bay,” near Whitby. One day, standing on the top of Swarthoue, the highest tumulus in our vicinity, he resolved to build a town where his arrow should alight, which he then shot towards the coast where the maritime place above named, with its 1200 inhabitants, is now situated, although the distance direct across the country from Swarthoue is at least six miles!

p114 in ‘A glossary of Yorkshire words and phrases collected in Whitby and the Neighbourhood. By An Inhabitant. 1855. You can read this on Google Books.
The Inhabitant also mentions some stones of indeterminate age connected with Robin Hood, but maybe they’re gone now?

Robin Hood’s Pillars – two rude stones, between three and four feet high, a mile to the south of Whitby Abbey, which tradition asserts as marking the places where the arrows of Robin Hood and his mate Little John fell, on a trial of archery from the top of the abbey, after they had dined with the abbot. They are in separate fields, which are still called Robin Hood and Little John’s closes; but John outshot his master by a distance of one hundred feet, according to the position of the pillar assigned as his.

Little John outdoes Robin Hood? Good work there.

This round barrow was used as a base for a post mill at one time, according to the scheduled monument record. According to Leslie Grinsell’s source, “the late R. R. Clarke of Norwich Castle Museum”, this barrow on Belton Common was said to contain golden gates or a golden plough.
in Barrow Treasure, in Fact, Tradition, and Legislation
L. V. Grinsell
Folklore, Vol. 78, No. 1. (Spring, 1967), pp. 1-38.

Winterslow: tradition of golden coffin buried in the vicinity, which contains two of the largest barrows in the county (excluding Silbury). Information from the late J.F.S. Stone, 1951.

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

As you can tell, this might not be this Bronze age barrow that the folklore refers to – there are a large number of barrows in cemeteries to the north of the Winterslows. So you probably won’t find it. Just leave your metal detector at home please.

Hollingbury: hidden treasure, uncertain whether supposed to be concealed in the hill-fort or the barrows within it. See Sussex A. C. 75 (1934), 238.

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

Berwick St John, Winkelbury Hill: golden coffin said to be buried on this hill where there are several barrows. (Landlord of the Talbot Inn to L.V.G., 1951).

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

Hence I went to Mamme Torr, which is an high Mountain broken on one Side, of which the Tradition is, that the Earth continually falls down, yet is not the Hill any thing diminished, nor the Heaps of Earth below at all encreased.

I got as near as I could to the broken Side, but could not hear or see any such running down of the Earth; when there is Rain, the Water running down washeth away with it much of the Hill.

I was informed, that on the Top of this Mountain is an antient Roman Camp, encompassed with a double Trench, whereabout are sometimes found Store of antient Roman Medals.

p177 in ‘Select Remains of the Learned John Ray, with his Life’ by William Derham. Published 1760.
Online at Google Books.
John Ray’s journey to Mam Tor was made in 1658.

A later visitor didn’t believe the hype:

Mam-tor is a huge Precipice facing the East, or South-East; which is said to be perpetually shivering and throwing down great Stones on a smaller Mountain below it; and that nevertheless, neither the one increases, nor the other decreases in Bigness.

This Mountain is composed chiefly of a Sort of Slate-Stone (called in that Country Black Shale and great Stone. The Nature of the Black Shale is known to be, that notwithstanding it is very hard before it is exposed to the Air; yet it is afterwards very easily crumbled to Dust. Thus on any Storm, or melting of Snow, this Shale is considerably wasted; and as the great Stones are gradually disengaged, they must necessarily fall down.

That it is only at these Times that the Mountain wastes, is affirmed by the most intelligent of the neighbouring Inhabitants: And that this Decay is not perpetual, I can affirm myself; having not only taken a close Survey of it, but also climbed up the very Precipice, without feeling any other shivering in the Mountain, than what the treading of my own Feet in the loose crumbled Earth occasioned. That the Mountain does not decrease in the mean Time, is a Tale too frivolous to need any Consideration.

An Account of some Observations relating to Natural History, made in a Journey to the Peak in Derbyshire by Mr. J. Martyn, F.R.S. From the Proceedings of the Royal Society of London, 1753.

We ascended to the Top of that noted Hill, called Roseberry, or Ounsberry Topping, the Top whereof is fastigiate, like a Sugar Loaf, and serves for a Sea-mark. It may be seen at a great Distance, viz. from Stanmore, which is in a right Line above 20 Miles off.

From hence we had a Prospect of that pleasant and fruitful Vale, Part whereof is called Cliveland, a Country noted for a good Breed of Horses. The Ways here in Winter Time are very bad, and almost impassable, according to that proverbial Rhyme,

Cliveland in the Clay,
Bring in two Soles, carry one away.

Near this Hill we went to see a Well celebrated for the Cure of sore or dim Eyes, and other Diseases. Every one that washes in it, or receives Benefit by it, ties a Lacinia, or Rag of Linnen or Woollen, &c. on a Shrub or Bush near it, as an Offering or Acknowlegement.

From p176 of ‘Select Remains of the Learned John Ray, with his Life’ by William Derham. Published 1760.
Online at Google Books.

I think John Ray’s journey was made in 1661.

I only leave the first bit in because it might be funny if you know someone from Whitby.

The People of Gisburgh are civil, cleanly, and well-bred, contrary to the Temper of the Inhabitants of Whitby, who, to us, seemed rude in Behaviour, and sluttish.

In the Way from Whitby to Gisburgh, we passed by Freeburgh Hill,, which they told us was cast up by the Devil, at the Entreaty of an old Witch, who desired it, that from thence she might espy her Cow in the Moor.

From p177 of ‘Select Remains of the Learned John Ray, with his Life’ by William Derham. Published 1760.
Online at Google Books. I think John Ray’s journey was made in 1661.

There is an artificial mount, by the side of the road leading from North Burton to Wold Newton, near Bridlington, in Yorkshire, called “Willy-howe,” much exceeding in size the generality of our “hows,” of which I have often heard the most preposterous stories related.

A cavity or division on the summit is pointed out as owing its origin to the following circumstance:-

A person having intimation of a large chest of gold being buried therein, dug away the earth until it appeared in sight; he then had a train of horses, extending upwards of a quarter of a mile, attached to it by strong iron traces; by these means he was just on the point of accomplishing his purpose, when he exclaimed--

“Hop Perry, prow Mark,
Whether God’s will or not, we’ll have this ark.”

He, however, had no sooner pronounced this awful blasphemy, than all the traces broke, and the chest sunk still deeper in the hill, where it yet remains, all his future efforts to obtain it being in vain.

p92 in: The every-day book and table-book; or, Everlasting calendar of popular amusements. By William Hone, 1837, and now online at Google Books.

Addleborough. Concerning Addleborough Hill, where there are remains of a Druidical circle, it is asserted with perhaps more reason than rhyme --

“Druid, Roman, Scandinavia,
Stone raise on Addleboro’.”

Taken from an article called ‘Yorkshire Rhymes and Proverbs’ by Mr William Andrews, in Old Yorkshire v1 pp263-69, and reprinted in
Additions to “Yorkshire Local Rhymes and Sayings”
E. G.
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 1, No. 5. (May, 1883), pp. 164-165.

Pillesdon Pen is a remarkably high hill, a mile north from the village. On its easter limit, near the turnpike road leading from Broad Windsor to Furzemoor Gate and Lambart’s Castle, is a large and very strong Entrenchment, encompassed with a triple rampart and ditches, excepting on the eastern summit, where the natural ascent is so steep, as to have rendered the camp inaccessible. The form of this Camp is nearly oval, being adapted to the shape of the hill on which it stands.

Fuller, in his Worthies of England, mentions a proverbial saying current here;
“as much a-kin
As Lew’son Hill to Pil’son Pen;”
which was spoken of such as have vicinity without acquaintance.

The two hills are within a mile of each other, and form eminent sea marks: the seamen denominate one the Cow, and the other the Calf, from their imagined resemblance to those animals when beheld from a distance.

From p525 in The Beauties of England and Wales, Or, Delineations, Topographical, Historical, and Descriptive of each County. Vol 4. John Britton and Edward Wedlake Brayley, 1803. Online at Google Books.

On the hill to the south of this mansion [Creech Grange], a.. Phenomenon is recorded to have been observed.. This was the visionary semblance of a vast number of armed men, apparently several thousands, who appeared to be marching from Flower’s Barrow, over Grange Hill: at the same time a great noise, and clashing of arms, was supposed to be heard.

These appearances were observed on an evening in December, 1678, by Captain John Laurence, then owner of Grange, his brother, and “by all the people in the cottages and hamlets thereabouts, who left their supper and houses, and came to Wareham, and alarmed the town; on which the boats were all drawn to the north side of the river, and the bridge barricadoed [sic]. Three hundred of the militia were also marched to Wareham; and Captain Laurence and his brother went post to London, and deposed the particulars on oath before the Council.*

*Hutchin’s Dorset, Vol1 p327, ad Edit.
“I have in my possesion,” continues our author, “an original letter, written by Mr. Thomas Dolman, I suppose then clerk of the Council, dated December 14, 1678, directed to George Fulford, and Robert Cotton, Esqrs. Officers of the Militia, wherein he tells them, Mr. Secretary Coventry had communicated their letter of the 10th instant, touching the number of armed men, pretended to be seen in Purbeck, to the Lords of the Council, who commanded him to let them know, that they took in good part their care of putting themselves in a posture of defence; and that the contrivers and spreaders of this false news were ordered to be sent for, to be dealt with according to their deserts; and had not Captain Laurence and his family been of known affection to the Government, he would have been severely punished.

This phenomenon seems to have been owing to the thick fogs and mists that often hang on the hills in Purbeck, and form grotesque appearances of craggy rocks, and ruins of buildings. At this time the evening sun might glance on these, which, assisted and improved by a strong imagination, caused the spectators to fancy what never existed.”

Yeah but why would local people used to these fogs interpret them as soldiers? You’ll have to do better than that to convince me. From p401 of The Beauties of England and Wales, Or, Delineations, Topographical, Historical, and Descriptive of each County. Vol 4. John Britton and Edward Wedlake Brayley, 1803. Online at Google Books.

[Saint] Dyfnan is reputed to have been a son of Brychan Brycheiniog, but his name is not found in either version of the Cognatio. He is the patron of Llanddyfnan, in Anglesey, where he is buried, according to tradition.

You would imagine, due to the proximity of the church to the stone, that there would be a story to connect the stone with the saint. But I don’t know of one.. Surely there’s one out there somewhere.
p396 of Sabine Baring-Gould’s ‘Lives of the British Saints’, part 3. 1907

In describing the vitrified site of the Top of Noth in Strathbogie, Dr Hibbert speaks of “a lofty upright stone on the westerly flank of the hill, connected with which is a monstrous traditional story of its having been placed there by a giant, the print of whose heel in it is still visible.” Archaeologia Scotica, vol. iv. p.297.

Mentioned on p 82 of ‘Deliciae Literariae: A New Volume of Table-talk’, by Joseph Robertson, 1840. (online at Google Books)

The RCAHMS record describes this as a natural stone. A 1967 visit said it was a “large, much-weathered boulder, with a faint natural mark forming the outline of a boot print on its south face”.

A strange little anecdote, from “’A description of the parioches of Essie and Rhynie’ (circa A.D. M.DCC.XXX.)” (ie 1730):

The Top of Noth is a very remarkable hill here. It has a fountain on the very summit, without any current from it on the outside; but if a taper rod be put into the vein of the fountain, it comes forth, in twenty-four hours space, at a large issue at the foot of the hill, called Coul’s Burn, after being carried three miles under ground by the force of the current.
Here are monuments in several places, thought to be the remains of heathen superstition, though many other fabulous stories are told of them. [Though not at the moment, because this is where the anecdote cruelly finishes, sadly]

I wonder if this hillside Pooh-sticks is a local story, or sort of a Geologists’ story? Quite strange whichever way.
On page 178 of Antiquities of the Shires of Aberdeen and Banff. Second Volume.’ 1847. Readable online at Google Books.

This is from WD Simpson’s ‘Notes on Lulach’s Stone, Kildrummy’ (which is actually another stone of the same name):

On Green Hill, in the parish of Tough (O.S. 6 inches, Aberdeenshire, sheet Ixiii.), is a similar monolith, also called Lulach’s or Luath’s Stone; and the tradition attached to each pillar is that it marks the place where Lulach, stepson of Macbeth, was overtaken and killed after his father’s defeat and death at Lumphanan (15th August 1057). The historical facts about Lulach the Fatuous are briefly as follows. He was a son of Macbeth’s wife, Gruoch, by her previous husband, Gillacomgain, of the ancient house of Moravia, and himself a cousin of Macbeth. After Macbeth was defeated and killed by Malcolm Canmore, Lulach carried on his stepfather’s claims, but himself was killed at Essie, in Strathbogie, on 17th March 1058, and, like his stepfather, was buried in lona. Two sources aver that Lulach was killed by Malcolm in battle, but another says that he died by treachery.

From the April 12 1926 Proceedings of the Scottish Archaeological Society. Online here via the ADS:
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_060/60_273_280.pdf

..when the wind is easterly, the devil amuses himself with chasing Tregagle three times round Dosmary pool. After the third chevy, the wily giant makes off with all speed to Roche Rock, and thrusts his huge head into the chapel window, much as the ostrich is said to bury his neck.. but with this essential difference in the result, that the latter is still caught by his huntsman; while with the giant, the safety of his head guarantees the safety of his whole body, and Beelzebub has nothing left for it but to whistle off his pack and return bootless from the chase.

Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine. p21 in vol24 Jul-Dec, 1828.

Always beware of local people spinning a yarn. Could this be useful advice to visitors during the circus surrounding Silbury’s latest excavations?

[Around 1776 when the miners were excavating Silbury] a correspondent of the Salisbury Journal, with the intention of throwing ridicule on the undertaking, narrated [..] that some years previously a poor boy who was carrying a pitcher of milk along the high road at that spot, fell down and broke the vessel. A tailor, who lived at Avebury close by, met the boy lamenting his case just at the same moment that a carriage appeared in sight. He, therefore, directed him to shout out lustily in order to excite the compassion of the passengers, and advancing up to the coach himself, observed that the poor lad had but too much reason for his lamentations, for the urn which he had broken had but just before been exhumed by his father, and as a piece of antiquity was of such rare value, that Dr. Davis of Devizes would no doubt have given a guinea for it. This declaration so wrought upon the curiosity of the travellers, that after due examination of the fractured vessel, and a consultation as to the possibility of uniting the fragments, they agreed to give a crown for the article, and drove off with their prize. The tailor then gave the boy one shilling, and appropriated four to himself.

From ‘A History Military and Municipal of the Town of Malborough. James Waylen. 1854. p406.

Their name, as the Devil’s Arrows, seems to have originated from the following story, which we had related to us by an hoary headed individual living in Boroughbridge, when soliciting information as to their history:

“There lived a very pious old man {a Druid should we imagine} who was reckoned an excellent cultivator of the soil. However, during each season at the time his crops had come to maturity they were woefully pillaged by his surrounding neighbours; so that at this, he being provokingly grieved*, the Devil appeared, telling the old man if he would only recant and throw away his holiness he should never more be disturbed in his mind, or have whatever he grew stolen or demolished.

The old man, like Eve in the garden, yielded to temptation, and at once obeyed the impulse of Satan for the benefit of worldly gain. So when the old man’s crops were again being pillaged, the Devil threw from the infernal regions some ponderous arrows, which so frightened the plunderers by shaking the earth that never more was he harrassed in that way. Hence the name of the ‘Devil’s Arrows.’”

Another individual told me that it was believed by some that the stones sprung up one night in the very places they now occupy.

These opinions seem to be somewhat firmly fixed in the minds of the narrators. A superstition once imbibed is in many instances difficult to eradicate. However, we neither believe nor wish others to believe that they either sprung up in a single night, or were shot from a bow of Satan.

From the notes and queries section of ‘The Geologist’ for October 1860. Online at Google Books.

*one can only presume ‘being provokingly grieved’ means he was swearing a lot at this point, which attracted the Devil’s attention.

Some folklore, etymology, and an early C19th event/kneesup. According to the RCAHMS record, the cairn probably has prehistoric roots even if it has been added to since. At 45m diameter and an impressive 6m in height, it is one of the largest cairns in Scotland.

For miles [the river Clyde] winds along round the base of Tinto or Tintock hill..; on the summit of which is a large cairn, by tradition reported to have been thus erected by those who, as a penance, were compelled by the priests of St. John’s kirk, in Lanark, to carry so many stones to the top of the hill.

p266 of ‘The Church of England Magazine’ vol 17, 1844.

Tinto, it has often been said, signifies the hill of fire; but whether it was so called from the fires which were kindled on it at Beltane, or in the beginning of May, in honour of some tutelary deity, or on whatever other occasion, I do not presume to determine.

New Statistical Account of Scotland, v6 (1845) p518.

Teinne in the Galic means fire; and toich land, ground, territory, or tom a hill.

‘The Gentle Shepherd’, Allan Ramsey, 1808 v2 p480.

In the shire of Lanark is a remarkable insulated mountain, called Tinto..; upon which the return of peace was lately celebrated by an immense bonfire made of 50 loads of coal, and a large quantity of wood, at which several sheep were roasted whole. The fire was kindled at nine o’clock at night, and had a beautiful effect; as the Cairn of Tinto is seen from 17 counties, and from the Atlantic and German Oceans.

(this must refer to the end of the 1807-1814 Peninsular War?) From The Gentleman’s Magazine and Historical Chronicle. Jan-June, 1814, v84. p693.
All books found online at Google Books.

As FourWinds says in the associated forum posts – Yellowmead is surely all about the Tor that overlooks the site: Sheeps Tor (don’t blame me for the lack of apostrophe, blame the OS). And up on Sheeps Tor, naturally, there are pixies.

Amid [the ‘vast clatter of boulders’ on the side on which the village lies] is a narrow opening between two upright rocks, which will admit the visitor, though not without a little difficulty, into a small grotto, celebrated in local legend, and known as the Pixies’ Cave.

On entering the cleft we shall find that the passage, which is only a few feet in length, turns abruptly to the left, and we shall also have to descend a little, as the floor of the cave is several feet lower than the rock at the entrance. This turning leads immediately into the cave which we shall find to be a small square apartment capable of containing several persons, but scarcely high enough to permit us to stand upright. On our left as we enter is a rude stone seat, and in the furthest corner a low narrow passage, extending for some little distance, is discoverable.

According to a note in Polwhele’s Devon, this cavern became the retreat durng the Civil Wars of one of the Elford family, who here successfully hid himself from Cromwell’s soldiers, and it is related that he beguiled the time by painting on the rocky walls of the cavern, traces of the pictures remaining long afterwards, hut nothing of the sort is discoverable now [..]

The cave is rather difficult to find, and one might pass and re-pass the crevice which forms its opening, without ever dreaming that such a place existed there, so narrow does the entrance look. The clatter is a perfect wilderness of boulders, and stretches around to the eastern side of the tor, where the rocks rise perpendicularly, forming a precipice of great height.

As we stand at the entrance to the grotto we may look down upon the little village of Sheepstor and its church with sturdy granite tower, nestling in the sheltered combe, while the grey tor rises high behind us, exposed to all the buffetings of the wild moorland storm.

From chapter 1 of ‘Tales of the Dartmoor Pixies‘
by William Crossing [1890]. Online in full at the Sacred Texts Archive.
sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/tdp/tdp02.htm

When someone from RCAHMS visited in 1998, they found a low circle of stones here, 15m in diameter. It’s been recorded as a cairn, or possible stone circle.

The name.. signifies “The Mountain of the Wild Boar,” and the Cantire Highlanders tell the following legend in explanation of the name. Once upon a time, when this mountain was partly clothed with great forests, there lived among them a wild boar of enormous size and strength. He ravaged the country, wandering about for prey, and killing every man and beast that he met. For miles off he could be heard whetting his terrible tusks against the stately oaks, and people were afraid to pass that way, and had to drive their cattle to other pastures. The great hero Fingal came to Cantire, and was told of the wild boar’s ravages. Among his brave men there was a mighty hunter named Diarmid, of whom Fingal was jealous and wished to be rid; so to him was committed the dangerous task to slay the boar. Diarmid accepted the task with joy, and set out for the mountain. He entered the oak forest that then grew at its base, and soon got upon the track of the boar. He followed it through the brushwood and the thick hazels that gave to Caledonia its name, and presently heard the boar crunching the bones of a bullock. Diarmid sprang upon him with his spear, but it broke off short in the wild boar’s chest, and the beast, maddened with pain and savage anger, rushed upon him. Diarmid stept lightly aside, and the boar, in his blind fury, dashed his tusk against the hard trunk of an oak. Diarmid was instantly upon him with his sword, and plunged it in his bristly body up to the very hilt, and the boar rolled over and died.

Well, this is all very excitingly written but it is rather long, so I feel obliged to summarise the rest (which can be read in full on Google Books).
Diarmid got some help to drag the boar back to Fingal’s tent, and people started getting stones for the fire to cook it on, and cracking open the mead or whatever, for a bit of celebration. But Fingal wasn’t very happy to see Diarmid back, and one of his muttering supporters suggested there was something a bit funny about Diarmid, and that he was pretty invincible apart from one spot on him.. hmm.. so Fingal called Diarmid over and got him to measure the huge boar by treading across it barefoot.. and then back the other way – but now the stiff bristles of the boar pointed up and pierced his heel; and Diarmid bled to death.

In Glencreggan, by Cuthbert Bede (1861 – volume 2, p7 and onwards).
Perhaps the circle of stones could be where they cooked the boar. Though I expect people’s appetites were a bit spoilt by Diarmid’s demise.

In the churchyard stands a short square stone pillar, with the outline of a St John’s or Maltese cross rudely carved on it. From this as from a centre was measured in ancient times the sanctuary of Torphichen, which gave, at least, temporary protection to any person accused of crimes less than capital. Its limits were marked by four stones, each bearing the St John’s Cross, erected as near as might be on the cardinal points, east, west, north and south, each a Scotch mile from the central stone in the churchyard adjoining the preceptory. They all still occupy their original positions.

And do they too have cup marks? From p49 of the New Statistical Account of Scotland, v2, 1845.

You may think this stone looks like a mushroom. But actually it’s only the stone on top that counts – the rest of it is a plinth, made from the same type of stone in the early 19th century. RCAHMS sticks its neck out no further than to say the monument is classed as a ‘stone’. But one with a pedigree you have to agree – it’s been the source of Clackmannan’s name since at least the 13th century. [posts combined – TMA Ed.]

In Chamber’s Gazetteer of Scotland [1832?] we find the following interesting account of the origin of this name:- “At the east side of the quondam prison of Clackmannanshire lies a huge-shaped blue stone, which, having been broken into three pieces, is now bound with iron. This is a sort of burgal palladium or charter-stone, like the Clachnacudden of Inverness, the privileges of the town being supposed to depend, in some mysterious wy, upon its existence, on which account it is looked upon by the inhabitants with a high degree of veneration.

Its legendary history is curious. When King Robert Bruce was residing in Clackmannan tower, and before there was a town attached to that regal mansion, he happened, in passing one day near this way on a journey, to stop awhile at the stone, and, on going away, left his glove upon it. Not discovering his loss till he had proceeded about half-a-mile towards the south, he desired his servant to go back to the clack (for King Robert seems to have usually spoken his native Carrick Gaelic), and bring his mannan, or glove. The servant said, ‘If ye’ll just look about ye here, I’ll be back wi’t directly,’ and accordingly soon returned with the missing article.

From this trivial circumstance arose the name of the town which was subsequently reared about the stone, as also that of a farm at which the King stopped, about half-a-mile from the south, on the way to Kincardine, which took its name from what the servant said, namely, ‘Look about ye,’ and is so called to this day.”

A likely story, quoted in ‘Geography Classified’ by Edwin Adams, from 1863.