Rhiannon

Local memory has it that “men from Dowsborough beat down men from Stowey Castle, and the men from Stowey beat down Stogursey Castle”.

[..]

..The great hill-camp of Danesborough is practically the central point of our district, and it is a usual saying with us that a Quantock man never cares to be out of sight of “Dowsboro’ pole.” [..] I have already mentioned the tradition that at Danesborough there was a massacre of “the Danes,” and though it is not likely that those marauders ever reached the camp, no doubt some such slaughter did take place there, possibly in the invasion of Kentwine. But it is said that the old warriors are still living within the hill, and that at midnight their songs and merriment as they feast may be heard.

[..]

From Danesborough runs eastward the ancient trackway to the Cannington, or Combwich, fort and the tidal ford. And along this route the “Wild Hunt” still passes overhead, coming from the river to the hills. The belief of the hunt is strong with us, but I have never heard that its passing is held to portend anything special, as in the north.

Local Traditions of the Quantocks
C. W. Whistler
Folklore, Vol. 19, No. 1. (Mar. 30, 1908), pp. 31-51.

There are a number of round cairns up here on Wills Neck – there doesn’t seem to be a ‘camp’ though, as the following author suggests, but the folklore does relate to the fields below:

[A camp], unnamed, lying in Aisholt parish, on the eastern slopes, and guarding a pass over the highest ridge of the hills, “Will’s Neck,” seems to be associated with a more definite battle-tradition yet. The field below the spur of the hill where the camp lies, in which the fight took place, is still pointed out as that where “the worst battle ever fought in these parts was fought. The dead men were heaped all so high as the top of the gates, and the blood ran out so deep as the second thill,” (i.e. gate bar). The folk can tell you no more, but will repeat the detail, only adding that it is not so long ago that the graves of the dead men could be seen in the field, and that swords and spears had been dug up often. Nothing is visible now to break the surface, and it is not known what became of the weapons. This statement is probably traditional, and may date back indefinitely.

Local Traditions of the Quantocks
C. W. Whistler
Folklore, Vol. 19, No. 1. (Mar. 30, 1908), pp. 31-51.

Turning the Devil’s Boulder. Primitive Rite in Village of Shebbear, North Devon.

The Times of November 4, 1952, in announcing a “traditional survival” in “an isolated upland village” said “The pride of the village is the brown monolith – an arenaceous conglomerate stone – that reposes beneath an oak-tree outside the Norman church. On the evening of November 5 the bell-ringers unfailingly assemble in the belfry with a designedly clamorous and discordant peal, which is looked upon as a challenge to evil spirits. Accompanied by the Vicar the ringers then leave the church, arm themselves with crowbars, and surround the boulder. Shouting excitedly, as though to encourage one another, they then turn over the boulder.

The oldest inhabitant, a blacksmith 87 years of age, has given his boyhood memories of the custom. He told me that in his time the custom took place later in the evening and torches and lanterns were used.

The turning of the boulder is regarded in a most serious light by the older villagers. Any neglect of this parochial function would, they say, lead to evil consequences for the crops.

E.F. COOTE LAKE

Folk Life and Traditions
E. F. Coote Lake
Folklore, Vol. 64, No. 1. (Mar., 1953), pp. 301-302.

Apparently an unusual ball-game was played here on Palm Sunday: the details are given at Martinsell where a similar thing was also played: Cley Hill is another site.

A festival used to be held on top of Martinsell on Palm Sunday, which closely resembled an ordinary country fair. The principal feature of the meeting was the fighting which took place there. The inhabitants of the district would reserve the settlement of their quarrels till the day of the festival, and the scenes which then occurred were often of the most brutal character. But this part of the ceremonies was suppressed, and the fair soon died out.

People still meet on the top of the hill, however, and a curious game is played on the steep slope. A number of boys stand one above the other, and the one at the foot starts a ball, which is hit up the hill with hockey sticks, each of the players passing it to the one above him, until it reaches the top boy, when it is allowed to roll down, and the game is begun again.

I cannot find that any peculiar viands were sold. An old man said “land figs” were eaten, but these seem to be the ordinary fruit. I am told that boys play a game at Roundway Hill, near Devizes, on Palm Sunday, similar to that played at Martinsell.

Folklore Scraps from Several Localities
Alice B. Gomme
Folklore, Vol. 20, No. 1. (Mar. 30, 1909), pp. 72-83.

Perhaps there’s nothing here. Or perhaps there’s still a vague bump. It seems to be in the garden of one of the first houses on the east side of the road (the Droveway?).

In what was early this century the garden of the home of Sir Johnston Forbes Robertson there stood a Bronze Age round barrow. It was partly removed in 1920 for a tennis court, when it was found to contain the primary burial of a human skeleton, probably crouched, above which were six later, most likely pagan Saxon, skeletons. These finds caused the house and its surroundings to acquire the reputation of being haunted, with the result that Sir Johnston experienced some difficulty in getting servants or keeping them. The site of the barrow is on Bay Hill, St Margarets at Cliffe, at TR 36414449. I have not seen it but it was still about two feet high in 1964..

The Folklore of a Round Barrow in Kent
L. V. Grinsell
Folklore > Vol. 103, No. 1 (1992), p. 111

The Drake Stone.. consists of one large and one small glaciated boulder of Spilsby Sandstone. This is said to have been all one stone, and that the smaler one has been split off the larger; the stones are always spoken of in the singular. Trollope says [..1872] that “the stone is said to have stood upon another stone at one time.” Only in one traditional account, out of many, were the stones called the “Duck and Drake Stones.”

[..]

Local tradition says that a man was ploughing in the field that is known as “Drake Stone Close,” when he was horrified to find horses and plough fast disappearing into a sort of quicksand. He himself managed to keep on firm ground, but he could not get the horses out, try as he would. As the quicksand finally closed over them, with a horrid sucking noise, a drake seemed to fly out of the hole where the horses had disappeared, and flew away with a discordant quacking. This scared the man so badly that he hurriedly left for home. Next morning he re-visited the spot to find the ground firm, but a slight depression indicated the site of the tragedy, in the middle of which was a large boulder stone, something the shape of a drake’s head; since when this stone has been known as the Drake Stone.

It was always said, that under the Stone there was a great deal of treasure hidden, and many were the efforts to obtain it on the quiet, but no one was successful. Then a man, bolder than the rest, determined to make a great effort to get this treasure, openly; so he got together a yoke of oxen, not of ordinary strength, but all the oxen that he had or could borrow, and he fastened great chains round the stone, and fastened the oxen to them. At the given word the beasts pulled and heaved and managed to move the great stone a very little way from its bed, but then the chains snapped, and the oxen collapsed, and the guardian spirit of the treasure flew from under the stone in the form of a drake, and back went the stone into its accustomed place again.
After that it was deemed unwise to meddle with the stone, and it was left severely alone.

Lincolnshire Folk-Lore
Ethel H. Rudkin
Folklore, Vol. 45, No. 2. (Jun., 1934), pp. 144-157.

Well, you’d really think it was to do with drakes=dragons, rather than quack-quack drakes. Still I guess that’s what happens once a word goes out of popular vocabulary?

THE ARPAFEELIE BASIN STONE

A curious story is attached to an ancient stone, embedded in the ground, in a beechwood on the estate of Alangrange, near Arpafeelie, Black Isle, Ross-shire. The stone, roughly oblong, contains a circular cavity, about eight inches across and eight or nine inches deep, which is very carefully formed out of the hard rock. The stone lies a few yards south of a prehistoric “hut circle” of which there are three pairs, situated on a ridge, called Taendore--Gaelic, Tigh-an-druidbh-- house of the Druids. It is of the class known as Basin Stones.

[...]

After a lapse of years the following sequel in events [to the story in PSAS] occurred. In March 1937 permission was given to the Curator of the Inverness Highland Museum, by the owner of Alangrange for the removal of the stone to the Museum. In view of this, two local residents went to examine the stone and accidentally turned it over on one side, leaving it lying thus unnoticed. Forty-eight hours later, the family at Taendore received news of the death of a child relative, caused by an accident. Also a sheep farmer, residing at the same farm, suddenly collapsed while escorting a cousin to her car. Whether or not these incidents were regarded as coincidences, or as acts of diabolical agency, the owner of the estate felt compelled by force of local and family feeling, to cancel the permission for removal of the stone, which she had given so recently.

It, therefore, rests in its original home at Arpafeelie, apparently for all time, as to this day none of the local country people will approach within near distance of the stone.

These later events in the history of the stone, were recorded, at the time, by the Curator of the Museum, in the Inverness Courier, 1937.

There was also a belief that the rainwater contained in the basin of this stone, was a cure for barrenness. “Childless women visited the stone and bathed in its water before sunrise” (Pro.Soc. of Antiquaries Scot. Vol. XVI, p387). This “cure” was resorted to up to the year 1882, at least.
E.J. BEGG.

The Arpafeelie Basin Stone
E. J. Begg
Folklore, Vol. 61, No. 3. (Sep., 1950), p. 152.

I always imagined the Afanc as a bit like a watery dragon. But it seems he could talk and wield a spade:

A North Pembrokeshire legend says that in ancient days the Afanc, dwelling on the Precelly slopes somewhere above Brynberian, ravaged the countryside, committing such depredations on the live-stock of the population that a consultation of the wisest folk was held to devise some means of getting rid of him. They decided to slay him by a trick. A deputation was sent to him to ask him to dig a well for the people. This he agreed to do, and forthwith began working furiously. When he had dug to a great depth (“over one hundred yards” said one relater) the people above tipped into the hole he had made a big load of “white stones” {? Alabaster} which they had collected on the mountain-sides, intending to crush him to death. But next morning they found him still digging, and were informed by him that there had been a rather heavy snowstorm on the previous day. Thus they were unable to do away with him; and he continued as before, eventually “dying a natural death”, after which “he was buried on the hill side” between Hafod and Brynberian, “and his tomb {a cairn of stones} may be seen to this day”. In June, 1928 Charles Oldham and I visited this stone circle which is close to the village of Brynberian, well out on the moor.
This story was collected by T.R.Davis (now Schoolmaster of Newport School) and included by him in original Welsh in his prize essay on N. Pembrokeshire Folklore (MS. Maenchlochog, 1906). He heard it from shepherds and cotters in the Precelly district.

Notes on Pembrokeshire Folk-Lore, Superstitions, Dialect Words, etc
Bertram Lloyd
Folklore, Vol. 56, No. 3. (Sep., 1945), pp. 307-320.

Well this is really ghastly, I’m afraid.

..an account [of this] appeared in a Devonshire newspaper one day last spring, on the Dartmoor, where the foaming river Plym rushes through a ravine under the tall cliffs of the Dewerstone. This wild spot is haunted by the Black Huntsman, who with his “Wish-hounds” careers over the waste at night. A story is told of this phantom that a farmer, riding across the moor by night, encountered the Black Hunter, and being flushed with ale, shouted to him “Give us a share of your game!” The Huntsman thereupon threw him something that he supposed might be a fawn, which he caught and carried in his arms till he reached his home, one of the old moorland farms. There arrived, he shouted, and a man came out with a lantern. “Bad news, master,” said the man; “you’ve had a loss since you went out this morning.” “But I have gained something,” answered the farmer, and getting down brought what he had carried to the lantern, and beheld---his own dead child! During the day his only little one had died.

Folklore Parallels and Coincidences
M. J. Walhouse
Folklore, Vol. 8, No. 3. (Sep., 1897), pp. 196-202.

Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of Rhiannon’s folklore speculations. I’ve never been that convinced by the ‘Hester Peglar’ school of thought when it comes to the name of this long barrow, and recently found some solid(ish) confusion about it (see ‘Misc’). And now I have a no less incredible alternative..

I came across mention of ‘Heg-Peg Dump’, which is a suet pudding made with plums and damsons. It was made, in Gloucestershire (where the Tump is), on the occasion of St Margaret’s Day (hence the ‘Peg’ part of the name, which was her nickname) – which is the 20th July.

Then I read this, which relates the pudding to the specific area of Gloucestershire near the Tump:

Village Feasts.--Many Cotswold parishes keep their annual Feast in the autumn, usually on the Sunday after the church dedication festival, which is sometimes observed on the date according to Old Style. There are family gatherings, a special dish for the occasion, and often open house, especially at the smaller public-houses. [..] at Nympsfield, puddings or dumplings are made of wild plums or “heg-pegs.” There is a local rhyme, twitting the Nympsfield folks, who are very sensitive on the point:-

Nympsfield is a pretty place,
Built upon a tump,
And what the people live upon
Is heg-peg [or “ag-pag”] dump.

Nympsfield lies between “Hetty Pegler’s tump,” – i.e. Uley Bury tumulus, --and Lynch Field; but there is a Barrow field, of which only the name remains, in the village itself.

Cotswold Place-Lore and Customs (Continued)
J. B. Partridge
Folklore, Vol. 23, No. 4. (Dec., 1912), pp. 443-457.

Whaddya reckon. Surely not coincidence?? Could the tump have reminded them of the pudding in shape? Or did they connect St Margaret with the tump.. is St Margaret a christianisation of another protective goddess? Or am I going too far now. Shall we just stick with the pudding theory. Or indeed consign the whole idea to the back burner. The question still remains of whether / when the local people were aware of the barrow – how old is the name??

Four Stones, Old Radnor.-- There was a great battle fought here, and four kings were killed. The Four Stones were set up over their graves. (Kington Workhouse, 1908.)

Welsh Folklore Items, I
Ella M. Leather
Folklore, Vol. 24, No. 1. (Mar., 1913), pp. 106-110.

A fine assortment of early opinions on [the henge] is fortunately available. Thomas Pennant, journeying north, wrote of it in 1769, “Some suppose this to have been designed for tilting matches, and that the champions entered at each opening. Perhaps that might have been the purpose of it: for size forbids one to suppose it to be an encampment.” Four years later, however, he visited the Thornbrough henges (all three are very similar) and changed his mind, deciding that they at any rate, were designed for holm-ganga, or single combat in the Norse style, with the contestants entering at either side and spectators thronging the bank. He cites Saxo Grammaticus to illustrate this, and he adds, “I daresay the ring near Penrith, in Cumberland” (i.e. King Arthur’s Round Table) “was formed for the same purpose.”

Hutchinson, who had also visited the Round Table by 1773, noted: “We were induced to believe this was an antient tilting ground, where justings had been held: the approaches seemed to answer for the career, and the circle appears sufficient for the champions to shew their dexterity in the use of the lance and horsemanship: the whole circus being capable of receiving a thousand spectators on the outer side of the ditch.”
Pennant was not the first to record the tradition of “tilting” at the Round Table. Bishop Gibson, a century before, had suggested “Tis possible enough that it might be a Justing-place...

Folklore from a Northern Henge Monument
Charles Thomas
Folklore, Vol. 64, No. 3. (Sep., 1953), pp. 427-429.

During the late summer of 1952 the writer was of a team of archaeologists [excavating Thornborough Central henge].. Curious villagers often visited the “dig”, and from the gossip of one, a fairly intelligent quarry foreman of about 50, the following beliefs emerged. The henge was supposed to have “treasure in’t middle”. It was known as “the charging-ground” and had been used as such by either the Romans or the Saxons (a previous local find of a Roman bath lent favour to the former alternative). The protagonists, mounted on horseback either for tilting or for single combat, had entered at the two opposing entrances, and had hurtled to their mutual encounter at the centre. Cheering spectators had thronged the banks, isolated from the combatants by the inner ditch, which was filled with water.

[..] this local aetiology is of some interest, because it has a parallel in another henge, King Arthur’s Round Table, Penrith, Cumberland.

Folklore from a Northern Henge Monument
Charles Thomas
Folklore, Vol. 64, No. 3. (Sep., 1953), pp. 427-429.

[The fairies] were also associated with caves. One lived in Thor’s Cave, and a whole clan were to be found in the cavern beneath Ludchurch.

St. Mary’s, Leek, Staffs.
W.P. WITCUTT

Notes on Staffordshire Folklore
W. P. Witcutt
Folklore, Vol. 53, No. 2. (Jun., 1942), pp. 126-127.

The Fiddling Hobthurse of Thor’s Cave in the Manifold Valley, whose “fiddling” or screeching filled the cavern, was however something more than a harmless sprite. One cannot go far wrong in taking him to be the god to whom sacrifice was offered on the altar in the cave. Thor’s Cave, as a matter of fact, has nothing to do with Thor. Its old name is Thursehole, the cave of the thurse or fairy..

Notes on Staffordshire Folklore
W. P. Witcutt
Folklore, Vol. 52, No. 3. (Sep., 1941), pp. 236-237.

Hinckley Point [sic], on the Severn Coast, where an Atomic Power Station has been built within the last few years, was considered for centuries to be fairy-haunted land. The neighbourhood is full of pixy tales and beliefs, and the Quantock people are quite outspoken in their expectation of disaster for the intruding Power Station. It has had, and is still having, a more than reasonable number of setbacks. There have been some bad accidents which are freely ascribed in the countryside to its being built where it is. Usually, West Somerset people will not discuss their still-remembered fairy-beliefs, but in this case their speech is suggestive and indicates a full knowledge of the tradition.
[..]The elderly, and not so elderly, find a ghoulish pleasure in recounting the accidents and dangers attendant on its building. One or two grim watchers have tallied up deaths and near-deaths at one a year since the beginning of the desecration. Of these they say, ‘Ah! they won’t stop till there’s seven.’ Are these victims to placate the River Severn or the vengeful pixy-people? An answer to modern boasting abou the triumphs of science is: ‘You and I won’t be here come a hundred years time. But They’ll have ‘en! Hundred years be nothing to They. They can bide.‘

Watching Folklore Grow
R. L. Tongue
Folklore, Vol. 75, No. 2. (Summer, 1964), pp. 110-112.

Above Porlock Hill, imbedded in the heather, to the left of the road, are two large stones called the Whitstones. Mentioned in Guide Books of the district, they are traditionally said to have been thrown by St. Dubricius and the Devil, from Hurlstone Point, during a hurling contest.
Mr. H. of Porlock, giving a variation of this legend, said they were thrown by “Dr. Foster” and the Devil. He said many attempts had been made to remove the stones from their horizontal position to upright, but that no one could move them an inch.
Between sixty to seventy years ago a Mr. M., steward to the Squire of Porlock Manor, made an attempt without any success.
Another informant, old Tommy S-- of Porlock, said the stones were thrown by an Angel and the Devil, and a third informant, an old inhabitant of the nearby village of Horner, again said they were thrown by Dr. Foster and the Devil. No information about the legendary person, Dr. Foster, could be obtained.

Scraps of Folk-Lore from Somerset
E. O. Begg
Folklore, Vol. 56, No. 3. (Sep., 1945), pp. 293-295.

A writer on Somerset superstition in Cassell’s Family Magazine for November, 1890, says: “The prophecies of Mother Shipton are nowhere more widely believed in than in the county of Somerset. Not long ago a report was in circulation that a great catastrophe had been predicted by this old sage. She had prophesied that Ham Hill, one of the great stone quarries of Somerset, would be swallowed up on Good Friday. This catastrophe was to be the consequence of a tremendous earthquake, which would be felt all over the county. Some of the inhabitants left the neighbourhood to escape the impending evil; others removed their crockery and breakable possessions to prevent their being thrown to the ground; others, again, ceased cultivating their gardens. Great alarm was felt, and Good Friday was looked forward to with universal anxiety. And yet when the day came and went without any disaster at all, even that did little to dispel the faith in Mother Shipton; the calculator had made a blunder about the date, and it was not her fault; and many Somersetshire folk are still waiting, expecting to suffer from the prophesied catastrophe.

The Folk-Lore of Somerset
Edward Vivian; F. W. Mathews
Folklore, Vol. 31, No. 3. (Sep. 30, 1920), pp. 239-249.

On Palm Sunday there were gatherings on Longbridge Deverill Cow-down to play “trap,” going up by “Jacob’s ladder.” The young men, with the elders to watch them, would “beat the ball” up Cow-down and then play trap.
And on Palm Sunday the women and children would go out into the fields “to tread the wheat.” (1897)

Folklore Notes from South-West Wilts
John U. Powell
Folklore, Vol. 12, No. 1. (Mar., 1901), pp. 71-83.

Phantom Coaches
Bill Elliot said that, when a boy, he used to leave Upwood at 2a.m. to take the wheat into Salisbury. One morning, by first light of dawn, he saw near Handley Cross a coach drawn by a pair of headless horses plunge across Oakley Down from the direction of Cranbourne and disappear near the Yew-Tree Garage on the main Blandford-Salisbury road. He told me several other people had seen this apparition.

From:The Folklore of Sixpenny Handley, Dorset, Part I
Aubrey L. Parke
Folklore, Vol. 74, No. 3. (Autumn, 1963), pp. 481-487.

I have not recorded in the body of the text the story that the Rev. A.R.T. Bruce was chased off Oakley Down by a ghostly warrior because, when I asked him if this adventure had indeed occurred, he denied it, albeit regretfully.

I have also omitted the tradition, told me by several people, that Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni, fought a battle at Handley Cross, because all historical evidence is against the possibility of this event. The story probably originated because of the large numbers of barrows in the area, which tradition claims to be the war cemetery for the dead from the battle.

I think he’s slightly missing the point. Whoever said folklore had to be factual?!
From: The Folklore of Sixpenny Handley, Dorset, Part I
Aubrey L. Parke
Folklore, Vol. 74, No. 3. (Autumn, 1963), pp. 481-487.

Another version of the story:

Kit’s Grave. A copse on the county border is said by some to be named Kit’s Grave after a highwayman, Kit, who was hung and buried there. However, Herb Lucas, the chauffeur at Upwood, said that Kit was an old woman, possibly a Romany, who lived a nomadic life between the parishes of Bowerchalke and Ebbesbourne Wake, and died on the boundary. No one knew her well. Those who found the body approached the authorities of both parishes, but neither would meet the funeral expenses or claim the body. Kit was therefore buried where she was found, and the copse was named after her.

The Folklore of Sixpenny Handley, Dorset, Part I
Aubrey L. Parke
Folklore, Vol. 74, No. 3. (Autumn, 1963), pp. 481-487.

.

Bottlebush Down. I was told that one evening a man lay down to rest on top of one of the barrows on Bottlebush Down, and was astonished to see a crowd of little people in leather jerkins, who came and danced round him. Since hearing ths tale, I have been told that the man was the late curate of Handley, the Rev. A.R.T. Bruce, but unfortunately he died before I could confirm this.

The Folklore of Sixpenny Handley, Dorset, Part I
Aubrey L. Parke
Folklore, Vol. 74, No. 3. (Autumn, 1963), pp. 481-487.

Can you doubt the testimony of a man of the cloth? Did his fatigue / relaxation predispose him to dreaming, hallucinations or Actually Seeing Something? Or did it happen at all – this isn’t a first hand story after all.

A forester accounted for the tumuli on Beaulieu Heath in this fashion:-- “We calls ut Saltpetre Bank. All these here mounds was throwd up by Uliver Crummle when he tuk the Farest; he and the Danes beat the English the fust time they ever was beat, and he druv the English into Wales.”

Hampshire Folklore
D. H. Moutray Read
Folklore, Vol. 22, No. 3. (Sep. 30, 1911), pp. 292-329.

Headless Ghost.--On Roundway Down a headless ghost is said to walk. Some years ago a shepherd declared that he met it, that it walked some distance by his side, and then vanished. The gentleman to whom he told the story asked why he did not speak to the ghost. “I was afraid,” he replied, “for if I hadn’t spoken proper to him he’d a tore ‘un to pieces.” A barrow is near the place, which was excavated some time ago, when a skeleton (not headless) was found. Since the barrow was opened the ghost has ceased to walk.

Death and Burial Customs in Wiltshire
L. A. Law; W. Crooke
Folklore, Vol. 11, No. 3. (Sep., 1900), pp. 344-347.

I don’t know how well this equates to the source of the following:

We have been reading the story of the man who carried his head under his arm and disappeared by a barrow on Roundway Hill, near Devizes, but has not been seen since the opening of the barrow and the finding therein of a skeleton lying on its left side in a doubled-up position.*

*Devizes and Wiltshire Gazette, May 16, 1895.

Wiltshire Notes and Queries , June 1895, p482.

Silbury Hill. ---“Silbury Hill is to this day thronged every Palm Sunday afternoon by hundreds from Avebury, Kennet, Overton, and the adjoining villages.*”

*Wilts Archaeological Magazine, December, 1861, p181.

Quoted in Wiltshire Folklore
T B Partridge
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 211-212.

Hill Sliding. ---Martinsell Hill, on the top of which is an ancient encampment, formerly used to be the scene of a great fair on Palm Sunday. Boys used to slide down the hill on the jawbones of horses; men from the neighbouring villages used to settle their disputes on this day by fighting; oranges were thrown down the slope and lads used to rush headlong after them. At the present day only a few children stroll about the hill on Palm Sunday

Wiltshire Folklore
T B Partridge
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 211-212.

In addition to Fitz’s information:

On Kirkby Moor.. is a low ringwork of loose earth and stones. “It goes by the name of ‘The Kirk,’ and a ‘venerable inhabitant’ (Archaeologia, liii.) could recollect that it had once borne a peristalith. The natives assert that the spot was traditionally ‘a place where their fathers worshipped’, and, as a matter of fact, games used, until recent times, to be held on the spot by the Lord of the Manor at Eastertide” (Allcroft, Earthworks of England, 1908, p139).

Lancashire Folklore
T B Partridge
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 211

“’They’ say that a king is buried on Denbury, and among several couplets one goes:
‘Whoever delves in Denbury Down
Is sure to find a golden crown’.”

This comes from Tristram Risdon’s ‘Chorographical Description.. Devon,’ written in the early 17th century, and quoted in ‘The Folklore of Devon’ by Theo Brown, in Folklore, Vol. 75, No. 3. (Autumn, 1964), pp. 145-160.

The story of a bull’s hide filled with gold is connected with many stones. At its simplest it is found at the Binghill stone circle on Deeside, at Lulach’s Stone near Kildrummy, at a standing-stone at Glenkindie close by a branch road to Towie, and at the Muckle Stane o’ Clochforbie, near the steading of the farm of that name. The last may be a broken recumbent stone, but there is nowadays no standing-stone near it. In this case also an attempt was once made to remove the treasure, but the great efforts made to shift the stone proved fruitless, and a warning voice having been heard from beneath the depths of the stone to command ” Let be!” the advice was taken and the stone has remained undisturbed ever since.

From: Ritchie, J., Folklore of Aberdeenshire Stone Circles, in Proc. Soc. Ant. of Scotland, LX, 1926, pp304-313. )

The RCHAMS database says “A large block of whinstone 2.59m in circumference; believed locally to mark the spot of a battle. There is one single cup mark in the centre on the W side.” but then goes on to discount the cup mark as a natural feature of ‘nil antiquity’. There is a photo of the stone here:
rcahms.gov.uk/pls/portal/newcanmore.newcandig_p_coll_details?p_arcnumlink=681538

I imagine this folklore also refers to the stone: “At Sinnahard, Towie, there is a standing-stone near which a pot of gold is said to be buried. On one of my visits a good many years ago, the farmer announced that he had no faith in the tale: the only gold he hoped to gain from the place was that of the golden grain then ripening for the harvest.” (from Ritchie, J., Folklore of Aberdeenshire Stone Circles, in Proc. Soc. Ant. of Scotland, LX, 1926, pp304-313. )

The notion that ill-luck attends the destruction of the circles is not yet altogether dead, as is apparent from an incident which occurred in recent times at Corrydoun. Some alterations were being made on the farm buildings, and the mason employed to do the work reckoned that he could make good use in his building operations of the stones in the stone circle. So he set to work to trim one of them, but, finding the stone harder than he had supposed, made little progress. At the dinner-hour he returned to the farm, where it was noticed that he had damaged one of his fingers badly, an injury of which he was not conscious. Someone suggested that it was unlucky to interfere with the stones, and the workman, agreeing, made no further attempt to use them; but his tool-marks still remain.

From: Ritchie, J., Folklore of Aberdeenshire Stone Circles, in Proc. Soc. Ant. of Scotland, LX, 1926, pp304-313.

“The devastation of his cattle herd by disease fell ..upon the farmer
of-Cairnfauld, in Durris parish, following upon his removal of some of
the stones of the circle near-by.”

In: Ritchie, J., Folklore of Aberdeenshire Stone Circles, in Proc. Soc. Ant. of Scotland, LX, 1926, pp304-313.

A .. story is told of the Drumel Stone on the farm of Old Noth, near Gartly. The stone was taken to the farm to make a lintel over a doorway in the steading, but thereafter the steading door was so often found open, and the interned animals wandering about the countryside, that at last it was decided to put the stone back again. When this was done the trouble ceased.

From: Ritchie, J., Folklore of Aberdeenshire Stone Circles, in Proc. Soc. Ant. of Scotland, LX, 1926, pp304-313.

The barrows in the group [on Snail Down] (there are at least thirty) are locally explained as the burial places of “the people killed in the battle of Sidbury Hill.” The latter is crowned by an Iron Age hill fort which looms over the downs...
This hill, like many other natural eminences, owes its position traditionally to Satanic action. “It happened this way,” Mr. M--- told the writer. “The Devil was carrying it from Bristol to London, and he got tired and dropped it on the way.” The same story is told of Silbury Hill, a vast artificial mound.. which actually does stand on the Bristol-London road.. the writer is inclined to regard this tale as having been transferred in comparatively recent times from the former to the latter, doubtless through confusion of the somewhat similar place-names.

A much more fascinating story connects Sidbury Hill with the village, a distance of some two miles. According to Mr. M---, “There is a well in Everleigh village, opposite the two cottages up by the racing stables. I was born in one of those cottages, and they were burnt down in 1884. Down the well, there is an opening in the side, and a tunnel leads from there to Sidbury Hill. They say there is a golden chair in the tunnel.”

.. “Place-Names of Wiltshire”, records the following forms of the name; Shidbury, Chydebur’ (1325), Shudburie, Shudburrowe Hill (1591) and Chidbury (1812).

.. a story of certain caves in the chalk, behind a farm near Ludgershall (five miles east of Everleigh). These were believed to run for miles underground, to go beneath Sidbury Hill, and to come out near Pewsey.

.. “There is an old castle at the foot of Sidbury Hill”, Mr. M--- told the writer, “with a wall around it. The castle has gone now, but the wall is still there, and the Forestry Commission raise young trees inside it. This castle belonged to King Ina.“.. Mr. M---’s story confirms a version of the same tradition recorded in 1812. Sir Richard Colt Hoare published in that year the first volume of his Ancient History of Wiltshire; at p181 he states of the linear earthwork running from Sidbury Hill,
“It terminates in a valley, and immediately at a spot where there are several irregularities and excavations in the soil. With all the ardour and fancy of a zealous antiquary, I once fondly thought that here I might discover the traces of King Ina’s palace, who according to tradition, had a country seat at Everley.”

Folklore from a Wiltshire Village
Charles Thomas
Folklore, Vol. 65, No. 3/4. (Dec., 1954), pp. 165-168.

The writer was.. fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of a Mr. M---, who was born in Everleigh about 1880. Mr. M---, a gardener, knew a number of legends and traditions which, he said, “were handed down to me from my grandfather.” Many of his points were corroborated by other villagers of his generation.

Very little information could be obtained about local reaction to the [1950s] excavation, but the general feeling seemed to be that it was regarded as faintly improper – an act of disturbing the dead.. The local aetiology of the place-name Snail Down .. was given thus; “Snail Down is called that because of the number of snails you find on it.” In actual fact the area is unusually poor in mollusc life.. Mr L. V. Grinsell.. suggests that a double bell-barrow amongst the Snail Down group, when viewed from a certain angle, has the appearance of a giant snail in motion, and this may well be the true explanation.

The barrows in the group (there are at least thirty) are locally explained as the burial places of “the people killed in the battle of Sidbury Hill.” The latter is crowned by an Iron Age hill fort which looms over the downs..

...A remarkable and genuine example of folk-memory occurred during the [Snail Down] excavation. It was known that Sir Richard Colt Hoare and William Cunnington of Devizes had already dug the two barrows which were being examined.. It was the practice of this cautious and enlightened antiquary [WC] to place a small bronze disc, bearing his name and the date, in the sites which he dug and filled in, and one such, with the inscription “William Cunnington – 1805”, was discovered, together with the actual mark in the chalk made by the workman’s spade at the time.
An old shepherd who frequented the downs, and who gave his age as 77, volunteered the information that he, as a boy, had spoken to an old man (who died at the age of 93), and that this old man could remember people digging up the barrows on Snail Down, an act for which, it was alleged, they had been put in prison! If the old man had died about 1880-1885, he would have been between 13 and 18 when Cunnington excavated: since the shepherd was born in 1876, he could have been a boy of nine or ten when the old man quitted this life. Links of two generations spanning 150 years are, according to The Sunday Times, not uncommon, but it is still satisfactory to find such an interesting and unusual one. The gloss of the “imprisonment”, it is suggested, may reflect local opinion of Cunnington’s desecration of the dead.

Folklore from a Wiltshire Village
Charles Thomas
Folklore, Vol. 65, No. 3/4. (Dec., 1954), pp. 165-168.

About a mile east of Berriew, on the green by the side of a lane, is a stone about five feet high, called, on the Ordnance Map, Maen Beuno, but by the people in the neighbourhood “the Bynion Stone.” A man who told me (in 1891) that he was fifty years of age, said he had been told by old men when he was a boy that it was intended to have built a church on the spot where the Bynion Stone stands, but that every night the stones which had been placed in position were carried away and put down on the spot where Berriew Church now stands. (1891.)

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie
C. S. Burne
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

I was enquiring for the Sarsen Stones or Grey Wethers, when only about a furlong from them, but an old man and his neice did not know either name; at last they suggested that what I was seeking was what they called the Thousand Stones. The man told me (what I had heard before) that the stones certainly grew; he had seen this, for, when he was a boy, there were not nearly so many, nor were they so large, as now. (June 1901.)

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie
C. S. Burne
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

King Alfred fought on Wolstonbury Hill, and the ten horse-shoes which are on the Bull Hotel at Ditchling are said to have been cast by his ponies. (1905.)

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie
C. S. Burne
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

I was told in 1875 that the Long Man at Wilmington (called Wilmington Giant by the people of the neighbourhood) was cut on the hills before the Flood.

There are remains of a castle above Wilmington Priory; pilgrimages were made from the castle to the priory, and, at the time of the pilgrimage the giant (Long Man) was slain by the pilgrims.

I was also told that the giant on Firle Beacon threw his hammer at the Wilmington giant and killed him, and that the figure on the hillside marks the place where his body fell.

I was told this again in 1890, and in 1891 was further informed that the Long Man carries spears, not staves, in his hands, and that an upright line (which I was unable to find) runs from top to bottom of the hill a little to the east, and another a little to the west of the figure.

A man told me that the Wilmington Long Man was a giant who fell over the top of the hill and killed himself; he also said that “a boy cut it out; they can’t trace its history, it goes back so far.”

Another man told me that the Wilmington giant was killed by a shepherd, who threw his dinner at the monster. The sun cast a shadow on the hill; the monks marked the place, and cut an outline; thus the Wilmington giant was made.

“One of the Romans” was buried in a gold coffin under the Wilmington giant.

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie
C. S. Burne
Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

Above Aldershot is a hill called Caesar’s Hill. On May 2nd, 1889, I was told that Julius Caesar, from that hill, witnessed a review of his army.

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie.
C. S. Burne, in Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

Bwakem’s comment above: humourous or confused? Surely local people couldn’t have got confused so recently to the event? Or perhaps Mr Emslie just wasn’t listening properly to his informant. Perhaps it’s the latter.

Titterstone Clee Hill is pretty imposing in itself. No wonder then that Bronze Age people chose it as a place to site some burial cairns. And later a univallate Iron Age fort was built here. There’s a ‘Giant’s Chair’ too but who can say when the giant built that.

On Titterstone Clee Hill “a wall thrown down” was put up at the time of the Revolution, when cannon would fire balls from there to Ludlow Castle. “Old women in their red cloaks” would go up into the enclosure. The hill was an island in the time of St. Paul.

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie, by C. S. Burne, in Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

The view from up here is just amazing.

Before you write an email signed ‘Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells’ just remember I only copied this information.

- On the edge of the Ridge Way, near West Ilsley, is Scutchamfly Barrow. The hill here is called Scotchman’s Nob, also Scratch my Nob. I was told (June, 1901) that a battle was fought there with the Scotch, and that the barrow was the grave of those slain in the battle. An elderly woman told me that her father used to say that the battle was called the Battle of Anna.

Scraps of Folklore Collected by John Philipps Emslie, by C. S. Burne, in Folklore, Vol. 26, No. 2. (Jun. 30, 1915), pp. 153-170.

..old John of Gaunt is said to have been the last of [the giants in Cornwall] and to have lived in a castle on the top of Carn Brea (a high hill near Redruth). He could stride from thence to another neighbouring town, a distance of four miles. I do not know if he is supposed to be the one that lies buried under this mighty carn, and whose large protruding hand and bony fingers time has turned to stone. Here, too, in the dark ages, a terrific combat took place between Lucifer and a heavenly host, which ended in the former’s overthrow.

From: Cornish Folk-Lore. Part II [Continued], by M. A. Courtney, in The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 5, No. 2. (1887), pp. 85-112.

The legends of Donald-Duival McKay, the Wizard of the Reay country.
Donald-Duival learned the black art in Italy. The devil sat in the professor’s chair of that school, and at the end of each term he claimed as his own the last scholar. One day as they broke up there was a regular scramble, for none wished to be the last. Donald-Duival really was so; but, just as Satan snatched at him, Donald-Duival, pointing to his own shadow, which fell behind him, cried, “Take then the hindmost!” and his shadow being seized, he himself escaped. When he returned to Scotland he was never seen to have a shadow.

Donald went one day to meet his old master in the great Cave of Smoo. They had a violent quarrel, and Donald fled: the print of his horse’s hoofs may be seen there to this day. But Donald was himself very cruel, and a ring may also be seen to which at low water he fastened his victims, who of course were drowned by the rising tide. [..]

Donald once explored the Cave of Smoo. Having penetrated further than any man had ever gone, he heard a voice cry, “Donald, Donald-Duival! return!” Undaunted, however, he pushed on till he came to a large cask. In this he bored a hole, and out of it, to his surprise, there jumped a little man about an inch and a half long. Surprise grew to terror when this creature gradually assumed colossal proportions, and addressed him as follows: “Donald, did you ever see so great a wonder?” “Never, by my troth,” replied the wizard; “but wert thou to shrink again, that would be a bigger wonder still.” The giant grinned assent, and, after diminishing to a span, was simple enough to jump into the cask, which Donald closed immediately, and then left the cave much quicker than he had entered it.

From The Folk-Lore of Sutherland-Shire, by Miss Dempster, in The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 6, No. 3. (1888), pp. 149-189.

Looking across the western valley that bounds Minchinhampton Common, we see Selsley Hill, which is partly Common, and has earthworks, including a tumulus called “The Toots.” On Selsley Hill is a small enclosed piece known as “Kill Devil Acre.” An old farmer accounted to me for the name by the story of a man who was promised that he should have as much land as he could fence round in a day. He fenced in this piece (no doubt with a dry wall, as is usual here), and then fell down dead of overwork. Another version of the story was given me in these words by Miss Fennemore, of Randwick:- “Some man, having taken a fancy to this piece, determined to enclose it for his own use. To ensure safety and success, he determined to do this by night, so that he might not be disturbed, as his success depended on being able to build a row of stones round it, make a rough chimney, and light a fire therein, after which no one dared molest him. He worked all through the night, but died as he finished the task.

I’m not sure what all that’s about. It sounds more than usually confused. Wasn’t there a law where you could build a house quickly and thereby become a ‘legal squatter’? And where’s the connection with the devil anyway?? From Cotswold Place-Lore and Customs, by J. B. Partridge, in Folklore, Vol. 23, No. 3. (Sep., 1912), pp. 332-342.

Near Enstone is a ruined cromlech known as the ”Hoar Stone.” The villagers say that “it was put up in memory of a certain general named Hoar, who was slain in the Civil War. It was put there, as that was a piece of land no one owned. A letter signed ZWn in the Oxford Times of March 29, 1902, mentions this story, and adds that “there was a battle over there, Lidstone way.” Lidstone being a hamlet of Enstone, about one and a half miles to the north west. Mr W Harper in ‘Observations on Hoar-Stones,’ printed in Archaeologica (1832) xxv., 54, speaks of the “War Stone at Enstone. This conspicuous object is said by the country people to have been set up ‘at a French wedding.’”

From:Stray Notes on Oxfordshire Folklore, by Percy Manning, in Folklore, Vol. 13, No. 3. (Sep. 29, 1902), pp. 288-295.

Near Steeple Barton is another ruined cromlech, also called the ”Hoar Stone,” which is now only a confused heap of small stones, having been broken up by an ignorant farmer. Some fifty years ago it was much more perfect, and two of the side stones were standing about four feet out of the ground. “They used to say that whenever they tried to drag them two pebbles away with horses, they would roll back of their own accord. Them two pebbles growed out of little uns: at least that’s my way of thinking.” (From George Nevill, of Yarnton, aged 74, March, 1901.)}

From:Stray Notes on Oxfordshire Folklore, by Percy Manning, in Folklore, Vol. 13, No. 3. (Sep. 29, 1902), pp. 288-295.

Beacon Hill is a very conspicuous landmark, just above Eynsham Bridge, on the Berkshire side of the Thames, about two and a half miles in a straight line from the “Quoits.” [..] The devil was playing quoits on Beacon Hill on a Sunday, and in a rage at being told it was wrong, he threw these three to where they are now.
One of the quoits standing in Walker’s Field was once taken away and put over a ditch called the “Back Ditch” in the “Farm Close” to make a bridge; but it was always slipping, and although often put back, it would not rest, and they were obliged at last to take it back to where it now stands. Wheel marks can still be seen on it – (From Chas. Batts, labourer, of Stanton Harcourt, aged 35, who had it from his father. January 1 1898).
{Mr. Akerman, in 1858, records a rationalised version of the same story, as follows: “There is a tradition in the neighbourhood that the northernmost stone was once removed by an occupier of the land, and laid across a watercourse, where it served as a bridge over which waggons and carts for some time passed, and that it was restored to its old locality at the request of one of the Harcourt family. A grove in this stone, eight inches from the top, seven inches in width, and about three inches deep, is believed to have been caused by the wheels of the vehicles when it lay prostrate.“}

{Joseph Goodlake of Stanton Harcourt (now of Yarnton), aged 63, in March, 1901, gave me the following particulars which he had from his father: “When the war was in England, the fighting ended at Stanton by those stones, and from there across to Stanlake Down by Cut Mill. Harcourt was the general; he was Emperor in England; he is buried in the church with his sword and gun and clothes.” Further: “When the war was in England the officers used to hide behind them” (the Devil’s Quoits) “from the bullets,” and the men used to pick the bullets out of them when my informant was young.}

{The legend connecting the Quoits with a battle is confirmed by a story told by Tom Hughes [Scouring of the White Horse, 1859]: “An old man in that village” (Stanton Harcourt) “told me that a battle was fought there, which the English were very near losing, who was in the thick of it, and called out, ‘Stan’ to un, Harcourt, stan’ to un, Harcourt,’ and that Harcourt won the battle, and the village has been called Stanton Harcourt ever since.“}

From:Stray Notes on Oxfordshire Folklore, by Percy Manning, in Folklore, Vol. 13, No. 3. (Sep. 29, 1902), pp. 288-295.