Rhiannon

Alleged offspring of the thorn, a long way from Wearyall Hill, but still in Somerset, just west of Crewkerne.

”Pulman’s Weekly News says that a piece of the original Glastonbury Thorn is growing in the garden of a cottage between Hewish and Woolmingston. For several years past, the tree – or, rather, a small bush – has been visited at midnight on Old Christmas Eve by people who vow that the bush actually blossomed while they were watching it, and became bare again shortly afterwards.

On Friday night, the number of ‘pilgrims’ to this shrine was at least 200 – from Crewkerne, Misterton, and other places – and those who came to scoff remained – if not ‘to pray’ at least to be convinced of the wonderful phenomenon. They say that at half-past eleven not a sign of a flower could be seen, but that at midnight every twig of one side of the bush was covered with delicately-tinted May light blossoms.”

This paragraph appeared in a Crewkerne paper, and was copied, among others, by a Yeovil paper having a circulation of some 25,000 copies in Somerset and the neighbouring counties. Strange to say, however, it has not been contradicted nor even queried so far as I have been able to ascertain. The natives seem quite capable of “swallowing” the above and a great deal more about “the holy thorn.” This notice in a scientific journal may be the means of causing some of your curious readers to endeavour to throw a little light on this superstition or phenomenon – whichever they may decide it to be. -- W. Macmillan, Castle Cary.

From Hardwicke’s Science Gossip, 1877, v8, p95.

Ah, you will say, but isn’t this a castle motte? Well it is, but as the scheduled monument record allows, the mound was dug into in the 1840s, and it’s thought that it was built onto a handy mound that already existed, a barrow.

Mr. W. Beamont, in a paper read before the Lancashire and Cheshire Historic Society, on the “Fee of Makerfield,” etc., in March, 1873, says, – “On the west side of this rivulet” (the Golbourne brook), “where the red rock rises above it, there is scooped out a rude alcove or cave, which the country people assign to Robin Hood [...]“. The stream near Newton has been blocked by an earthen embankment, and the “Castle Hill” now overlooks a beautiful artificial lake, with three branches. Robin Hood’s cave, alas! had to be sacrificed; four or five feet of water now placidly flows over the site of its former entrance.

[...] The writer further informs us that the “Castle Hill is said to be haunted by a white lady, who flits and glides, but never walks. She is sometimes seen at midnight, but is never heard to speak.

The Rev. Mr. Sibson adds -- “There is a tradition that Alfred the Great was buried here, with a crown of gold, in a silver coffin.”

From On some ancient battlefields in Lancashire by Charles Hardwick (1882).

I thought this massive split boulder on the beach at Fionnphort much more striking than the standing stone down the road. It deserves a story and it looks like it’s got a few. It’s quite different stone from the famous pink granite of the area.

I asked a local fisherman about the split rock so obvious on the beach at Fionnphort, which is known to tourists as ‘Fingal’s Rock’. The locals call it rather more curiously ‘The Swordstone’, and it does appear cleaved clean in two by a sword – the story goes that around 1870, the quarry had a lifesaving contract cancelled on a dubious quality control claim. This led to protests, the novel result of which was packing a crack in the rock with gunpowder and splitting the block in two, a symbol of the historical division between local loyalties and higher, vested powers in Scotland.

That unlikely tale is from the Stone Country blog. Or there’s the story that it’s to do with giants throwing stones at each other, as you can read at the website of the nearby Seaview B+B. Fingal’s Cave is only a reasonably-priced boat trip out to Staffa, you know, maybe that’s the inspiration for the connection. Mmm Staffa.

There are local traditions of a battle fought here by the Scots supported by cairns in Scotsburn Wood and by the name Lochan a’ Chlaidheimh, sword loch.

From Easter Ross by Alexander Polson, 1914.

An 18th century visitor tries to communicate the atmosphere:

Roche-Rocks (so called from the neighbouring village of St. Roche) are situated in the midst of an open heath, half a mile south from the road leading through Bodmin to Truro, and about six miles from the former place. The country around is naked, barren, and dreary almost beyond conception.

[...] A pile of rocks starting abruptly out of a wide green surface, and covering some space with enormous fragments on which there are only a few vestiges of incipient vegetation, form a singular scene, exhibiting a kind of wild sublimity peculiar to itself. Some of them are full sixty feet in height, and on a projection in one part stands a small Gothic building to all appearance very ancient, and tradition reports that it was once the cell of a hermit.

volume 1 of William Maton’s “Observations relative chiefly to the natural history, picturesque scenery, and antiquities of the western counties of England, made in the years 1794 and 1796.”

Moist semi-oxygenated particles of iron, it is well known, have an agglutinating power; – the AGGLESTONE, therefore, which is composed of ferrugineous sand-stone, appears to me to have been formed on the spot, and there can be no necessity for supposing that the Druids (if it be true that it is a Druidical monument) would bring so enormous a mass from a distance. --

This extraordinary insulated rock, is situated on the heath, not far from Studland, and is about eighty feet in circumference, at a medium, the height being about twenty. It is somewhat in the shape of an inverted cone. The spot whereon it stands is raised like a barrow. This circumstance occasioned the conjecture that it was erected as a monument to some British chief, interred below. Whether it was intended for a sepulchral memorial, or whether the heap of earth was thrown up only to render the top of the rock accessible, the name Agglestone (from the Saxon halig-stand, i.e. holy stone) certainly seems to shew that it was erected for some superstitious purpose.

The country people call it the Devil’s night-cap, and there is a tradition that his Satanic Majesty threw it from the Isle of Wight, with an intent to demolish Corfe Castle, but that it dropped short here!

From volume 1 of “Observations relative chiefly to the natural history, picturesque scenery, and antiquities of the western counties of England, made in the years 1794 and 1796” by William Maton.

Strange Newes From Hereford.

Sir,
My kind love and service remembred unto you and your good wife, these are to let you understand of a strange thing which happened in the Wergins upon Wednesday was sennight in the day time about 12. of the clock, a mighty wind did drive a Stone as much as 6. Oxen could well draw six-score, and ploughed a furrow a foote and a halfe deepe all the way it went, and another Stone which 12. Oxen did draw to the Wirgins many yeares since, that Stone being farre bigger then the other Stone, was carried the same time a quarter of a myle, & made no impression at all in the ground, but the Water was in the Medow a foote deepe. The bigger Stone was round and a yard and a quarter over, and about a yard deepe, the lesser Stone was a yard and halfe in length, and was made fast upon the other Stone untill the wind, and I know not what did part them, there was a man of Mr. Iames Seabornes, which was riding to Hereford, did see one of the Stones going, and as he relates, a blacke Dog going before the Stone, the man was a great distance of and put in a greate feare, other Market people doe relate it, because I would write the truth unto you, I ridde this morning to see the Stones, and as I could guesse the Stones to be carried the same distance which I have written unto you, I presume you knew the Wirgins, it is the way as we ride to Sutton, and the stones were brought to the Wirgins long since, for a Marke to know the way. All your friends here are in good health, and we wish the like to you and yours. Thus praying to God to mend these miserable times, I cease.
Your loving friend,
William Westfaling.
Hereford, Febr. the 23. 1641.

From an appendix in Memorials of the Civil War by the Rev T W Webb (v2), 1879. Apparently this strange incident was seen as one of a number of strange portents ‘attended to with intense interest and dread’ that occurred in the period leading up to the war, as the Rev explains here.

... we reach the little village of Treen, the inhabitants of which seem to be nearly all either guides to, or entertainers of, visitors to the Logan Rock, or, as its name was always formerly, the Logan Stone. This block of granite weighs about ninety tons, “yet any one, by applying his shoulder to the edge, and favouring the vibrations, can easily cause the stone to log through a very sensible angle.”

The Logan Stone, in fact, requires management, and a knowledge of its disposition, in the person attempting to rock it. On the day we visited it, one of the guides made it vibrate for several minutes by merely pressing his back against one end, whereas four gentlemen, strangers, exerted all their united strength without succeeding in making the stone move in the least degree.

This stone was thrown down, in 1824, by some seamen, but was afterwards raised again into its original position by order of the admiralty. It is said that it does not rock so well now as it did previously to its overthrow, and its appearance is certainly injured by the stone underneath it having been broken off at the edges in the process of re-erection. This stone is finely situated on the top of one of the cliffs in the narrow promontory of rocks which juts out into the sea beyond Treryn Castle. This promontory consists of three separate groups of rocks, extending nearly in a line from the castle to the sea.

The Logan Stone is situated on the island side of the middle group, and on the rocks opposite to it, nearer the castle, are two large rock-basons, about fifty yards asunder. That to the east is formed like a sofa, is about fourty inches wide, and is called the Giant’s Chair. The other is known as the Giant’s Lady’s Chair, and the tradition is that they would repose for hours in these easy seats, lovingly conversing with each other.

Treryn castle and these rocks were formerly inhabited by three giants, one lady and two gentlemen; but the latter quarrelled, I presume for the possession of the fair one, and one of them “stabbed the other in the belly with a knife,” to use the words of my informant, an octogenarian who evidently believed the tale. After this occurence, the two remaining members of the party lived happily there for many years.

This is the only Cornish tradition I have met with in which a female giant is introduced. The introduction of the incident of stabbing with a knife, the Anglo-Saxon and old English term for dagger, seems to indicate that this tradition is of great antiquity. There is a cavity underneath one of the rocks here which is called the Giant’s Cave.

Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

The village herbalists and rural advisers have not entirely fallen into disrepute. Many are the remedies, some no doubt beneficial, recommended by them. The use of some, however, are equivocal. Thus rheumatism is attempted to be cured by a “boiled thunderbolt;” in other words, a boiled celt, supposed to be a thunderbolt. This is boiled for hours, and the water then dispensed to rheumatic patients. I know not whether it be a libel that one old woman, who employed this remedy, used to express her astonishment that, keep the saucepan on the fire as long as she would, none of the celt would ever boil away.

J O Halliwell-Phillipps reporting in Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants (1861).

Hither, on the first Wednesday in May, are still annually brought crippled or maimed children. At that period a bath is formed in front of the well by stopping up the course of the little stream with pieces of turf. Each child is stripped, and then made to drop a pin into the well itself, previously to being immersed three times in the bath. My informant, a native of the parish, told me that he had hardly, if ever, known the process to fail in giving relief. He also told me that the well was sometimes called the Giant’s Well, – a title that seems inconsistent with the attribution of such great virtues.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O HAlliwell-Phillipps (1861).

On the next hill, the dreary one of Bartinney, is a monument of somewhat similar description [with a vallum and ditch], but it is in a sad state of ruin and nearly overgrown with turf and furze. The wide vallum that surrounded it can, however, be distinctly traced, as may be also the three circular enclosures near the centre, all mentioned and figured by Borlase.

There is a tradition that there were rows of seats on the inner side of the vallum, and that games or plays were performed in the centre.

According to another, hence came the giants of Bosworlas Lehau, when they were inclined for a little recreation.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

From Tresvenack we crossed the fields and moor in the direction of Mousehole, to visit another stone [..] preserved in a field adjoining the farm-house of Chyanhall. This is a block of unhewn granite, irregularly shaped, nine feet in eight, eight feet in circumference near the base, but tapering towards the top in a wedge-like form.

It now answers the ignoble purpose of a rubbing-post for the cattle; but that it was not one originally is clear, not only from its large size, but from the tradition of the neighbourhood that it is a memorial belonging to very ancient times. The labour of moving and erecting such large blocks preclude, as a general rule, any such supposition. A very old man at the farm informed me that it had been there all his days, and had always been spoken of as a stone erected by “the ancient people.”

Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

.. the celebrated stone circle called the Dawns Men, the Dance Stones, or, popularly, the Merry Maidens. This is a very perfect circle of nineteen stones which average about three feet and a-half in height above the ground, the circle itself being nearly seventy feet in diameter.

There are various country traditions which account for the existence of these stones. Some say that they were maidens who were transformed into stones for dancing on the Lord’s Day. Others assert that a man is buried under each stone. All, however, agree that the stones are placed there by supernatural agency, and that it is impossible to remove them.

An old man at Boleigh, who informed us that a farmer, having removed two or three of the stones on one occasion, was astonished to see them in their old places the next morning, was evidently displeased at the account being inconsiderately received with a smile of incredulity.

Another story respecting them is, that an attempt to drag them out of their places, although a vast horse or oxen power was engaged, utterly failed, and that the cattle employed in the task fell down, and shortly after died.

[...]

The Dawns Men were no doubt so called by the country people because the stones are placed in the order in which persons arranged themselves for an ancient dance, termed Trematheeves, which continued in vogue in Cornwall as late as the last century. Hence also probably originated the legend above mentioned; although it is to be observed that similar tales are current elsewhere to account for such-like circles of stones in Wales and other countries.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

A few minutes’ walk from the Fogou, immediately after passing the wretched little hamlet of Boleigh, brings the tourist to the two remarkable stones called the Pipers; giant musicians turned into stone for playing on the sabbath to the dance at which the Merry Maidens were similarly transformed.

The pipers are two huge pillars of granite, about three hundred yards asunder, and are conspicuous objects in the surrounding locality. Another tradition reports that they mark the site of a final victory obtained by Athelstan over the Cornishmen; but, unfortunately for the probability of this, there is no good evidence to show that he was ever in this county.

They are figured in Borlase, p. 164. Sometimes they are called the Giant’s Rocks, and are stated to be the sepulchral memorials of two giants; and occasionally the Giant’s Grave, as if they were the head and foot stones of the sepulchre of one giant.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

The grid reference may be fractionally out, but these rocks are definitely somewhere in the wood – hopefully next to the public footpath!

Trevella Carn, between two and three miles from Newlyn, is an object worthy of a walk. After passing through Newlyn on the Paul road, take the way to Buryan through the small hamlet of Sheffield, after passing which the first turning to the right leads direct to Trevella. The carn is situated a little to the right of the road.

Its summit is over nearly perpendicular rocks, at the bottom of which is a large cavity, formed by a large rock leaning against the main part of the pile, known by the country people as the Giant’s House. On the top of this carn are several rock-basons.

Mmm rock basins. From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

Another little folklore snippet is that in William Bottrell’s long story in ‘Traditions and Hearthside Stories’ called ‘The Dwelling of Chenance’, he mentions that “people say, you know, that the devil’s huntsman and his hounds have often been seen (after hunting Trevella and Mimmis carns) to come down over the moor and vanish in the Clodgey pool. So maybe that might have been a local tale too. Mimmis Carn is eluding me, though H-P says it’s ‘a little distance from this carn, nearer St. Paul’. He says ‘upon it is a disposition of a rock in the form of a seat, called the Giant’s Chair. Near this was an ancient circle of upright stones, which was removed about twenty years ago.‘

About half-a-mile to the south of Carn Kenidjack is an ancient stone circle, about sixty feet in diameter, consisting of twelve upright stones, which are on the average three feet in height above the surface of the ground. The country people generally call this circle of stones the Merry Maidens.

The map calls the area ‘Nine Maidens Common’.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell Phillipps (1861).

Bosworlas Lehau, the flat stones of Bosworlas, called by the country people the Giant’s Quoits, are about two miles beyond the monuments last named [at Trannock Downs]. They consist of several very large granite rocks, on the tops of which are numerous rock basons. Borlase, p. 180, mentions “a natural logan-stone in the large heap of rocks called Bosworlas Lehau;” but this is no longer to be discovered. The same writer says that the country people called the largest rock-bason at Bosworlas, a circular one six feet in diameter, the Giant’s Chair. Another one, of a similar kind, in the neighbouring rocks at Bosavern, was also said to have formed a seat for a giant. The Giant’s Chair is still shown at Bosworlas, as are also the Giant’s Table, and his steps leading up into the chair. Bosworlas Lehau looks at a distance as if it consisted of one immense flat piece of granite on the top of a large carn.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

Shortly before reaching New Bridge, – in a field known as the Barn Field, which is next the road on the left-hand side, adjoining some new farm-buildings called Tremayne, – are two memorial stones between nine and ten feet asunder. The largest is of unhewn granite, irregularly shaped, six feet in height, and averaging about seven feet in circumference. The other stone, nearer the road, is still more irregularly shaped, and tapers nearly to a point at the top. This one is five feet and a-half high above the ground. These stones are figured by Borlase, ed. 1769, p. 164, together with a plan of their position in respect to a grave discovered between them, the whole being termed by him a “sepulchral monument at Trewren in Maddern.”

Borlase informs us that, “upon searching the ground between these two stones, October 21st 1752, the diggers presently found a pit six feet long, two feet nine wide, and four feet six deep. Near the bottom it was full of black greasy earth, but no bone to be seen. This grave came close to the westernmost and largest stone, next to which, I imagine, the head of the interred lay.”

The tradition of the locality is that the stones mark the grave of a warrior.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

In the Tenement of Lanyon stand three Stones-erect on a triangular Plan. The shape, size, distance and bearing, will best be discerned from the plan and elevation of them (Plate XIV. Fig. I. and II.) The middle Stone (A) is thin and flat, fixed in the ground, on its edge, and in the middle has a large hole one foot two inches diameter, whence it is called the Men an Tol (in Cornish the holed Stone); on each side is a rude Pillar, about four foot high; and one of these Pillars (B) has a long Stone lying without it (C), like a cushion, or pillow, as if to kneel upon. This Monument as is plain from its structure, could be of no use, but to superstition. But to what particular superstitious Rite it was appropriated is uncertain, though not unworthy of a short enquiry.

[...] It is not improbable, but this holed Stone (consecrated, as by its structure and present uses it seems to have been) might have served several delusive purposes. I apprehend that it served for Libations, served to initiate, and dedicate Children to the Offices of Rock-Worship, by drawin gthem through this hole, and also to purify the Victim before it was sacrificed; and considering the many lucrative juggles of the Druids (which are confirmed by their Monuments) it is not wholly improbable, that some miraculous Restoration of health, might be promised to the people for themselves and children, upon proper pecuniary gratifications, provided that, at a certain season of the Moon, and whilst a Priest officiated at one of the Stones adjoining, with prayers adapted to the occasion, they would draw their infirm children through this hole.

It is not improbable, but this Stone might be also fo the oracular kind; all which may, in some measure, be confirmed by the present, though very simple, uses, to which it is applied by the common people.

When I was last at this Monument, in the year 1749, a very intelligent farmer of the neighbourhood assured me, that he had known many persons who had crept through this holed Stone for pains in their back and limbs; and that fanciful parents, at certain times of the year, do customarily draw their young Children through, in order to cure them of Rickets. He shewed me also two brass pins, carefully layed a-cross each other, on the top-edge of the holed Stone. This is the way of the Over-curious, even at this time; and by recurring to these Pins, and observing their direction to be the same, or different from what they left them in, or by their being lost or gone, they are informed of some material incident of Love or Fortune, which they could not know soon enough in a natural way, and immediately take such resolutions as their informations from these prophetical Stones suggest.

From the alternately imaginative and sceptical sounding William Borlase’s 1769 Antiquities, Historical and Monumental, of the County of Cornwall.

In the neighbourhood of the castle may be traced the obscure remains of several specimens of the edifices generally termed British huts. The country folks call them “the huts of the old people,” – a traditional name agreeing with the results of recent investigation. Upon excavating one of them, there were found a small quantity of charred wood, a great number of burnt stones, and as many fragments of pottery as filled a small bason.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

The dimensions of the cap-stone are thus given by Borlase: – “This quoit is more than forty-seven feet in girt, and nineteen feet long; its thickness in the middle on the eastern edge is sixteen inches, at each end not so much, but at the western edge it is two feet thick.”
The cromlech is sometimes called by the country people the Giant’s Quoit, and occasionally the Giant’s Table. My measurement made the covering-stone forty-six feet in circumference, with a thickness varying from ten to eighteen inches. It is not improbable that the stone has been chipped off at one or two of the corners since the time of Borlase. Between the cromlech and the road are the remains of a stone and earth circular barrow about eighteen feet in diameter.

There is an odd tradition that the first battle fought in England was decided in the locality of Lanyon Quoit.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants by J O Halliwell-Phillips (1861).

The hill on the left-hand side is noted as having once had on its summit that “notable treble intrenchment of earth called Lescaddock Castle, that name referring to Cadock, earl of Cornwall, whose broad camp or castle of war it was, as tradition faith.” Some write the name, Lescudjack, and others, Lesgud-zhek; the latter explained by Borlase as the “Castle of the Bloody Field.” The provincial name of it was “The Giant’s Rounds.” The only portion of this fortification now remaining is a large raised circular mound, enclosing several fields. The mound is nearly perfect, and there is a pathway outside it which was probably the site of the original intrenchment.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants, by J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

At a quarter of a mile from Sennen is the hamlet of Mayon, an insignificant assemblage of a few cottages, only deserving notice as containing a celebrated block of granite, three feet thick, with a flat top measuring about seven feet by six, called Mayon Table. The stone is at the back of a small blacksmith’s shop, and the tradition is that seven Saxon kings, about the year 600, paying a visit to Cornwall to see the Land’s End, dined at this table. Ethelbert, king of Kent, was one, and the most celebrated of the sovereigns at this the earliest recorded picnic at the Land’s End.

According to another version of the tradition, only three kings dined at the Mayon Table on that occasion; and there is a prophecy of Merlin to the effect that a larger number of crowned heads will one day be assembled at dinner around this rock previously to some great catastrophe, or to the destruction of the world itself.

From Rambles in Western Cornwall by the Footsteps of the Giants, by J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps (1861).

A hunter was pursuing a deer one day. Over hill and dale he chased, never getting any nearer to it, although he repeatedly galloped faster. At last, drawing his bow, he shot an arrow at it, exclaiming, “Should you be the devil himself I will pursue thee till eternity.”
The deer struck by the arrow halted at the entrance of the dolmen and turned into a maiden of dazzling beauty.
“Have thee thy wish,” she cried. “Thou shalt hunt for ever.”
She vanished and the huntsman, it is said, may still be seen careering madly on a white horse, bow in hand, after an invisible quarry.

Another story relates to the days of Druidism.
It was the custom of this particular sect of Druids to offer up to the sun human sacrifices two or three times a year. Usually the victims were criminals or prisoners captured in war.
On one occasion the larder of victims was bare – not a criminal, not a prisoner of war. One of the priestesses who did the butchering was a young and lovely girl.
“No victims,” she said. “Then you shall have my youngest brother.”
Screaming with horror the boy was placed on a flat altar stone in the mouth of the dolmen and the priestess sharpened her knife in anticipation of the cruel deed entrusted to her.
The boy pleaded in vain for his life.
“Were you God himself I would kill thee,” his sister said.
Just as she was about to plunge her knife into his helpless body, he cursed her.
“May your soul be doomed to haunt this spot for ever,” he cried.
Quite unmoved, she ripped his stomach open and then calmly and slowly cut his throat.
She did not survive him long. For her impious words and in fulfilment of his curse she was doomed to haunt for ever the Fairy Rock.

Tradition also has it that round the rock, with hands clasped, lovely fairy girls used to dance and sing nightly, when the moon was full and the stars shone brightly. On one occasion a country swain stood watching them and was so enraptured that he knelt down and worshipped them.
“Go home,” they cried, “and see what awaits there.”
He tore himself reluctantly away, and went home to find to his great surprise, a large box full of gold coins, a gift from the fairies. He was a rich man.
He spent his money quickly and when it was all gone, he visited the Fairy Rock night after night, but he never saw the fairies again.

Certainly not the usual Victorian language, but still revelling in Druidic gruesomeness: The Midnight Hearse and more Ghosts by Elliott O’Donnell (1965).

Mr. C. E. Ponting writes that in 1889 he noticed that this hill appeared from the Pewsey Vale of a bright yellow colour, caused by a mass of yellow Ladies’ Fingers (Lotus corniculatus?) in flower, with which the whole hill was covered. He suggests that this is the origin of the name.

Possibly not so comprehensively explained as the other idea on this page. Some may think it more convincing. But where’s the ball.

In the Wiltshire Arch. and Nat. Hist. Magazine for 1897 (v24).

Yet another boulder with a name in the vicinity of Bourtie and its circles. A report from the Boulder Committee of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (1872) mentions it:

Boulder, about 20 tons. Longer axis E. and W. Called “Bell Stane,” the church bell having once hung from a post erected in it.

There’s a picture on the Canmore website which shows it in 1902, and calls it The Bell Rock. And on a 25” map from 1900 it gets called Bellman’s Stone, so it has a variety of similarish names to choose from. Maybe someone should go and tap it to see if it’s really called the Bell Stone because it rings. Or, since we’re in Scotland, could it even be a Bel stone like Beltane. I mean maybe you would ring a bell from it, though you’d think it’d be better to ring it from the church itself – it seems a bit like a convenient way to Christianise it perhaps. Ah the realms of speculative folklore etymology.

Perhaps, unless we except the so-called “Druidical” Standing-stone in Balinoe, the oldest memorial in Tyree, older even than the Culdee Churches, is the Clach a Choire, the ringing-stone – literally the “kettle” stone- which stands a little removed from the shore near Balephetrish, not far from the old marble quarries. It is a mass of stone, roughly cubical, balanced upon one edge, and computed to weigh about ten tons. When struck, no matter where, or however slightly, it sends forth a clear ringingnote. The people have a tradition that the stone is hollow and contains gold, but happily they have also another tradition to the effect that when the ringing-stone is cleft, Tyree will sink. On the surface of the stone are some thirty circular indentations, which I think most persons familiar with such things in other places, would unhesitatingly suppose to be cup-markings, but which, it is only fair to say, are also explained away as traces of many years of experimental stone-tapping. Apart from the fact that it seems hardly likely that even in the course of ages, native curiosity would compass so prominent a result, there is nothing to differentiate this rock from others admittedly “cup-marked” elsewhere, and they are found in great numbers in the British Isles and in Scandinavia.

From The Outer Isles by A Goodrich-Freer, 1902.

I rather like the wording of this earlier commentary on the rock:

At Balphetrish there is the famous Ringing Stone. Its dimensions are 7 feet by 6 square, and 4 1/2 feet thick. It is of a dull grey colour, very hard and compact, and totally different from the surrounding rocks. It is evidently spotted with stars of black mica. Its hardness is so great that it is not possible with a common hammer to break off even the smallest bit. It is not intersected by any vein or cutter. Its solidity and equal texture must account for the clear metallic sound, for when struck on any place with a stone or a hammer, it sounds or rings like brass or cast iron. It has for ages past excited the admiration of the common people.

It excites my admiration too and I’d definitely like to see it, but I would try to resist trying to break a bit off.
From The Scots Magazine volume 60 (1798).

Sensigl or Senigl means ‘Ox-eye daisy’. But the field looks a bit devoid of them in the photos. Maybe there’s some further up the hill.

Following on from Fitzcoraldo’s quote, it says:

According to another account, the stones do not actually represent the Apostles, only ‘it is allowed that the Apostles put them there’! and it was the farmer himself who wished to take away all the stones, but was stopped by the proprietor.

This is a report from the Rev. W.C. Lukis, who’d been sent on a Survey of various megalithic monuments of Scotland, Cumberland, and Westmoreland in the summer of 1884. The sort of mission I’m sure many contributors here would have been quite happy to assist with.