Rhiannon

Stoney connections and more on the well. The ‘great flat stones’ call to mind Moss’s post below.

Adjoining the church is the chapel of St. Beuno. The passage to it is a narrow vault covered with great flat stones, and of far greater antiquity than either church or chapel; which seem nearly coeval. [...] In the midst is the tomb of the saint, plain, and altar-shaped. Votaries were wont to have great faith in him, and did not doubt but that by means of a night’s lodging on his tomb, a cure would be found for all diseases. It was customary to cover it with rushes, and leave on it till morning sick children, after making them first undergo ablution in the neighbouring holy well; and I myself once saw on it a feather bed, on which a poor paralytic from Meirioneddshire had lain the whole night, after undergoing the same ceremony.

From Tours in Wales by Thomas Pennant, written in the late 18th century. By the time the edition in the link was published in the 1880s, the tomb had gone.

There are some recent photos of Ffynnon Beuno at the super Well Hopper website.

Also, a link where you can read about the offerings of special bullocks with slits in their ears in depth: in Baring Gould’s ‘Lives of the British Saints‘ here.

I admit this may be a bit unconvincing. But the Gwynedd Archaeological Trust do list it as an ‘alleged barrow’. So it may yet be there, and it may yet be something prehistoric.

Bach ab Carwed or Carwyd was the founder of Eglwys Fach [...] the parish is situated partly in Denbighshire and partly in Carnarvonshire [...] He is supposed to have been a Northern chieftain and warrior, who, retiring into North Wales, fixed upon this sequestered spot, and dedicated the close of his life to religion. [...]

Edward Lhuyd in his Itinerary of Wales (1698-9) says that Bach killed a certain wild beast which was the cause of much annoyance to the inhabitants on the banks of the Carrog near the church. The beast was a kind of wild boar, and they called it Carrog. A little after the slaughter Bach happened to kick the monster’s head, but through contact with one of its tusks bruised his foot, and died of the wound (cf. the case of Diarmait in the Irish legend). Another version represents this monstrous boar, which played the part of a mediaeval dragon, as having been killed by the united action of the inhabitants. There is yet another tradition, which attributes its slaughter to S. Beuno, who paid Eglwys Fach a special visit for the purpose. According to this, Carrog somewhat resembled a flying serpent, which made its appearance in the daytime, kidnapping and eating children. S. Beuno, from the church tower, directed an arrow to the tender spot on its throat – the only vulnerable part on its body – and this took fatal effect. There is a tumulus, called Bedd Carrog, at Eglwys Fach, which tradition points out as the monster’s grave. The word carrog means a brook or torrent and is the name of some half a dozen streams in Wales. A good number of the Welsh river names bear a “swine” signification, or are in some way or another associated by legend with swine.

From Lives of the British Saints by Sabine Baring-Gould (1907).

A bit more about St Aelhaiarn’s well, one of the springs below the fort. This is from Lives of the British Saints by Sabine Baring-Gould (1907).

S. Aelhaiarn’s well is an oblong trough of good pure water, by the road side, in which the sick were wont to bathe, and there are seats of stone ranged along the sides for the accommodation of the patients awaiting the “troubling of the waters,” when they might step in, full of confidence, in expectation of a cure.

This “troubling of the waters” is a singular phenomenon. At irregular intervals, and at various points in the basin, the crystal water suddenly wells up, full of sparkling bubbles. Then ensues a lull, and again a swell of water occurs in another part of the tank. This is locally called “the laughing of the water,” and it is said in the place that the water laughs when any one looks at it.

The Well now supplies the village with water. It was walled round and roofed by the Parish Council in 1900, after an outbreak of diphtheria in the village. The entrance is now kept locked.

Baring-Gould’s book also gives the saint’s story from the Itineraries of John Ray (1760). Please indulge me as it is so full of ancient weirdness.

“We were told a legend of one St. Byno , who lived at Clenogvaur, and was wont to foot it four Miles in the Night to Llaynhayrne, and there, on a stone, in the midst of the River, to say his Prayers; whereon they show you still the Prints of his Knees. His Man, out of Curiosity, followed him once to the Place, to see and observe what he did. The Saint coming from his Prayers, and espying a Man, not knowing who it was, prayed, that if he came with a good Intent, he might receive the Good he came for, and might suffer no Damage; but if he had any ill Design, that some Example might be shown upon him; whereupon presently there came forth wild Beasts, and tore him in pieces.

Afterwards, the Saint peceiving it was his own Servant, was very sorry, gathering up his Bones, and praying, he set Bone to Bone, and Limb to Limb, and the Man became whole again, only the part of the Bone under the Eyebrow was wanting; the Saint, to supply that Defect, applied the Iron of his Pike-staff to the Place, and thence, that Village was called Llanvilhayrne.

But for a punishment to his Man (after he had given him Llanvilhayrne) he prayed (and obtained his Prayer) that Clenogvaur Bell might be heard as far as Llanvilhayrne Churchyard, but upon stepping into the Church it was to be heard no longer; this the People hereabout assert with much Confidence, upon their own experience, to be true. The Saint was a South Wales Man, and when he died, the South Wales Men contended with the Clenogvaur Men for his Body, and continued the Contention till Night; next Morning there were two Biers and two Coffins there, and so the South Wales Men carried one away, and the Clenogvaur Men the other.”

The story of the restoration of Aelhaiarn out of his bones, one small bone being missing, is an adaptation of a very ancient myth. It occurs in the Prose Edda of Thor on his journey to Jotunhein. It is found elsewhere. The duplication of the body of Beuno has its counterpart in the triplication of that of Teilo.

Something a bit older, from ‘Memoires of the Family of Finney, of Fulshaw, (near Wilmslow) Cheshire, by Samuel Finney of Fulshaw, Esquire’, 1787. It’s printed in The Cheshire and Lancashire Historical Collector no. 11 (November 1853).

Lower down the Hill, just below the Beacon, is a Spring of very clear Sweet Water, that issues pretty plentifully out of the Rock, called the Holy Well, which, no doubt, in times of Superstition, had its Virtues, which are now unknown, though many young people, in the Summer time, resort to it in parties, and regale themselves with this water, which is still supposed to have a prolific quality in it.

There are at least nine wells at different parts of the Edge, the more conspicuous being the Wizard Well and the Holy Well. These, and especially the latter, were in ancient times connected with well-worship, and propitiatory offerings were made by people to the presiding deities, and also were frequently resorted to in Christian times, but doubtless the cult was observed here in much earlier days.

Their healing powers were considered to be unfailing; the barren, the blind, the lame, and bodily-afflicted constantly made their way thither; maidens whispered their vows and prayers over them, their lovers and their future lives being their theme. Crooked silver coins were dropped into the well, but these have been cleared out long ago.

At the present time the devotees are satisfied, in their economical habit, to offer mere pins and hairpins; the custom is not dead yet, for some of the immersed pins are still quite uncorroded and bright. Some of the sex deposit the pins in their straight and original form, others bend them only at right angle, and as many again seem to consider the charm alone to act effectively when carefully and conscientiously doubled up. Maidens of a more superficial cast just give the slightest twist to the object.

To judge from the state of corrosion, and the old-fashioned thick, globular heads, some of these pins must have been in the well for at least sixty years. We have brought three cases to show the various forms into which the visitors have tortured the pins, and classified them into groups. There are occasionally to be seen also a few white pebbles in the two wells.

From Recent archaeological discoveries at Alderley Edge by C Roeder and F S Graves, in the Transactions of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society for 1905 (v23). I seem to remember that Alan Garner said he got his pocket-money from (the Wizard’s?) well when he was a child.

The Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society had an outing here in May 1911. The ‘extensive prospect’ was ‘said to include thirteen counties’ (quite a claim). Sadly, ‘the summer haze prevented any such view at the time’.

Connected with Carn Brea Castle (the relic of which, now standing, bears but the shadow of the name), there has been, from a remote period of Cornish history, handed down from father to son, a legend [...] to the following effect:-
“I, John of Gaunt,
Do give the graunt
Of all my land and fee;
From me and mine-
To thee and thine-
Thou Basset of Bumberlie.”
This “John of Gaunt” was believed to be about the last of the giants (whether mystical or real) who once peopled Cornwall, and he resided in the Castle on the “Brea.” He could stride –
“From Carn Brea Castle to Tuckingmill Stile,”
a distance of several miles.

In

... the manor and see
Of Umberleigh,
And in token of my truth,
Do seal it with my tooth.”

– Umberleigh being the ancient seat of the Bassett family, near Barnstaple.

Fitzcoraldo’s story appears pretty much word for word in ‘The Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore and Legend’ for December 1889 (p 548-550). It’s followed immediately by this:

We may observe that what is commonly known as Fairy Butter is a certain fungous excrescence sometimes found about the roots of old trees. After great rains, and in a particular state of putrifaction, it is reduced to a consistency which, together with its colour, makes it not unlike butter; hence its name. When met with inside houses it is reckoned lucky. Why so, we cannot tell.

To the south-east of the village, near the river Codbeck, is a tumulus, popularly called “pudding pye hill;” the origin of which had long been a disputed point, some affirming it to be the remains of a watchtower pertaining to the Castle of Thirsk, others maintaining its sepulchral character. This dispute was finally set at rest in August, 1855, when Lady Frankland Russell the owner, employed a number of men, under the superintendence of Mr. James Ruddock of Pickering, to excavate the hill. [...]

The popular legend is -- that this hill was raised by the Fairies, who had their residence within; and if any person should run nine times round it, and then stick a knife into the centre of the top, then place their ear to the ground, they would hear the Fairies conversing inside.

From The Vale of Mowbray by William Grainge (1859).

When I first mentioned the Cadbury mound to my Auntie Bridie, she recounted a story from the 1950s about a man suffering a heart attack while felling one of the trees that grew upon it. This was attributed to the fairies taking retribution. More recently, I came across an account of a man who dug the ‘fairy mound’ and broke his leg. Another version of this tale tells of a strange face that appears under the branches of one of the trees at Hallowe’en and is thought to be that of a man who attempted to dig the mound and went missing that night. That these ‘suburban myths’ persist reveals much about local people’s regard for the past.

From Michael Stanley’s article ‘Chocolate and Community Archaeology’ in Archaeology Ireland (v25, no. 4, Winter 2011).

A subterranean passage was said to exist between the abbey [of Hailes] and Coscomb, and also to Beckbury, the camp above Hailes Wood; but no one in the present day can point out the whereabouts.

From the Transactions of the Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Society for 1884-5.

The 12th century version of the story, in William of Newburgh’s “History”, book 1, chapter 28, ‘of certain prodigies’:

In the province of the Deiri, also, not far from the place of my nativity, an extraordinary event occurred, which I have known from my childhood. There is a village, some miles distant from the Eastern Ocean, near which those famous waters, commonly called Gipse, spring from the ground at various sources (not constantly, indeed, but every alternate year), and, forming a considerable current, glide over the low lands into the sea: it is a good sign when these streams are dried up, for their flowing is said unquestionably to portend the disaster of a future scarcity. A certain rustic belonging to the village, going to see his friend, who resided in the neighboring hamlet, was returning, a little intoxicated, late at night; when, behold, he heard, as it were, the voice of singing and reveling on an adjacent hillock, which I have often seen, and which is distant from the village only a few furlongs. Wondering who could be thus disturbing the silence of midnight with noisy mirth, he was anxious to investigate the matter more closely; and perceiving in the side of the hill an open door, he approached, and, looking in, he beheld a house, spacious and lighted up, filled with men and women, who were seated, as it were, at a solemn banquet. One of the attendants, perceiving him standing at the door, offered him a cup: accepting it, he wisely forbore to drink; but, pouring out the contents, and retaining the vessel, he quickly departed. A tumult arose among the company, on account of the stolen cup, and the guests pursued him; but he escaped by the fleetness of his steed, and reached the village with his extraordinary prize. It was a vessel of an unknown material, unusual color, and strange form: it was offered as a great present to Henry the elder, king of England and then handed over to the queen’s brother, David, king of Scotland, and deposited for many years among the treasures of his kingdom; and, a few years since, as we have learnt from authentic relation, it was given up by William, king of the Scots, to Henry II, on his desiring to see it.

Online at Fordham University’s Internet History Sourcebooks Project.

Household Tales with Other Traditional Remains by S O Addy (1895) says that

There is a stone called “the wishing stone” in a wood known as the Faybrick at Ashover, in Derbyshire. If you sit upon it and wish three times your wish will be granted.

I think it’s less of a wood now, but it’s marked on old maps as Fabrick Wood, and the stone is renowned locally if the discussions on Rootsweb are anything to go by. Some say it was used to build the church (which is 14th century) which gives a bit of a holy link. But it’s pronounced ‘Fay Brick’ – could it be named after the fairies? The rootsweb forum mentions someone local who ‘always believed it was a ‘fairy stone’.’ Just be careful with the wishing. You might get what you ask for.

The third [fort in the area] is much defaced but of greater note. It is called Doonmeeve on the maps, but Doonmihil and Dooneeva, locally. There are two segments of curved fosses coming out at a slope near the shore; they are cut through drift, and when a block of shale was met with it was neatly cut to the slope of the bank. the inner is dry, but a water runnel courses down the outer one. They are 6’ to 10’ deep and wide at the bottom in parts, the inner 28’, and the outer 20’ wide at the top. The bank between these is 22’ wide at the top. It probably enclosed a space on the cliffs, and could hardly be a promontory fort whose promontory was washed away by the unresting sea. Bronze implements have been found on the shore at the foot of the cliff which bounds its enclosure.

A very curious tradition as told us in the neighbourhood. A certain man, in not very remote past years, began to dig up the space inside its trenches, before he had been long at work he fell down and lay to all appearance dead. News was brought at once to his wife a reputed “wise woman,” who was evidently equal to the emergency. She rushed to the nearest fairy spot, did magic, and ran to Dooneva to her apparently lifeless husband. She then addressed herself to the unseen inhabitants of the fort and imperiously ordered them to bring back her husband at once. Rapidly as the deceased brother of the unvirtuous de Birchington, of Ingoldsby, the insensible man sat up and recovered complete strength, while a stick was carried off in his stead. After all the story in its facts, apart from their deductions, may very well have happened, and even the charms may have been done in as good faith as many others worked to our personal knowledge.

In Thomas Johnson Westropp’s Ancient Remains Near Lehinch, Co. Clare, online at Limerick City Library.

There’s a rather amusing photo of the author posing amidst ancient stones (and clutching his umbrella in a prepared fashion) on Wikipedia.

I wonder if the ‘stick carried off in his stead’ alludes to when the fairies replace healthy babies with a ‘stock’, a lump of wood disguised to look and act like a sickly baby.

From that spa-town [Lisdoonvarna] we go eastward, crossing the river valley, and seeing on a bold bluff a lofty mound – a reputed “fairy hill.”

Lissateeaun, Lis an tsidhean, the fairy fort, lies in a townland called Gowlaun, from the “fork” (Gabhal) of the stream. It is a mote-like mound, shaped out of the natural bluff, but raised and rounded so as to form a high flat-topped platform sufficiently imposing as seen from the road bridge to the east. A shallow fosse runs round it on the side of the plateau in a semicircle. There are no other mounds or hut sites, nor is it easy to fix its actual height, as it runs into the natural slopes. The summit lies about 400 feet above the sea.

Its resemblance to a burial mound may have helped its reputation as a sidh, but it very probably was, if not in origin, at least in use, a true lis or residential fort, as its name implies. Sidhean in Co. Clare living usage, by the way, implies rather a passing gust or whirl of wind in which the fairies travel. It is a prophylactic usage to bow or take off your hat as the gust reaches you.

The fort is reputed to give its name to the Castle of Lisdoonvarna, “the fortified fort of the gap.” The gap is the river gully, and the levelled ring wall at the head of the slope to the north is Caherbarna.

From Thomas Johnson Westropp’’s article on the Burren in Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland v 5 (sixth series) 1915.

Above the stone and the houses here is Parc Common and its modern gorsedd circle.

Carreg Fasnach
A spot, with a natural outcrop of rock, where tradition has it that Machynlleth markets were held during an outbreak of plague, the money used in barter being washed in the adjoining brook, called Nant yr Arian. -- Visited, 20th April, 1910.

An inventory of the ancient and historical monuments of the county of Montgomery (1911).

There are here two white stones, known as ‘y fuwch wen a’r llo,’ ‘the white cow and calf,’ standing close to one another on the moorland near the source of the Severn. They are best approached from Eisteddfa Gurig. The larger of the stones is 6 feet high, and the smaller 4 feet high. no local tradition would seem to be connected with them. -- Visited, 5th July, 1910.

An Inventory of the Ancient and Historical Monuments of the County of Montgomeryshire.

Ffynnon Geiliog.

A well situated about 20 yards to the west of the camp on Allt Dolanog, of great popular resort on Trinity Sunday. The name (’The Cock Well’) may have been derived from the practice of cock fighting which was carried on close to the spring.

An inventory of the ancient and historical monuments of Montgomery (1911).

Lled Croen yr Ych, ‘the Width of the Ox’s Hide’.

The tradition explanatory of this name is thus given by the late Mr. Richard Williams, F.R.hist.S.: “Once upon a time two ‘ychain bannawg’ (long-horned oxen) were separated, one being placed on the top of this mountain and the other on the top of the hill between Llanbrynmair and the Cemmes; that the two bellowed to each other until both died of grief because of their separation, and that the one which died here was skinned, and his skin spread out over the spot where he was buried, this circle of stones being set up to mark its dimensions” (’Hist. of the Parish of Llanbrynmair,‘ Mont. Coll., 1888, xxii, 308).

Quoted in An inventory of the ancient and historical monuments of the county of Montgomery (1911).

Near the top of the hill is a huge stone in the hedge to the right of the road. This is the Buck Stone, and in olden days, when the passengers used to toil up the hill behind the coach, a practical joke was often played on guileless travellers. They used to be told to put their heads near the stone to listen to the tide coming in over the Bay miles away, and if they did so their heads were knocked against the stone. Now the narrow old coach road is private, but Mr. Bainbridge at Greenlands Farm would allow anyone to inspect the stone if desired.

From T Pape’s Warton and George Washington’s Ancestors

(1913).

I can’t see this marked on a map so I’ve given it the grid reference for the Dog Holes cave for now.

Not far from the Dog Lots is a large natural seat in the face of a great limestone boulder, which towers to a height of eleven feet. The seat will accommodate three or four people, and is known as the Bride’s Chair. It was customary years ago when a marriage took place at Warton Church for the bridal party to repair to this spot and for the bride to sit in this seat and look out over the wide expanse of Morecambe Bay. By doing so happiness in their married life was ensured to the newly wedded couple.

Almost sheer down two hundred feet below is the road to Silverdale, and in the direction of that village can be seen the large stone column at Jenny Brown point.

From Warton and George Washington’s Ancestors by T Pape (1913).

I think this stone and its tradition was mentioned in Lucas’s history of Warton, written in the first half of the 18th century (but i’ve not seen a copy – in fact, has anybody, full stop?!).

The Dog Holes Cave is known locally as “Three-fingered Jack’s Cave.” According to tradition the cave consisted of two storeys and a highwayman used one for his horse and the other for himself.

From Warton and George Washington’s Ancestors by T Pape (1913).

On the eastern side of Warton Crag is a small fissure cave situated in the face of a cliff immediately below one of the numerous limestone terraces. It is called the Fairy Hole, which trends for twenty-five feet in a north-easterly direction. In this cave also there were fragmentary human remains. According to report the cave extends to Leighton Hall. It certainly does not come to a full stop at the limit of twenty-five feet. If more debris were removed the chamber would open up considerably.

Old people used to tell of the fairies, having been seen by other old people, dancing about heaps of gold or silver or bleaching fine linen or they were frequently heard batting their clothes. There are still some of the old people in the village who believe that the passage from the Fairy Hole extends to Leighton Hall.

From Warton and George Washington’s Ancestors by T Pape (1913).