Rhiannon

Canmore describes how there was a fort covering the summit of this hill – only the south side is easily approached because the other sides are so steep. It’s just over 200m NNE of the parish church, where there was once a stone:

A large stone, popularly called the “Witches’ Stone,” stood upright, near the church, in a field on Lodge-house farm.* The tradition is that a witch flying with it, to demolish Craigie Kirk, her apron strings gave way, and it fell down on the spot which it afterwards occupied. It was in all probability a druidical remain; probably a rocking-stone. It stood upon three stones, so high that a man could crawl under. It was destroyed in 1819, to build houses. The farmer’s wife, it is said, took some antipathy to it, and would not give her husband rest until he consented to have it removed. A person of the name of Jamieson, and an assistant, were employed to blast it, which was accordingly done. When broken up, it filled twenty-four carts. Such was the feeling of sacrilege occasiioned by the removal of the stone, that it was observed the farmer’s wife became blind, and continued so for eight years, when she died. Jamieson, who blasted it, never did well afterwards. He drank and went to ruin.

Further warning not to Mess With Stones.

*Now called Lodgebush, according to the Canmore record.

Also, the source of this (’History of the County of Ayr’ by James Paterson, 1847) next says:During the era of smuggling, Craigie hills are known to have been the depository of a large share of the contraband goods landed at Troon and other parts of the coast. The broken nature of the crags afforded many secure places of secrecy. The old worthies who took part in this exciting trade have scarcely yet all died out.

On both sides of the Shannon in this neighbourhood Christian tradition is busy with almost every stone, boher, and tougher, and close to this boulder, on the old boher which led to the Seven Churches of Clonmacnoise before the present road was formed, is a carn called Leacht-na-Marra, or the Monument of the Dead, where, to the present day, when a funeral approaches that famed burial ground, the coffin is laid down, and stones thrown on the carn. The tradition is that in the old times some of the “holy men” from the Seven Churches always attended here, and carried the corpse to its last resting place, about two miles distant, the laity not being allowed to enter the sacred precincts. The carn-raising, however, is the remnant of a Pagan tradition.

But I was distinctly informed that no Christian rite was ever performed at the Clonfinlough stone: on the contrary, the name by which it is known – “The Fairy’s Stone” – points to a Pagan origin. Two remarkable earthworks, no mean feats in their way, consisting each of a deep fosse and rampart drawn across the esker, not very far from this stone, are termed “The Witch’s Hollows.”

Another legend terms it “The Horseman’s Stone,” and tells that a horseman gallops round it at certain times. Mr T L Cooke, of Parsonstown – who is intimately acquainted with all the antiquities of the locality, and [..] some time ago kindly communicated to me a drawing of this stone [..]

He goes on to describe the boulder and its neighbours and their cup-like hollows and the carvings, comparing them to a sun with planets and the constellation of the Plough. He also mentions crosses, daggers, the resemblence of a human foot and representations of Irish ring-brooches etc. From ‘On a Boulder with Presumed Pagan Carvings at Clonfinlough, King’s County’ by James Graves. In The Journal of the Kilkenny and South-East of Ireland Archaeological Society,
New Series, Vol. 5, No. 2 (1865), pp. 354-362.

A page at the Offaly Historical and Archaeological Society summarises some of the local 1930s Folklore Commission reports:

This survey gives us a glimpse of how the people of Offaly treasured their monuments and how they perceived them and what social role they played in the minds of the local people. According to the folklore survey, the Clonfinlough stone had images in the form of cross-men and loop-men carved onto the surface of the rock. This image puzzled many antiquarians for years until one Abbe Breuil deciphered the image and concluded that it represented a fight to a finish between the Old Irish and the Milesians in pre-Christian times, 1300BC. The cross-men were charging at the loop-men who in return were retreating from the attack.

He told the locals that there were many such stones in Spain. The story went on to say that they believed it was the oldest stone in Ireland and described it as “A stone that before Our Lord founded his apostolic church lay there enjoying the glorious sunshine in Summer and the rain leaving it as pure and white as the lily, in winter”. Meanwhile, another story from the Clonmacnoise area records that there were two big rocks in a field which a local boy named Michael was continually playing around in the summer time. One summer day he was out playing as usual and he did not come in until dark. When he came in he began to tell his mother about a strange little boy he was playing with at the rocks.

He showed his mother a beautiful silver knife which he said he got from the little boy. When the mother saw the knife she was afraid to let him keep the knife and she made him go back to the rocks with her in order to return it. Michael left the knife on the rock and the next morning when he went out to play again, the knife was gone and he never saw the little boy again. It is said that the strange little boy was a fairy and he was trying to coax young Michael away. It is also said that another Michael will find the knife, and when he does he will find two big pots of gold under the rocks.

offalyhistory.com/articles/61/1/A-History-of-Offaly-Through-its-Monuments/Page1.html

This page in ‘Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland’ by W G Wood-Martin (1902) seems to show the same cross and base as Tiompan’s picture from Boho churchyard (about 500yds from the rock carvings). The book says: Men are reported to resort to this stone in cases where they have no children after marriage.

“The Witches’ stone,” near Antrim Round Tower, from its name evidently originally a cursing site, is a rock bullan. The tower, according to current tradition, was erected by a “hag” who, when it was finished, as the readiest way of descending, took a flying leap and alighted on this stone, situated about 120 yards from the base of the structure. She stumbled – little wonder – on landing, and struck the rock with one elbow and one knee, which accounts for the cup-like depressions seen in the illustration. These, as is usual, are stated never to be without water. The largest cavity is 15 inches long, 12 inches wide and 9 inches deep; the smaller depression is 6 inches wide by 3 inches in depth. The rock itself is 6 feet long by about 4 1/2 feet broad. It lay originally by the side of a brook, but many years ago the stream was diverted, a wall was built between it and the stream, and the enclosed area converted into a garden.

From ‘Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland’ by W G Wood-Martin (1902).

Perhaps after the two inscribed bullans just noticed, the ten holed example of which I furnish a faithful drawing, is the most remarkable in Ireland. It stands on the shore of Upper Lough Macnean, and close to the ancient ruined parish church of Killinagh. The basins, which average about ten inches in diameter, are of various depths, and each is nearly filled with a somewhat circular or oval stone. There is a holy well close at hand, dedicated, like the church, to St. Brigid. The bullan is populary known as “St. Brigid’s stone,” or altar. A lady, who from infancy has resided in the immediate neighbourhood, was good enough to inform me that she had been told when a child by her old nurse, who was a native of the district, that many years before this curious monument was known amongst the people as the “cursing stone.“*

I heard the same story from a very old man who had lived all his life almost in sight of the time-stained gables of the neglected and mouldering cill. It was the custom, he said, when any of the neighbours bad a grudge against a real or supposed enemy, and wished him harm, to proceed to the “altar” and anathematize him, at the same time turning the stones deposited in the basins. This practise, however, was not carelessly or lightly to be indulged in, as the curses, when undeserved, were sure to descend in full force on the person or property of their utterer.

‘On the Bullàn, or Rock-Basin, as Found in Ireland; With Special Reference to Two Inscribed Examples’ by W. F. Wakeman, in Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy vol. 1 (1889-91).

* when a child she was not unfrequently brought to the spot by an aged nurse, who there performed devotions of some kind. – same author, ‘On Certain Markings on Rocks, Pillar-Stones, and Other Monuments, Observed Chiefly in the County Fermanagh’, from the Journal fo the Royal Historical and Archaeological Association of Ireland (Jul 1875).

HAILY.-- This place is supposed to have had its name from Helle, a pit or burial place; as here a vast tumulus had been erected over the bodies of the slain, as thought, at the Battle of Largs. It was only discovered, however, about 40 years ago, by Mr. Wilson, when searching for stones to enclose his lands. It was till then known by the name of Margaret’s-Law, and was supposed to be natural. It had long been overgrown with rank herbage and brushwood. In the centre of it were found five stone-coffins, or square apartments formed with flat stones set on edge; two of them containing five sculls each, with other human bones, and several earthen urns. The earth and small stones at the bottom were calcined. It is supposed that the sculls and other bones within these coffins were those of the chiefs; whilst the bodies of the common warriors had been thrown promiscuously over them, and then stones, in vast quantity, heaped over all. These amounted to upwards of 5,000 cart loads -- whilst the quantity of bones, which on exposure, soon crumbled into dust, was immense.

A Topographical description of Ayrshire, more particularly of Cunninghame, by George Robertson (1820).

... when the waste or common lands were enclosed by act of parliament about [thirty years ago], most of the stones of which this remarkable monumental curiosity was composed were blown into fragments by the power of gunpowder, and employed by the inhabitants in erecting rude stone fences [...]

The quality of these stones is a species of granite, reddish, and full of large white shining specks of spar-like appearance. When polished, some of them are veined, and have an ornamental appearance. There is no regularity in their shape, and few of them present sharp angles; indeed for the most part they seem from their rounded forms to have been long subjected to the action of water.

This species of stone is called by the country-people thunder-stone, but upon what authority seems a matter of much doubt. I have heard the inhabitants assign two reasons – one, that the stones have fallen from the clouds during thunder-storms; and the other, in consequence of their giving out sparks of fire when struck against each other, at the same time emitting a faint smell of sulphur. But in fact the great majority of the people would not be able to assign any reason for so singular a name, not trougling themselves to inquire into the origin of names.

From ‘The Druid Stones near Shap, in Westmoreland’ – from a Correspondent in vol 9 of The Penny Magazine of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge (1840).

Outside the burial ground is a perfect curiosity; – a natural rock of a tabular form with five basin-like hollows on the surface, of four or five inches in depth, and about a foot in diameter. These are severally filled with water, and in each is a stone of a long oval form fitting the space fully. The whole forms a petrified dairy – the basins being the “keelers,” the ovals the rolls of butter.

The history of this strange monument is, that, in ancient times, a woman lived here, who, not respecting the commandment against thieving, at night milked the cows of her neighbours, and transferred the milk as well as the butter to her own dairy. Suspected at length, the hue and cry was raised against her; and Saint Fiachna, who led a holy life at the church we have referred to, resolved to punish the culprit. He mounted his horse to visit her, but she flet. The Saint as he passed turned her dairy to stone, and then descended the hill towards the river in pursuit of her. In crossing the stream his horse left his hoof-marks on a stone in the centre of it; this we did not choose to wet ourselves to look at, but we were assured by several that it was there.

He then drove up the opposite hill-side, where, about midway, he overtook the criminal of whom he was in chase, and instantly turned her into stone; and there she still stands, the Irish “Lot’s Wife,” – not, however, a pillar of salt, but a goodly dallan of six feet in height; yet still holding a resemblance to the original lady. The tree beside it grew out of the “kippin” of the spancel which she carried in her hand, and with which she was accustomed to tie the cows’ legs at milking. And see what a goodly picture it now makes as a blooming hawthorn! It is a singular and striking object, standing, as it does, in the midst of a mountain of solitude.

From ‘A Week at Killarney’ by Mr and Mrs S C Hall (1850). The drawing in the book doesn’t have the pointy stone in its doughnutty stone and it’s not mentioned either.

The Irish Megaliths website
irishmegaliths.org.uk/kerry.htm
mentions how the ‘butterlumps’ are (were?) turned as part of Easter rituals at the nearby church.

Upon the West Side of this Isle, there is a Valley with a Declination towards the Sea, having a Rivulet running through the Middle of it, on each Side of which is an Ascent of half a Mile; all which Piece of Ground is call’d by the Inhabitants, the female Warrior’s Glen.

This Amazon is famous in their Traditions; her House or Dairy of Stone is yet extant, some of the Inhabitants dwell in it all Summer, though it be some hundred Years old; the whole is built of Stone, without any Wood, Lime, Earth or Mortar to cement it, and is built in the Form of a Circle, Pyramid-wise towards the Top, having a vent in it, the Fire being always in the Centre of the Floor; the Stones are long and thin, which supplies the Defect of Wood. The Body of this House contains not above nine Persons sitting; there are three Beds or low Vaults that go off the Side of the Wall, a Pillar betwixt each Bed, which contains five Men apiece;

at the Entry to one of these low Vaults is a Stone standing upon one End fix’d, upon this they say she ordinarily laid her Helmet; there are two Stones on the other Side, upon which she is reported to have laid her Sword: She is said to have been much addicted to Hunting, and that in her Time all the Space betwixt this Isle and that of Harries, was one continued Tract of dry Land.

There was some Years ago a Pair of large Deers-Horns found in the Top of Oterveaul Hill, almost a Foot under Ground; and there was likewise a wooden Dish full of Deer’s Grease found in the same Hill under Ground. ‘Tis also said of this Warrior, that she let loose her Grey-hounds after the Deer in St. Kilda, making their Course towards the opposite Isles.

There are several Traditions of this famous Amazon. But I shall trouble my reader with no more of them.

In this isle are plenty of excellent fountains or springs; that near the female warrior’s house is reputed the best: it is called Tou-bir-nim-beuy, importing no less than the well of qualities or virtues; it runs from east to west, being sixty paces ascent above the sea: I drank of it twice, an English quart each time; it was very clear, exceeding cold, light and diuretic; I was not able to hold my hand in it above a few minutes for its coldness; the inhabitants of Harries find it effectual against windy cholics, gravel, and head-aches; this well hath a cover of stone.

p13 of ‘A Voyage to St. Kilda’ by Martin Martin (1749). I wonder where he means by ‘Oterveaul Hill’. The RCAHMS record hints that this strange place could be iron age... or at least, its construction has much in common with ‘wheel houses’ of that period.
canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/3959/details/st+kilda+hirta+gleann+mor/

Many of the country do say, that in the larger round [of stones] the sun, and in the lesser the moon, was worshipped by the old pagan inhabitants of these isles.

From Brand’s ‘A Brief Description of Orkney, Zetland, Pightland-Firth and Caithness’ (from I think 1701 originally, but I found it in ‘A general collection of the best and most interesting voyages and travels in all parts of the world’, which was put together by John Pinkerton in 1809 – you can read it on Google Books.)

Elsewhere there are the following legends:

In the way between Tingwall and Scalloway, there is an high stone standing in form of an obelisk as some ancient monument, concerning which the people have various traditions, some saying that in the Strath of Tingwall, where this stone is erected, there was a bloody fight between the Danes and the old inhabitants or natives of this country, and that the Norwegian or Danish general was killed in this place, where the stone is set up.

Others report that one of the Earls of Orkney had a profligate and prodigal son, who for this cause being animadverted upon by his father, fled to Zetland, and there built a castle or a strong house for himself within a loch at Stroma, within two miles of Tingwall to the west, the ruins whereof are yet to be seen: his father not being satisfied with his escape, and the way he took for his defence, sent from Orkney four or five men to pursue him, to whom he gave orders that they should bring his son to him either dead or alive: the son thereupon not finding himself safe enough in his castle, made his escape from the castle, where the pursuers lay in ambush, but was overtaken by them in the Straith of Tingwall and killed there, whereupon this monument was erected. The pursuers took off his head, and carried it with them to his father, but in so doing they were so far from gratifying of him, that he caused them all to be put to death, notwithstanding of the orders given by him.

From Brand’s ‘A Brief Description of Orkney, Zetland, Pightland-Firth and Caithness’ (from I think 1701 originally, but I found it in ‘A general collection of the best and most interesting voyages and travels in all parts of the world’, which was put together by John Pinkerton in 1809 – you can read it on Google Books.)

The narrator has just visited the kirk of Tingwall when something catches his eye:

The novelty, however, engaged our attention most particularly, and we were at a loss to conjecture for what purpose it stood in its place. It was a large, erect, quadrangular stone, which, if cleared from a heap of rubbish that surrounded its base, might have measured in height six feet and upwards; but its irregularly fractured summit seemed to say, that formerly it had reared a prouder crest beside the waters of the Tingwell.

An oblique vein, of a different kind of stone, traversed its centre, and an old man, approaching from some cottages that were situated at the feet of the hills, informed us, with a look of doubt, that he had heard that a “sealgh” or sea-horse, having been fastened with a rope to the “Standing Stane,” the efforts of the animal to get loose had impressed that mark around it.

He likewise told us, that there had been a large flat stone lying near the upright pillar, which was said to have covered the bones of the “overseer” of Scalloway Castle, who was interred here; but he assured us, that after breaking the slab to pieces, to form the contiguous mull, he had sought in vain for remnants of mortality.

There was a look of peculiar originality in the face and person of our ancient informant, as well as a singular tone in his voice, and while he conversed with William, I included his portrait in a sketch I took of the Standing Stane, which being completed, we again set forward, with the unwelcome intelligence that the town we sought was “twa moils mair ahead.”

From ‘Tales of a voyager to the Arctic ocean’ by Robert Pierce Gillies (1826).

There is a photo on the RCAHMS site here – perhaps you can see the traces of the sea-horse’s struggle.

Near the boundary line, between this parish and Monmouthshire, is a small tumulus, like those over graves in country church-yards, with a stone at each end, without any inscription, called Bedd y gwr hir, the giant or tall man’s grave, but who the hero here interred was, or at what period his death happened is not known; the legends and tradition of the country inform us that a person of very extraordinary stature, above ten feet high, a chieftain of Blaenau Gwent, having been slain in the valley, was brought thus far by his friends, who were desirous of burying him honourably on his own demesne, but that a sudden fall of snow in the night, prevented their further progress, and compelled them to desposit the corpse here.

Part of the old road from Abergavenny to Llandilo Crescenny, about half a mile from the town, is called Cefn beddagor, corruptly from Cefn y bedd y gwr, or gwr hir, or the ridge of the giant’s grave, and from this corruption probably sprung the giant Agros, the supposed founder of a castle at Abergavenny, long prior to that of Drogo de Baladun; the tradition also in the neighbourhood of Llanelly may have formerly buried this same giant among their mountains, if so we must reverse the tale and suppose he was an inhabitant of the valley, and that he fell not far from this spot, in an attack upon the Gwentians: to hazard a conjecture as to his name or the time he lived would be idle, all we can fairly infer from the former being lost, is that he was of very remote antiquity.

From ‘A history of the county of Brecknock’ by Theophilus Jones (1809), who got unnecessarily tangled up in the second part of that quote.

At Slieve-na-Glaise, in Clare, is a dolmen, to which an old woman gave the name of Carrig-na-Glaise, that is, the Rock of the Sea-Green (Cow) – the word bo, “a cow,” being understood, as it is in the name of the ancient MS., Leabhar na h-Uidhri, that is “Book of the Dun (Cow).” After she had told me the story of how the poor enchanted cow, from whose udders used to flow all the rivers on the mountain-side, had been tricked by an impious old hag, who, in place of a milk-pail, had milked her into a sieve, and how, in consequence, she had either died of grief or deserted that locality for ever, I ventured to ask her the question whether there were any cows of that colour to be seen nowadays – whether, that is to say, she applied the term glas to the colour of any of the cows we saw on the mountain. She replied by a decided negative*, and added that the enchanted cow was the only one of that colour ever known, and that she travelled through Ireland from end to end in the space of a single day. The name of the Smith Gavida, the cow’s owner, in the tale, as still related in Donegal, was not remembered by my informant, although the name of one of the hills near by, on which were several dolmens, Glasgivneach, proved that it was once current there.

From ‘The dolmens of Ireland’ by William Copeland Borlase (1897).

*Of course not, you idiot.

This country is well sheltered on every side (except the northern) by high mountains; on the western by those of cantref Bachan; on the southern, by that range, of which the principal is Cadair Arthur, or the chair of Arthur, so called from two peaks rising up in the form of a chair, and which, from its lofty situation, is vulgarly ascribed to Arthur, the most distinguished king of the Britons. A spring of water rises on the summit of this mountain, deep, but of a square shape, like a well, and although no stream runs from it, trout are said to be sometimes found in it.

This mountain is now called, by way of eminence, the Van, or the height, but more commonly, by country people, Bannau Brycheinog, or the Brecknock heights, alluding to its two peaks. Our author, Giraldus, seems to have taken his account of the spring, on the summit of this mountain, from report, rather than from ocular testimony. I (Sir R. Colt Hoare) examined the summits of each peak very attentively, and could discern no spring whatever. The soil is peaty and very boggy. On the declivity of the southern side of the mountain, and at no considerable distance from the summit, is a spring of very fine water, which my guide assured me never failed. On the north-west side of the mountain is a round pool [.. from which] issues a small brook [..] I am rather inclined to think, that Giraldus confounded in his account the spring and the pool together.

From Sir Richard Colt Hoare’s translation of Giraldus Cambrensis’s Itinerary and Description of Wales, of the 12th century.

I don’t know what’s here but it sounds interesting.

Mr. James Murton forwarded the following notice of the “Buck Stone” at Silverdale, near Lancaster:

“I send a pencil sketch and also a photograph of a curious monument of a past age, which ihas not been noticed in any archaeological work that I am aware of, and may, perhaps, be considered worth mentioning in our Journal. It is known locally as the ‘Buck Stone’, and the Ordnance surveyors calle it ‘The Rocking Stone’ in their maps. It would probably be unsafe to attempt to make it oscillate; but it may be classed among those mysterious remains of antiquity termed ‘logan stones’ or ‘rocking stones’. It is situated in an open field, on a gentle slope which a few yards lower down becomes more steep. This ban appears to have been originally part of a scar or cliff, from which the rock has been worked away, leaving the ‘Buck Stone’ isolated in its present position. In a line with this slope, about twenty-five yards distant, the cliff remains, and is about on the same level as the top of the slope [..] The stone is about 10 ft. high, 33 ft. 6 ins. in girth horizontally, and probably weighs about thirty-five tons.

There are various rude legends connected with this stone, of which the following is one. About three hundred yards distant there is a small, deep lake or tarn called ‘Haweswater’; and the story goes, ‘that in times past an enormous eel or serpent was wont to come up from the lake, and coil itself round the ‘Buck Stone’, and that it devoured sheep from that field.’ The name ‘Buck Stone’ suggests that the knoll on which it stands was a resort of the red deer, which formerly were plentiful here, as is evidenced by frequent discoveries of the antlers of these animals in the sand of the estuary and in the peat mosses of the district.”

From the Journal of the British Archaeological Association for 1874.

Two little phrases about the hill:

When Simonside puts on his cap, rain is sure to follow.

and

Simonside may lee, but Cartington Hill never.

(I suppose the latter means Simonside is sometimes alright weatherwise, but Cartington Hill is always appalling?! A better interpretation might be required.)

– mentioned in ‘Upper Coquetdale, Northumberland: its history, traditions, folk-lore and scenery’ by D D Dixon (1903).

[From] the lucid notes of Capt. Hedley [...]

“A fine entrance to this camp may be seen at the S.E. corner, where a ledge of rock forms an excellent passage to the hill face overhanging Rothbury. This gateway may have had some connection with a rampart and ditch, which, first seen near the County Hotel, run up the hill face towards the camp, and join in a portion of their course a deep gully known as Anton’s Letch, which once used to harbour a ghost [..]”

“A large oblong rock, jutting out from the southern face of the hill on which the camp stands, is known as “Kate’s Kist.” It has a horizontal cleft near its top. Whether this curious name is a freak of modern local nomenclature, or whether it enjoyed a more extended use, going back to pre-Roman times, it is not for us to suggest [..]”

Below the camp also is Cartington Cove, a recess or cave which, local tradition says, is connected by a subterranean passage with Cartington Castle, three miles distant! The rock at Cartington Cove had at one time a series of incised concentric circles and central hollows, which were called in the locality “Cups and Saucers.”

Captain Hedley’s words were originally in Arch. Aeliana vol 13. Quote from ‘Upper Coquetdale, Northumberland: its history, traditions, folk-lore and scenery’, by D D Dixon, 1903.

A short distance below Windyhaugh the Coquet has cut for itself a pasage through the solid rock, forming a long deep pool, known as “The Wedder Loup,” famous for its big fish, but dangerously near the road that skirts its brink.

The tradition attached to this pool is, that during the later moss-trooping days, when that respectable border profession was on the wane, a “lifter” one night carried off a nice plump wedder from the flock grazing on the slopes of Shillhope Law. The daring sheep-stealer had not proceeded very far ere the loss was discovered. Immediately the owner and his men gave chase.

The “Hot Trod” proved short but decisive. Handicapped by the wedder tied round his neck, hill fashion, he was run to bay at this particular spot. To leap the chasm was his only chance of escape; therefore all was risked in one desperate bound. His feet touched the opposite bank; he clutched and struggled, but in vain – the wedder around his neck proved a very millstone to the fugitive, dragging him with his ill-gotten booty backwards into the murky depths of the pool below. Since then its name has been “The Wedder Loup.”

Nah not hugely megalithic, other than the sheep came from Shillhope Law. But the story is one attached to a number of ‘hangman’s stones’ across the country, where the struggling be-shouldered sheep (being balanced on a stone) pulls its thief to a similar doom. It’s called ‘Wedder Leap’ on the modern map.

From ‘Upper Coquetdale, Northumberland: its history, traditions, folk-lore and scenery’, by D D Dixon, 1903.

Some time in the early 1970s, Mr R’s mother and father to-be were driving past Cley Hill with two friends. It was night, and it had been snowing and the fields were covered. They saw lights silently firing out of the ground like a train with its lit-up windows running vertically into the sky. Obviously they thought it was totally strange but Mr R’s rational father tried to think of sensible explanations.. I can’t remember what those might have been, but they watched it for some time. The next day they went back but (And this is the clincher) there were no traces in the unbroken snow where they’d seen the lights. The silence is a weird thing too – and this was way before the lazer shows we might blame now.

Yes it’s easy to misunderstand lights in the sky round modern Warminster what with all the military goings-on in the vicinity. But the snow makes for an extra weird tale. I’d love to hear more of local people’s recent experiences here.

I can’t work out where this ‘cromlech’ can be, I’m wondering whether it is in fact this stone. If not, it must have been close by (but I can’t find one on an old OS map)?

Last summer I came across a native of the neighbourhood of Carnarvon, who told me of a cromlech which interested me[..] The cromlech is called Coetan Arthur, that is to say, Arthur’s Quoit, and it stands in the parish of Llanrug, on a hill-slope belonging to a farm called Y Fodlas (i.e., Hafod-las), and about four miles from Carnarvon.

The spot is commonly called Parc Smith, but the proper name of the mountain is Y Cefn Du. The Cefn Du is exposed, especially to winds from the north and the east [..] and it is on the north-eastern corner of it, on the left of Y Fodlas, that the cromlech is to be seen. There used to be two or three meini hirion near it, but my informant does not know whether they are still in situ.

Now, there was a saying which he heard scores of times from old people, that whoever slept under the cromlech through the night of St. John’s Festival (Nos dydd Gwyl Ifan) would rise in the morning either a giant in point of strength, or else as weak as a dwarf. Instances used to be adduced to prove it, such as old Ffowe of Ty Du, and Margret ‘ch Ifan of Cwmglas, who owed their remarkable strength to the origin here indicated. Others, who were supposed to show traces of the contrary effect of the pernoctation were the Siontwms of the Fuches Las and the Deios of Cwm Brwynog.

My informant does not tell me why the cromlech is called Coetan Arthur, though he intimates that there was a story current which explained it [..]

A letter by John Rhys in Archaeological Cambrensis, January 1888.

From ‘Exploration of a second mound near Stonyhurst’ by the Rev. J R Luck:

Many legends find currency among the country people concerning it. According to one, a powerful chieftain, robed and seated in a chair, was entombed within; another told of a casket of gold lying beneath; while a third relates that Oliver Cromwell, or at least some of his troopers were buried in it. However, the most generally received tradition is that the followers of Wada, slain in the battle between that rebellious chief and King Eardwulf, were buried here, while those slain of the king’s army were buried in the other mound. The victims of the routed army being more numerous than those of the victorious, of course accounts for the greater size of this mound.

Transactions of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society, v13 (1896).
The Rev dug into the mound and concluded it was a natural feature left behind by glaciers, but the modern SMR is more forgiving.

In the cliffs at the west end of Lleyn is a wishing-well called Ffynnon Fair, or St. Mary’s Well; where, to obtain your wish, you have to descend the steps to the well and walk up again to the top with your mouth full of the water. Viewing the position of the well from the sea, I should be disposed to think that the realisation of one’s wish at that price could not be regarded as altogether cheap.

This spring is in the cliff just beneath the stone, it would seem.
From an article on ‘Sacred Wells in Wales’ by John Rhys, in The transactions of the Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion for 1892/3.

At the highest point of this hill is a cairn, with traces of a kerb. It does look a little bit Odd, from this geograph photo by Ken Craig:
geograph.org.uk/photo/534761
Or is that just because of the hint of mist?

The gudeman of Siggie Taft had been at Ori with his oil teind and when returning home in the humin riding on a grey mare and leading a red staig he had to pass Stakkaberg, a feat which in those days required both nerve and hardihood. But Siggie Taft possessed both in a remarkable degree for it was said of him that he neither feared man nor deil in light or mirk.

As he rode slowly along he heard a voice saying “Du ‘at rides de grey and rins de red tell Tona Tivla ‘at Fona Fivla is faan i’ de Velyna Vatyna.” On coming to his house, as he passed the byre door, he called out the strange words he had heard and was surprised to see an “uncan” woman jump up from the side of his cow and in her hurry she left a pan of curious workmanship standing in the bizzi (stall in a byre). As the woman disappeared through the byre lum she explained “O care an’ dol, dat’s my bairn ‘ats faan i’ de kirnin watter.”

The milk pan thus secured was kept in the house of Taft for generations and always brought luck. But it had to be sained every night and left hanging in de ringalodi [crock and links for suspending a pot over the fire]. One night this duty was neglected and in the morning the pan had disappeared. After this the Trows seemed to have taken a spite at the people of Siggie Taft.

Noted down from the narration of William Laurenson, Aith, Fetlar, by E.S. Reid Tate.

From the Shetland Folk-book II, but I have copied it from Katherine Briggs’s ‘Dictionary of British Folk-Tales’.

A staig is a young horse. I know this because of the interesting book here
archive.org/details/glossaryofshetla00angu – a glossary of Shetland words from 1913. There are some really good ones.

Nether Swell. -- Within a stone’s throw from the north-west angle of the church, on the summit of the rising ground, in the allotments, stood, within the memory of the writer of this paper, a familiar, yet most venerable monolith. It was known as the Whistlestone (so called, perhaps, from this, the Wheat Hill, as the one beyond was the Oat Hill). This stone was the last, most probably, of a cist. Many stones were found at its base.

A witticism, amongst the villagers, was this:- “When the Whistlestone hears Stow clock (a mile off) strike twelve, it goes down to Lady-well (at the Hill’s foot) to drink.” Alas, poor Whistlestone!

Farmer Illes, one of the olden time, one day picked up two of a perfect set of teeth, in plowing by the stone, but so harried was he by the weirdy teeth, that he replaced them speedily where he found them.

But a later occupier did what the good folk of the village declared could not be done – for “All the King’s horses and all the King’s men” could not cast down nor carry away Whistlestone – but it was carried away – yet rescued from the roads or profane use. In the vicarage-paddock the pre-historic block now finds asylum.

From v7 of the Transactions of the Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Society (1882/3), in a piece by the Rev. David Royce about an excursion to Stow on the Wold.

The stones here are recorded on Coflein as a ‘stone setting’ and apparently align with a third on the skyline. There is a four stone row and a pair of stones nearby.

[Here are] two unhewn blocks of white quartz, almost certainly placed by artifice, with a small natural outcropping boulder midway between them, to which the local tradition points as marking the site where Owen Glyndwr “held parley, and made his covenant.” The boulders are on the north-western slope of Plynlumon, 100 yards above the right bank of the river Hyddgen [..] Each stone is 2 feet high, and shows no trace of tooling. They are 60 feet apart and are aligned exactly north and south. Though not placed in an elevated position, they can be seen from afar, and show up conspicuously in the sunlight.

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

Your post made me think, Carl. Maybe this stone is the one that features in the folklore about Wibdon Broad Stone about a stone throwing contest (which is where Ike’s thought should have led me before).

According to Coflein there are quite a few cairns on this hilltop. Perhaps you will be able to see which is most suitable for a king to sit on if you visit.

On an eminence bordering with Garvock, called Kinchet, or, more properly, King’s Seat hill, there is a large heap of stones, where, according to tradition, a king used in ancient times to sit in judgment.

Among other complaints here preferred to him, many were lodged against Melville of Allardice, at that time sheriff of the county, for his oppression. The royal judge, either wearied with the complainers, or enraged at the offender, exclaimed, “I wish that sheriff were sodden and supped in brose!” Such was the savage barbarity of the times, that the barons, who were little accustomed to the formalities of a trial, laid hold on these words, and put them literally in execution.

The place where the deed was perpetrated, a the bottom of the hills, on the side next Garvock, is not unlike the cavity of a kiln for drying corn, and still retains the name of the Sheriff’s kettle.

In the Statistical Accounts of Scotland 1791-99 for the parish of Benholme.

On the summit of the nearest hill to the sea, except one, bordering with the parish of Cyrus, and commanding an extensive prospect, stands a rough stone, in the circumference of a stony circle, commonly called the Cloach stone. It is more than a foot thick, measure 8 feet along the ground, and rises nearly 6 above its surface, in an inclined direction towards the north.

As there is no place in the neighbourhood, except one at the South corner of the parish, close by the shore, where stones of the same quality are found, it appears to have been brought from thence, not without considerable difficulty, the intervening space being a pretty steep ascent of more than a mile. It would seem therefore to have been erected for some useful purpose, perhaps with a view to perpetuate some memorable event.

Tradition says, a battle was fought near this place, and the number of flint heads of arrows, found on the side of the hill where it stands, affords some reason to credit this report. Between this and the coast, a great quantity of human bones has been dug up, in the course of improving the land, for nearly the space of a mile along the rising ground above Johnshaven. The bottom and sides of the graves, containing these bones, were all lined with rough stones.

The writer then admits that although lots of bodies could result from a battle, no-one would probably dig them all careful graves. From volume 15 of the Statistical Account of Scotland (1793).

The Canmore record has this as a recumbent stone circle (and that sounds like an impressive recumbent stone, and it’s flanked by upright pillar stones) but also seems to waver also with categorising it as a special sort of cairn: “one of a group in the area which have well-built kerbs and an associated large stone.”

This fort is well protected by sheer cliffs here on Ashie Moor.

In the parish of Dores, and about three miles from Loch ness, are vestiges of a fort called Castel-Dunreachan, or Castal-Dun-richuan, i.e. Castle of the King of the Ocean*, a name perhaps imposed when the king of Norway was master of the sea. To the eastward of that fort, are several cairns, one of which, called Ashi’s hill, is fabled to be the spot where Fingal killed Ashi, son of the Norwegian monarch.

*Yes this all sounds highly unlikely. But names need explanations. From ‘The Topographical, Statistical, and Historical Gazetteer of Scotland’ (1819)

You can see a photo of the fort on Geograph.

Canmore mentions the remains of a cairn here, 35m east of the summit. This hill is also where one of those excellent carved stone balls was found, carved with a spiral and chevron patterns.

It was first designed to build the church [for Fordoun] on the top of the Knock-hill, about a mile or more north-east of the village – a most inconvenient, and the reverse of a central situation; and there the work was actually commenced. As usual, whatever was erected during the day by the masons was destroyed at night by some supernatural beings, who took this method of testifying their aversion to the undertaking. After some time, when both builders and destroyers had perhaps become weary of their respective labours, a supernatural voice was heard to cry,-

Gang farther doun
To Fordoun’s toun.

The hint was taken; and in order to determine the proper site of the church, a mason was desired to throw his hammer at random. The hammer judiciously alighted on the beautiful mound where Paldy’s chapel was already pitched, and there the work was carried into effect without farther interruption.

It would be a very odd place for a church for Fordoun. From ‘The Topographical, Statistical, and Historical Gazetteer of Scotland’ (1845).

On the steep side of Great Finn, an insulated rock that is split and rent into parts rises like the ruins of a castle from out the thick underwood with which the hill is covered: this shapeless mass is called Hob’s House, and tradition states, that it was inhabited by a being of a gigantic stature, who was possessed of great and mysterious powers, and who was known by the name of Hob. This extraordinary personage never appeared by day; but when the inhabitants were asleep in their beds, he traversed the vales, entered their houses, thrashed their corn, and in one single night did the work of ten day-labourers, unseen and unheard, for which service he was recompensed with a bowl of cream, that was duly placed upon the hearth, to be quaffed on the completion of the task he had voluntarily imposed upon himself. This is a tradition by no means confined to the neighbourhood of Monsal-Dale; a similar one prevails in many parts of the kingdom, and particularly in the northern districts...

From ‘Peak Scenery, or the Derbyshire Tourist’ by Eberneezer Rhodes (1824).

In speaking of the rebel laird of Blelack, it may be added that the fairies abode in the Seely Howe, a hollow in the Carne Hillock, upon that property; and, before leaving for the wars of the ‘45, the laird, determined to dislodge them from his lands, employed for that purpose a reputed magician, named John Farquharson, tacksman in Parks. The fairies, however, refused to obey his spell until he should assign them some other place of abode, which he did by sending them to the Hill of Fare, near Banchory! But, disliking their new quarters very much, the superstitious aver that the fairies pronounced this imprecation upon Gordon:--

“Dool, dool to Blelack,
And dool to Blelack’s heir,
For drivin’ us from the Seely Howe
To the cauld hill o’ Fare!”

The malediction of the fairies against Farquharson was still more eldritch:--

“While corn and girs grows to the air,
John Farquharson and his seed shall thrive nae mair!”

It is added that Farquharson, whose circumstances went to the bad from the day he dislodged the fairies, left his native country and was never again heard of. Matters also went ill with the Gordons. The rebel laird died without lawful issue, when the estate passed to Charles Rose, a sister’s son...

From ‘Epitaphs and inscriptions from burial grounds and old buildings in the north-east of Scotland’ by Andrew Jervise (1875).

I would imagine the cavern mentioned could be Kinder Low cavern, very near to this cairn.

At a meeting of the Society of Manchester Scientific Students, Sept. 27, 1882, the members visited Hayfield. On leaving Hayfield railway station the party proceeded to the edge of Leygate Moor. From thence they reached the Old Oak wood near the lower house. A short walk from here is the Downfall. Near here is the Mermaid’s Pool, of which the natives have a tradition that a beautiful woman lives in the side of the Scout; that she comes to bathe every day in the Mermaid’s Well, and that the man who has the good luck to behold her bathing will become immortal and never die. The old people of Hayfield, moreover, tell a long story of a man who, sometime in the last century, went from Hayfield over the Scout, and was lucky enough to meet this mountain nymph, by whom he was conducted to a cavern hard by. Tradition adds that she was pleased with this humble mortal, and that he lingered there some time, when she conferred on him the precious gift of immortality.

From the Notes and Queries section of v1/n1 of the Folk-Lore Journal (1883).