Rhiannon

Mr. D. Byrne sent a plan and description of an exceedingly curious Cromleac, situate on the top of Coolrus hill, in the parish of Ballyadams, Queen’s County [...] At about one hundred and twenty feet radius from the Cromleac, formerly stood a circle of large upright flag-stones, now removed. [..]

The name by which this remain of antiquity is known at present amongst the peasantry is the ”Ass’s Manger“, evidently a modern appellation. -- There is a strange and highly interesting belief regarding this remain of antiquity amongst the people. They assert that, frequently, even on an afternoon while it is light, funerals are seen passing the Cromleac; the procession appears for the first time a few perches below the monument, as far as the spot where the cists, already alluded to, have been found, it invariably disappears. Mr Byrne stated that he had made much inquiry about this strange matter, and had been at all times assured by the peasantry of its perfect truth!

From p132 of v1 (1849) of the Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland.
You can read it here at Google Books.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=zHk9AAAAIAAJ&pg=PA132

A confusing tangled tale revolves around a bell here. Offa was supposed to have lived in Sutton Walls, or alternatively down in Marden below. As mentioned, there is a church on the spot where Offa murdered St. Ethelbert, and a few yards away, a pond. When the pond was being cleaned out, a bell was found, eighteen feet below the level of the adjacent ground.

The Dean of Hereford said (in the 1840s) that the bell “was formed of a sheet of mixed metal, which had been hammered into shape: it is four-sided.. riveted together on each side..” The Herefordshire SMR says it was of iron and bronze, and calls it ‘Celtic’, but it is surely newer – and where is it now?

He also said, “There is a tradition at Marden among the common people that there lies in the river Lugg, near the church, a large silver bell, which will never be taken out until two white oxen are attached to it, to draw it from the river.”
and elsewhere (eg at the Hereford Times ) there’s talk of a mermaid – the oxen had a go pulling the bell out, but the mermaid dragged it back.

It seems like one of those chicken-and-egg situations (like with the Mold cape) where you can’t tell how much story there really was before the discovery.

See the Archaeological Journal for 1848 (v5) p330
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=XZ08AAAAIAAJ&pg=RA1-PA330

A bit more from John Ryan:

CLOCH-A’-PHOILL, (literally the hole stone, in Irish.)
-- Two miles south of Tullow, in the parish of Aghade, is a huge piece of granite of singular appearance. It is about twelve feet in height and four in breadth, having an aperture through near the top.

There is a tradition, that a son of one of the Irish kings was chained to this stone; but that he contrived to break his chain and excape. There are marks left, caused by the friction of the iron on the stone. We would at once conclude that it was a bull, or some other animal that was chained here, and not a human being; were not the tradition confirmed by written history, the verity of which we are not disposed to controvert.*

The stone is now thrown from its perpendicular, and it was a practice with the peasantry to pass ill-thriven infants through the aperture in order to improve their constitution. Great numbers formerly indulged in this superstitious folly, but for the last twenty years the practice has been discontinued. My informant on this occasion was a woman who had herself passed one of her infants through the aperture of this singular stone. She informed me, that some of the country people talked of having it cut up for gate posts, but a superstitious feeling prevented them. Every antiquary would regret the demolition of the cloch-a-phoill.

Elsewhere in the book (p19) he describes the story. I will try to summarise it because it’s pretty wordy. He doesn’t seem to notice the irony when he says “We shall relate it with as much brevity as may be consistent with a due regard to perspicuity.” But to be fair it is complicated.

Niall was the rightful king. But Eochaidh sets himself up at Tara as the king instead. ‘A druid of eminence’ tells him off and he scarpers. Soon after Eochaidh kills yet another druid for some ill-timed comments(I think). Niall promises the family that there’ll be revenge. But he ends up trashing Leinster in his pursuit of Eochaidh. The people of Leinster end up handing him over to prevent any more trouble. The druid chains him to the stone, and then gets nine soldiers to attack him. But Eochaidh manages to make a superhuman effort and forces one of the chain’s rivets. He grabs some weapons, hacks down the soldiers and dashes off to Scotland..

p338 in ‘The History and Antiquities of the County of Carlow ’ by John Ryan, 1833. Digitised on Google Books.

There is a tradition respecting the large top of a cromlech, in Cornwall, that was removed to a brook at a distance, and converted into a bridge; it is said that this stone possessed the power of speech, and answered questions put to it, until on a certain time, it cracked in an effort to speak, and has been silent ever since. This vague tradition must have originated in the oracular use made of the cromlech from whence the stone was taken.

Vague indeed. Unless someone can enlighten us..

From p279 of The Graphic and Historical Illustrator
Edward Wedlake Brayley (1834) – which can be perused on Google Books.

At the distance of about five hundred yards south-eastward of Kit’s Cotty House, has been another Cromlech, consisting of eight or ten stones, now lying in a confused heap, it having been thrown down about the beginning of the last century, by order of the then propietor of the land, who is said to have intended sending the stones “to pave the garrison at Sheerness,” after they had been broken to pieces.* This design was prevented by the extreme hardness of the stones..

*Thorpe’s account of Aylesford, in the “Custumale Roffense,” p 64-75.

p278 in The Graphic and Historical Illustrator
Edward Wedlake Brayley (1834) – which can be perused on Google Books.

Not far distant from Cloyne is Castle Mary, a seat belonging to the Longfield family : it was formerly called Carrig Cotta, which is supposed to be a corruption of Carrig Croith, or the Rock of the Sun,-- a name derived from a cromlech, or Druidical altar, still to be seen not far from the house.

This remain of paganism consists of a rough and massive stone, twelve feet in length; one end elevated about six feet from the ground by two smaller stones, from which its name of Cromlech, signifying a bending or inclined stone, is derived.

Close by it is a smaller stone or altar, supported in a similar diagonal position by a single stone. There is a tradition, that nothing will grow under either of these altars, an opinion that originates from the total absence of verdure, incident to a want of sufficient light and air*.

The top of the larger altar was richly covered with [Wood Geranium], the light feathery leaves and delicate pink blossoms of which formed a pleasing contrast to the solemnity and breadth of the altar.

*oh don’t be so boring. This from the chapter on Cloyne in Thomas Crofton Croker’s ‘Researches in the South of Ireland’ (1828).

It looked like a dog. I didn’t actually see anything, mind.

[Palm Sunday] gatherings at Deverill took place on Cowdown, i.e., the ridge, parallel with the road from Sutton; boys, as well as men, went up to “beat the ball”, i.e. play trap.
“When was the last time?”
“Oh! when I were a bit of a buoy, they gied over then, ‘cos of ‘en seed the devil; I were up there, but I didn’t see en’, but a were there like a girt dog, and a did rin about, and the chaps rinned away; I seed em rin, and I rinned too; ‘twere gied over ater that.”

From a piece by John U Powell in Wiltshire Notes and Queries, June 1898, p486.
wiltshire.gov.uk/community/gettextimage.php?book_no=002&chapter_no=11&page_no=0043&dir=next

In France, as in England, and indeed most countries [Stones] are usually connected in the popular belief with fairies or with demons – and in England, with Robin Hood. In France this latter personage is replaced by Gargantua, a name made generally celebrated by the extraordinary romance of Rabelais. A cromlech near the village of Toury, in Britany, is called Gargantua’s stone; a not uncommon name for the single stone or menhir is palet de Gargantua (Gargantua’s quoit).

A very common name for cromlechs among the peasantry of France is fairies’ tables, or devils’ tables, and in one or two instances they have obtained the name of Caesar’s table; the covered alleys, or more complicated cromlechs, are similarly named fairies; grottos, or fairy rocks. The single stones are sometimes called fairies’ or devils’ seats.

The prohibition to worship stones occurring so frequently in the earlier Christian ecclesiastical laws and ordinances, relates no doubt to these druidical monuments, and was often the cause of their destruction. Traces of this worship still remain.

In some instances people passed through the druidical monuments for trial, or for purification, or as a mode of defensive charm. It is still a practice among the peasantry at Columbiers, in France, for young girls who want husbands, to climb upon the cromlech called the Pierre-levee, place there a piece of money, and then jump down. At Guerande, with the same object, they despose in the crevices of a Celtic monument bits of rose-coloured wool tied with tinsel. The women of Croisic dance round a menhir. It is the popular belief in Anjou that the fairies, as they decended the mountains spinning by the way, brought down the druidical stones in their aprons, and placed them as they are now found.

From Thomas Wright’s ‘The Celt, the Roman, and the Saxon’, parts of which are reprinted in a review in The Gentleman’s Magazine v.193 1852 Jul-Dec (p233).

Dol is situated in the north of the departement of Ille-et-Vilaine, not far from the sea-coast. Near it, in a field called the Champ Dolent (’Field of Woe’), stands a gigantic menhir, about thirty feet high and said to measure fifteen more underground.

It is composed of grey granite, and is surmounted by a cross . The early Christian missionaries, finding it impossible to wean the people from frequenting pagan neighbourhoods, surmounted the standing stones with the symbol of their faith, and this in time brought about the result desired.

A strange legend is connected with this menhir. On a day in the dark, uncharted past of Brittany a fierce battle was fought in the Champ Dolent. Blood ran in streams, sufficient, says the tale, to turn a millwheel in the neighbourhood of the battle-field. When the combat was at its height two brothers met and grappled in fratricidal strife. But ere they could harm one another the great granite shaft which now looms above the field rose up between them and separated them.

Legends and Romances of Brittany, by Lewis Spence (1917) p24.

Perhaps someone knows the stone to which this daft story refers.

On the Causse above Terrasson, in Dordogne, is a dolmen with a cuplike hollow in the capstone. A friend of mine living near learned that the peasants were wont to place either money or meal or grapes in it. So one night he concealed himself within the cist. Presently a peasantess came and deposited a sou in the cavity, when my friend roared out in patois: “Ce n’est pas assez. Donnez moi encore!” whereupon the woman emptied her purse into the receptacle and fled.

Well I hope he was proud of himself. From p64 of Sabine Baring-Gould’s 1911 ‘Book of Folklore’.

In Brittany are monoliths about which women dance in a state of nudity, and rub themselves against them in hopes of thereby becoming mothers.

Near Dinan is the stone of St Samson. Girls slide down it, as it is on an incline, and if they can reach the bottom without a hitch, they believe that they will be happy mothers when married.

Some of these stones are pitted with artificially cut hollows. The stones are washed, to produce rain, are anointed, and the cup-marks filled with butter and honey. Most in France are now surmounted with crucifixes, or have a niche cut in their faces into which an image of the Virgin is inserted.

From p37 of Sabine Baring-Gould’s ‘Book of Folklore’ (1911).

Also see
themodernantiquarian.com/post/67112/folklore/illeetvilaine_35.html

Thanks Moth for matching this to its geographical location!

Some small stones have been found [in the parish of Wick], which seem to be a species of flint, about an inch long and half an inch broad, of a triangular shape, and barbed on each side. The common people confidently assert, that they are fairies arrows, which they shoot at cattle, when they instantly fall down dead, though the hide of the animal remains quite entire. Some of those arrows have been found buried a foot under ground, and are supposed to have been in antient times fixed in shafts, and shot from bows. Some stones also of a flinty nature have been found, which when broken contained the shape of serpents coiled round in the heart of the stone.

From the Statistical Account of 1791-99 vol.10 p.15 : Wick, County of Caithness.

The “Paddock Stane,” a large rude block, stands in the same locality [as a stone circle], and in its vicinity stone coffins, containing rude clay urns and human bones, are frequently found. Tradition points to this stone as that which the devil threw across the Tay from one of the Fifeshire hills, when he saw St Boniface building his church at the estuary of the burn of Gowry; but, mistaking his distance, the stone fell nearly a mile farther north, and rested on the spot where it now lies!

From ‘Notice of the Localities of Certain Sculptured Stones.. pt III’ by A Jervise. From PSAS, on line at ADS:
ads.ahds.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/PSAS_2002/pdf/vol_002/2_442_452.pdf

The story seems to link in with two stones near the church itself, but they’re on the beach apparently:

When the Yowes O’ Gowrie come to land,
The Day o’ Judgment’s near at hand.

A prophecy prevalent in the Carse of Gowrie and in Angus-shire. The Ewes of Gowrie are two large blocks of stone, situated within high-water mark, on the northern shore of the Firth of Tay, at the small village of Invergowrie. The prophecy is ancient, perhaps by Thomas the Rhymer, and obtains universal credit among the country people. In consequence of the natural retreat of the waters from that shore of the firth, the stones are gradually approaching the land, and there is no doubt will ultimately be beyond flood-mark.
It is the popular belief, that they move an inch nearer to the shore every year. The expected fulfilment of the prophecy has deprived many an old woman of her sleep; and it is a common practice among the weavers and bonnet-makers of Dundee, to walk out to Invergowrie on Sunday afternoons, simply to see what progress “the yowes” are making!

From ‘The Popular Rhymes of Scotland’ by Robert Chambers (1826) p 97, which you can read on Google Books.

The PSAS article mentions the Goors o’ Gowrie too, but doesn’t mention any devilish connections – though some internet pages seem to consider them additional diabolical missiles aimed at the church. The PSAS article says “There is nothing in their appearance to attract notice, and it may now be said that they have all but ‘come to land’ since they are separated from the common course of the Tay by the embankments of the Dundee and Perth Railway.” Oh well.

Another thing that links them is that they’re made of the same stone (allegedly):

On the road to Liff, about a mile from the Tay, stands a very large boulder of gneiss, perfectly isolated, vulgarly termed the “Paddock Stane;” and two more of the same sort are to be seen at the extremity of Invergowrie Bay, within a short distance of the land.

From the New Statistical Account, v11 (1845) p575.

I have been informed by a priest, but I know not how far it may be correct, that Carnac signifies literally, in the Breton language, a field of flesh. If this be the meaning of the word, it would lead one to conjecture that these stories were placed in memory of some great battle, or as memorials in a common cemetery of the dead.

The people here have a singular custom, whenever any of their cattle are diseased, of coming among these stones to pray to St. Cornelius for their recovery. Such a practice may be a remnant of pagan superstition continued in Christian times; but I must remark that St. Cornelius is the patron saint of the neighbouring church.

I cannot learn that the peasantry of this country have any traditions about Carnac; and I must here observe than no relations or accounts given either by the poor or more enlightened people of Brittany can be depended upon.

.. Tradition has given to the site of these stones the name of Caesar’s Camp, but tradition in such a question is an insufficient guide. M. Cambry, led by another tradition, reported to him by an old sailor, that a stone was added every year, conjectures, though with hesitation, that the monument has some connexion with the astronomy of a remote age.

From ‘The Penny Cyclopaedia’ v6 by George Long (1836).
Digitized at Google Books, here:
books.google.co.uk/books?id=ztqyJi7Ec9UC&pg=PA304

Stories abound of local people seeing spectral figures and moving lights around the stones at night, as well as hearing phantom singing. As a result, the stones are still treated with a healthy respect. And there is a belief that buildings which have been constructed from former standing stones are subject to a poltergeist-like manifestation known as “The Haunt”.

Stories abound eh – well I’ve not been able to find many about Avebury, so either this is an advertising ploy or some people better get typing.
From ‘Ghosts’ by Sian Evans (a book about National Trust properties), published 2006.

Maybe the 70s tv series ‘Children of the Stones’ is considerably more frightening than reality? I can recommend renting it – megalithic anoraky, 70s fashion and excruciating singing. There is a short clip on You Tube here:
uk.youtube.com/watch?v=e8tui_jUfWw

In the south-east part of the parish is a conical hill, called a law, on which, according to tradition, trials were held of old, and doom pronounced, and at times, perhaps, summarily executed. This little hill, of which the top is now covered with fir trees and furze, has given the name of Lawesk (now Louesk) to the adjoining farms, extending to several hundred acres.

p424 in the New Statistical Account of Scotland v12 (1845).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=MaMCAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA424

About the middle of Gigha is Dun Chifie, or Keefie’s Hill, which appears to have been a strong fortification. Keefie was the son of the King of Lochlin, and occupied this stronghold, where (according to tradition), he was slain by Diarmid, one of Fingal’s heroes, with whose wife he had run away.

p291 in ‘Glencreggan: Or, A Highland Home in Cantire’ by Cuthbert Bede (1861)
books.google.co.uk/books?id=TrQuAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA291

Lwyd, in the additions to ‘Camden’s Britannia’, informs us that in the year 1687 he had copied an inscription from a stone, called Bedh Porws, or Porus’s grave, near Lhech Idris.. the field is still called maes y bedd, or the field of the grave.

It is now chiefly covered with potatoes; and I cannot but think that the poor farmer, who cannot speak a word of English, hath merit with the antiquarian world, as the stone is placed very inconveniently in the centre of his present crop, nor would it be difficult at all to remove it.

Lwyd very truly states that Porius’s monument is to be found near Lhech Idrys. This name signifies Idrys’s stone, which is to be seen about a quarter of a mile to the south of Maes y bedd. It is a single upright stone of about five feet high, situated not far westward from a brook which runs through a valley opening many miles to the southward. At the end of this valley may be seen Cader Idrys in a clear day, which is the highest mountain of Merionethshire, and is supposed to signify Idrys’s chair.

Idrys was a giant formerly in this part of Wales, and the tradition is, that he kicked a stone from the top of Cader Idrys which fell where Lhech Idrys, or Idrys’s stone, is now to be found. Many such kicks by a giant would solve most of the difficulties with regard to Stonehenge.

I am, &c.
Daines Barrington.

A letter from 1770 to Mr Gough, collected in
‘Illustrations of the Literary History of the Eighteenth Century’ by J Nichols.
books.google.co.uk/books?id=TEcJAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA588

(As usual when it comes to Ireland I am being a bit pathetic with pinning the stories to locations. But I hope the locations still exist).

.. Avowedly malignant ceremonies have been performed at two, if not three, places in East Clare. At Carnelly, near Clare Castle, at an unknown period remote even in 1840, “a black cock, without a white feather,” was offered to the Devil on the so-called “Druid’s Altar,” two fallen pillars near an earthen ring beside the avenue, --to avenge the sacrificer on an enemy, but in this case it brought an equivalent misfortune on the sacrificer himself.

The Duchess de Rovigo, an heiress of the last Stamer of Carnelly, used the story, combined with irrelevant family legends and pseudo-archaeology, in a poem dated 1839, but I obtained it, as given above, from a more reliable source, her mother, in 1875 and 1882, as well as from my brothers and sisters, who heard it in “the forties”.

When I was at the dolmen near the house at Maryfort in 1869, an old servant, Mrs. Eliza Ega (nee Armstrong), said to me, -- “Don’t play at that bad place where the dhrudes (druids), glory be to God! offered black cocks to the Devil!”

A Folklore Survey of County Clare (Continued)
Thos. J. Westropp
Folklore, Vol. 22, No. 1. (Mar. 31, 1911), pp. 49-60.

Hunt quotes O Halliwell’s ‘Rambles in Western Cornwall, by the Footsteps of the Giants’ – the giants were always entertaining themselves with ‘bob buttons’ and other ball games using rocks.

“Doubtlessly the Giant’s Chair on Trink Hill was frequently used during the progress of the game, nor is it improbable that the Giant’s Well was also in requisition. Here, then, were at hand opportunities for rest and refreshment--the circumstances of the various traditions agreeing well with, and, in fact, demonstrating the truth of each other.”

- at the Sacred Texts Archive
sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/prwe/prwe009.htm

Antequera or the ancient Antecaria, situated between the heights of the same name and the Guadiaro, contains a greater number of inhabitants than the last town. The Lovers’ Mountain (Pena de los Enamorados) rises in the vicinity; it has been celebrated by an act of heroism not unexampled in the history of Spain during the middle ages, or even in modern times.

A Christian knight had been taken prisoner by a Moorish prince; during his captivity he fell in love with the daughter of the infidel; resolved to celebrate their union in a Christian country, and at the foot of the altar, they had proceeded to the frontiers, when they were overtaken by the prince and his troops; they sought a hiding place int he caves of the mountain, but the enraged father ordered soldiers to seize the fugitives. His daughter remonstrated that she was a Christian, that she had married, and threatened to destroy herself if he approached; but the father was inexorable, adn the two lovers rushed headlong from the summit of a precipice. A cross indicates the place, and serves still to commemorate the event.

(this is in ‘Universal Geography’ by Conrad Malte-Brun (1831) – p115. It’s on Google Books. I’m sure there are other and better descriptions of the legend elsewhere. I think there is a Spanish folksong based on it, and Robert Southey (one time Poet Laureate) also wrote a poem based on it. In fact, if you read Spanish, you can read a Spanish description and the poem here:
google.co.uk/books?id=YSohAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA440

The ditches on Grindstone Law ‘are’ the entrenchments made and used during a battle on Duns Moor – an area on its southwest side. Naturally one of the combatants was called General Dun, “who gained a victory there against great odds”.

On the north east side of Grindstone Law (as far as I can make out),
“there formerly existed an upshot spring of considerable volume, called Hell’s-cothern (caldron). It was supposed to be unfathomable, and the boiling-like motion of its water was attributed to its connections with subterraneous fire.

“In association with this spot, the following story is extant: --Once upon a time, a team of oxen, yoked to a wain, were engaged on the top of the hill [the Law], when, from some unexplained cause, the beasts became unmanageable, and furiously dashed down the bank towards the Cothern. On passing over the brow of a declivity midway between the top and the bottom some accident brought the stang (pole) into violent collision with the ground, producing a deep laceration, from the bottom of which a well that yet remains first sprang up. Unarrested by this obstacle, onwards the oxen swept down the bank (the abrasion occasioned by their wild descent being still traceable in the course of the well strand) towards the infernal Cothern, in which oxen, wain, and driver sank for ever, the horns of the oxen alone excepted, which were shortly after cast out by the unusual surging of the fountain.

Such is the legend. About fifty years since the two landlords of the estates divided by the burn deepened its channel [..] the water which was wont to boil to its surface found a subterranean outlet to Denises-burn [..] Some there are who have seen the Cothern in its pristine state, and remember the awe which the story imparted to a sight of it..”

I do like this story, even if the language is ridiculously flowery. Bottomless springs, connections with the underworld, bulls..

I found in Mr William Coulson’s article in ‘Archaeologia Aeliana’ p106 (1861 -v5)
archive.org/stream/archaeologiaael01unkngoog#page/n116
- it’s well worth a read. At one point he squeezes into the cist inside the barrow on Grindstone Law (p 107) and fishes out some bones. It’s slightly mad.

The ‘Devil’s Causeway’ – a roman road – is another unearthly feature on this side of the hill.

I don’t know where this can refer to. Perhaps someone reading will know. The folklore is just what you’d expect for a prehistoric site.

Gentlemen – Some few years ago I was travelling on a coach between Chepstow and Abergavenny, when my attention was drawn to some large stones lying prostrate on the right hand side of the road, but on which side of the town of Usk I cannot now remember.

.. I found that in the eyes of the coachman, and also of the whole neighbourhood, they were considered rather as a lion, not on account of being Celtic remains, but because it had required the united force of the farm-horses of the neighbourhood to pull them down, and that they could not even then remove the disunited masses from the spot.

Thanks, Mr Richard GP Minty for your vagueness. Perhaps the stones have gone now anyway? But you never know, especially if they were that stubborn.

from ‘Archaeologia Cambrensis’ v II (1847), p 275.

The OS map shows a road called ‘Rhydyn Hill’ skirting Caer Estyn, so I can only assume that the springs are very close by, perhaps coming out from beneath the hillfort and down to the river below.

On Rhyddyn demesne, belonging to Sir Stephen Glynne, adjoining to the Alyn, are two springs, strongly impregnated with salt; which, in dry weather, used to be the great resort of pigeons to pick up the hardened particles. These were formerly used as remedy in scorbutic cases. The patients drank a quart or two in a day; and some boiled the water till half was wasted, before they took it. The effect was, purging, griping, and sickness at the stomach, which went off in a few days, and then produced a good appetite. Dr. Short gives an instance of a woman in a deplorable situation from a scurvy, who was perfectly restored by the use of these springs.

Tours in Wales, by Thomas Pennant (1810, v2 – p54): digitised at Google Books.

A very slightly different version is given by Archibald Geikie in his ‘The story of a boulder: or, gleanings from the note-book of a field geologist’ (1858 p149):

The top of Beinn na Cailleaich is flat and smooth, surmounted in the centre by a cairn. Tradition tells that beneath these stones there rest the bones of the nurse of a Norwegian princess. She had accompanied her mistress to “the misty hills of Skye,” and eventually died there. But the love of home continued strong with her to the end, for it was her last request that she might be buried on the top of Beinn na Cailleaich, that the clear northern breezes, coming fresh from the land of her childhood, might blow over her grave.

And in ‘the Gentleman’s Magazine’ for the first half of 1841, King Haco of Norway’s wife, or his nurse, is named specifically. As the article says, “this is a point, however, which, I suspect, we must leave the old ladies to settle between them.” I guess suffice to say that the hill hides an auld wife, and an important one – or at least one with Connexions.

The word is not pronounced the same as gipsy, a fortuneteller; the g, in this case, being sounded hard, as in gimblet.

The Gypseys are streams of water which burst through the unbroken ground in various parts of the Wolds, during the latter part of winter and the early part of spring, and at other periods after heavy rains, sometimes so copious as to fill a drain called the Gypsey-race, 12 feet wide, and 3 feet deep. The Gypseys sometimes flow during two or three months and then totally cease, leaving scarcely a mark to distinguish the place from which the water issued.

Hone, in his Table Book, tells us that the young people of North Burton had a custom in former times (in accordance, probably, with some traditionary custom of the Druids) of “going out to meet the Gypsey,” on her rise from the Wolds.

p492 of ‘History and topography of the city of York.. and the East Riding..’ by J J Sheahan and T Whellan. (v2, 1856).

The Roche aux Fées is about six leagues S.E. of Rennes, and a mile and a half S. of Esse, and is situated in a field which takes its name from the monument, and is called the field of the Roche aux Fees..
.. Formerly a forest surrounded it. It was at one time preserved with great care; but since the revolution, much injury has been done to it by the wanton folly of the peasantry, who imagined that a treasure lay buried under it.

Yeah, yeah, those awful revolutionary peasants. p85 of the Foreign Quarterly Review v26 (1840/1).

The eponymous fées are of course the Brittany fairies – and we shouldn’t forget their husbands, the poulpicans.

A little to the east of the castle, close by the side of the Noran, a large sandstone has lain from time immemorial, bearing a deep indentation resembling the hoof of a colossal horse with the impress of one of the caulkers of the heel. This has evidently been fashioned by the falling out of a large pebble embedded in the stone, though at first glance it looks like an artificial work.

It is popularly called the Kelpie’s Footmark, and was believed to have been occasioned by his step while bounding about the rocks, soe of the largest of which he not only amused himself overturning when the water was swollen; but, as if conscious of his own unbridled power, boldly seated himself on others, and called lustily for help, in the feigned voice of a drowning person, so that he might lure his victim to the river.

The good people of Watestone were much annoyed in this way, arising, it is said, from the deceptive nature of the adjoining ford, which is much deeper than the clearness of the water would lead one to suppose; and, with a view to deceive the neighbours, when any real case of drowning occured, Kelpie ever and anon called out – “A’ the men o’ Waterstone! Come here! come here!”

Actually, having written that I am less convinced this stone is the right stone – it is just to the east of the Castle’s ruins, but maybe not close enough to the river. But the whole place is a bit weird – “The deil burns up the Vayne!” and it was said that someone looking for treasure in the ruined castle’s mythical dungeons “was forcibly thrust from the mouth of the yawning gulf by an uncouth monster in the shape of a horned ox, who departed in a blaze of fire through a big hle in the wall.” Crumbs.

from p202 of ‘The history and traditions of the land of the Lindsays in Angus and Mearns’ by Andrew Jervise (1853) – digitised on Google Books.

..a barrow and patch of ground still [exist], known by the names of Beattie’s Cairn, and the Mis-sworn Rig. It is said that the circumstance arose from two lairds quarreling about the marches of their lands in this quarter, and witnesses being brought to identify the boundary, the evidence of one of them went to prove that the laird of Balhall had no right to the portion to which he laid claim.

Infuriated at this, and convinced in his own mind that the witness had perjured himself, the laird of Balhall drew a dagger from his belt, and despatched the man on the spot. On examining the body, the fact of the perjury was discovered, it being found that, to save his conscience, the cunning [man] had his shoes filled with earth brought from the laird’s land, in whose favour he was enlisted, and on whose property he swore he stood at the time he gave his oath!

p260 in ‘The history and traditions of the land of the Lindsays in Angus and Mearns’ by Andrew Jervise (1853) – digitised on Google Books.

.. acording to tradition, the stones were brought from the West Water, or from the still more distant hill of Wirran [..]

..local tradition at once solves the mystery [of the use or gathering together of these stones], and says, that the place was merely the abode of fairies, and that a brawny witch carried the whole one morning from the channel of the West Water to the summit of the hill, and would have increased the quantity (there is no saying to what extent), but for the ominous circumstance of her apron string breaking, while carrying one of the largest! -- This stone was allowed to lie where it fell, and is pointed out to this day on the north-east slope of the mountain!

There follows a description of an incident “threescore years” before, from Tigerton. A child had become sickly and some people were convinced that he’d been swapped by the fairies, who “had carried [him] away by stealth to their invisible chambers about the hill of Caterthun.” The only way was to stick him over a ‘blaze of whins’. They craftily did it while his mother was out – and his screams soon determined that he was human after all. Which makes a change in such stories (unless, in this case it serves to underline how silly the peasants are).

From p267 of ‘The history and traditions of the land of the Lindsays in Angus and Mearns’ by Andrew Jervise (1853) – digitised on Google Books.

Cheviot is the highest hill on the Border.. its top is a perfect bog, in some places quite impassable from the accumulation of water, which finds its way through numerous deep sykes to the sides of the hill. Mackenzie says this bog or lough, was so firmly frozen at Midsummer a few years ago, that a person walked over it.

There are two heaps of stones on the top of Cheviot, the one called the Easter and the other the Wester Cairn. Persons ascending the hill from the east generally find it difficult to reach the Wester Cairn, except in very dry weather.

On the north-west side of Cheviot there is a deep chasm, called the Hen Hole, in which there is frequently to be seen a snow egg at Midsummer. There is a tradition, that a party of hunters, when chasing a roe upon Cheviot, were wiled by the fairies into the Hen Hole, and could never again find their way out.

p400 in ‘Local Historian’s Table Book of Remarkable Occurrences’ by M A Richardson (1843) – now digitised on Google Books.

There is a small cavern in the face of the highest cliff on the right bank of the ravine [of Hens Hole / Hell Hole], still accessible, we believe, to the venturesome, though dangerously so; and into this it is said that one of the early hunting Percies, along with some of his hounds, went and never returned. He and the hounds, if we may credit the legend, still lie in the cavern, bound by a magic spell – not dead, but fast asleep, and only to be released by a blast of a hunting horn, blown by some one as brave as ever Hotspur was, and more fortunate.

From ‘Hell’s Hole, Cheviot Hills’ in the Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore and Legend, August 1887.

.. after this, a second circle of the same dimension, with only five large stones remaining; but with a circular cytt or house, 5 feet in diameter, inside the circumference. Our guide informed us that according to local tradition these were called cerrig y pryved, “the stones of the flies.”

Pryfed does mean flies, or bugs, or generally small creepy crawly things, according to my dictionary. ‘Pryfaid’ doesn’t feature at all? or is it a kind of made up plural?

From some Correspondence from H. Longueville Jones to Archaeologia Cambrensis in vol 1, p76 (1846).