Rhiannon

This mountaine is so high and farre mounted into the ayre, that when the countrey about is faire and cleere, the toppe thereof will be hidden in a cloude, which of the inhabitants is taken a sure signe of rain to follow shortly; whereof grewe this proverbe, ”When Percelly weareth a hat, all Penbrokeshire shall weete of that.”

Astonishing weather forecasting from ‘A History of Pembrokeshire’ by George Owen, 1603.

(Partly reprinted in the ‘Cambrian Register’ for the year 1796. p120 – this is where I read it at Google Books.)

When you’re at the stones, you’re on the slope of Bernard’s Well Mountain. The actual ‘Bernard’s Well’ is on the opposite side of road to the Dyffryn Stones.

It’s Saint Bernard to you, and no, he wasn’t a dog. A little tale concerning his spring is mentioned in Giraldus Cambrensis’ Itinary through Wales (chapter 2):

..during the reign of king Henry I., a rich man, who had a residence on the northern side of the Preseleu mountain, was warned for three successive nights, by dreams, that if he put his hand under a stone which hung over the spring of a neighbouring well, called the fountain of St. Bernacus, he would find there a golden torques [sic]. Obeying the admonition on the third day, he received, from a viper, a deadly wound in his finger;

but as it appears that many treasures have been discovered through dreams, it seem to me probable that, with respect to rumours, in the same manner as to dreams, some ought, and some ought not, to be believed.

What’s this saying – that rich people shouldn’t be greedy? If so it was a bit unfair taunting him with the dream in the first place.

Coflein says on the well: “A possibly natural water-filled hollow, protected by a modern masonary hood. Close by are traces of a medieval chapel dedicated to the saint,” and then tantalisingly: “a possible inscribed monolith was formerly noted.”

An alternative name is ‘St Brynach’s Well’, which does seem a bit more persuasive, given his connections with local spots like Carn Ingli.

The stone here represented, known in Welsh as, Y Maen Chwyf, (the Rocking Stone) is situated on the western brink of a ill, called Coed-pen-maen, in the parish of Eglwysilan, Glamorganshire, above the turnpike-road from Merthyr to Cardiff, and nearly equidistant from both towns. From this spot may be seen the celebrated onne-arched bridge over the Taff, near Newbridge, and fine views of several ramifications of the neighbouring hills and valleys. [..] The name of the hill, Coed-pen-maen, (viz. the Wood of the Stone Summit) is doubtless, derived from this stone [..]

A moderate application of strength will give it considerable motion, which may be easily continued with one hand. The under-side slopes around towards the centre, or pivot, and it stands nearly in equilibrium on a rock beneath, the circumstance which imparts to it its facility of motion.

The prevalent opinion of the surrounding inhabitants respecting this ancient stone is, that the Druids imposed on the credulity of the country by pretending to work miracles from it, and that they offered human sacrifices thereon; vulgar errors that are not sustained by the most distant allusion of the primitive British bards and historians.

p24 in ‘The Saturday Magazine’ for Jan.17th, 1835 (online at Google Books).
books.google.co.uk/books?id=m95PAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA23

.. a Druidical circle called the Nine Stones, 28 ft. in diameter. It stands on a bare spot, which, in the belief of the country people, is likely to continue in the same condition, as there is a popular notion that trees will not grow within the circle.

The stones are of a cherty conglomerate, and 8 in number, and one only appears to be wanting.

p118 in ‘Handbook for travellers in Wiltshire, Dorsetshire and Somersetshire’ by John Murray (1859) – on Google Books.

The RCAHMS website says that “An inclined standing stone was recorded at this location through fieldwalking in areas of the eastern side of the island of Coll.” – this was in 2003.

I wonder if it was the stone mentioned here in the ‘Life of Johnson’ by James Boswell ( it is on the way to Breacacha castle):

We set out after dinner for Breacacha, the family seat of the Laird of Col, accompanied by the young laird [..] We passed by a place where there is a very large stone, I may call it a rock; ‘a vast weight for Ajax’. The tradition is, that a giant threw such another stone at his mistress, up to the top of a hill, at a small distance; and that she in return, threw this mass down to him. It was all in sport.

Sheer speculation I admit. It could probably be any number of stones on Col. Found in vol V – ‘journal of a tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson’ 1773. Online at Google Books. Supposing you know the true stone this relates to – please leave a comment.

Later on they went to see the other ‘great stone’ in the story. I’m afraid to report that it “did not repay [their] trouble in getting to it.”

From the top of [Castletimon] hill the legend has it, that some mighty giant of old hurled the covering stone at his brother giant of Ballinaclea hill in a moment of anger, but, falling short of its intended aim, the stone rested on the bank of the river, there meeting the pillar-stones flung by him of Balinaclea at his antagonist of Castletimon.

He concludes the article by saying he will leave the Ogham stone, ruined church and cromlech:
under the protection of the genii of Castletimon hill, and the peasantry of the neighbourhood; and I hope that the dreaded anger of the former, or the stout hands of the latter, may preserve them from the Vandalic clutches of those who would convert them into gate-posts, hob-stones, or road-metal.

‘Description of a Cromleac and Ogham monument near Castletimon Church, County of Wicklow, by Mr J C Tuomey, N T.
in the Proc/Trans of Kilkenny and South East of Ireland Arch. Soc. vol III (1854-5). (viewable at Google Books).

The ‘giant’s stone’ is the name by which it is known in the neighbourhood, and we are told that it was thrown by him from the top of Castletimon hill, and that the scores [of the Ogham] are the marks of his fingers and nails when handling it, previous to flinging it down.

Others admit the scores to be the marks of his fingers, but assert that it was kicked down, and that the hole in the end of it was made by the top of the giant’s shoe when he struck it with his foot. If you object to the possibility of sending so large a stone such a distance with the force of a kick, you are met with the reply, “Oh! sure the same giant cast the big stone in Brennan’s field” (the covering stone of the cromleac) “from the top of the hill, at the giant of Ballinaclea, and if so, he could easily kick down this stone.” Good logic, certainly [..]

The legend further saith, that once upon a time [..] a neighbour not having the fear of the ”good people before his eyes, took it home for a ”hobstone;” but those spiteful little gentry so annoyed him, by keeping the spoons, trenchers, and noggins dancing on his dresser every night that it remained in his house, that after a week he returned it to its former place. Others say that the man did not take it home, but only got it into his car for that purpose, and that the rest of the neighbours compelled him to throw it out again.

Again, you hear that when the Danes erected the altar (cromleac) in Brennan’s field, it was on this stone they scored the number of kings they had beheaded in their travels; but that, being so hotly pursued after the battle of Clontarf by Brian Boru’s soldiers, they dropped the stone here on the side of the road, as they ran down to their ships at Ballynacarrig.

Associated as the history of the Ogham stone is with these old stories, I am glad to find that the people would not wish to part with it. Some time ago a lady of rank in the neighbourhood wrote to the proprietor of the land [..] for permission to have it removed to her own home. [..] The people evinced a reluctance to having it taken away. They were asked did they ascribe to it any cure or charm; they said not, but that if it was of any value, the place in which it had rested for so many ages was best entitled to it.

This lively interest [does the local people] great honour, and should put to the blush many in the higher ranks of life, who would probably think that Dunbrody Abbey would make a capital cow-shed, and the Ogham stone at Castletimon an excellent sill for the door of it.

‘Description of a Cromleac and Ogham monument near Castletimon Church, County of Wicklow, by Mr J C Tuomey, N T.
p193 of the Proc/Trans of Kilkenny and South East of Ireland Arch. Soc. vol III (1854-5). (viewable at Google Books).

On this eminence, which was anciently called Eldebury or Oldbury Hill,, and on which, Mr. Manning says, “were the visible traces of a Camp,” now possibly hidden by the plantations, was a Chapel, dedicated to St. Anne, which was erected about 1334; and in June the same year, Orleton, bishop of Winchester, granted license to the abbot and convent of Chertsey to perform divine service in the new-built chapel during his pleasure. In the August following, he granted an indulgence of forty days to such persons as should repair to and contribute to the fabric and its ornaments.* Nothing remains of this edifice except a rude fragment of a wall.

“Near the top of the Hill,” says Mr. Aubrey, “is a fine clear Spring, dress’d with squar’d stone; within a little of which, on the hill side, lies a huge stone (a conglobation of gravel and sand), breccia, which they call the Devil’s Stone, and believe it cannot be mov’d, and that treasure is hid underneath.“** The spring still remains, and is stated to be seldom frozen when other springs are so; but the stone was removed and destroyed many years ago.

Another Spring, once highly reputed for its medicinal virtues, rises on the north-east side of the hill, in the wood or coppice called Monk’s Grove, which gives name to the seat inhabited by the Right Hon. Lady Montfort. This spring, according to Aubrey, had been long covered up and lost; but was again found and re-opened two or three years before he wrote. The water is now received into a bason about twelve feet square, lined with tiles.

*Manning and Bray, ‘Surrey’, vol iii. p226.
**Aubrey’s ‘Surrey’, vol iii. p185.

From vol 2, p243 of ‘A Topographical History of Surrey’ by Brayley and Mantell (1850).

The mountain features in a traditional song called ‘Tibbie Fowler’:

Be a lassie e’er sae black
Gin she hae the penny siller,
Set her up on Tintock tap,
The wind will blaw a man till her.

Be a lassie e’er so fair,
An she want the penny siller,
A flie may fell her in the air,
Before a man be even’d till her.

(I hope a Scottish person can explain this?! Is it about only being marriageable if you’re rich?? Is ‘siller’ silver?)

After a slightly more dialecty version of the rhyme below, the ‘Scottish Journal of Topography, Antiquities, Traditions, &c’ says:

“On the summit,” says Chambers, “is an immense accumulation of stones, said to have been brought thither at different times from the vale (distance three Scotch miles), by the country people, upon whom the task was enjoined as a penance, by the priests of St John’s Kirk, which was situated in a little glen at the north-east skirt of the mountain, though no vestige of its existence now remains except the burying ground.

The summit of Tintock is often enveloped in mist; and the ‘kist’ mentioned in the rhyme, was, perhaps, a large stone, remarkable over all the rest of the heap for having a hole in its upper side, which the country people say was formed by the grasp of Sir William Wallace’s thumb, on the evening previous to his defeating the English at Boghall, in the neighbourhood.

The hole is generally full of water, on account of the drizzling nature of the atmosphere; but if it is meant by the ‘caup’ [cup] mentioned, we must suppose that the whole is intended as a mockery of human strength; for it is certainly impossible to lift the stone and drink off the contents of the hollow.

A ballad by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, entitled “The Spirit of Tintoc, or Johnnie Bell and the Kelpie,” was published anonymously in 1803. The story is the adventurous undertaking of a drouthy tailor, who resolves to quench his thirst from the magic cup..

Naturally nothing good came of it. The rest is on p149 (v1, 1847) and it’s scanned in on Google Books should you wish to investigate.

The last time that Arran saw an enemy on its soil, was during the temporary occupation of Scotland by the usurper Oliver Cromwell. He placed a garrison of eighty men in Brodick Castle [..] His troops fell victims to the angry passions of the Highlanders. It would appear that they used some improper liberties with the females of the island, and otherwise conducted themselves with the usual license of conquerors. The Highlanders, fired by such insults, watched their opportunity for revenge; and, taking the Englishmen by surprise when out on a foraging excursion, they put them all to the sword. The last of the party that fell was dragged forth from his concealment under a large stone near the road side at Sannox, which still, from its remarkable appearance, attracts the notice of visitors.

I’m sure he wasn’t, but who wants to spoil a good story. From p 22 of the Buteshire section of the New Statistical Account of Scotland (v5 – 1845).

On the bank of the river near Slidry, there is a long grave-like mound, distinguished by two large erect stones standing, the one at the head, the other at the foot, at an intervening distance of about 30 feet. This is supposed to be an elongated trench, in which the warriors slain in battle have been buried; tradition claims it as the grave of one of Fingal’s heroes.

from ‘On the Rude Unsculptured Monoliths and Ancient fortifications of the Island of Arran’ by Mr John McArthur. In ‘The Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal’ – v9, 1859.

I found this, though it adds little more:

.. the Borderers had signals, and places of rendezvous, peculiar to each tribe. If the party set forward before all the members had joined, a mark, cut in the turf, or on the bark of a tree, pointed out to the stragglers the direction which the main body had pursued.*

*At Linton, in Roxburghshire, there is a circle of stones surrounding a smooth plot of turf, called the Tryst, or place of appointment, which tradition avers to have been the rendezvous of the neighbouring warriors. The name of the leader was cut in the turf, and the arrangement of the letters announced to his followers the course which he had taken. See Statistical Account of the Parish of Linton.

p lxxxix in the 1821 (5th) edition of ‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border’ by Walter Scott – on Google Books.

also:

In different parishes, such as Moorbattle, Linton, and others, are to be found what are called tryst stanes. These are great stones commonly situated on high grounds. They are placed perpendicularly in rows, not unfrequently in a circular direction. It is said, as also the name imports, that in times of hostility they marked the places of resort for the borderers when they were assembling for any expedition of importance.

‘The beauties of Scotland’ (1805) by Robert Forsyth, p103 – also on Google Books.

It’s been suggested that the Green Chapel of the Green Knight might be based on this cave.

.. the suggestion [was] initially advanced by Mabel Day (’Introduction to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight‘, EETS 210, 1940, p. xx) and developed and articulated in closer detail by Robert Kaske (’Gawain’s Green Chapel and the Cave at Wetton Mill’, Medieval Literature and Folklore Studies 1972, pp. 111ff.)..

..Having visited the site, I must admit that the case.. seems rather intriguing. A short distance from the stream a rugged knoll, overgrown with grass and weeds and with a crevice=like, rock-strewn cave about thirty feet long extending most of the way through it, tops a rather steep slope, separated from the stream only by a narrow gravel road. The knoll is faced at a distance of about three hundred yards across the stream by a forbidding-looking fissure-like hole leading into a deep, narrow cavern in the towering rock known as Ossom’s Crag topping a steep hillside. Here, then, the ‘Green Chapel’ would be facing the hole in the rock whence the Green Knight so dramatically emerges...

Anyway after all that waffle, I think a more commonly held belief is that this part of the story is set at Lud’s Church?

It’s a bit confusing up here – there’s a lot going on.

[Kilburn lies] immediately below the precipitous south-west corner of the Hambleton Hills, and not far from the supposedly bottomless lake called Gormire. The hill-end bears the figure of a White Horse, 300 feet long and 200 feet high. It was cut in 1857, and it is said to commemorate a legendary individual mounted on a white horse who fell off the cliff, possibly into Gormire. Since that date, it has been scoured about once in seven years.

The name White Mare Crag or White Stone Cliff is older than the figure*. There is a racecourse, now used only for training, on the flat hill-top, 800 feet above the plain. A collection of medieval Latin ghost-tales compiled by a monk of the nearby Byland Abbey contains a story about a white horse.

[..] the Village Feast begins on the Saturday after 6 July, and may therefore be associated with Old Midsummer Day [..]

*This might be true, but the name actually refers to somewhere further along Sutton Bank, above the Gormire lake. There are various ‘tumuli’ and cairns in the vicinity, and a cave called the ‘Fairies Parlour’.
The above is from
Kilburn Feast and Lord Mayor
N. A. Hudleston
Folklore, Vol. 69, No. 4. (Dec., 1958), pp. 263-265.

More horsish stuff. Surely why the creator of the white horse was inspired to create it?

Gormire.-
“When Gormire riggs shall be covered with hay,
The white mare of Whitestone Cliff will bear it away.”
Richmondshire p240.

This white mare was a beast more or less mythical, which sprang over a cliff with a young lady rider, whose body was never found.

Additions to “Yorkshire Local Rhymes and Sayings”
E. G.
The Folk-Lore Record, Vol. 3, No. 2. (1880), pp. 174-177.

You will notice the ‘Devil’s Parlour’ cave at Roulston Scar – as Paulus mentions, the Devil leapt from here to Hood Hill, carrying a stone.

More than one of the fieldnotes above mentions the Caw Gap above the stones. Well, just by the gap is the ‘Bogle Hole’:

It was in the immediate vicinity of Bogle Hole that during one of my earliest visits I was told by a countryman of superhuman appearances there, of the huntsman’s dogs turning back from the pursuit of animals which were something more than what they seemed to be, and of a man who in trying to fly from a high crag was killed, as we might have supposed he would be; but my informant did not attribute his fate to want of skill in the means he had adopted for his flight, but solely from his having neglected to make an offering of barley-cake to the rocks [..]

- Charles Roach Smith’s Retrospections, Social and Archaeological, vol. i. p.181.

From Notes, Queries, Notices and News
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 1, No. 7. (Jul., 1883), pp. 226/7.

Drewton, a neighbouring village, marks, as it is said, the site of Druid’s town, where a stone about twelve feet in height yet standing was so much venerated by the natives, that Augustine stood upon it to preach, and erected a cross thereupon that the worshipper might learn to associate it with a purer faith. It is still known as Austin’s Stone.

From p34 of ‘A month in Yorkshire’ by Walter White (1854). Well Walter, I don’t think you saw it yourself, because frankly this is a natural stone and to say it’s twelve feet in height is slightly misleading. But it’s interestingly placed, right at the top of Austin’s Dale, a narrow valley, which has springs in it that lead into the Drewton Beck. Augustine would have to have shouted.
(I know this is a bit dodgy – part christianised site, part natural – wholly speculative for tma).

Some more, gleaned from the extensive folklore bibliography by Jeremy Harte ( hoap.co.uk/aatf1.rtf )

1986iv Philip Heselton, ‘St. Austin’s Stone’, Northern Earth Mysteries 31: 10-12 –

St. Austins Stone near South Cave is a rock outcrop where Saint Augustine is said to have made converts, baptising them in a nearby well. The site is used for church services. Every seven years, part of the stone falls away, but it always grows again. Locations:- Yorkshire (East Riding).

Turn we now to [..] that curiously conical hill sticking up alone in the centre of the Crinan moss. This, taking its name from the river which winds round its base, is called Dun-Add, and from which time immemorial has been the favourite haunt of the witches and fairies of Glassrie [..]

A farmer laird of Dun-Add had the second sight. One night he was lying in bed with a churn of cream placed before the fire (yes this is a bit of a set up but it’s for the story). He saw the fairies enter the room with a child they’d stolen – they washed it with the cream as part of their Strange Rites. When the cock crowed, they dashed off, leaving behind a little bag. The farmer, much to his wife’s disgust, poured the cream away in the yard. As it turned out, the dogs that lapped it up fell dead – so that gave some credibility to the farmer’s bizarre story.

When he checked the bag he found the following articles:

.. a little stone spade, something like the stone arrowheads which are frequently found and known by the name of elf shots, a little stone pot for making the fairy porridge, some stone balls, and other affairs. Each of these was possessed of different virtues [..]

The spade was laid beneath the pillow of a sick person, and by the subsequent appearance or non-appearance of perspiration the recovery or death of the invalid was to be discovered. The round balls were to be immersed in a pail of water which afterwards was given as a drink to cattle, who thereby were cured of any disease that might have befallen them; and all the other articles had each a virtue which I have now forgotten, if I ever heard of them [..]

p67 of ‘The Royal Route’ by Rusticus (1858).
Well who knows if this is tradition or not. But it’s the right sort of thing.

On p74, he mentions that the fort of Dunadd possesses “the rare advantage of a good well of water, springing out of the rock almost at the crest of the hill. As everything about this singular place was supposed to have a supernatural character, this well, according to popular belief, rose and fell with the sea tide.”

also that:

“On the farm of Rudale, but a short distance from Dunadd, there is a singular cavity in the face of a steep rock, bounding one side of a tiny and secluded dell amongst the hills, with sloping grassy banks opposite to the rock, which is known by the name of Fingal’s pulpit.”

Because Fingal and his friends often hung out at Dunadd, you see. The pulpit is 8ft by 2 and a half, covered overhead, and containing “two low but comfortable seats formed of the solid rock”.

Higher up on that hill (Rudale Hill) there’s the impression of a foot – well, that’s because Fingal’s son, Ossian was out hunting when a boy, and was attacked by a huge stag. So he leapt away – once, onto Rudale Hill – twice, to Dunadd, where there’s more impressions: one of a foot, and then “he fell upon his knee, forming the circular cavity, and saving himself by grasping with both hands the rock..” (the latter are on an upright rock, if you want to look. Rudale seems to be ‘Rudle’ today).

Elsewhere, someone is being rational about the Rudall / Rudle marks: With respect to the ‘footmarks’ about Rudall, I once heard that such a thing or things existed; and on going to examine them found them in abundance; but they were natural marks in the rock. in some of these rocks there are concretions of various sizes, and of a long, oval shape, composed of several layers or coats half worn through, and lying flat in their longest diameter, they have a very close resemblance to a footmark. This may have given rise to the legend of the footmarks on or near Rudall. – Rev. R J Mapleton, Handbook for Ardrishaig p41.

In England, most of the peasantry swallow with credulous avidity any ridiculous stories of ghosts, hobgoblins and fairies. There certainly is, however, in the Welsh, a greater inclination to credulity than an Englishman can discover among his own people. There are but few of the mountaineers of Wales, who have not by heart a string of legendary stories of disembodied beings.

The cavern in Llanymynech hill, not far from Oswestry, has been long noted as the residence of a clan of fairies, to whom the neighbouring villages attribute many surprising and mischievous pranks. Whilst they have stopped to listen at the mouth of the cave, the people state that they have sometimes even heard the little elves in converstation, but this was always in such low whispers, that the words which were reverberated along the sides and roof of the cavern could not be distinguished. The stream that runs across a distant part of this cavern is celebrated as the place where the fairy washerwomen and labourers have been heard frequently at work.

p323 of ‘Excursions in North Wales’ by William Bingley (third edition, 1839).

Camden, in his “Britannia,” informs us, -- “In a rock in the island of Barry, in Glamorganshire, there is a narrow chink, or cleft, to which if you put your ear you shall perceive all such sorts of noises as you may fancy smiths at work under ground, strokes of hammers, blowing of bellows, grinding of tools.” At Worm’s head, in the peninsular of Gower in Glamorganshire, these sounds are, even now, often heard; and it requires but a moderate stretch of imagination to create all this cyclopean imagery, when the sea is rolling in cavities under our feet, and the tone of its voice is magnified by confinement and repercussion.

From p151 of ‘The Philosophy of Mystery’ by Walter Cooper Dendy (1841).

.. In a rock or cliff, by the sea=side in Glamorganshire, near the Isle of Barry, there appeareth a little chink, into which, if you lay your ear, you shall hear a noise as of smiths at work – one while the blowing of bellows, another while striking of sledge and hammer, sometime the sound of the grindstone and iron tools rubbing against it, the hissing sparks also of steel gads within holes as they are beaten, yea and the puffing noise of fire burning in the furnace. Now I am persuaded that the sound comes of the rush of the sea water.

Sounds far too complicated for that. But you could be right.

On my ascent of the Vann mountain in Brecon, there often came a mass of limestone rolling down the precipice. “Ah sure,” said the old shepherd, who was watching his fold on the mountain-side, “the fairies are at their gambols, master, for they sometimes do play at bowls with these chalk stones.”
Such was his explanation; but, on gaining another ridge of the Brecon Beacon, I starteled a whole herd of these fairies, who scudded off as fast as their legs could carry them, having first changed themselves into a flock of sheep.

From ‘The Philosophy of Mystery’ by Walter Cooper Dendy (1841). Such cynicism from a man writing a book about apparitions.

Mr. Stuart adverted to the varying circumstances under which flint arrowheads were found. The popular belief which long regarded them as “elf-darts,” and which was not confined to Scotland, had been expressed by the well-known Scottish geographer, Robert Gordon of Straloch, about two centuries ago. After giving some details about them, he adds that these wonderful stones are sometimes found in the fields, and in public and beaten roads, but never by searching for them; to-day perhaps one will be found where yesterday nothing could be seen, and in the afternoon in places where before noon there was none, and this most freqently under clear skies and in summer days. He then gives instances related to him by a man and woman of credit, each of whom while riding found an arrowhead in their clothes in this unexpected way.

Described on p174 of ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ Jan-June 1861.

What a scoop if this were true.

[A] curiosity in [Old Radnor] church [is] the extraordinary font, of the date of which it is impossible to form any opinion beyond the fact of its being a very early one, from the enormous dimensions of the bowl. It stands upon four clumsy feet, the under portion of the original mass having been cut away, leaving these rude supports.

The material is of a hard porphyritic rock, unlike any stone known in the vicinity, but said to be identical as to its character with the stones below in the valley, known as the Four Stones; so that if this is the fact, it is probable that it has been removed at some very early period from this so-called Druidic group, and converted to Christian use.

It’s so easy to get confused when you’re not a geologist. But if you are.. get down to the church immediately! Whatever the truth, it’s a nice romantic thought. And ties in nicely with other speculation about the church.

from p366 of Archaeologia Cambrensis, v9 (third series), 1863.

Here’s a picture of it, at ‘Gathering the Jewels’. It really does have some resemblance to the squat Four Stones? but it is weird anyway, and seriously old if it really is 8th century as GTJ suggests (much older than the church).
peoplescollection.wales/items/30749#?xywh=-263%2C-1%2C1061%2C750

I also spotted this intriguing stoney snippet in the Gentleman’s Magazine (p514 in the Jul-Dec v11 for 1861):

..it was still a saying in Wales, “I would gladly carry a stone to his grave,“* and at Radnor it was, until very lately, the custom for mourners to carry a stone, which they cast down outside the churchyard.

*I can’t really tell if this is nice or nasty.

Throughout Europe and even adjacent areas there was the widespread belief in thunderstones. These peculiar stones (prehistoric flint and stone axes) were thought to have crashed into the earth during a lightning strike. Although nowadays this superstition has largely vanished, it was still widely accepted in the first half of the 20th century.

Deinse* describes this situation for the Dutch province of Overijssel, directly south of Drenthe. He reports that virtually every farmer has at least one prehistoric axe at his farm. They were believed to protect the house against lightning, as lightning never strikes the same place twice. He even reported that particular axes were believed to possess special powers. Small bits of stone were scraped off these axes and were given to children as a medicine against convulsions.

Deinse, J.J. (1925): Uit het Land van Katoen en Heide – Oudheidkundige en Folkloristische schetsen uit Twente. p102-111

This is from p25 of ‘Ceci n’est pas une hache. Neolithic Depositions in the Northern Netherlands’ by Karsten Wentink, 2006 – which you can read online at Google Books – it has lots of Serious archaeological information and discussion in it.

The writer is contemplating how stone axeheads might have been used, and concludes from their variety of sizes that they were tools (or the larger ones being weapons).

.. the large celt appears to have been fixed in a cleft stick, or enclosed within the folds of a tough, slender branch [..] It is said that when the Breton peasant finds a celt, called in most countries on the Continent a “thunderstone,” he places it in the cleft of a growing branch or sapling, and leaves it there until the wood has formed and hardened round it; but this must have taken a great length of time. We do not, however, find the slightest trace or mark of such a handle on a single celt in this Collection [that of the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy].

From p46 in ‘A Descriptive Catalogue of the Antiquities ... in the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy’ by W R Wilde (1857) – on Google Books.

I own, I was thunderstruck* at the report of this singular instance of superstition, and suspended my belief of its existence till I was at length convinced by the testimony of my senses. The old lady, who possesses this miraculous thunderbolt, lives, at this moment, in the parish of St. Keverne, adjoining to Manaccan. She informed me that it was found, many years ago, at no great distance from her house, just after a thunderstorm, half buried in the ground, and was taken up hot and smoking; and that its virtue was accidentally discovered by one of the family, “who lost the rheumatism” merely by handling it. On asking her what was her method of applying her thunderbolt to her patients, her answer was, that ”She boil’d ‘en for about three hours, and gave the water to her patients, with directions to bathe the part affected; and that she had cured hundreds. – “Boil’d dunderbolt was a vine thing for the rheumatis,” said an old man present. – - It is a perfect celt.

p28 of ‘The Old English Gentleman: A Poem, by Mr. Polwhele’ by Richard Polwhele, published 1797. Online at Google Books.

*yes very good.

A celt (commonly called in this neighbourhood a thunderbolt) was some years ago found on [West Looe] Down. The common people believe these celts to be produced by thunder, and thrown down from the clouds; and that they shew what weather will ensue by changing their colour.

p32 of ‘The Parochial History of Cornwall’ by Davies Gilbert (v4) 1838. Also on Google Books.

This version has a happier outcome for the Devil:

At a short distance from the village are the disconnected stones known as the Devil’s Quoits [..]; the name arises from the popular tradition that the Devil played here with a beggar for his soul, and won by the throwing of these huge stones.

p89 in ‘A Handbook for Travellers in Berks, Bucks and Oxfordshire’, published by John Murray (1860).

It is quite certain, [..] that Ethelred king of Mercia, was a great benefactor to [Bardney Abbey]. And when this monarch relieved himself from the cares of government after a long reign of war and bloodshed, in which he had recovered “the isle of Lindsey” from the Northumbrians, and ravaged the kingdom of Kent, sparing neither age nor sex, church, nor monastery, by resigning his kingdom; to atone for his misdeeds, he retired to spend the remainder of his life in Bardney Abbey, and accepted the office of its abbot [..]. A large barrow or tumulus still remains near the site of the abbey, where tradition says he was buried. It is called to this day “King’s (Conig) Garth.”

p35 of ‘An account of the religious houses formerly situated on the eastern side of the river Witham’ by the Rev. George Oliver (1846). Online at Google Books.

In May 1836, I was one of a numerous party who proceeded with the late Mr. Jonathan Gray from the house of the Vicar of Kirkby Moorside, to inspect and open some of the tumuli and cairns which are scattered over the dreary hills north of the Vale of Pickering..

..a conspicuous object for many miles round, was the large conical heap of stones called Obtrush Roque. In the dales of this part of Yorkshire we might expect to find, if anywhere, traces of the old superstitions of the Northmen, as well as their independence and hospitality, and we do find that Obtrush Roque was haunted by the goblin.

But ‘Hob’ was also a familiar and troublesome visitor of one of the farmers, and caused him so much vexation and petty loss, that he resolved to quit his house in Farndale and seek some other home. Very early in the morning, as he was trudging on his way, with all his household goods and gods in a cart, he was accosted in good Yorkshire by a restless neighbour, with “I see you’re flitting.” The reply came from Hob out of the churn – “Ay, we’re flutting.” Upon which the farmer, concluding that change of air would not rid him of the daemon, turned his horse’s head homeward.

This story is in substance the same as that narrated on the Scottish Border, and in Scandinavia; and may serve to show for how long a period and with what conformity, even to the play on the vowel, some traditions may be preserved in secluded districts..

.. [They investigated the ‘goblin-haunted mound’] but within the kist were no urns, no bones, no treasures of any kind, except a tail-feather from some farmyard chanticleer. The countrymen said this place of ancient burial had been opened many years ago, and that then gold was found in it. It seemed to us that it must have been recently visited by a fox.

p212 of ‘The rivers, mountains and sea-coast of Yorkshire’ by John Phillips (1853).

Not only the common people, but even the clergy, and better sort, in the interior of the Highlands, till about sixty or seventy years ago, believed in ghosts, fairies, brownies, hob-gobblings, and the like. I fell in with an old man, that positively insisted he had seen them, and that a gentleman, belonging to the parish of Boharm, upon shooting among fairies, who were dancing round a green tumulus, one summer evening, wounded one of them, so that it could not fly off with the rest; that he caught it and kept it all night; but that, recovering, it flew away in the morning.

p409 in ‘Travels in Scotland, by an unusual route’ by James Hall (v2) 1807. (But maybe Boharm was a parish in Moray, rather than the Highlands. Far away enough not to let the truth interfere perhaps).

In Cambret Moor, in the days of Symson, there was a stone of four or five feet in diameter, called “the Penny Stone,” under which money was supposed to have been concealed. This stone had upon it the resemblance of that draught which is commonly called the walls of Troy. It is to be feared some avaricious person has destroyed this stone, in the hope of finding the hidden treasure, because it is not now to be found.

But never fear!! I give you – the Penny Stone! Undestroyed and intact. Complete with Walls of Troy maze. (Not sure who Mr Symson was yet).

p332 in the ‘New Statistical Account of Scotland’ for Kirkcudbrightshire. Vol 4, 1845.