Standing Stone (destroyed): OS Grid Reference – NS 99 77
Archaeology & History
Not included in the Canmore listings, nor that of the Scottish Royal Commission (1929), this lost standing stone once stood somewhere in Linlithgow town itself. It was referred to in the huge but obscure Registrum Magni Sigili Regum Scotorum from 1586 through to 1614 as one of the street-names in the town, written several times as ‘Standandstane’ — which, as MacDonald (1941) told in his fine survey, means literally a “Standing Stone.” The place was also referred to several times in other local accounts, dating from 1664, but was last mentioned in 1699 and, it appears, disappeared soon afterwards.
Perhaps some record of the site may be available in local witchcraft or folklore accounts. Does anybody know?
References:
MacDonald, Angus, The Place-Names of West Lothian, Oliver & Boyd: Edinburgh 1941.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the Counties of Midlothian and West Lothian, HMSO: Edinburgh 1929.
From Ilkley, take the Cowpasture Road up past Cow & Calf rocks, the hotel and along the moorside. A few hundred yards further, just before the next farm-building on your right, walk up the Rushy Beck path to the top. Crossing the stream at the top, now walk diagonally south-ish into the heather for some 200 yards, a short distance before the hillside begins to rise up again onto the next ridge. Remains of this ‘enclosure’ is all around you!
Archaeology & History
When the normal moorland vegetation covers this prehistoric site, you’d barely know there was anything here apart from various rocky rises and undulations in the ground and perhaps, if you were seeking out old stuff, what would seem to be lines of stone walls bending away onto the moor. But when the heaths have been burnt back, a whole new vista unfolds itself! You see before you a fantastic, well-preserved, unexcavated prehistoric enclosure, whose origins are probably neolithic, but whose history and use stretched through the Bronze Age and into the Iron Age—and it’s not alone! East, west and south of this particular enclosure, other prehistoric walled structures are found stretching all across the landscape hereby, structurally similar and also used over very long periods in prehistory. For antiquarians and historians alike, this is a truly impressive place indeed. In all honesty, the description I give here does not do the place justice!
Northwestern section of enclosure walling
Things like ‘settlements’ and ‘enclosures’ are traditionally relegated by purist archaeologists to be little more than domestic or utilitarian sites: places where our ancestors kept cattle; or were used for defensive purposes; or lived for long periods of the year. Of course, these simple ideas are effective and true at some places; but here at Woofa Bank—in this particular enclosure—something more than just domestic activity was enacted, and over the period of many centuries by the look of things. We surmise this by the incidence of at least fifteen cup-and-ring stones being found within the enclosure itself; and at its very centre is a small standing stone, not previously recorded, that has perhaps five petroglyphs around it. The presence of such a large cluster of cup-and-ring stones close together within the enclosure would seem to suggest ritual activity.
Carved rock & central stoneClose-up of, dancing anthropomorphic figure?
One of the carvings at the centre of the enclosure (listed in the Boughey & Vickerman survey as Carving 372) has been suggested to represent a dancing human figure (the image here shows the anthropomorphic element), which it may well be. The incidence of this central stone and its surrounding petroglyphs has important magico-religious implications, relating it as a site used for creation myth narratives and repetitions (transpersonal explorations at this site may prove worthwhile). The wider extended enclosure with more petroglyphs contained inside it, suggest that additional ritual performances were enacted here; these may have had something to do with the cluster of prehistoric tombs scattered on the moorland plain 100 yards to the west, but we might never know.
Easternmost standing stone
It seems that the walled enclosure itself was constructed around the earlier cup-and-ring stones, probably many centuries later—but we need excavations here to give us more precise details. Much of the enclosure walling itself has the hallmarks of being late Bronze Age to Iron Age, whilst we know that prehistoric rock art can date back into the neolithic period; and from this period Eric Cowling (1946) reported that, at Woofa Bank, “at the western end of the ridge,” just above this enclosure, a neolithic flint site existed.
Cowling’s 1946 plan
Cowling (1946) himself was one of very few archaeologists to even mention this impressive site, in a section exploring the “Iron Age” sites along Green Crag Slack at the eastern end of Ilkley Moor. He wrote:
“At the other end of the site under the shadow of Woofa Bank and near the source of the Rushy Beck, is another D-shaped enclosure apparently unfinished. The plan is of a circle with a flattened side and does not exceed twenty-four yards across in any direction. Here the enclosing wall shows five or six courses at the lower end side and a simple entrance to the west.”
Western entrance to enclosureStone marking eastern entrance
Though Cowling’s measurements are way out! The enclosure itself is much larger than he describes. For the most part, three-quarters of it give the impression of it being a large oval shape, but the design and outline of the walling changes on its southeastern side and kinks inward, in an arc, to eventually meet the walling in the middle eastern section. Its entire circumference measures approximately 220 yards all the way round; it is 65 yards across east-west; and about 61 yards north-south. The average height of the main walling is between 2-3 feet tall, and is made up of many large rocks, some of them positioned upright as standing stones, all packed together with earth and countless thousands of smaller stones. The walling itself is between 2-3 yards wide in many places and has two main entrances: one near the middle of the western wall and the other almost opposite to the east. The eastern entrance is marked by a standing stone between 3-4 feet tall. No gaps are visible at all on the northern curved section of the enclosure. On the overgrown southern edges, not all of the walling is visible and much of it is overgrown. On the whole it’s still very much as Cowling found it, with the arc of walling in this part of the enclosure difficult to make out clearly. There is also another line of walling that runs off to the east, beyond the main enclosure itself.
Carved rock in western wall
The clearer, more visible western line of walling, running south of the entrance on that side, has a large singular cup-and-ring stone laid right along its axis (carving 366 in the Boughey & Vickerman [2003] survey), a short distance before the walling changes direction east-west and runs along the bottom of the slope.
Folklore
Tradition tells that the tribal people from this site were involved in a battle with the Romans along this moorland plain.
…to be continued…
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Eliade, Mircea, Images and Symbols, Harvill Press: London 1961.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Size, Nicholas, The Haunted Moor, William Walker: Otley 1934.
From Threshfield, go up Skirethorns Lane for about 1/2 mile, where the lane takes a sharp right. Continue uphill for nearly 2 miles to a metal gate. Go through the gate into the fields on your left where you’ll see this pair of curious standing stones ahead of you (if you keep walking uphill in the same direction, you’ll reach the impressive Hammond Close enclosure above you).
Archaeology & History
There seem to be no references in either archaeology or geology texts about this site which, when you approach it and consider the prevalence of other prehistoric sites all round you, strongly suggests that they are either archetypal standing stones, or the remains of a collapsed cairn, with the surrounding mound removed. This is certainly the case at the Druid’s Altar or Bordley Circle visible a few hundred yards west of here, on the same grassland plain.
The stones alone, looking north
As you can see in the photos, the stones here are 4 feet tall and stand in isolation from the excess of neighbouring settlements and enclosures. A scatter of small stones—perhaps packing stones, perhaps the remains of cairn-spoil—is evident at the foot of the stones. It was initially thought that the uprights here could have been the remains of enclosure or settlement walling, as we find an excess of such remains on the hills here, but this isn’t the case. Other unrecorded prehistoric remains scatter this part of the countryside.
Follow the directions to reach the Little Skirtful of Stones giant prehistoric cairn. Once here, look for the singular rocks out of the many thousands which make up the giant cairn, mainly from the middle to the northern-half of the cairn, and you’ll find them amidst the mass!
Archaeology & History
Cup-marking near the centre of the cairn
Despite the task sounding difficult, it’s not too hard locating the cup-marked rocks within this giant cairn. As I recall there should be five of them, though the Boughey & Vickerman (2003) survey only list four and I only have photos of four of them as well…so I reckon age is probably getting to me at last! There could very well be more of them amidst this massive tomb. But we certainly can’t rely on the Boughey & Vickerman (2003) survey for the carvings at this site as they give the wrong grid references for each of the cup-markings listed, with them all being a kilometre east from the site of the tomb itself! Awesome! God knows what their cartographer was on when he did the profiles for these carvings! (there are plenty of spliff-butts scattered over this moor…..) Not only that, but the position they cite of the relative cup-markings within the cairn are also wrong.
Another portable stoneCup-mark at outer edge
But for those of you who like to know the archaeological data, here’s what was said: Carving 391a is a “small rock towards SW edge of cairn, with single worn cup”; but this stone is actually closer to the northern section of the cairn. Carving 391b was told to be a “small dome-shaped rock at extreme S edge of cairn with single, small clear cup at top of dome.” This again is more on the northern section of the cairn, away from the centre. Carving 391c was described as a “small oval, rounded rock at N edge of cairn, with single, broad, shallow worn cup.” Whilst carving 391d which was told to be a “small rock at SSE edge of cairn, with single small worn cup.” However, we have to take into account that any errors about their position may simply be down to the fact that the small rocks have been moved.
Smoothed cupShowing different rock-type
As you’ll see in the photos here, one of them is actually near the very centre of the cairn, with the cup-marking etched into the edge of the small rock itself. I’m not quite sure if this is the additional fifth carving in the cairn, or whether it’s one of those wrongly ascribed as being in another position. It’s hard to tell, as the local Ilkley Archaeology team don’t publish their findings and information on-line as they should do and unless you’re in their little club they’re hard to get info out of. So this will have to do for the time being I’m afraid. Also note how one of the cup-marked stones is of a rock-type different to the local millstone grit.
Folklore
The creation myth of the Little Skirtful itself tells that the giant Rombald (who gives his name to the moor) was in trouble with his wife and when he stepped over to Almscliffe Crags from here, his giant wife – who is never named – dropped a small bundle of stones she was carrying in her apron. Harry Speight (1900) tells us of a variation of the tale,
“which tradition says was let fall by the aforementioned giant Rumbalds, while hastening to build a bridge over the Wharfe.”
Variations on this story have said it was the devil who made the site, but this is a denigrated christian variant on the earlier, and probably healthier, creation tale. Similar tales are told of the Great Skirtful of Stones, 500 yards south.
The cluster of portable small stones with single cup-marks on them relates to traditions found in other cultures in the world where, usually, women would carry such items in their aprons and deposit them at or on the tomb, in honour of the ancestor or spirit known to be resident at the sacred site. The folklore found at the Little Skirtful (and Great Skirtful too) of Rombald’s wife dropping the rocks here and forming the giant tomb, probably derive from variants of this same honorary practice.
References:
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Chieveley 2001.
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAA 2003.
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
From Dollar, take the steep road up to Castle Campbell (ask a local if you get lost). When you’ve got into the building and paid your fiver, walk straight forward as if you’re heading to the front gardens, but stay within the castle by walking left on the inner-front section of the building, all the way along to the dark room in the far corner at the end of the path. Just before you walk into the end room, look at the ground rock beneath your feet.
Archaeology & History
My first and only visit to the superb half-restored ruins of Castle Campbell was in the company of the author Marion Woolley. It was a damn good day and the castle here is really worth checking out! But as Marion and I wandered the grounds and internal remains, my eyes caught sight of what looked like a cluster of cup-markings, never previously recorded, on a section of earthfast rock over which a section of the Castle had been built.
A distinct arc of at least four cup-marks was accompanied with outlying single cups on either side of it. Beneath the gravel it seemed that more were waiting to be be unearthed—but we left them alone. As you can see in the photo here, the cup-marks seem typical of those we find in their thousands across northern Britain. However, the rock hereby is volcanic and conglomerate and may be the result of such natural processes. I’m truly not sure. A local archaeologist in Stirling thought the carving looked authentic – but we need to return here and brush off the rest of the gravel to see in greater detail the extent of the cups. There seemed to be more of them hiding at the edges.
If anyone finds out more about this, or gets some better photos, or ascertains this as a simple geophysical artifact, please lemme know.
From Killin heading out along the northern Loch Tay road, turn left just past the Bridge of Lochay hotel and go right to the very end of Glen Lochay, just past Kenknock. From here you’ve gotta keep walking along the glen’s dirt-track, and when you go through the third gate along (about a mile), another 100 yards on, keep your eyes peeled for a reasonably large boulder on the left of the track. This is your marker to go up on the right-hand side of the track, where the large stone is about 20 yards up the slope.
Archaeology & History
Three cup-marks & their lichen
Not far from a prehistoric hut circle relocated by archaeologist Dugald MacInnes I found this, a previously unrecorded cup-marked stone, when I was ambling about around the top of this beautiful valley last week. It’s only a simple cup-marked stone with two very distinct cups and a probable third in the middle of the well-defined ones. A covering of aged lichen was living on the carved rock and it seemed that there may have been other cups beneath the lichen — but I’ve got a real love of these old plants and wasn’t about to tear them from their homely stone.
There are some other little-known unrecorded human remains all along the slopes above here, which I’ll have a look at when next up this Valley of the Black Goddess…
From the bus station in town, walk across the road and to your right, as if you’re heading into the town centre. Barely 100 yards on where you turn left, you’ll see the Blue Stane Hotel across the road right in front of you. The stone in question sits in a small forecourt on the other side of the metal fence (as the plaque describing the stone tells).
Archaeology & History
Although the Blue Stane is well known to local people in the ancient coastal town of St. Andrews, outside of the area little seems to be known of the place. Even the Royal Commission (1933) report for Fife didn’t include the stone in its survey – and the site is east enough to miss it if you walk past too quickly and don’t have an eye for all things megalithic! When Paul Hornby and I came here, it was pretty easy to find. It helps with there being a small plaque in front of the aptly-named hotel, giving a small history of the stone.
The plaque that tells the taleThe Blue Stane
Standing—or rather, resting—in front of the Blue Stane Hotel, the stone has obviously seen better days. Cut in half from its original size, the small upright block certainly has a very blue haze to it and was probably a prehistoric memorial stone, perhaps attached to a long forgotten tomb somewhere close by. Nowadays the little fella is only 2 feet high … and is somewhat reminiscent of a petrified Tyrion Lannister: proudly assertive despite his shortcomings! And long may he reign…
Folklore
The historian and folkorist, A. Lindsay Mitchell (1992) told that the stone here was “more of a reddish sandstone colour”, which passed me by, as I’m brilliantly colourblind! But the fine lady also gave us one of the little known creation myths of the stone, saying:
“Legend has it that an angry giant threw this substantial block of whinstone at the missionary, St. Rule, who had usurped the giant’s influence. However, legend also records that the giant was not one of life’s bolder characters. He made sure that he remained far enough away frm this upstart, St. Rule, and threw the stone from the safe vantage point of Blebo Craigs, about 5 miles away.”
In Robertson’s (1973) fine work on the history of St. Andrews, he tells how the Blue Stane,
“comes down in the annals as having been a stone altar of pagan times. It was used for long as a meeting or trysting place, and was regarded with superstitious awe by passers-by. Men would give it placatory pat and women a cautious curtsey in the way-going. It is said that the pikemen of St. Andrews touched it assurance before departing in 1314 for (the battle of) Bannockburn.”
References:
Mitchell, A. Lindsay, Hidden Scotland, Lochar: Moffat 1992.
Robertson, James K., About St. Andrews – and About, J. & G. Innes: St Andrews 1973.
Acknowledgments: Huge thanks to Paul Hornby for use of his photos for this site-profile.
This once important healing stone that was moved a short distance (from grid reference SN 1775 1875 to SN 1770 1874 according to officials) to its present spot, around 1925, whilst having a long history according to the folk traditions of Carmarthenshire, was previously questioned as an authentic site by none other than Prof John Rhys (1875), following his visit to the site in the 1870s. Although Rhys seemed an isolated voice, some modern archaeologists have also questioned its veracity. It’s difficult to say precisely what the original nature of the stone may have been, but it was certainly accommodated in medieval times as a healing stone and used in conjunction with a pagan well – which was of course, accommodated by the Church. If the stone itself had a megalithic pedigree, as some have believed, we know not what it may have been…
As Janet & Colin Bord (2006) wrote, the stone “still survives, but to the casual observer it looks like any other abandoned block of stone,” sitting innocuously within the ring of trees surrounding the church. An early account of the stone was written by E.L. Barnwell (1872), who told:
“The present church of Llangan in Carmarthenshire is a wretched structure, built in 1820, and is about to be removed, as the population has long since migrated to some distance from it, and in a few years even the memory of Canna’s church having once existed here may cease. There is, however, a relic still left, which we trust will not be overlooked by the local authorities, as indeed it seems to have been hitherto ; for no notice occurs of it in the account of the parish in Lewis’s Topographical Dictionary or any other work. This relic is a rude stone, forming a kind of chair, lying in a field adjoining the churchyard, and about thirty or forty yards from it. When it was removed to its present position is unknown. There was also a well below the church called Ffynnon Canna; and there is still a small brook available, if required, for following the rules prescribed to those who wish to avail themselves of the curative powers of the saint’s chair. It appears that the principal maladies which are thus supposed to be cured are ague and intestinal complaints. The prescribed practice was as follows. The patient first threw some pins into the well, a common practice in many other parts of Wales, where wells are still thought to be invested with certain powers. Then he drank a fixed quantity of the water, and sometimes bathed in the well, for the bath was not always resorted to. The third step was to sit down in the chair for a certain length of time; and if the patient could manage to sleep under these circumstances, the curative effects of the operation were considerably increased. This process was continued for some days, even for a fortnight or longer. A man aged seventy-eight, still living near the spot, remembers the well and hundreds of pins in it, as well as patients undergoing the treatment; but, about thirty or thirty- five years ago, the tenant carried off the soil between the well and the watercourse, so as to make the spring level with the well, which soon after partly disappeared, and from that time the medical reputation of the saint and her chair has gradually faded away, and will, in the course of a generation or two, be altogether forgotten.”
Folklore
In Wirt Sykes (1880) classic text, he told us that the field where the original Canna’s Chair may have been, possessed fairy-lore that we find at other sites, usually ascribed as prehistoric. He wrote:
“In the middle of this parish there is a field called Parc y Fonwent, or the churchyard field, where, according to local tradition, the church was to have been originally built; but the stones brought to the spot during the day were at night removed by invisible hands to the site of the present church. Watchers in the dark heard the goblins engaged in this work and pronouncing in clear and correct Welsh these words, “Llangan, dyma’r fan,” which means, “Llangan, here is the spot.””
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, The Monumental History of the Early British Church, SPCK: London 1889.
Baring-Gould, S. & Fisher, John, Lives of the British Saints – volume 2, London 1907.
Up above the roadside leading down the gorgeous Craobh Haven road, we not only find remains of a previously unrecorded standing stone, but we see this little-known overgrown fort that has been described as a “galleried dun” by the Royal Commission (1988) lads. Known in folk tradition as the “castle of the black dogs” and an important place in the great legends of the Finns, in archaeological terms the Royal Commission described the site as:
“Oval in plan, the dun measures about 13m by 10m within a wall which varies from 3m to 4m in thickness. Considerable stretches of the outer face survive and on the N it rises to a height of 1.7m in ten rough courses; the inner face is less well preserved, but a long stretch is visible on the NW. There are traces of a gallery within the thickness of the wall on the NW; it was entered through a narrow passage, the S-side wall of which it stands to a height of 0.4m in three courses. A second break in the line of the inner face, 2.5m to the NE, is either another entrance to the gallery or the entrance to a second chamber. Depressions in the thickness of the wall on the S may indicate the presence of yet another intramural feature. The entrance to the dun lies on the WSW; it measures about 1m in width at the outer end, 1.8m at the inner end, and is checked for a door 1m from the exterior. On the NE there is a short stretch of facing at right-angles to the line of the wall, and this may be a straight-joint similar to that at Castle Dounie…or one side of a postern gate. In the interior there are the remains of at least two animal-pens and a modern rectilinear cairn. There is no trace of the midden-deposit noted by Campbell & Sandemann to the W of the dun, and the cairns and stretches of field-walling on the N flank of the ridge are of relatively recent date.”
Folklore
Close to a little-known cailleach site, this ruined fortress was one of the many places which the illustrious historian and folklorist Archibald Campbell told about in his awesome series of Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition (1889). The tale of the fort was known to local people as “The Fight between Bran and Foir and is as follows:
“The black dog, Foir, was the brother of Bran, the far-famed hound of Fionn. Foir was taken early from his dam, and was afterwards nurtured by a band of fair women, who acted as his nurses. He grew up into a handsome hound, which had no equal, in the chase or in fight, in the distant North. His owner, Eubhan Oisein, the black-haired, red-cheeked, fair-skinned young Prince of Innis Torc (Orkney ?) was proud, as well he might be, of his unrivalled hound. Having no further victories to win in the North, his master determined to try him against the strongest dogs in the packs of the Feinne.
“He left home, descended by Lochawe, and entered Craignish through Glen Doan. Before his arrival, the Fienne, after spending the day in the chase, encamped for the night in the upper end of Craignish. Next day Fionn arose before sunrise, and saw a young man, wrapped in a red mantle and leading a black dog, approaching towards him at a rapid pace. The stranger soon drew near, and at once declared his object in coming. He wanted a dog-fight, and so impatient was he to have it, and so restless by reason of his impatience, that he suffered not his shadow to dwell a moment on one spot.
“Fifty of the best hounds of the Feinne were slipped at last, but the black dog killed them all one by one. A second and then a third fifty were uncoupled, but the strange dog disposed of them as easily as he did of the first.
“Fionn now saw that all the dogs of the Feinne were in serious danger of being annihilated, and therefore he turned round and cast an angry look on his own great dog Bran. In a moment Bran’s hair stood on end, his eyes darted fire, and he leaped the full length of his golden chain in his eagerness for the fight. But something else besides the casting of an angry look was still to be done to rouse the fierce hound’s temper to its highest pitch.
“He was placed nose to nose with his rival, and then his golden chain was unclasped. The two hounds, brothers by blood, but now champions on opposite sides, at once closed in deadly fight; but for an adequate description of the struggle between them the reader must consult the bards. See the “Lay of the Black Dog”, in Islay’s Leabhar na Feinne, the McCallum’s Ancient Poetry, etc.
“The contest lasted from morning to evening, and victory remained, almost to the close, uncertain; but in the end Bran vanquished Foir, and, by killing the latter, amply revenged the death of the three fifties. The Feinne buried their own dogs, and the stranger, with a sore heart, laid his black hound in the narrow clay bed.
“This great dog-fight, so celebrated in Gaelic lore, is said to have been fought at Lergychony, in Craignish. It is further said that the place was called Learg-a-choinnimh, or the “Plateau of Meeting”, because it was there the two hounds met in fight. There are, of course, many other places in the Highlands which claim the honour of being the scene of this legendary contest.”
References:
Campbell, Archibald, Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition – volume 1, David Nutt: London 1889.
Royal Commission on the Ancient & Historical Monuments of Scotland, Argyll – Volume 6: Mid-Argyll and Cowal, HMSO: Edinburgh 1988.
Less than 100 yards up the road from the Co-op in Killin, take the footpath on the same side of the road into the park at the back of the buildings. Keep following the footpath round the back of the buildings and you’ll see the stone in front of you soon enough.
Archaeology & History
Another curious site in this quite beautiful mountainous arena. Thought to have originally stood by the rounded fairy knoll a bit further up the hill, no one knows for sure when the stone was moved to its present position—but locals will tell you how the curious knob-end atop of the stone was also a later addition to the fallen original, when it was resurrected in the latter half of the 19th century. C.G. Cash (1912) also found the fairy mound and its companions on the slope above to be of interesting, wondering, as I have, that “they might have been burial mounds.” The local historian William Gillies (1938) said of the stone:
“Both the Old and New Statistical Accounts of the parish of Killin make reference to a site near the village that had been pointed out from time immemorial as the burial place of Fingal, the hero of Celtic folk stories. At this point, which is in the middle of a field immediately behind the schoolhouse, there is a standing stone 2 feet 8 inches high and 5 feet in girth. The stone had fallen, but in 1889 it was re-erected by Mr Malcolm Fergusson, a patriotic native of Breadalbane. Without any reference to the original arrangement, a smaller stone was fixed on the top, and others were placed near it. The lands in the vicinity of Fingal’s Stone used to be called Stix. The name suggests that here, as at Stix between Kenmore and Aberfeldy, there were a number of standing stones, of which this one alone remains.”
And it certainly smells that way… Yet no further monoliths have been found hereby or on the slopes above.
Folklore
Reputed to be a stone that marks the grave of the hero-figure, Fionn. Local historian Duncan Fraser (1973) told that:
“Killin is steeped in history and one of its memorials of the past is a standing stone in a field behind the school, that is said to mark the spot where the mighty Fionn lies buried. He is believed to have died about the end of the Iron Age, in 283 AD.”
Gazing N, to the Cailleach
William Gillies (1938) also reported how tradition said that an early church and graveyard was once to be found at the original site of Fingal’s Stone. Legends of Finn, his magick and his encounters with both faerie and men are found all over the landscape in this neck o’ the woods….
References:
Cash, C.G., “Archaeological Gleanings from Killin,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, volume 46, 1911-12.
Fraser, Duncan, Highland Perthshire, Standard Press: Montrose 1973.
Gillies, William A., In Famed Breadalbane, Munro Press: Perth 1938.
Wheater, Hilary, Killin to Glencoe, Appin Publications: Aberfeldy 1982.
