Along the main A924 Atholl Road in Pitlochry, head west towards the Perth Road, under the railway bridge and, another 200 yards along, take the right-turn and walk over the river bridge. Once on the other side of the River Tummel, about 150 yards on turn left and walk along the minor road for 400 yards where, just past some houses, a path takes you on the left into the fields. You’ll be able to see a large tree-topped mound in the next field ahead of you. Follow the line of fencing and you’ll reach the site.
Archaeology & History
Dunfallandy, looking N
This is a gorgeous site in a beautiful setting, close to where the River Tummel meets with the River Tay. It has that archetypal fairy mound look to it and, if the folklore is right, the association would seem to be a real one! The old school ley-hunters that follow Alfie Watkin’s original notions of straight tracks would also be intrigued by this notable tomb.
An early description of it by the local writer Hugh Mitchell (1921) told that, around the middle of the 19th century, this large mound of rock and earth, “was surrounded by upright stones, but these were carted away about eighty years ago to repair a breach in the embankment of the River Tummel.” In Mitchell’s (1923) later work on the antiquities of the Pitlochry district he expanded on his earlier notes, pointing out, again, the notable clump of trees on the grassland plain where it lives:
The fairy mound in 1925Top of the mound
“The trees are growing on a Neolithic burial mound,” he wrote, “which is composed of small stones and earth, and is circular, having a height of about 8 feet and a diameter of about 50 feet. It is surrounded by a shallow ditch about 6 feet wide and 18 inches deep and having a raised margin round it. There was a row of standing stones round the mound which were carted away about 80 years ago… This mound has been partially excavated and any graves near the surface have been destroyed, but some of the old people say they remember seeing small stone cists, which appear to have been of the usual Neolithic type. The surrounding ditch is unusual, and in that respect the mound differs from any other in the district.”
When John Dixon (1925) came to describe the site a few years later, he merely echoed what Mitchell had written, although said that the “row of standing stones” Mitchell described was a “circle of standing stones.” Without a modern excavation, we may never know which is the more accurate. The closest it seems we’ve got to archaeologists looking at the site is when the old-school dudes Childe & Graham (1943) came here, but they just told us what we already knew, saying how it,
“is constructed of large rounded stones and earth and measures 60 feet by 48 feet on plan; its sides rise steeply to a flattened top the surface of which, though disturbed, shows no trace of any cist.”
Dunfallandy, looking SW
The cists, of course, had been shifted a century earlier. And when Colin Lidell (1994) included the site in his recent history of Pitlochry, he too could add no more than what the old antiquarians had given us…
It’s not changed much over the last century. The mound has got slightly smaller, in both height and width, and the ditch that surrounded the tomb wasn’t apparent on my recent visit—although the crops were high. My own personal thought is that we’re looking at a Bronze Age tomb, not a neolithic one—but I’d love to be wrong! The older the better in my opinion! It’s worth checking out when you’re in the area. I loved the place!
Folklore
On the east-side of the River Tummel, a few hundred yards from the tomb, there are several place-names of Dalshian, meaning “the flat or field of the peaceful folk, or fairies”, which the local writer Hugh Mitchell (1921) thought also related to the ground on which our tomb resides:
“There seems little doubt,” he wrote, “that this burial mound is the Sithean (Shian) which at one time gave its name to the whole flat.”
Traditions of the sith (fairies) and similar creatures are rampant in this neck o’ the woods.
References:
Childe, V.G. & Graham, Angus, “Some Notable Prehistoric and Medieval Monuments”, in Proceedings Society Antiquaries Scotland, volume 77, 1943.
Dixon, John H., Pitlochry, Past and Present, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1925.
Feacham, Richard, Guide to Prehistoric Scotland, Batsford: London 1977.
Lidell, Colin, Pitlochry — Heritage of a Highland District, Perth & Kinross District Library 1994.
Mitchell, Hugh, “The Picts in Athol”, in Transactions Inverness Scientific Society Field Club, volume 8, 1921.
Mitchell, Hugh, Pitlochry District: Its Topography, Archaeology and History, L. Mackay: Pitlochry 1923.
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks for use of the Ordnance Survey map in this site profile, reproduced with the kind permission of the National Library of Scotland.
This long lost ‘holy well of St Brigit’ (Tobar Bhride) has been mentioned—purely in literary repetition—by such folklore giants as F.M. MacNeill and others, but none of them give any additional information about it than that first mentioned by Alexander Stewart’s (1890) in his fascinating article on magical stones. Indeed, knowledge of this well’s very existence was only preserved thanks to a ritual incantation that was recited to imbue and maintain healing properties of one such magickal stone, known as the Charm Stone of Keppoch. It
“was an oval of rock crystal, about the size of a small egg, fixed in a bird’s claw of silver, and with a silver chain attached, by which it was suspended when about to be dipped.”
It was dipped in water taken from the sacred well of St Brigit, somewhere not far from Keppoch. The incantation made over the stone was in Gaelic, obviously, but the english translation is:
“Let me dip thee in the water,
Thou yellow, beautiful gem of Power!
In water of purest wave,
Which (saint) Bridget didn’t permit to be contaminated.
In the name of the Apostles twelve,
In the name of Mary, virgin of virtues,
And in the name of the high trinity
And all the shining angels,
A blessing on the gem,
A blessing on the water, and
A healing of bodily ailments to each suffering creature.”
On the east side of the river, just a few hundred yards away, could once be found the Fuaran na Ban-Tighearna, or the Well of Her Ladyship. In this sense, the term ‘ladyship’ refers to the “wife of a baronet or knight.” (Dwelly 1918) The idea that it may refer to Bride in Her guise as a ‘lady’ is linguistically improbable here (though not impossible). Also, if this fuaran did have a geomythic relationship with Bride, we would expect to find a Cailleach in the nearby landscape, which we don’t.
Folklore
An interesting piece of folklore that may relate to this well is described by the great Scottish landscape wanderer, Seton Gordon. (1948) Although he makes no mention of a Bride’s Well, there is the tale of a missing bride up Glen Roy, of which Keppoch sits below. “It was in earlier times,” he wrote,
“that the Maid of Keppoch was taken by the fairies in Glen Roy. She was an Irish girl, little more than a child, and had become the wife of MacDonell of Keppoch. But the wedding rejoicings were scarcely over when the bride, wandering into the oak woods which still clothe the lower slopes of Glen Roy, disappeared mysteriously. It was believed that, like the Rev Robert Kirk…she had been spirited away by the fairies. If indeed she was abducted by the Little People they held her closely, for from that day to this no trace has been found of the fair Maid of Keppoch.”
St Bride of course was Irish, like the Maid of Keppoch. And just a mile up Glen Roy from Keppoch House we find the Sron Dubh and Sithean, or Ridge of the Dark Fairy Folk. There are several burns (streams) running either side and below this fairy haunt, but I can find none with Bride’s name. Someone, somewhere, must know where it is…
References:
Gordon, Seton, Highways and Byways in the Central Highlands, MacMillan: London 1948.
Dwelly, Edward, The Illustrated Gaelic English Dictionary – volume 1, Fleet Hants 1918.
Stewart, Alexander, “Notice of a Highland Charm-Stone,” in Proceedings Society Antiquaries, Scotland, volume 24, 1890.
Take to A93 road, north, between Blairgowrie and Braemar, keeping your eyes peeled many miles on, to turn left along the minor road as you approach the tiny Spittal of Glenshee hamlet. Just as you go over the ancient bridge, park up on your left, below the church. Walk round the back of the church and you’ll see a large tree-covered mound. Walk onto its top.
Archaeology & History
Stone marked on 1862 map
This quiet, almost hidden, six-foot tall standing stone on what initially seems to be a large fairy mound or tumulus at the back of the rude church, has been occluded from general view (in my opinion, deliberately) by the construction of the more debased christian edifice right in front of it. But it detracts not from its gentle majesty once you reach its ancient body, atop of the old hill.
The stone is one in a cluster of prehistoric sites in and around this Glen of the Fairy Folk (as its name tells), where the rivers Shee and Beag converge. If the church didn’t obstruct the view, some of the other sites would have been visible from here.
Folklore
The old stone, looking east
Folklore tells that when the christians came into the Glen to build a church—initially a half-mile or so to the east—the little people were much annoyed at the actions of the incomers, as it intruded on one of their sacred rings of stone close by. By night they came out, and every stone that had been laid by the christians in the day was removed. Each day the insensitive christians came and built their church without asking, and each night the little people removed it. Eventually an agreement was made, and the fairies let them build the church next to this standing stone. So goes the tale….
A veritable cluster of stories about Fingal, Ossian, Dermid and Grianne scatter this area, with many of them relating to ancient sites, but I’ve not found one directly relating to this stone.
References:
Miller, T.D., Tales of a Highland Parish, Munro Press: Perth 1929.
Take the A827 road on the north-side of Loch Tay between Killin and Kenmore, and roughly halfway along you’ll find the tiny hamlet of Lawers. Go down into the hamlet itself and, amidst the remains of the old trees where now are houses, nestled on a rise in the land with burns (streams) on either side, remains of the fairy mound of An Sithean still lives…
Folklore
Remnants of the legends of little people are legion in the Scottish mountains. Sadly, many of them died when the English arrived and culled the population in ‘The Clearances’ of the 19th century – none moreso than in the area surrounding Loch Tay. But thankfully, in the latter-half of the 19th century, a local man called James MacDiarmid (1910), took it upon himself to write down many of the old stories told by the remaining locals – as well as narrate those he remembered as a boy, as told by the elders around him. Whilst tales of ‘fairies’ and other such creatures are thought by city-minds to be little other than fantasies, mountain-folk cosmologies differ greatly to those who are disconnected from the natural world. Genius loci abound, and animism is the basic plinth integral to communities in the hills, where the world is much much more real. This is one such tale…
“Not many years ago there lived in the neighbourhood of Killin a man who was in the habit of recounting his wonderful adventures with the white horse of the fairies. When coming home one night from Kenmore market, and just as he was passing Sithean, Lawers, he heard most enchanting music proceeding from the knoll. Unable to resist the temptation, he gradually went nearer and nearer the fairies’ place of abode, till at last he was fairly among them. They received him most kindly, and on parting gave him one of their white horses to carry him home. His steed went through the air at a speed almost equalling that of lightning, and in a few minutes he found himself above a house at Clifton, Tyndrum, some twenty-five miles westward from Lawers. Happening to shout “ho!” when he was right above the chimney, the fairy horse threw him off its back, and down he dropped feet foremost through the wide, old-fashioned chimney, and alighted in the midst of a wedding party, much to their surprise and alarm. He continued in their pleasant company till daylight, when he returned home at his leisure, thanking the fairies for the pleasure they had so unexpectedly given him!”
Usually, tales such as this relate to the existence of prehistoric cairns or tumuli (burial sites), but no such archaeological remains have ever been known to live here. Equally curious is how the man in this tale wasn’t kept in the timeless realms, beloved of faerie-land, where reveries with them would take decades from a man’s life, even though it only felt like one night.
I’ve come across old locals who still speak, not just of the little-folk, but of other hauntings in this beautiful part of Loch Tay. May the land not be cursed by the fools who put their idea of ‘development’ in front of the genius loci here; lest madness and ill-fortune will prevail…
This large cup-marked stone was known by local people as the Clach na Sithean, or the stone of the fairies. Its smooth surface and well-cut grooves was said to be due to the fairies sharpening their knives upon it, and the straight cuts or grooves were tests of the keenness of their blades.
In addition to the fairies having hold over this stone, a brownie creature also roamed between here and the burn of Allt Mor. Although a dutiful creature, he commonly used to scare the women when they returned from the ceilidhs by chasing them and screaming a curious noise at them. But as well as this, he would also enter the local houses and farms after nightfall and, when the local folk were asleep, would clean the supper dishes and put them in their rightful places. But if there was no work to be done once he had entered their homes, he would take the dishes out and place them on the floors where they would be found in the morning by perplexed householders. Then they’d know that the brownie had visited. Sometimes he was a great help to the housewives, other times a nuisance. He became known to local people as Puddlefoot, or Cas an Lubain, but so offended was he by the name when he heard it, that he let out an almighty scream and vanished, never to be seen again.
References:
Kennedy, James, Folklore and Reminiscences of Strathtay and Grandtully, Munro Press: Perth 1927.
To get here, go down the A82 about four-and-a-half miles south of Tarbet (along the Loch Lomond road). Near a burn coming down the hill is an old house, long in ruin, and near the side of this is an old path – more for deer than city-folk. Go up through the wooded hillside for about a half-mile (amble the trek and make it a nice hour’s walk to get into the place). I’d take the stream itself, as you get more into the nature of the place once you get up the slope: there’s more to see, feel and a healthy water supply en route.
Folklore
This is more of a ‘holy loch’ than a holy well — for obvious reasons. Although it’s not much bigger than a large pond, it is little-known, but has long had the tradition of being an abode of the sith, or faerie-folk. There is, of course, a tendency to find prehistoric remains where the sith have their repute, but there seems little on official records nearby.
Tradition tells that the loch was actually formed in ancient times by locals damming the burn for water supply. Another tells the same in order that a mill could be fed with constant water – though no mill can be found. If this latter tradition is true however, the fairy creature here could have been a brownie – though they are generally more a lowland elemental. One of the reasons the place has been named after the little people is that when certain light falls on it, at the right time of day and year, green triangular shapes emerge from the water formed by deposits hidden beneath the surface (hence the original Gaelic name, Lochan Uaine, or the Green Loch).
Local historian Norman Douglas echoed the folktale described many years earlier by the great John Gregorson Campbell (1900), telling that,
“another story is that the local people would deposit their sheeps’ fleeces in the Fairy Loch overnight, wish for them to be dyed a certain colour, and overnight the fairies would carry out their wish.”
References:
Campbell, John G., Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, James MacLehose: Glasgow 1900.
