Jock Brocas On Spiritual Life: legends

Showing posts with label legends. Show all posts

Friday, 3 July 2026

Wayland's Smithy - Where Excalibur was Forged, Apparently

England's Wayland's Smithy is a place of great mythic meaning, a tangible link to times of gods, elves, evil kings, and Arthurian legends. The atmospheric, eerie, early-Neolithic, chambered stone long barrow can be found close to the village of Ashbury in England’s leafy Oxfordshire.

Wayland’s Smithy is approximately 185 feet (56.4 metres) long by 43 feet (13 metres) wide, and was built in two distinct phases – well before the mythic Wayland apparently resided there. The ruin resonates with three periods of time: pre-recorded history, Anglo-Saxon England, and the Middle Ages.

The entrance to Wayland's Smithy by Steve Daniels, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The first Wayland’s Smithy was a mortuary structure of stone and wood. A narrow wooden box lay on a pavement of sarsen stone slabs, in which folk were buried. The remains of 14 people – 11 men, two women and a child – were found when it was excavated in 1963. The first burials were probably placed there in 3590–3555 BC, and the last in 3580–3550 BC. Used for no more than 15 years, less than a single generation, or maybe an even shorter period, perhaps just a year, some have speculated.

A second, larger barrow (now known as Wayland’s Smithy II), with a monumental stone facing, was built over the top between about 3460 and 3400 BC, absorbing the older mound altogether. This barrow is thought to have remained in use for burials for less than 100 years. The second Wayland’s Smithy II was a very late construction compared to other long barrows, built in the style of older monuments such as the West Kennet Long Barrow two centuries earlier. Did the builders feel the need to create a sense of history, claiming an ancestral connection to the area?

Legend of ‘the invisible smith’

In the Dark Ages, Wayland’s Smithy (once known as Wayland Smith’s cave), was first mentioned by either name in an early medieval land deed (908AD) from Compton Beauchamp, documented in a charter from King Eadred in 955 AD.

An old tale says if a traveller’s horse lost a shoe on the road, he should bring the horse to the barrow and leave it overnight with a coin. When he returned the next day, the horse would be shod and the money absent. The legend of ‘the invisible smith’ was well-known by the 18th century, and familiar to both Walter Scott (1821’s Kenilworth) and Rudyard Kipling (Puck of Pook's Hill, 1906) both using the legend and place in their novels.

Reviving the tradition, coins have been left at at the site since at least the 1960s, visitors lodging the coins into cracks in the site's stones. Coins assiduously removed by the wardens of the Smithy are donated to local charities. Folklorist Ceri Houlbrook noted on the leaving of coins it,"contributes to the ritual narrative of a site."

However, the association with the mysterious Wayland the Smith is far, far older...

Norse elf, Völundr, a smith of brilliant, supernatural skill

Weland, as the Anglo-Saxons knew him, was in reality the Norse elf, Völundr, a smith of brilliant, supernatural skill, whose reputation for creating both beautiful weapons and jewellery was known throughout Scandinavia. Greedy King Niduth of Sweden thus desired Völundr as his personal smith, kidnapping and ham-stringing him to prevent escape, forcing the elf into servitude.

Völundr went along with this as a pretence, but then hoodwinked the king’s two young sons into his forge, chopped their little noggins off to make gold goblets from their skulls and glittering jewels from their eyes and gnashers. Akin to Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus and the cooked Gothic brats*, he presented these wonderful gift baubles to the avaricious king, his queen, and their daughter, who were all predictably very happy - the fools.

Although happy to gulp wine from his new goblets, Niduth sent servants out to track down his now-missing lads. Meanwhile, the king’s daughter Princess Beahilda asked crafty Völundr to fix a beautiful-but-too-large ring her loving father had recently gifted her. Recognizing it as the one he had made for his wife the Swan-Princess (presumably slain by Niduth’s minions), Völundr became even more incensed at his cruel treatment by the king.

Völundr, in his rage, drugged and raped the princess, flying from Niduth’s castle on magic wings, taunting the king that his only male heir now was now growing inside Beahilda’s womb – as indeed it was.

After a long, weary flight, Völundr descended to the Berkshire downs, making an new, enchanted abode inside the ancient tomb. From then onwards, the elven smith made many great things there, such as the sword Excalibur, that his chum Merlin asked him to fashion.

The industrious elf also made Durandal - the indestructible sword of Roland (737-778 AD), legendary paladin of Emperor Charlemagne (748-814 AD). Tradition has it that Roland cut a huge gash in the rocks with one blow, forming Roland's Breach in the Pyrenees. Local folklore also claims Durendal still exists, embedded in a cliff wall in Rocamadour, France. But the local tourist office says it is a mere replica. And, in addition, Weyland also created the chain mail shirt worn by the heroic Beowulf.

In late June 2024, the mythical, centuries old Durandal sword mysteriously vanished from the cliff wall in Rocamadour.

Representation of the Durandal sword embedded in a rock wall in Rocamadour, France

user:Patrick Clenet, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Völundr – or Wayland as he became known as to the English (named by the Saxons who settled in the area some four thousand years after Wayland's Smithy was built) - lives there still. And, some say, can be still be heard, busy knocking stuff up at his forge.

But what happened to Princess Beahilda and her child by Völundr?

According to the 13th century Þiðrekssaga, she gave birth to a son called Viðga. Wayland settled a peace agreement with Otvin (supposedly the older son of Niduth, which kind of negates the point of the earlier telling) and he then married Beahhilda/Böðvildr.

The 10th century Anglo-Saxon poem Deor suggests not- such-a-happy ending:

so painful to her heart as her own problem

which she had readily perceived

that she was pregnant; nor could she ever

foresee without fear how things would turn out.

That went by, so can this

In yet another version, their son is the hero Witege, who wielded the sword Mimung, forged by his dad. He is mentioned in the fragmentary Anglo-Saxon poem Waldere, together with the blade:

a better sword

except the one that I have also in

its stone-encrusted scabbard laid aside.

I know that Theodoric thought to Widia's self

to send it and much treasure too,

jewels with the blade, many more besides,

gold-geared; he received reward

when Nithhad's kinsman, Widia, Welund's son,

delivered him from durance;

through press of monsters hastened forth.

Great White Horse of Uffington awakens every hundred years

In the distance from the Smithy, Uffington Castle looms; when our distant ancestors built the hillfort, the people laid to rest in the barrow had already been dead for two thousand, eight-hundred years.

Some used to say the great White Horse on the hillside at Uffington is the magnificent Grannie, shod by Wayland for Norse hero, Sigurd, now frozen in chalk. That is until every hundred years, when the White Horse awakes, and thunders across the sky to Wayland’s Smithy, where the smith has to shoe the horse once more. This, apparently, last happened in 1920 at a local tavern.

One evening at the White Horse Inn, at Woolstone in the vale below the Uffington, an unknown man in archaic clothes entered and ordered a pint of the local brew. The sound of a hunting horn then resounded loudly; when it was repeated, the mysterious stranger leapt to his feet and limped hurriedly outside.

The pub’s customers looked up to the hillside - the White Horse was gone, but the next morning it was back, with hooves that appeared to glisten in the sunlight.

The White Horse, The Manger, Dragon Hill, Uffington Castle

The White Horse, The Manger, Dragon Hill & Uffington Castle by Dave Price, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Wayland's Smithy masked night-time shindigs

Disturbingly, in recent years, Wayland's Smithy has been used for masked night-time shindigs by the neo-Nazi Woden's Folk, The Telegraph newspaper reporting that swastikas had been carved into trees at the site.

Something of Hitler’s obsession with the occult and Nordic gods?

Modern Pagans, including Druids and Heathens have also frequented Wayland's Smithy for ritual purposes, attempting to communicate with Spirits of the Earth, long-deceased ancestors and the also Earth Goddess (Danu?) there.

Stephen Arnell’s novel THE GREAT ONE is available on Amazon Kindle now:

The Great One : The Secret Memoirs of Pompey the Great eBook : Arnell, Stephen: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

www.amazon.co.uk

Drawing of a portion of Franks Casket relevant to the tale of “Wayland the Smith”

unknown artisan, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

“The earliest extant record of the Wayland legend is the representation in carved ivory on a casket of Northumbrian workmanship of a date not later than the beginning of the 8th century. The fragments of this casket, known as the Franks casket, came into the possession of a professor at Clermont in Auvergne about the middle of the last century, and was presented to the British Museum by Sir A. W. Franks, who had bought it in Paris for a dealer. One fragment is in Florence. The left-hand compartment of the front of the casket shows Völundr holding with a pair of tongs the skull of one of Níþoþr's children, which he is fashioning into a goblet. The boy's body lies at his feet. Bodvildr and her attendant also appear, and Egill, who in one version made Völundr's wings, is depicted in the act of catching birds.”

Links

Rings of Nibelungs movie trailer: https://youtu.be/o_T0Vji6evg?si=CBy65kR3OMf9-shS

https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/waylands-smithy/history/ https://www.berkshirehistory.com/legends/smithy01.html

Thursday, 18 June 2026

When Supernatural Monsters Like Vampires Stopped to Count

The Forgotten Folklore of Seeds, Salt, and Supernatural Weaknesses

Many supernatural monsters in folklore were believed to possess strange weaknesses. From vampires and witches to troublesome spirits and fairies, stories from around the world describe creatures that could be distracted or delayed by seeds, grains, salt, and other curious objects. These unusual beliefs reveal a lesser-known side of traditional monster folklore.

A Strange Detail That Wouldn't Go Away

The first reference occupied no more than a few lines.

I nearly skipped past it.

A vampire. A handful of seeds. And a suggestion that the creature would stop to count them.

That was all.

I made a note and carried on with whatever I had originally been researching. Folklore collections are full of odd details. Most turn out to be local curiosities that never seem to appear anywhere else.

At least, that is what I assumed.

Then the same idea surfaced in another source.

Not exactly the same story. Not even the same country.

But close enough.

A supernatural being confronted with a collection of small objects and somehow compelled to count them.

I started keeping notes.

Finding examples was not as straightforward as I expected. Many references were brief. Others appeared almost in passing, tucked away among discussions of completely different subjects. Still, the list slowly grew.

The subject of Vampires and their behavior drifted into the background for a while until recently, when I attended a talk on vampire folklore and the sometimes surprising measures communities once used to protect themselves from suspected vampires.

The old note came back to mind.

So did the seeds.

The Supernatural Monster Who Had To Count

Today there is a word for an obsessive need to count.

Arithmomania

The term belongs to modern psychology rather than folklore, but it provides a convenient label for something that appears surprisingly often in traditional stories.

The details vary.

The creatures vary.

Yet the basic idea remains remarkably consistent.

Present certain supernatural beings with enough objects to count and they become distracted from whatever they were doing.

For a modern reader, it feels like an odd weakness.

For the people who preserved these stories, it was often a useful one.

Salt appeared frequently in protective folklore. Beyond its practical value, scattered grains could also become a challenge for troublesome spirits and other supernatural visitors.

supernatural monsters: Vampires — In parts of Eastern Europe, poppy seeds and other grains were sometimes scattered to distract vampires, buying precious time until dawn.

A Handful of Seeds and a Vampire

The clearest examples tend to involve vampires.

Across parts of Eastern Europe, particularly within Slavic traditions, seeds were sometimes associated with protection against the undead. Poppy seeds appear frequently, although millet and other grains can also be found in the stories.

The reasoning was simple.

Scatter enough seeds and the vampire begins counting.

One grain.

Then the next.

Then another.

And another.

It is not how most of us picture a vampire.

Popular culture has given us elegant aristocrats, dark castles, flowing capes, and dramatic confrontations.

Traditional folklore could be much stranger.

The vampire remained dangerous, but it also seemed constrained by peculiar rules. In some stories, seeds were scattered over graves suspected of harboring the restless dead. In others, they might be thrown behind a fleeing traveler.

The goal was not necessarily victory.

A delay could be enough.

A few minutes might help somebody reach shelter.

A few hours might carry the night toward dawn.

And dawn was often the thing a vampire feared most.

Nets, Knots, and Other Problems

The more examples I found, the more often another object appeared.

Fishing nets.

At first they seem unrelated.

Then the connection becomes obvious.

A net contains countless openings.

According to some traditions, a supernatural intruder confronted by a fishing net would become occupied counting every gap before proceeding.

Similar ideas appear elsewhere.

Knots.
Threads.
Tangled cords.

Sometimes the creature is counting. Sometimes it is untangling. Sometimes it is simply trapped in an endless repetitive task.

The details change.

The principle remains familiar.

Keep the creature busy.

Let time do the rest.

Witches at the Threshold

The same motif appears in traditions concerning witches.

In parts of Italy, sieves and colanders occasionally acquired a protective role. Left near a doorway or entrance, they supposedly forced a witch to stop and count the many holes before entering.

Every hole mattered.
Every hole had to be counted.
By then, the night might be nearly over.

As with much folklore, it is difficult to know how literally such stories were taken. What matters is that the idea survived.

Versions of the belief later appeared in parts of Appalachia after European traditions crossed the Atlantic. Details shifted from place to place, but the central theme remained recognizable.

The witch encounters something that demands counting.

The counting becomes the trap.

According to some traditions, witches could be delayed by objects containing numerous holes, such as sieves or colanders, forcing them to count until sunrise.

Fairies Were Not Always Friendly

The fairies found in older folklore can be surprisingly unpleasant.

Many were blamed for spoiled milk, missing household items, frightened livestock, and various forms of everyday mischief.

People responded accordingly.

In several traditions, grains, flax seeds, or salt could be scattered around places frequented by troublesome spirits. The being would supposedly become occupied counting rather than causing trouble.

One note in particular caught my attention.

It concerned a mischievous spirit from Spain known as the Trasgu.

Descriptions vary from region to region, but the creature is usually portrayed as an energetic household nuisance. It moves objects, creates disorder, and generally makes life difficult for the people sharing its home.

One recurring detail is especially curious.

The Trasgu is often described as having holes in its hands.

As a result, small objects slip through its fingers. Certain tasks become impossible to complete.

Stories frequently place the spirit in situations where this weakness works against it. It is assigned impossible jobs, repetitive tasks, or challenges involving tiny objects that continually escape its grasp.

The result is less a confrontation than an exercise in frustration.

Why Salt Appears Everywhere

At a certain point I began noticing another recurring feature.

Salt.

It turns up repeatedly in folklore.

On thresholds.
Across windowsills.
Around doorways.
Within protective rituals.

That probably should not be surprising.

For most of human history, salt was far more valuable than many of us appreciate today. It preserved food, supported trade networks, and helped communities survive difficult seasons.

People depended on it.

Folklore tends to attach meaning to things that matter.

Salt also appeared to resist corruption. Food preserved with salt lasted longer. Decay slowed. Spoilage could be delayed.

Then there is the counting element.

Unlike a stone or a piece of iron, salt can be scattered into thousands of individual grains.

A protective substance.

A symbolic purifier.

And, according to some traditions, a counting challenge.

All in the same handful.

supernatural monsters — Salt appeared frequently in protective folklore. Beyond its practical value, scattered grains could also become a challenge for troublesome spirits and other supernatural visitors.

More Than Just Superstition

A bag of seeds is a curious thing to carry as protection.

Yet the idea appears often enough that it must have appealed to people for a reason.

The stories may differ, but they all arrive at roughly the same place.

The creature can be delayed.

The night can be bought a little time.

That is what interests me most.

Not whether vampires counted poppy seeds.

Not whether witches paused outside a doorway to count holes in a sieve.

But the way these stories impose rules on something frightening.

The supernatural threat remains dangerous.

Yet it becomes predictable.

A weakness exists.

A loophole can be found.

Sometimes that loophole is nothing more than a handful of seeds dropped onto a dark road.

The Last Grain

I originally assumed the reference was a local oddity.

It turned out not to be.

A vampire distracted by seeds.
A witch counting holes in a sieve.
A troublesome spirit trapped by an impossible task.

The stories are separated by geography, language, and centuries.

Yet somehow they arrive at the same strange conclusion.

Give a monster enough things to count and, for a while at least, it may leave you alone.

Today most people know vampires through novels, movies, and television. They recognize the fangs, the coffins, and the dramatic entrances.

Few remember the seeds.

Yet the seeds remained in the stories long after many other details changed.

That, perhaps, is worth counting.

Wednesday, 3 June 2026

Meet Puck, the Mischievous Sprite of Olde (and maybe current) England

Puck, The Naughty Sprite

As we approach Midsummer’s Eve...

To many, the naughty sprite Puck (aka Robin Goodfellow) is best known from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream (1596) as one of the main fairy characters that populate the play, significantly influencing events with his cheeky pranks such as replacing Nick Bottom's head with that of an ass.

Henry Fuseli, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Older readers may possibly recall Kipling’s novel Puck of Pook's Hill where Puck (“a small, brown... pointy-eared person”), who refers to himself as "the oldest Old Thing in England", recounts various scenes of English history/fantasy to two children from nearby Burwash, in the High Weald of Sussex. Kipling's Puck is extremely critical of the modern image of a fairy: “Can you wonder that the People of the Hills don't care to be confused with that pointy-winged, wand-waving, sugar-and-shake-your-head set of imposters? Butterfly wings, indeed!”

Puck of Pook's Hill (1906) by Rudyard Kipling

‘Pook’s Hill’ is thought to be the hill that can be seen to the south-west from the lawn at Bateman’s, Kipling’s charming rural residence. Its real name is Perch Hill.

Jonathan Whitesell played Robin Goodfellow in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (2020):

Jack Gleeson (Joffrey from Game of Thrones) also essayed Puck in season two of The Sandman on Netflix last year.

Joseph Noel Paton, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

In Amazon’s appalling fantasy series Carnival Row (2019, 2023), the Puck are a race of ‘fae’.

But who was Puck - and was he in any way ‘real’?

Puck associated place-names in England are relatively rare when compared to those commonly said to possess Norse and Saxon stems and originate from Gloucestershire, parts of Sussex, and the South-West, suggesting a possible Celtic origin. Names such as South Gloucestershire’s Pucklechurch ("Puck's Church") and various Puck- and Poke- prefixed woods, hills, and wells survive from early-medieval times to the this very day. Looking further back, Puck has been linked to the Greek God, Pan. In Anna Franklin’s Midsummer: Magical Celebrations of the Summer Solstice (2002) she says, “Robin Goodfellow is sometimes described as having the head of a youth and the body of a goat. Like the god Pan, he has a lusty nature, small horns on his head, and carries musical pipes. It may be that he is the fairy remnant of the ancient horned god or nature spirits, since there originally seems to have been a race of pucks.”

There is also said to be a link between Puck, The Green Man and Robin Hood - all to an extent representing nature in its raw and wilful form. Mike Harding, author of A Little Book of the Green Man (1998), said in a 2010 letter to The Guardian:

Robin Hood and the woodland orgies

Of course there was no Robin Hood. The name is a corruption of Robin of the Wood or Robin in the Hood and refers to Robin Goodfellow/Puck, the spirit of the woods, a pagan nature god who lived on well beyond the Christianisation of this island (Robin is often quoted in witchcraft trials as the name the witches chose for their familiars). He was no "tricksy spirit" but a powerful green god – perhaps seen in one aspect in the images of the Green Man that adorn so many of our great medieval churches and cathedrals. Mayday (a movable feast dependent upon the first blossoming of the hawthorn) was the signal for all and sundry to hie them away to the woods for a mass orgy. Harsh winters and poor diet meant low fertility, so the best way to ensure a good stock of babies was for women to have as many sexual partners as possible.

Any children born of the woodland orgies that went under the name of the Robin Hood games became known as Robson, Robinson or Hudson (Robert Graves – The White Goddess). Men in tights might work very well for the film-makers and the tourist boards – green gods that encouraged fecund fornication probably wouldn't figure highly in the naming of airports. And Maid Marian? Mary the Virgin Mother, the maid, consort of the Green Man perhaps. Morris dancers? Well that phallic symbol the maypole was brought out of the woods accompanied by a gang of dancers – Morris men. (Mary's men?) Until Cromwell came along and did away with maypoles and bonking in the bower, England was a much more ribald and perhaps even merry place. Perhaps the Tories who want a Big Society and a return to merry England could revive the maypole and spontaneous and widespread woodland nookie – bit late to put it in the manifesto though.

Despite the comparative scarcity, at least 50 places in England feature the word "Puck," including:

Puckrup, Gloucestershire - the hamlet derives its name from Old English, meaning a "goblin-haunted farmstead". In local folklore, the locality is heavily associated with Puck (or Puca)

Puckaster Cove, Isle of Wight - mentioned frequently in local folklore regarding ‘fairy dances’.

Puckstye & Pockford, Surrey - relating to nearby fields and a centuries-old goblin/sprite-haunted pathway

Puckham Woods, Gloucestershire - associated with medieval witchcraft

Puckshipton, Wiltshire - strongly associated with sightings of goblins etc

According to Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (1898): Puck/Robin Goodfellow is both a "drudging fiend", and merry domestic fairy, famous for mischievous pranks and practical jokes. During late evenings Puck will sometimes perform small services for the family over which he ‘presides’. The Scots call this kind of domestic spirit a brownie; the Germans, Kobold or Knecht Ruprecht. Scandinavians called it Nissë God-dreng.

According to his mood, Puck would undertake minor housework, some fine needlework or butter-churning. He would assist housewives with their chores, in expectation of an offering of some fresh crusty white bread and creamy milk. If this were neglected, he would steal that which he believed was owed and enact other petty acts of retribution upon the householders.

After the Protestant Reformation, Puck became the subject of negative texts written by Protestant proselytisers, along with, of course, other supernatural entities. Edmond Bicknoll claimed he was born from the ‘fruit of infidelity’ and was a conspirator of the devil, whilst Reginald Scot referred to Puck as the ‘great and ancient bullbeggar’ and Edward Dering blamed the sprite for the ‘idle superstitions’ of medieval religion.

Contrary to the attacks from Protestant authorities, the belief in Robin Goodfellow and his fairy companions remained significant in early modern popular life, particularly in the realm of household. Indeed, in Bedfordshire, where I currently abide, local rustic families supposedly still give offerings and venerate the ‘Little Folk/Hobs/Lubber Fiends’ who will minister to their domiciliary needs, if appropriately placated.

The fear Puck could engenderer also led to other customs which were designed to prevent his punishments from occurring. For example, people would often leave out pails of water for the creatures to wash themselves. In 1731, George Waldron argued that this belief was still important, saying “a person would be thought impudently profane” to go to bed “without having first set a tub, or pail full of clean fresh cool water”, in order for “these guests to bathe themselves in”.

Which is nice. Maybe this accounts for the pails of water left by cottages in my locality; unless of course it’s meant for the squirrels and birds during the current heat wave.

Puck was portrayed as a cocky trickster who could also shape-shift to toy with the people he met, stating, “sometimes I meet them like a man, sometimes an oxe, sometimes a hound, and to a horse I turn me can.” His jolly japes ranged from ruining dinner parties by annoying guests, spooking people in their sleep and when in the mood, swapping human children for hideous elf-changelings.

Joshua Reynolds, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Puck, as Robin Goodfellow, even appears in an 1856 speech by Karl Marx: "In the signs that bewilder the middle class, the aristocracy and the poor profits of regression, we recognize our brave friend Robin Goodfellow, the old mole that can work the earth so fast, that worthy pioneer – the Revolution."

In 1952, a woman named Mrs. C. Woods reported encountering a 3-foot-tall "elf" or sprite whilst yomping on Dartmoor. Apparently she initially mistook the peculiar little figure for an animal, but realized it was a "tiny man in brown" wearing a smock when she approached closer.

The Red Sprite, a form of upper-atmospheric lightning, is sometimes referred to as "Puck", a reference to mischievous nature spirits, inspiring the phenomenon's name. Whilst extremely rare, Red Sprites have been photographed and witnessed in the night skies of England during severe thunderstorms.

The Hillfort of Sussex kings on Midsummer's Eve

SOURCES

May Day’s Festival of Beltane — A Sacred Ritual of Nudity & Fun: https://bearblend.com/smoke-signals/happy-may-day/

Marx’s speech at anniversary of the People’s Paper: https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1856/04/14.htm

Pooks Hill/Perch Hill: https://theweald.org/P5.asp?PId=PSx.Br

Does OE Puca Have an Irish Origin? https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00393274.2017.1314773

Bedfordshire Folklore: https://britishfolklore.com/bedfordshire/

Lob Lie-By-The-Fire; Or, The Luck of Lingborough: https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/ewing/lob/lob-01.html

The Hart Hall Hob: https://www.fairyist.com/fairy-tales/the-hart-hall-hob/

Robin Goodfellow: https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Robin-Goodfellow/

Houseproud faeries? https://britishfairies.wordpress.com/2022/12/18/houseproud-faeries/

Piskies, Pucks and other strange goings on: https://www.toadhallcottages.co.uk/blog/piskies-pucks-and-other-strange-goings-on-part-1/

Puckwudgie and European influence: https://britishfairies.wordpress.com/tag/fairy-arrow/

Wizards, Fairies and Elves: Where to Find Them Now: https://www.fairylandtrust.org/wizards-fairies-and-elves-where-to-find-them-now-part-3/

The Moorland Haunts of the Pixies:https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/tdp/tdp02.htm

Fear of Little Men: https://spectator.com/article/fear-of-little-men/

Gnomes Without Frontiers: https://britishfairies.wordpress.com/2024/10/06/gnomes-without-frontiers-puck-the-pwcca/

Robin Goodfellow: His Mad Pranks and Merry Jests: https://talesofbritainandireland.com/episode-25-robin-goodfellow-his-mad-pranks-and-merry-jests/

Rare atmospheric phenomenon over Armagh: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-23504254

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Friday, 29 May 2026

Legends of Swords & Stones

Roland and Durendal

In December 2025 I returned once again to Rome, where I revisited many of the ancient sites I so enjoy, and, as ever, searched for fresh places and things I had yet to see in over 30 years of journeying to the Eternal City, including the Horrea Piperataria, Horti Sallustiani, Museo Ninfeo, Centrale Montemartini, Sessorian Palace and Museo delle Mura.

Only 5 minutes from the apartment where I stay, the Vicolo della Spada d'Orlando (Alley of the Sword of Roland), where, as the name suggests, lies a curious embedded, deeply gashed stone long associated with Charlemagne's heroic knight Roland.

The stone itself (and some scant remains opposite) is a diminished base of a cipollino marble column, part of a temple built in AD 119 and dedicated to the Emperor Hadrian’s mother-in-law Matidia.

Two legends are associated with the rock, both featuring Roland and his legendary sword Durendal. Durendal was the sharpest sword on Earth, capable of cutting through giant boulders with a single stroke and unbreakable, as it was chock-full of relics: a tooth from Jesus’ wingman Saint Peter, blood from Saint Basil, a snippet of the Virgin Mary’s robe and a single hair from Saint Denis.

Some say the weapon was forged by Anglo-Saxon deity Wayland; others claim the Emperor Charlemagne had received it directly from an angel and then gave it to stalwart Roland.

As part of the rear guard of Charlemagne’s army, Roland was caught in a Basworsque (not Saracen/Moorish) ambush at Roncesvalles in passes of the Pyrenees in northern Spain. Roland slaughtered thousands with his combat skills and (more importantly) magic sword. But outnumbered and overrun, Roland decided to destroy Durendal to keep it from the Basque hordes. He struck an insanely powerful blow against a solid marble column that for some reason was nearby. But, you guessed it, the blade did not shatter, it cut deeply into the column.

Roland would die at Roncesvalles from blowing his battle horn Oliphant, calling to Charlemagne’s forces that they avenge him. Supposedly, he blew so hard, his head literally exploded and his brains spewed out.

With deadly travail, in stress and pain, Count Roland sounded the mighty strain, Forth from his mouth the bright blood sprang, And his temples burst for the very pang

But somehow, some way, the piece of marble column with the cut in it made its way to a Roman back street.

Ted Moravec, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Tradition also has it that Roland's Breach in the Pyrenees was created when he attempted to break Durendal and cut a massive gash in the mountainside with one terrific blow; a similar such tale is used to explain gap in the peak of Puig Campana in the Province of Alicante, Spain.

La chanson de Roland (1978): Klaus Kinski as Roland

The second version of the tale is far simpler. Before the Spanish campaign, Roland was in Rome and beset by robbers/assassins. Defending himself, he slashed out in all directions, inadvertently splitting part of a nearby column. Alternatively, after Roncesvalles, Charlemagne, to prevent Durendal from falling into enemy hands, took it to Rome where he attempted to break it against the column.

In yet another version, Roland passed through the alley where he was approached by a beautiful courtesan. She attempted to seduce him, but the virtuous Roland saw she was in fact possessed by Satan and, unsheathing his sword, fashioned the hilt into a cross, in an attempt to drive the evil spirit from the woman.

Thus from the poor woman emerged the Devil whom the paladin tried to slay with Durendal, but his attempt was naturally in vain. The Horned One vanished in his customary puff of sulphurous smoke, and Durendal lodged itself temporarily in the rock, causing the crack that can be seen to this very day.

The column:

Popular theory about the fate of Roland’s blade

The more popular explanation for what happened to Roland’s blade (the “French Excalibur”), the paladin hurled his sword away with superhuman strength (boosted by the Archangel Michael) as the battle went badly at Roncevaux, the sword finally coming to rest hundred of miles away in the French village of Rocamadour (Lot).

There the mystic weapon was supposedly deposited in the chapel of Mary, but later stolen by Henry the Young King in 1183. All successive replicas have been stolen; most recently the sheet metal sword which was embedded in a cliff wall’s cleft and secured with a chain, pinched in June 2024. There has been some form of Durendal at Rocamadour for 1,300 years, according to the locals.

© Traumrune / Wikimedia Commons

The London Stone

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_London_Stone.jpg

I’ve visited the London Stone on a fair few times, from when it was a neglected part of a Cannon Street sporting goods store, to its more recent, smartened up home at the same address. The name "London Stone" was first recorded around the year 1100; the date and first purpose of the stone, although could be of Roman origin - a milestone or similar. Claims that it was an object of pre-Roman worship/human sacrifice or has particular occult importance are unsubstantiated.

One frequently told story is that the Stone is in fact the one which Excalibur was famously plunged, to be withdrawn by the young Arthur.

The ‘Real’ Sword in the Stone?

Galgano Guidotti (1148–1181 AD) was a Catholic saint from Tuscany born in Chiusdino, in Siena, Italy.

The son of a local lord, Galgano became a knight, living a licentious life before his famed conversion. Whilst on the road near Siena, his horse threw him into the dust; an ‘invisible’ angel lifted him to his feet and led him to the rugged Monte Siepi. In a vision, the chastened knight saw a round chapel on the hill with Jesus, Mary and their disciples gathered there.

Jesus was all right but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It's them twisting it that ruins it for me.” John Lennon

The angel enjoined the lad to repent his many sins, but Galgano protested that he could no more change his wicked ways than split a rock with a sword. To prove his point, he thrust his blade at the rocky ground, but the sword slid like a knife in butter through the living rock, where it remains lodged to this very day.

Galgano settled on the hill as a hermit, like the later St Francis (1181-1226 AD) befriending wild animals, with his lupine pals ripping apart and eating an evil monk sent by Satan himself to kill him. He died in 1181 aged 33 years. Canonization and veneration swiftly followed. In 1184, a circular chapel was built over his tomb; many pilgrims soon visited and miracles were spoken of.

The Sword in the Stone relic can be seen at the Rotonda at Montesiepi, near the ruins of the Abbey of San Galgano. Analysis of the sword’s metal handle conducted in 2001 by Luigi Garlaschelli confirmed that the "composition of the metal and the style are compatible with the era of the legend". Scanning confirmed that the upper part of the sword and the invisible lower one are genuine and belong to the same artifact.

Stephen Arnell’s novel THE GREAT ONE is available on Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Great-One-Secret-Memoirs-Pompey-ebook/dp/B0BNLTB2G7

Sample:

Wednesday, 20 May 2026

Satan Summoned by Stone? England’s Ancient Demonic Rocks, Lore & Legends

The Devil, Probably?

In England, there’s a plethora of ancient stones associated with the Devil - and in many cases with related lore in how to summon him in. Here are just a few of them.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys & Girls, Angels & Imps, I give you... England’s Satanic Stones. This one, a mere 5 minutes by motor vehicle from my abode.

The Devil’s Boot (Soulbury, Buckinghamshire)

Not a summoning place, as such, but worth a mention; a glacial chunk of 300-million-year-old carboniferous limestone deposited from the Peak District some 450,000 years ago. Oliver Cromwell has speechified from it, tanks during WWII tried to dislodge it and boy racers have pranged it, but the Boot abides on its hillside vigil. Come the stroke of midnight and the chime of the bells at Soulbury’s All Saints Church every evening though, the object rolls down the hill to face The Boot Inn public house - and presumably then swiftly returns to its original site. Therein lies a tale. The ‘Boot’ is in fact the Devil’s Hoof, sheared off by irate Soulbury villagers after Old Nick tried to trash the church.

The Blood Stone (Wiltshire)

Near the ancient battlefield of Edington (Alfred the Great vs Guthrum’s Danes, 878 AD) in Wiltshire is The Blood Stone. This from The Witchery Arts:

“One of the smallest and most overlooked of these sites is the Blood Stone, situated in the center of a sheep infested valley between Westbury White Horse Hill and Picket Hill in Bratton, on the edge of Salisbury Plain.

The stone itself is about three feet across, two feet high and a dark, scabby red in colour. It’s said that the stone was one of those used by King Alfred’s men as a block upon which to behead Danish prisoners of war after the Battle of Ethendune of AD 878, which is how it is supposed to have got its particular shade. There are even paired indentations in the surface of the rock, which look uncannily like the marks left by a pair of front teeth.

There is archeological evidence to suggest that it really is an ancient execution site since a large pile of headless skeletons, dated to around that time, were excavated from the nearby watercress beds at the bottom of the valley in the 1970s. The skulls were found a half mile away, buried upside-down, apparently according to the Saxon tradition that if a soul escaped through the top of the head it could be thus trapped into heading straight down into the bowels of the Earth.”

The 'blood stains' are actually Iron Oxide traces. Apparently.

The Devil's Stone (Kent)

The Devil’s Stone is noted for what appears to be a cloven strange footmark indented in it. The Devil, who so annoyed by the sound of Newington-next-Sittingbourne’s church bells, climbed the steeple with a bag over his shoulder, and nicked them.

As the fiend leapt from the tower, he slipped, and his foot hit the stone, the bells rolling out of the bag and into the nearby Libbet Stream. As a result, the well was said to continuously bubble, and bizarrely, the stone is also said to sparkle when hit. Another version of the legend blames the church wardens, who decided to sell the great bell of the church to pay for the repair of the remaining bells. Under the cover of darkness, the bell was drawn up to the roof of the bell tower in order that it could be lowered from outside. The Devil appeared, and seized it. The church wardens, after seeing that Old Nick had gone, attempted to remove the bell with grappling irons and ropes. At first, they had great success at raising the bell to the surface, but the rope broke and down went the bell! Again, they tried and again they failed. In both versions, a local witch arrived and told them that the only way in which the bell could be raised is by drawing it up by four pure white oxen. This was done, and it was almost raised to the surface until a local urchin, who was passing, shouted out at the top of his voice, 'Look at the black spot behind that bull's ear'. The rope instantly broke, and the bell was lost forever!

The Devil’s Stone in Crook (County Durham)

You must run around it seven times anticlockwise at midnight, sometimes with added, much darker rituals.

The stone is an erratic glacial, beginning in the Lake District more than 10,000 years ago during the last Ice Age. A glacier moved it 60 miles east and dropped it on the edge of the Durham market town of Crook. It is now made up of three large lumps of igneous rock after someone blew it up looking for a diamond reputed to be hidden inside.

Chanctonbury Ring (Sussex): Run round this prehistoric ring fort three or seven times backward or naked and the devil will appear and offer a bowl of soup or porridge for your soul. Nice deal.

The Witch's Stone (Westleton, Suffolk)

Place a handkerchief or piece of straw in the grating beside the chancel door and (using the Witch’s Stone) as a base – run around the church three or seven times widdershins (or counter-clockwise) without looking at the grating; once back at the Witch’s Stone, the item in the grating will be gone and the eerie rattling of the Devil’s chains can heard from the church crypt. Cool. I guess.

The Devil's Chair, Avebury (Wiltshire)

See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Legend says that if you run around this megalithic stone at Avebury Henge one hundred times, the Devil will pop up for a chat.

In an original ceremony devised by Philip Shallcrass of the British Druid Order in 1993, pagans assemble and divide into two groups, one the God party and the other the Goddess party. Those with the Goddess party go to the Devil's Chair, where a woman representing the spirit guardian of the site is a vessel for the voice of the Goddess.

Avebury in fiction:

Children of the Stones (1977) - full series

The Devil’s Den (Avebury)

A dolmen burial chamber, part of a Neolithic passage grave on Fyfield Down.

A local tradition says if water was poured into hollows on the capstone, Satan would come in the night and slurp it. Super.

The Devil's Arrows (North Yorkshire)

Two of the Devil's Arrows by Gordon Hatton, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

These millennia-old standing stones in North Yorkshire are the second tallest in the United Kingdom, after the Rudston Monolith.

The common Dark Age belief was that the Devil was shooting or throwing arrows from a neighbouring hill at the Christian settlement of Aldborough nearby, but he fell short of his target. Human sacrifices were supposedly conducted on the top of the stones, where the bodies were left to rot.

The Devil's Ring and Finger (Staffordshire)

Some posit this Neolithic pile as a Druid’s altar within a sacred grove, the circular Ring Stone an altar piece for the Sun God, who represented the power of life, of good, of increase, and the Finger representing the Serpent God, which represented evil and death - in other words Satan, to later inhabitants. The Ring Stone’s porthole, is large enough for a person to climb through, or be passed through, to increase fertility. Or is it a portal to another dimension? Faerie perhaps?

The Devil's Quoits (Oxfordshire)

The Devil's Quoits are located in Oxfordshire, Neolithic henge and stone circle near the village of Stanton Harcourt. Folklore says the Devil threw large stones from Wytham Hill, some 8 miles away, during a game of quoits with a beggar for his soul. The beggar lost.

In a different version, Satan was actually playing solo on a Sunday and was b*llocked by God for playing games on His Holy Day. Understandably, a frustrated Old Nick threw his huge stones down in a hissy fit at Stanton Harcourt.

Traditionally, the stones were thought to resist being moved; one story tells of a stone moved to make a bridge that would not stay in place. In fact, the henge has been disturbed many times in recent history. The stone circle originally featured 36 stones, some removed during the medieval period (used as building materials); during WWII, the site was levelled for an airfield. More recently, there have been efforts to restore the henge; the remaining stones being re-erected, missing stones replaced with modern blocks, and the earthworks surrounding the circle re-dug between 2002 and 2008. So a tad ersatz then.

The Devil's Stone (Shebbear, Devon)

The stone is rolled over every November 5th to "turn the Devil away" and prevent the next year's crops failing. Also, if the stone is NOT overturned, Satan will the appear. The Shebbear Yeomanry has yet to try leaving the stone unrolled as a test, local parish records show.

The Nine Stones, Winterbourne Abbas (Dorset)

These sarsen stones were erected in the Bronze Age; legend claims they were the Devil, his wife, and his children and cannot be counted; others say they had once been children who were turned to stone as punishment for playing ‘Five-Stones’ on a Sunday. A bit severe.

In 2007, the Dolmen Grove Druids claimed they’ve had to confront individuals hurling abuse at them as they performed their rituals at the Nine Stones.

The Devil’s Toenail (Bedfordshire)

This Neolithic stone (10,000 to 4,500 BC) marks the spot where the Devil joined some local kids who were defying the sabbath by enjoying a cheeky game of leapfrog. Satan merrily participated in their game, then opened a hole in the ground into which they were cast and never seen again.

20 minutes or so from my dwelling.

Roche Rock (Cornwall)

Roche Rock by Chris Gunns, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I’ve been to Cornwall’s chapel of St Michael at Roche Rock, mainly I admit from curiosity to see the location for one of the doomed killer monks attempts on Damien’s life in 1981’s Omen III: The Final Conflict than anything else.

The Chapel in Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981)

Roche Rock features in Cornish myth; the ruined chapel that we see today was built more than 600 years ago in 1409 by the wealthy Tregarrick family. The last resident of Roche Rock is said to have been Sir John Tregarrick who hid himself there for many years after contracting leprosy. His only visitor was his daughter who brought him food and fresh water from a nearby well. 17th century magistrate Jan Tregeagle’s evil spirit was set to roam the wilds of Cornwall pursued by Satan’s demons. Tregeagle sought sanctuary in the chapel’s holy ground, but only managed to get his head stuck in the east window, with his body dangling outside to be welted by the Devil’s eager helpers. On a stormy night you can still hear the howls and tortured screams of cornered Tregeagle on the wind.

In the time of King Arthur, it was said to have been the base of hermit/holy man Ogrin. Ogrin helped the famous star-crossed lovers Tristan and Isolde in their attempted escape from an enraged King Mark, hiding the couple with him on the rock.

Devil's Chimney (Gloucestershire)

The Devil, cheesed off by the many Christian chapels in the area, took to perching on Leckhampton Hill, mocking and hurling rocks at those who attended church on a Sunday. But the treacherous, turncoat rocks rebelled and drove Satan back beneath the ground, preventing him from harassing the pious villagers any further.

The mass of stones then formed a chimney to hell - as can be seen by tendrils of smoke that waft from the structure at night. Visitors still leave a coin among the stones, to protect them from the wrath of the Devil.

The Devil's Lapstone (Durham)

The Devil himself offered to help build Durham Cathedral but with the wicked intention of constructing foundations of such crumbly rock, the building would soon collapse, killing anyone inside. Naughty Satan.

Lucifer would fly up and down the length of the River Dene, collecting stones for the cathedral, but one day, his leather apron snapped and the stone within plummeted to earth. The Devil snatched at it, trying to catch it again and again, leaving deep scratches and Satanic blood in the rock. If you ever see the Devil’s Lapstone, take a close look, as you can still see the rents and blood left by The Horned One in his fury.