FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Like A Rolling Stone

Last time on Folklore on Friday, we were exploring the history and legends surrounding the Bulmer Stone of Darlington. And one of the more curious tales about this ancient boulder of granite was found in an old rhyme from the 17th century, a little verse that alleged the stone would rotate when the clock struck twelve. Now it would be easy to dismiss this bizarre legend as mere whimsy; after all traditional verses like this are full of nonsensical things, often seemingly invented to make lines rhyme. However what sounds like sheer poetic fancy to us, often has a real story to tell - for example, numerous nursery rhymes allude to historical events or have forgotten hidden meanings. 

Now while it sounds highly odd that a huge stone should arbitrarily turn itself around at certain times, when one surveys the folklore attached to various notable stones and rocks across the British Isles, one discovers that this is not an isolated incident. For, perhaps surprisingly, there are several other stones that are alleged to behave in the same fashion. Indeed, generally speaking, the belief that ancient stones would move about by themselves appears to be a very common feature in the legends and lore surrounding them. However regarding stones specifically that rotate or revolve, there are several notable other examples. 

On Hallam Moor, which lies on the borders of Derbyshire and Sheffield, is a large blocky rock called the Headstone, but is also known as Stump John and the Cock Crowing Stone. While its huge size and rough rectangular shape may suggest that this is a weather-worn megalith erected by our ancestors, it is in fact a natural feature composed of grit stone. It is often called the Headstone because thanks to fissures and cracks in the rock, from some angles it appears to have a crude face. However its alternate name, the Cock Crowing Stone, is a reference to the local folklore which claims that this huge stone turns itself should it hear a cockerel crow. 

While we now know that the rock is a natural feature, earlier writers did indeed assume it was an ancient monument of some kind. And in turn this led to speculation that perhaps the name came from Druids sacrificing cockerels there, or that it cast a significant shadow at sunrise at certain times of the year, like the famous stones of Stonehenge, with the concept behind that latter theory being that cocks crowing is associated with sunrise. Modern studies suggest both these theories are somewhat fanciful, and unfortunately that leaves us none the wiser as to why a large stone should revolve.

The Headstone of Hallam Moor

Another turning rock once lay in the village of Barrow, Suffolk, with old tales telling of the Highwayman's Stone. And although there appears to be no sign of it now, we do know more of its history. Allegedly there used to a large stone set in the pavement near the village school which supposedly marked the spot where a highwayman was hanged in the late 18th century. Local legend tells of how a Mr Macrow was collecting tithes in 1789 when he was shot at by a highwayman. The villain however missed his target and attempted to make an escape. But while fleeing, his horse lost a shoe, making his tracks very easy to follow. And unfortunately for this would-be Dick Turpin, he was tracked down by the local folks and hanged on the spot. But according to the legend, for reasons never made clear, the stone would turn itself over every New Year's Eve at midnight. 

Now while it seems the stone itself appears to be lost, historians have discovered the tale is based on a real case. The events actually took place in 1783, and the tithe collector was a Mr Macro, who was indeed waylaid by a highwayman. Like in the legend, the criminal's undoing was his steed, although in reality he was tracked down thanks to his horse having a particular design of shoe. The perpetrator, one James Steggles, was indeed hanged for his crime, although the Norfolk Chronicle (1783) reports he was actually given a proper trial and executed in Bury St. Edmunds. (For more details check out the entry on Barrow on the Hidden Suffolk website).  And although the reasons why the commemorative stone should turn itself over remains a mystery, the day it performs this feat may well be linked to the date of the actual crime - for Mr Macro was attacked on 6th of January 1783. Given how the legend has somewhat blurred the details, it would not be surprising that the date of the crime had been shifted a few days to merge with a notable calendar date. 

As to why the stone should flip around on this night of the year, it is possible that this is due to some details of the legend becoming lost. In the actual case of James Steggles, the key evidence against him in the trial was a pair of pistols, one of which had been fired, which were discovered concealed in some bushes by the intrepid victim turned detective, Mr Macro. Given how the historical details have drifted as they have made their way into local legend, it would not be unreasonable to hazard that perhaps the pistols were once said to have been hidden under a stone. And possibly, hence the Highwayman's Stone would turn in a supernatural recreation of the discovery of the evidence. 

However again that is pure speculation, and while it sounds plausible, it is also equally possible that the Highwayman's Stone gained its ability to turn simply because moving on their own is a very common feature of stone lore. And next time, we shall explore some more examples, and see what light they can throw on the matter... 

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Bulmer Stone

When you are doing the garden, you can never dig too far down without your spade hitting a stone, and funnily enough the same is true when you begin excavating the folklore of almost any region in Britain. For sooner or later you will find some legends or lore concerning a local megalith or similar prominent rocky feature of the local landscape. Now often such folklore centres around ancient standing stones or barrows, those mysterious relics left by our ancestors, and so beloved of horror story writers, but there are other stones with equally intriguing tales to tell. And while most of the curious stones that are the focus for local folklore are often in fields outside towns and villages, there are other rocks that enjoy a more, shall we say, urban existence. 

One such stone can be found in the North-Eastern to of Darlington. If you head up out of the modern town centre into Northgate, one of the first historic buildings you'll see is an impressive Victoria edifice that used to be Darlington Technical College. This glorious old building was built in 1897 and designed by noted architect George Gordon Hoskins. However there is one very curious feature to the premises which has often baffled visitors down the years. For just inside the iron railings that surround the frontage, is a large rock, a huge roughly squarish boulder of granite. And a helpful plaque that informs you that this is in fact the Bulmer Stone.

The stone apparently is a piece of Westmoreland shap, and is thought to have been deposited in what would become Darlington's high street by a glacier at the end of the last ice age. Now before the Technical College was built, this portion of Northgate was filled with cottages owned by the railway pioneer Edward Pease, who had his mansion and gardens just a little further down the road. Back then, the Bulmer Stone stood unfenced in the street, and in centuries past, when the area was mainly inhabited by the town's weavers, this piece of granite was called "the Battling Stone" as the weavers would beat their flax upon it. However it got its current name in the early 19th century, thanks to a fellow called Willy Bulmer. This local character became the town's unofficial town crier, for he would get copies of the London newspapers from the stagecoaches travelling up the Great North Road and read the latest news aloud in the street for the benefit of the public. And to best reach an audience and make himself prominent while doing this street news broadcast, Willy would stand upon the boulder in Northgate and hence it became known as the Bulmer Stone. 

The stone holds more secrets from Darlington's history too. In the early 21st century, it was being discussed in the pages of the long running local paper, The Northern Echo -  for several bronze plaques had been discovered that showed George Stephenson's famous steam railway engine, Locomotion No. 1 alongside the Bulmer Stone. Originally it was thought that these plaques must have been produced to mark the opening, or an anniversary of the opening, of the very first public railroad in the world, the Stockton and Darlington Railway. However it was discovered these metallic mementoes actually only dated from 1909. They had been made by one Stephen Bell, who copyrighted this work as a "medal design" in 1911, and they had been sold through a local pawnbroker located at 58 - 61 Northgate named Arthur E Berry. However, what no one seemed to be able to work out was why the Bulmer Stone was pictured beside the famous locomotive.

The actual answer lies in what might be considered industrial folklore. Apparently according to local stories, the pioneering steam inventor George Stephenson walked from Stockton to Darlington to pay a visit to Edward Pease. Pease was at the heart of Darlington's industry and was already planning a rail system to transport coal and other materials, but with the carriages to be pulled by horses. Stephenson however thought that the new steam engines he was developing would be better suited to the job. The two men struck a deal, and not too long after, in 1825, what would become the world's first train system, the Stockton and Darlington Railway, was born. Now as we have noted, Mr Pease lived on Northgate with the Bulmer Stone being more or less on his doorstep. And according to local legend, just before the historic meeting, Stephenson stopped to tie his bootlaces, resting his weary feet on the Bulmer Stone. Now whether the story is true or not we have no way of knowing, but certainly the tale must still have been doing the rounds in the early 19th century when these bronze plaques were made. 

However there are even older and stranger tales of the Bulmer Stone. For it is mentioned in a seminal collection of folklore known as the Denham Tracts. This volume was put together by a Yorkshire tradesman named Michael Aislabie Denham between the years 1846 and 1859. Originally published in several parts, these miscellanies of lore were later collected together, reorganised and re-edited by James Hardy and published in two volumes by the Folklore Society in 1892 and 1895. Now in the Denham Tracts, there is a section entitled "Book Rhymes" which opens thus - 

In the library of the Dean and Chapter of Durham is an ancient Missale Eomanorum, once the property of the church of Hutton Rudby, Yorkshire, as we learn from the following quaint rhymes contained in the bowke itself : — 

Whoso owne me dothe loke,
I am ye Chourche of Rudby's bowke ;
Whoso dothe saye ye contrary,
I reporte me to awll ye parysshyngby. 

This book was given by Samuel Davidson, Esq., to the Rev. George Davenport, Rector of Houghton-le-Spring, and was by him, in 1662, given to the library left by Bishop Cosin to the clergy of the Diocese of Durham.

And it goes on to record that a notable rhyme found in this ancient book goes like this -

In Darnton towne ther is a stane,
And most strange is yt to tell,
That yt turnes nine times round aboute
When yt hears ye clock strike twell.

A curious legend to be sure! However whether the stone is supposed to revolve at midday or midnight, or indeed at both times the clock strikes twelve is unclear. And, perhaps needless to say, as far as I know, there are no actual accounts of anyone ever witnessing this megalithic miracle. However weirdly, this reported phenomena is not as outlandish as it first sounds, for while the concept of a huge stone moving all by itself sounds bizarre, this is not an isolated case. For many other standing stones in the United Kingdom have legends attached to them that claim at certain times of the day they move or revolve. Usually the stones that are reputed to wander or rotate often have other tales told about them too, stories that give them a magical nature - such as they were people or witches turned to stone, dropped there by giants or devils, or even simply that they were the work of  ancient mysterious pagan folks. And while we now know that the Bulmer Stone found its place thanks to a glacier, and the town centre grew up around it, this old rhyme suggests that once upon a time there may have been other magical tales told about it. And this would explain why no one thought to move the stone out of the high street as the town grew up around it, for in such old tales it is normally held to be very bad luck to attempt to move a mysterious megalith...