FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Thirsty Stones

The King's Men at the Rollright Stones

In this little series of articles we have been discussing the curious lore surrounding the standing stones and ancient monuments of the British Isles. So far we have investigated tales of rocks that revolve and rotate, megaliths that move about the countryside on their own, and last time, we discovered that allegedly some stones even come to life and dance. And when discussing the animated antics of the famous Rollright Stones, we discovered that local folklore claims they have another peculiar habit, that of sloping off in the dead of night to go for a drink. Now obviously the ancient stones are not sliding into the bar of the Red Lion in nearby Long Compton for a swift half - that would be patently ridiculous - however it is said that the Rollrights make their way down the hill to sip from a spring in nearby woodland. 

Most curious behaviour I'm sure you'll agree. However surprisingly the Rollright Stones are not the only ancient rocks with a taste for water, for it would seem that many British standing stones have something of thirst. To begin with we have another tale of that baddest of rock stars, the Wimblestone (see here for details of its other exploits). According to an old story recounted by R Tongue in Somerset Folklore (1965), the often highly mobile and aggressive Wimblestone was prone to pay a visit to another ancient monument, the Water Stone near Wrington. Now this actually an arrangement of stones that are all that remains of a neolithic burial chamber, and this dolmen seems to take its name from the fact that rain collects in one of the large slabs. According to Tongue's tale, after an altercation with a pesky human, the Wimblestone wandered over the Mendips to carp to the Water Stone about how stupid mortals are, and help itself to a drink of cooling rainwater. 

Other ancient rocks however are somewhat better behaved. At Enstone is another arrangement of stones, the remains of a chambered tomb, known as the Hoar Stone. According to a local legend, the three largest standing stones here are the remains of a man, his horse and his hound who were turned to stone. Unfortunately the story of why this petrification occured seems to be lost in the mists of time. However local lore holds that on Midsummer Eve - a favourite time for stones to go a-moving about on their own it seems - the largest stone, sometimes called 'the Old Soldier' slips off down to the village to take a drink from the stream there.

The Hoar Stone

Nipping off from a drink would appear to be a popular pastime among the remaining stones of ancient burial chambers. Arthur's Stone, another cromlech near Gower in Wales, aside from numerous connections to Arthurian legend, is said to stroll off for a crafty drink of water when no mortals are around. Furthermore it would seem that the stones of Wales are particularly thirsty. Near the village of Evenjobb in Powys, are four standing stones known simply as the Four Stones. And while one may decry the lack of imagination in their naming, their lore is certainly colourful enough with local tales alleging that at midnight the quartet make their way to Hindwell Pool for a refreshing drink. Also in Powys is Maen Llia, or Llia's Stone - and this menhir too is fond of drink, supposedly favouring a morning stroll at dawn to have sup from the River Nedd. While at Reynoldston, another Arthur's Stone is alleged to make an annual trip down to the sea to take a drink. 

For a few stones though, just popping off for a simple drink is not enough. Once again in Powys, Wales, one can find near Crickhowell, the Fish Stone, a tall menhir whose tapering form is somewhat piscine. However it is possible that its name does not merely derive from its shape, but from an old legend that claims on Midsummer Eve once again, the stone not only makes its way to the nearby River Usk but goes for a swim in the waters. Likewise the King Stone, near Hay-on-Wye, in Herefordshire, likes a dip too. Although rather than observing some date of mystical significance, the Fish Stone apparently only bobs off for a swim on very hot days.

Quite why so many ancient standing stones have an attraction to water is something of mystery. However it would appear that it is something that has spread to other items of stonework. For in Langton Herring in the fair county of Dorset, is an ancient cross. Now much weathered by the passing centuries, this is a wayside cross, a small monument erected in the medieval period, considerably later than the assorted stones we have been discussing. However, mere whippersnapper it may be, local lore claims that on New Year's Eve, the Langton Cross makes it way to the River Fleet to take a drink.

Now in this series of little articles, we have discovered that a great many ancient standing stones are claimed to move about of their own volition. Now, the Langton Cross looks rugged and weathered enough to be mistaken for a more ancient monolith, but discovering a relatively recent stone behaving in the same way got me wondering... And next time, we'll discover if there are other modern stones and monuments that are alleged to magically move too

The Langton Cross

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Stone King Wake

In the last few little articles, we have been examining the strange lore of stones that move. We have had tales of revolving rocks and stories of meandering megaliths which go off for a wander at night. However compared to some legends, these stones that won't stand still seem positively sedate. For apparently a huge number of standing stones in the British Isles are somewhat on the energetic side on the quiet!

However this isn't perhaps that surprising given the number of ancient stones which were , according to legend at least, once living beings. A common trope in stone lore is that certain solitary megaliths or stone circles were once folks who were literally petrified. And perhaps the most famous example is the legend concerning the Rollright Stones. This celebrated array of ancient stones stands near the village of Long Compton, on the borders of Warwickshire and Oxfordshire, and comprises a single megalith dubbed The King Stone, a circle  known as the King's Men, and a dolmen called the Whispering Knights.

And of course there is an old tale to explain these names. Once upon a time,  a king had gathered together a powerful band of warriors in order to conquer all of England. However as he assembled  his troops, a witch appeared who cryptically pronounced - 

Seven long strides shalt thou take
And if Long Compton thou canst see,
King of England thou shalt be.

However our ambitious king wasn't going to let the words of some mad old crone deter him, and he replied in kind -

Stick, stock, stone
As King of England I shall be known.

However when he took the seventh stride towards Long Compton, the witch spoke up again, intoning these fateful words -

As Long Compton thou canst not see
King of England thou shalt not be.
Rise up stick and stand still stone
For King of England thou shalt be none;
Thou and thy men hoar stones shall be
And I myself an eldern tree.

And so it was, and hence the Rollright Stones came into existence. And it is said that one day, the witch's spell will be broken and the ancient king will once again march to take the throne of England. Or at least, so the old story goes. Needless to say, archaeologists beg to differ, and offer a very different version of events. However according to local folklore, it would appear that the witch's spell is perhaps not as strong as it might be, for it is claimed that at midnight, the King's Men are restored to human form, and dance around in a circle. But apparently to see this sight will bring the observer either madness or death.

Now this legend first appeared in print in Camden in 1586, and several more versions soon appeared. As was often the case with 16th century publications such as ballad sheets and chapbooks, if one proved popular, further versions, often by pirate publishers cashing in, soon appeared, and frequently making the tale more elaborate with each retelling. Hence in later versions it is claimed that the witch was in fact the famous Yorkshire prophetess Mother Shipton.

However often these publications were printing up stories and songs that were already well-known. To draw a modern analogy, the then new medium of print was not unlike modern cinema, with publishers looking to adapt properties that were already popular, and hence well-loved tales and songs became books in the same way that modern Hollywood turns popular novels, comics and TV shows into (hopefully) blockbusting movies. Hence as it is very possible that this old legend was already well-known to the general public, we cannot say for certain how old the legend of the Rollright Stones actually is.

And British folklore has many more ancient stones that are said to dance too, although often their legends are less elaborate.  For example, the Nine Ladies of Stanton, near Bakewell are said to be the petrified forms of nine witches who were dancing on the Sabbath. And on nights of the full moon, they turn to human form once more and dance again, with a mysterious man in black, possibly the Devil himself, looking on. Like the Rollright Stones, there is a solitary megalith standing outside the circle, also called the King Stone, who legend claims was the fiddler for their revels.

In stories where folklore holds that standing stones were once living beings, it is perhaps not surprising that additional tales contend that at certain times, full moons, midnight or certain notable calendar days, the stones revert to their original forms and move about.  And naturally in many cases these tales obviously have an origin in the fact that it is not a huge leap of the imagination to see a ring of menhirs as crude statues of a circle of dancing folk, or an imposing menhir as a troll or witch turned to stone.

However while the human imagination's inclination to anthropomorphise any suggestive shapes may well account from many legends of ancient stones being petrified beings, other legends are less easy to rationalise. For example, there is another tale of the Rollright Stones, and this one claims that in the dead of night, the King's Men slip off down the hill to drink from a spring in a spinney near Long Compton, with the King Stone alway waiting until it hears the chimes of midnight before lumbering off to whet its whistle.

Now it would be easy to assume that this bonus legend is just a piece of whimsy that has attached itself to the existing lore. But in fact the Rollright Stones are not alone in exhibiting this most unusual behaviour, and next time we shall round up a legion of other stones that appear to have something of a thirst! 

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Strolling Stones

The Cheesewring at Bodmin Moor

Over the past few weeks we have been exploring some legends surrounding certain standing stones that claim that these ancient pieces of rock actually revolve, at particular times of the day or year, of their own accord. A famous example is the Cheesewring in Devon (pictured above), an iconic array of stones, often thought to be an ancient structure but was actually formed by wind and weather erosion. It has a typical folkloric origin tale, in this case it is said that the Cheesewring is the result of rock throwing contest between a local giant Uther and Saint Tue. But also according to legend, the topmost stone revolves at dawn when it hears a cockcrow. In this case, we should perhaps note that in addition to the miraculous ability to rotate itself, as it is located in the wilds of Bodmin Moor, the Cheesewring must also possess preternatural auditory senses too as the nearest farms where a cockerel might be lie many miles away! 

Last week I outlined a theory that these tales of self-turning stones perhaps originated in the 18th century, thanks to a highly influential book recording how on the Isle of Barry, an alleged survival of Druid rituals was the custom of walking around a local standing stone. And the idea that standing stones were linked to Druids and people would "take a religious turn" around them seeped into the folklore of many megaliths, and became corrupted into tall tales that the stones themselves did the turning. And as we have discovered in recent weeks, the alleged ability of stones to revolve or rotate frequently appears to be a generic attribute added to more elaborate and individual folklore stories about them.

However I suspect this generic attribute of turning themselves at cockcrow or certain days of the year, while sounding rather bizarre to modern ears, easily took root in folklore due to the presence of an earlier related story tradition. For while revolving now and again might sound very odd to us, it is in fact the very least of the magical powers of mobility that ancient standing stones were reputed to possess. To begin with we have numerous legends and old tales of stones that walk. For example, in Gloucestershire, near the ancient market town of Minchinhampton, is a menhir called the Long Stone, which does considerably more than revolve!

"When the Longstone hears the clock strike twelve, it runs round the field," as almost every child in the place will tell you. 

from Cotswold Place-Lore and Customs by J. B. Partridge, in Folklore, Vol. 23, No. 3. (Sep., 1912)

Furthermore, not far away is another megalith, one that is thought to be the remnant of a long barrow. And this standing stone is keen on a bit of exercise as well, as Mr Patridge goes on to relate -

In Avening parish, about half a mile south of the Longstone, is "Tinglestone," a menhir crowning a long barrow; Mr. Frost of Avening tells me that it too* "runs round the field when it hears the clock strike twelve."

Skipping a little further north, we have the famous monuments at Avebury, which comprise of three stone circles and an ancient henge. To the north of the village lies one of the larger megaliths in the complex, a diamond shaped sarsen known as the Swindon Stone. However despite weighing in at an impressive 65 tonnes, the Swindon Stone likes to get out and about too, with local legends asserting that it is apt to go for a wander, and crosses the nearby road at midnight.

The Swindon Stone at Avebury

Now of course it would be easy to dismiss such legends as idle fancy, however we do have more detailed reports of the secret strolls taken by standing stones. Consider the following tale concerning the Wimblestone, located near Shipham, related in the book Somerset Folklore (1965) by Ruth L Tongue - 

Zebedee Fry were coming home late from the hay-making above Shipham. It were full moon, for they'd worked late to finish, and the crop was late being a hill field, so he had forgot what night 'twas. He thought he saw something big and dark moving in the field where the big stone stood, but he was too bone-weary to go chasing any stray bullock. Then something huge and dark in field came rustling all alongside lane hedge, and Zebedee he up and dive into the brimmles in the ditch till it passed right along, and then he ran all a-tiptoe to reach Shipham. When he come to the field gate he duck two-double and he rush past it. But, for all that, he see this gurt stone, twelve feet and more, a-dancing to itself in the moonlight over top end of field. And where it always stood the moon were shining on a heap of gold money. But Zebedee he didn't stop for all that, not until he were safe at the inn at Shipham. They called he all sorts of fool for not getting his hand to the treasure - but nobody seemed anxious to have a try - not after he'd told them how nimble it danced round field. And nobody knows if 'twill dance again in a hundred years. Not till there's a full moon on Midsummer Night.

It is interesting to note that "wimble" is thought to be derived from an old word meaning 'lively' or 'giddy'. And indeed there are other tales of folks falling foul of the Wimblestone, with one story alleging it attacked a farmer who struck it with a stick, and chased him across the countryside until he took refuge in a nearby church!

The Wimblestone, seen here behaving itself for a change

As a side note, it would seem that tales about the marauding Wimblestone inspired one of the stranger monsters ever seen in Doctor Who. In October 1978, an adventure for the Fourth Doctor (played Tom Baker) began entitled The Stones of Blood. Now as well featuring Druidic rites, megaliths, and Celtic goddesses, we were introduced to some alien monsters called the Ogri. These space criminals had been hiding out on Earth, and as they were a silicon based life form, they disguised had themselves as menhirs! The practical upshot of which was we had standing stones moving around at night in search of blood to drink!

But to return to the realm of folklore, thankfully though, it would appear that most stones that like a stroll aren't as aggressive as the Wimblestone. However it would seem that such stories of walking stones are in fact very ancient indeed. Around 828 AD, a Welsh monk named Nennius wrote an epic work entitled Historia Brittonum which recounted the history of the British Isles and its peoples. Much of the material in the volume was fanciful to say the least and owed more to legend than actual historical fact. And while it is of limited value to historians, it is a treasure trove of folklore. For example, Nennius makes a very interesting reference to a tale about an ancient standing stone found in Wales -

The third is a stone which moves at night in Glenn Cindenn, and though it should be cast into the sea, or into a cataract, it would be found on the margin of the same valley.

It is also worth noting that it is thought that Nennius didn't actually pen all (or according to some scholars, any) of Historia Brittonum, and that the text was assembled from even earlier anonymous sources. The mention of the stone returning to its site if ever moved is also a common feature in moving stone lore, alongside stories of the stones resisting and foiling any attempt to move them. For example, our bad boy rockstar, the Wimblestone is alleged to have rolled over and crushed a chap who tried to pull it up with oxen. So then, it would seem we can trace stories of strolling stones back at least to the 7th century. Little wonder then that the apparently more recent additions to folklore involving stones rotating took root so quickly. And as we shall we next week, ancient stones often did more incredible things than just taking an occasional hike...

Doctor Who and the Stones of Blood

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Turning of the Stone

Over the past few weeks, we have been examining curious legends about assorted ancient stones, in particular the strange tales that claim many of them possess the magical ability rotate or turn themselves at certain times, usually at midnight or sunrise. So far we discovered that such fanciful stories of revolving rocks often don't appear to have any clear origin, and in many cases seem to be a gloss on to any existing folklore surrounding the site. 

However a possible clue to the source of these stories perhaps lies in the fact that many of these stones have previously been assumed to be some surviving monuments created by prehistoric or pagan people, when in fact often they are actually natural features of the landscape or of more recent construction. A typical example is the Cuckoo Stone in Derbyshire (shown above), a large rock to be found just outside Matlock. This huge stone has often been thought to be a surviving megalith from ancient times, and its jagged, spiky shape is very reminiscent of other standing stones. However despite stories of a lost stone circle in the area, modern scholars tend to think it is just an natural boulder. 

However its name has an interesting tale to relate. It is thought that 'Cuckoo' is a corruption of 'cock crow'. For like other ancient stones we have been discussing, this imposing rock is said to turn itself around if it hears a cock crow, presumably at dawn, and upon certain days of the year. However which days of the year these are, no one is very clear about. And yet other tales add the claim that the Cuckoo Stone also revolves at midnight too. Again we have no clue as to why this stone should gyrate in this fashion other than a long standing association with being a possible site of ancient worship.

The Turning Stone

Not far away from the Cuckoo Stone, just outside Ashover, is another revolving rock, the Turning Stone. Much like the Cuckoo Stone, the Turning Stone is alleged to revolve at certain days of the year at cock crow. However once again the old local lore doesn't actually specify which days of the year this occurs on. Given there is only around 5 kilometers between the two stones, one can't help wondering if the legends have spread from one to the other. However we should note that both stones' names refer to their alleged usual rotating antics. 

Now the exact origins of the Turning Stone are unclear - it could well be a natural formation but largely due to its proximity to what is very likely a man-made megalithic structure called Robin Hood's Mark,  it has been assumed to be a relic of ancient man. An 18th century antiquarian, Hayman Rooke in an article entitled  'An Account of the Druidical Remains in Derbyshire. In a Letter to the Right Honourable Frederick Montague, FAS. By Hayman Rooke, Esq. FAS.' published in n Archaeologia v12 (1796), has this to say about Robin Hood's Mark - 

This rocking stone, which, from its extraordinary position, evidently appears not only to have been the work of art, but to have been placed with great ingenuity; the two upper stones (a and b) have been shaped to fit exactly with the two upright stones (c and d) on which they rest; and so artfully contrived, that the lower stone (b) moves with the upper stone (a). It measures about 26 feet in circumference.
That this is a Druidical monument formed by art, cannot, I think, be denied; we are assured that the Druids were well skilled in the art of magic, by which the superstitious Britons were led implicitly to believe in the miracles performed by these rocking stones.

And he goes on to mention the nearby Turning Stone -

It stands on the edge of a hill on Ashover common; height nine feet. It was a very ancient practice among the Britons to make three turns round their sacred rocks and fires, according to the course of the sun. Martin, in his account of the Western isles, says, "that in the Isle of Barry there is one stone about seven feet high, and when the inhabitants come near it, they take a religious turn round according to the ancient Druid custom." Hence there is great reason to suppose, that the above-mentioned stone was a rock idol to whom the Druids offered up their devotional rites.

Now the book he is referencing is A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland by Martin Martin, which was first published in 1703. Now this volume detailing the life, culture and traditions of the Scottish isles was a huge success, inspiring many similar works, and remaining constantly in print for a century after it first hit the shelves, with a raft of special editions and reprints following. Given the huge impact Martin's tome had upon the study of ancient history and folklore, I rather suspect his writings are the origin of much speculation about Druids and standing stones over the years.

Robin Hood's Mark - an illustration from Rooke

However the striking thing here I think is Martin's phrase "a religious turn" to describe the rite of walking around the stone. Rooke makes the connection with Martin's account and the name Turning Stone, and you can see how deeply Martin's writing had influenced antiquarian thinking in Rooke's day. Now modern scholars would be very wary of taking a report of one local custom and seeing it as a relic of a Druidic ritual once practiced nationwide, as we now appreciate how localised such lore often is. However back when the study of ancient history and folklore was young, such over-elaborations and far-reaching generalisations were more commonplace, as they were working from an assumption that there was a nationwide culture.

Whether or not the Isle of Barry ritual detailed by Martin was an authentic survival of a Druid rite doesn't really matter in reference to the origins of rotating stone stories. But the huge influence of his book is I suspect another matter, in particular the way his writings influenced our view of ancient Druidic and Celtic cultures. And given the phenomenal print runs of this book, I can't help but wonder if the common folkloric tale of a standing stone turning itself at a certain time or on a certain day of the year actually originates from Martin, with the notion that ancient Druids taking "a religious turn" around the local standing stone becoming quickly corrupted in oral retellings as the stone itself doing the turning. This would at least account for the fuzziness over which days of the year the Turning Stone and Cuckoo Stone are supposed to do their tricks.

However I suspect there may be another factor at play here than merely just a historical case of Chinese Whispers. For there is another similarly widespread tradition of stories about standing stones which perhaps provided the fertile ground for the turning misconception to take root in. And that is the legions of stories about stones that walk, which we will explore in the next Folklore on Friday.

The Turning Stone - an illustration from Rooke

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...