The Folklore of Standing Stones, Megaliths, and Menhirs

There’s something awesome yet eerie about encountering standing stones in the landscape. Why are they there? Who put them there? And how did they put them there? The fact we can’t often answer these questions helps add to their mystery.

Standing stones go by a range of names, such as lith (i.e. megalith) or menhir. They’re fairly easy to define since they’re stones placed in the ground, and usually Neolithic or Bronze Age in age. They come in a range of shapes and sizes, with a huge variety of types, markings, and engravings.

The absence of knowledge about who erected standing stones and why creates a vacuum that folklore is only too happy to fill. Speculation runs rife with these stones.

Our focus here is the folklore associated with standing stones, not their history. Given the sheer number of stones across Europe, Africa, and Asia, I’ve chosen examples that show different types of legends. This is a huge topic, so I can’t possibly do it justice in a single blog post. Not all of these stones are Neolithic, either – a couple of them are slightly more recent, yet they accrue folklore all the same. It’s as if people just love coming up with stories for things in the landscape!

I’ve covered stone circles here! But let’s take a look at the folklore of standing stones…

Mên-an-Tol

We’ll start in Cornwall with some very famous standing stones. The Mên-an-Tol is believed to be Bronze Age, and while there are four stones in total, it’s most famous for the upright circular stone. Its name means ‘holed stone’, or ‘the stone with the hole’ in Cornish.

According to John Thomas Blight, the stone “is supposed to have been originally used for some Druidical ceremonies” (1989 [1861]: 19). Of course, we know next to nothing about the druids, thanks to their habit of not writing things down. While it’s true the Druids may have used stones, we’d have no way of knowing how, or indeed why.

The Mên-an-Tol is more famous in folklore because people might pass children with rickets or TB through the hole to cure their ailments. This explains its local name, the ‘Crick Stone’. It was important to pass the child through 3 or 9 times, both being magical numbers. Apparently, pregnant women wanting an easy birth, or women wanting to get pregnant, also used the stone, though it’s not clear how (The Cornwall Guide 2022).

According to Jacqueline Simpson and Steve Roud, writer W. C. Borlase recalled a farmer telling him in 1749 that people in the area crept through the hole to cure pains in their limbs or back. The concept grew over time, with people allegedly using the stone to cure scrofula. That said, Simpson and Roud point out that it’s unlikely anyone with back problems would be able to crawl through the hole (2003: 182).

One legend concerned a guardian pixy at the stone, responsible for these miraculous cures. A local reported their mother knew of an instance in which a parent passed a changeling through the hole to get their child back. Since the pixy at the stone was benevolent, it could undo the work of malevolent pixies (Evans-Wentz 1911: 179).

Mên Scryfa

But half a mile away stands Mên Scryfa, or ‘written stone’. Its inscription reads ‘Rialobranus Cunovali Filius’, meaning the son of Cunoval, Rialobran, lies there (Blight 1989 [1861]: 19). Blight suggests the type of writing suggests the inscription dates to before the mid-6th century (1989 [1861]: 20).

No one knows who Rialobran was. A local tradition once held that two warring groups fought a mighty battle nearby. The stone marked the burial place of one of the leaders. Even more fantastical, the stone’s length, around nine feet, matched the warrior’s height (Blight 1989 [1861]: 21).

In one legend, a local man learned that gold hordes sometimes lay beneath large stones. Wanting to become rich, he dug a huge pit around Mên Scryfa. It fell, face downward. No one knows if the man found any gold or not (Blight 1989 [1861]: 20).

The stone has since been pushed upright again, although it suffered vandalism in June 2023. Someone used petrol to light the top of the stone on fire, and dug a 4″ hole around the stone’s base (Morris 2023). The fire destroyed lichen on the stone, and I have absolutely no idea what the culprit thought they were doing.

The Devil’s Jump Stone

Standing stones naturally accrue their own lore, and the Devil’s Jump Stone near Marston Moretaine in Bedfordshire is no different. Glaciers brought the stone here during the Ice Age, making it a natural erratic, and people later stood it up as a standing stone. At one point, the Jump Stone was part of a group of three.

Local tradition explains its name through the time when a farmer was ‘jumping’ on a Sunday in a nearby field. This was likely a game of leapfrog. The Devil appeared and took his leap from the church tower. He landed on the Jump Stone before carrying away the farmer for breaking the Sabbath (Westwood 2005: 9).

An alternative version published in 1950 claimed that three boys were jumping on the site of Jumps Inn near the stone on a Sunday. A stranger wandered over and offered to show them how to leap higher. He completed three high leaps himself, marked by the three stones, before seizing the three boys. They all vanished in blue flames (Westwood 2005: 9).

The Devil’s Arrows

And the Devil is linked to our next stone – or, rather, stones. The Devil’s Arrows are three standing stones near Boroughbridge, Yorkshire. They stand in an almost straight line running north-south. One theory claims they aligned with the summer moonrise (Hawkins no date 1). Four stones once stood here, until builders took one for building work. There are rumours of a fifth, but no one knows where it went (Hawkins, no date 1).

In the 16th century, William Camden noted their association with the Devil. William Stukeley assumed the Druids were behind the stones, though they’re most likely prehistoric.

Their name as ‘arrows’ or ‘bolts’ is likely to come from the furrows they display, worn into them by wind and rain. Jennifer Westwood and Jacqueline Simpson suggest these grooves look like the notches cut into arrows to hold the feathers (2005: 824). Their huge size suggests a giant used them as tools, and the Devil is a traditionally gigantic figure. One story sees him stand on How Hill, near Fountain’s Abbey and some seven miles away. No one knows why, but he unleashed his arrows, which fell short and landed where we now find the stones (Westwood 2005: 824).

Thompson’s Stone

We often think of stone circles or barrows being aligned to celestial events. Surely it’s much harder for single stones to do the same?

Well, the Thompson’s Stone on Simonside Hills in Northumberland apparently does exactly that. It takes its name from radiologist David Thompson, who discovered the rock in 1987. A hole in the huge boulder apparently lines up with sunset on the summer solstice. The Countryside Charity affirms it does actually work, and has a photo of it doing so on their website.

According to Crispian Oates, it aligns with the summer solstice sunset over Yarnspath Law in the Cheviots, and it aligns with sunrise on the winter solstice with Tynemouth Priory (2009: 31).

While the hole might be natural, the rock itself is likely to have been placed there. A pile of rocks form a firm foundation for the stone (Oates 2009: 37).

It doesn’t have any local folklore attached to it as far as I could find, though its location on Simonside Hills, the home of the duergar certainly caught my eye. But it deserves inclusion here through its summer solstice alignment. Sadly, without further excavation, we won’t know when it was set up.

Maen Llia

The Maen Llia stone is a fine example from the Bannau Brycheiniog, where is sits in moorland in Fforest Fawr. It’s over 12ft tall.

It’s also attracted more legends than some of the other stones in this article. One of them claims that the stone drinks from a nearby stream. One translation put forward for Llia is ‘to lick’, and Maen means stone’, making Maen Llia ‘the stone that licks’ (Deacon 2018).

It’s not as strange as it sounds. On the summer solstice, the stone’s shadow at sunset actually stretches down the hill as far as the Afon Llia.

A different legend suggests the stone goes to drink from the River Nedd whenever a cock crows. Or the stone apparently goes to the River Mellte on midsummer morning (Mid Wales My Way 2023).

Some think it may have been a geographical marker due to its visibility, or it might have marked an ancient track. Both Latin and Ogam inscriptions could be seen on its surface as recently as the 1940s.

The Castel Menhir

This is a fascinating example from Guernsey because the granite slab was carved to create a stylised female figure. You can make out her crowd, a necklace, and even a belt. This one lay undiscovered under the steps of St Marie du Castel church until 1878. No one knows where it originally stood, though there is a suggestion it was hidden under the church.

A leaflet by the Culture & Leisure Department at Guernsey Museum claims the damage to its right breast was deliberate, as a way to dismiss pagan worship (no date).

Yet she’s not the only female menhir on the island. There is a second one, with less damage, at St Martin’s. This one guards the gates to the churchyard.

Newly married brides and grooms still each leave a coin on the statue before leaving the church to ensure a long, happy marriage (Jim 2016). People also leave flowers at her feet, while couples make sure she appears in wedding photos as a ‘lucky guest’ (Megalithic Guernsey no date).

Bulford Stone

Of course, not all standing stones treated as such are necessarily prehistoric. While my intention here was to look at stones treated as somehow sacred, it is worth bearing in mind those stones treated as sacred…even if they aren’t.

One such stone in Bulford, Wiltshire lay in a bend of the River Avon. It was a square block of limestone, so clearly shaped by human hands, and set with an iron ring. Somehow, it acquired the reptuation of being cursed. In the 19th century, a farmer used a team of oxen to haul it from the water, to no avail. In 1910, reports claimed further attempts also failed, with even sixty oxen unable to shift it (Westwood 2005: 784).

One writer, J. P. Emslie, claimed that if you turned over the stone, it righted itself.

The authorities finally removed the stone in the 1960s, though the men selected to do so tried to avoid the assignment. Apparently, they thought the stone was cursed (Westwood 2005: 784).

It’s not the only stone in Wiltshire believed to be immovable. People believed another stone at East Knoyle had as much below ground as above. No matter how many horses they used, they couldn’t pull it free. One local claimed the Devil dropped the stone on his way to build Stonehenge (Westwood 2005: 785).

What do we make of the folklore of standing stones?

This is a massive topic, and we can only really scratch the surface in blog posts like these. And part of the problem is that not many stones have extensive legends. The stories are more snippets or fragments.

There are common points, such as the stones being thrown by a giant or the Devil, or dropped by the Devil. They’re often somehow immovable or marked a burial place or important location.

Strangely, these stories don’t follow the same pattern as stone circles, which often see people turned into stones. But perhaps the remote location made it less likely for people to invent stories for them, as they were less likely to encounter them.

We also don’t know how many stones have been removed over the years for building work. But standing stones do seem to stand like silent sentinels, watching over the local area…though what they’re watching for remains a mystery.

Which of these standing stones do you like best?

References

Blight, John Thomas (1989 [1861]), A Week at the Land’s End, Penzance: Alison Hodge.

Culture & Leisure Department (no date), ‘Castel Statue-Menhir’, Guernsey Museum & Art Gallery, https://museums.gov.gg/CHttpHandler.ashx?id=76182&p=0.

Deacon, Thomas (2018), ‘Life in Wales before history was first written: What our standing stones can tell us’, Wales Online, https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/life-wales-before-history-first-15057225.

Evans-Wentz, W. Y. (1911), The Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries, London: Henry Frowde.

Hawkins, Simon (no date 1), ‘Devil’s Arrows’, Fabulous North, https://fabulousnorth.com/devils-arrows/.

Hawkins, Simon (no date 2), ‘Thompson’s Rock Solstice Stone’, Fabulous North, https://fabulousnorth.com/thompsons-rock-solstice-stone/.

Jim (2016), ‘The Castel Menhir’, Island Folktales, https://islandfolktales.wordpress.com/2016/07/19/the-castel-menhir/.

Megalithic Guernsey (no date), ‘La Gran’mère du Chimquière’, Megalithic Guernsey, http://www.megalithicguernsey.co.uk/la-granmere-du-chimquiere/.

Mid Wales My Way (2023), ‘Maen Llia’, Mid Wales My Way, https://www.midwalesmyway.com/maenllia.

Morris, Jonathan (2023), ‘Cornwall standing stone Men Scryfa set alight’, BBC News, https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cornwall-65811471.

Oates, Crispian (2009), ‘A Holed Stone on Spy Law Beacon’, Archaeologia Aeliana Series 5. Vol 38, pp. 31-42.

Simpson, Jacqueline and Steve Roud (2003), A Dictionary of English Folklore, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

The Cornwall Guide (2022), ‘Men-An-Tol Holed Stone’, The Cornwall Guide, https://www.cornwalls.co.uk/history/sites/men_an_tol.htm.

The Countryside Charity (no date), ‘The holed stone on Simonside’, The Countryside Charity, https://northumberland.cprelocalgroups.org.uk/discover/the-holed-stone-on-simonside/.

Westwood, Jennifer and Simpson, Jacqueline (2005), The Lore of the Land: A Guide to England’s Legends, London: Penguin.