Scottish Borders Folk Tales

by James P. Spence

  Young Willie was very much like his father, so when word came frae the Lord o Buccleuch that there was tae be nae mair reiving intae England, hae decided that hae wasnae going tae gie up cattle-stealing awthegither, that hae would have tae make do with stealing Scottish cattle instead.

  It so happened that Sir Gideon Murray o Elibank Castle was an auld enemy o the wealthy Scott family. What’s mair Sir Gideon had some cattle tae make any reiver’s mooth water an make his arm itch tae drive them hame with him.

  Even though Sir Gideon had warned the laddie an aw an sundry that there would be dire consequences for anybody caught anywhere near his cattle, the gallus young Willie an some o his cohorts set oot yin night for Elibank Castle, which is near the village o Ettrick Bridge.

  However, Willie an his men were caught in the act an Sir Gideon slung the culprits intae his dungeon, so that Willie could reflect on his folly. Willie fully expected tae be hanged the very next morning, as Sir Gideon was keen tae make an example o him as a warning tae others that might be tempted by his fine cattle.

  Early the next morning Sir Gideon was startled when his wife Lady Murray asked o him, did hae really intend tae hang young Willie Scott? Hae looked at his wife as if she’d lost her senses. But Lady Murray had been very taken by the appearance o Willie Scott, an she was very aware o the predicament o her youngest daughter, Margaret. The Murrays had several aulder daughters who had been successfully married off, but not so with Margaret. Due tae the wealth an standing o the Murrays o Elibank, suitors came frae far an wide with the intention o wooing young Margaret. That is until they clapped eyes on her. At which point they would quickly depart with embarrassing haste. She wasnae exactly bonnie, an was considered a very plain-looking lassie, an often referred tae as Muckle-mou’d Meg, or Margaret with the extremely large mooth. Whereas young Scott was handsome, very popular amongst his peers, an frae a guid family (be it a family that was at odds with the Murrays). Surely there would never be a better chance for Margaret tae get a fine husband? Why not release him if hae agrees tae marry Margaret?

  When the idea was put tae Margaret, she was very pleased an took it upon herself tae dress herself up as a superior servant an sought oot some extra food tae take doon tae the dungeons for the prisoners. She got speaking tae young Scott an offered tae take a message frae him tae his mother. She also assured him that she would try her best tae save him.

  Willie Scott was quite taken in by this lassie, not by her looks but by her kindness tae him.

  They were men o action in those days, an so a priest was immediately sent for.

  When young Willie was taken oot o the dungeon hae expected tae die an a lot o folk were gathered tae see the spectacle. Hae looked at the tree with the noose (or gibbet) dangling frae it. Sir Gideon approached him an pointed oot the tree with the gibbet on yin side, an then pointed oot the priest an his daughter Margaret on the other side. For a few moments Willie was confused, until it was explained tae him that if hae chose the priest an the lassie, hae would avoid the gibbet. If hae married that kindly lass, who turned oot tae be Sir Gideon’s daughter, hae would live an be turned loose. However, if hae chose the priest alone then the gibbet would immediately follow.

  Though hae had the means o saving himself, Willie’s pride wouldnae allow him tae marry someone not o his choosing. Perhaps if Meg had been a great beauty like his mother, who was kent as the Flooer o Yarrow, hae could have been enticed intae marrying her. So hae started tae walk bravely towards the gibbet, but the nearer hae got the uglier the rope looked. Nae, it wasnae a comfortable-looking rope at aw, an hae knew it would be a great deal less so yince it was drawn roond his neck.

  Everybody was silent as hae slowed his pace, as if every step now was the result o a great deal o rumination. She was nae great beauty, an hae could have had his pick o lassies, but her kindly eyes stood oot frae the gathered crowd. Also, if hae allowed himself tae be hanged then hae would have nae wife at aw.

  ‘Woah,’ hae said, ‘I hae tae say, Sir Gideon, I’m comin roond tae yer proposal, but would like three days tae think aboot it.’

  ‘Neither the noose nor the priest are for waitin. Decide at yince,’ demanded Sir Gideon.

  There was a kindly look in Meg’s eye, for the predicament that Willie was in, but there was mair tae it than that, there was a true liking for him, which would have opened oot intae a smile in almost any other circumstance. Hae kent for certain that she had a guid heart. Hae nodded his agreement. Then with guid grace hae kissed her, an they were married there an then.

  Meg proved tae be a guid wife, an they had several children, an hae had nae regrets. Hae became Sir William Scott. In the centuries that followed Sir Walter Scott (the writer), Robert Louis Stevenson, the Elliots o Minto an Lord Heathfield aw claimed descent frae him.

  12

  SLEEKIT GOINGS-ON

  ROBBIE HENSPECKLE

  Robbie Henspeckle was a shoemaker in Selkirk, an hae liked tae ken everybody’s business. Hae was a right nosey fella an nothing happened in the toon withoot him being yin o the first tae ken aboot it.

  Yin day a stranger came intae his shop an ordered a pair o shoes. So whilst Robbie was taking the measurements o the man’s feet hae o course asked him aw sorts o questions. But nae matter how hae put these questions, Robbie could get nothing oot o the fella. ‘I’ll be back in the morn. Have the shoes ready for me then,’ said the stranger.

  Aw the rest o that day Robbie quizzed folk aboot this mystery fella. Hae would gie a description o this stranger tae folk, but nobody could match it tae any living man that they kent. A few that travelled aboot the country a bit, however, could match such a description tae a fella that had recently died in a parish a fair bit away frae Selkirk. As mair an mair folk confirmed this accretion, Robbie started tae get a wee bit trauchled.

  However, the stranger came back intae the shop the very next morning, just as hae’d said hae would. Hae promptly paid for the shoes an left. Despite Robbie’s feeling that there was something awfie queer aboot this fella, his curiosity got the better o him an hae decided that hae would follow him. A couple o minutes later the stranger went intae the graveyard. When the shoemaker himself made his way intae the kirk grounds hae was met with a sight that had him shoogling like a leaf. The stranger had reached a particular gravestane an had lain doon in front o it. Having done so hae promptly vanished intae thin air.

  Robbie immediately fled the graveyard an made for the nearest public place so that hae could tell his queer story. Very soon it was aw roond the hooses an Selkirk was in a right stramash. The civic chiefs decided that they would open up the grave in an attempt tae calm folk doon an find oot the truth o the matter.

  After the gravediggers had done their work, an the lid was carefully lifted, there lay the corpse, complete with the new pair o shoes. Superstition being what it was back then the civic chiefs had a new, possibly sturdier, coffin made, an reburied the unsettled body.

  Being a practical sort o fella, an nae yin tae let a few qualms get in the way o a wee bit o extra profit, Robbie decided tae resell the shoes. Hae put them up for sale in his shop. It was tae be a terrible mistake, however, for nae long after this, Robbie vanished.

  On opening the stranger’s coffin yince mair, the shoes that Robbie had made for him were back on the corpse’s feet, an in his hand was Robbie’s nightcap.

  THE TRYST

  Nae far oot o Yetholm, where the Bowmont Water comes doon atween the hills; ower tae the right o the road is a peaceful an bonnie place, where bairns doon through the years have fished for baggies, an probably still do. A long time ago though, when folk were far mair plentiful in the countryside, this was the setting for a very queer story. It is a story that certainly up until a few years ago some folk were still insisting actually took place. Such folk could usually point oot the particular thick o trees; especially if they’d heard the tale first-hand frae a particular lady o yin o the noble families o the district, as she apparently kent the granddaughter o the lass it concer
ned.

  Mae was the daughter o a local shepherd, an everybody who laid eyes on her saw her as the flower o the Bowmont Water. Despite aw the attention she got frae the local laddies she wasnae interested in them. Some considered her ‘ower snootie for her ain guid’, others said it was just her age an that it did nae harm for a lass like her tae take her time in considering her options.

  After a time a young man cawed Geordie appeared in the district. Hae had arrived after the last hiring fare tae work on yin o the farms. Mae immediately took a shine tae him, an it wasnae long after that she started seeing the newcomer. As weel as being tall, derk an guid looking, hae had nice manners an didnae snigger an say coarse things as soon as her back was turned, unlike some o the local laddies. Mae felt that Geordie was ower guid for grafting on a farm. An educated man such as Geordie should have a position. Mae kept such thoughts tae herself, however, as she didnae want tae suggest anything that might take Geordie oot o the district an away frae her.

  On the other hand, other folk didnae see Geordie in the same way at aw. For aw his bonnie manners an showy way o speaking they got tae ken very little aboot him. Some reckoned hae had the air o a fly-by-night aboot him; others insisted that hae was ‘… full o air, hot air at that’, whilst others again reckoned hae was just plain sleekit. But when pressed further, naebodie could exactly put their finger on what it was that was aboot him, an would leave long pauses when giving their opinion on the matter tae indicate the conviction o their belief. ‘Ach, ye ken, I dinnae rightly ken what it is aboot him, but I ken there’s something kind o queer, I’ll tell ye that.’ Adding tae this undercurrent was nae doot the sense o being hard done by felt by a lot o the laddies that had been turned doon by the bonnie Mae.

  It was the middle o June an everything was coming tae life, the countryside was fair bursting with greenery, an the hawthorns looked like royalty the way they were robed in their rich white blossom. Mae was in full bloom herself. Whenever she was aboot in the thoroughfares she would leave a trail o silence trailing in her wake where the laddies an men were concerned. But Mae didnae have a care, didnae have a thought that wasnae tae do with her sweetheart Geordie. Her heart was fair puffed up with gladness, an her sparkling eyes matched the glorious weather.

  It was weel past finishing time on this particular evening that the slim young lass was sauntering oot past the fields. By an by she made her way doon intae a wee secluded glen. At a small thick o trees she stopped, for this is where she was tae meet her Geordie. They could be by themselves with naebodie tae disturb them, an only the singing o the birds, the murmur o the burn an the reeshling o the breeze in the trees tae accompany their sweet kisses. Geordie had a bonnie way o speaking, hae would compare her eyes tae precious diamonds, especially when they lit up in her smile. An what hae said tae her only served tae make her smile aw the mair.

  Because o her excitement at seeing Geordie again, Mae had arrived at their meeting place with bags o time tae spare. Tae pass the time an tae catch sight o Geordie as soon as his heid bobbed ower the brow o the hill, Mae decided tae sclim up yin o the trees. There she waited as the sun poured doon through the fresh green leaves. As she gazed at the leaves, she couldnae help thinking that it must not be possible tae get a brighter mair glorious green than they were just now. Then, as the time went on, doots began creeping intae her heid. ‘What if hae disnae show? What if hae’s gaun off me? What if hae’s found somebody hae likes better? What if I’m nae bonnie enough for him?’ But she’d done herself up in the ways that hae’d asked o her, tae show up her bonnie blue eyes, the redness o her auburn hair, her white teeth, her long fingers an slender wrists.

  Then as Geordie’s derk hair appeared ower the top o the rise aw her doots evaporated. Now her heart soared an she found herself grinning frae lug tae lug. As hae made his way doon the slope, Mae was just aboot tae sclim doon the tree an run right up an throw her arms aroond him, when she stopped herself. An impish thought came intae her heid. Besides she was fair enjoying watching him saunter doon the slope in his braw white shirt that set off the broon skin o his sun-drenched face an arms.

  She could hardly contain herself as she continued tae watch as hae paused beneath the tree below her. Hae cast aboot this way an that, obviously anxious tae see her coming. She smiled an sighed as she watched the way hae stood, the way hae turned his heid, the way hae sighed, even the way hae breathed. By now hae must have been wondering what was keeping her. The fact that hae seemed quite anxious as hae looked oot for her in aw directions thrilled her, in that hae should care so much for her. Also, she had tae admit that she was enjoying the wee trick she was playing on him, given that she could end his worry in an instant by calling oot tae him.

  Geordie looked back towards the slope yin final time before making his way intae the trees. Hae raised his right arm. In his hand was a spade. Mae hadnae noticed that before. Hae lowered the spade an used it as a walking stick as hae sauntered off intae the thick o trees. Hae stopped some yards away an preceded tae dig. What was this? Was there treasure buried here? An was hae digging it up tae gie tae her? After aw hae knew how much she liked her granny’s jewellery. But didnae hae realise that she had nae need o mair jewellery or whatnot? She loved Granny’s jewellery because it reminded her o her granny. That was why she had shown the wee jewellery kist tae Geordie in the first place. None the less she couldnae help but be excited by the thought o some wonderful present frae her Geordie as a symbol o his deep love for her.

  An judging by the speed that hae was digging away hae was obviously a fine worker, an would undootably be showing his worth up at the farm. The weight o the claggy dirt on the spade wasnae slowing him doon any. Aye, nae doot aboot it hae was a fine strong man. Then she started tae think that hae wasnae exactly sure where the treasure had been buried, because frae deepening the hole hae now began lengthening it. But for the odd wipe o his brow, hae carried on howking away at the hole. Deep hae was digging, but surprisingly long as weel, like a trench, an soon that grand white shirt was sticking tae him an his hair was drookit with sweat. Still hae dug away like a man possessed an questions started appearing in Mae’s heid. At first she chased them away as if they were irritating midges, but like the midges they would come back just as quick, an if anything in ever greater numbers, tae trauchle her aw the mair. ‘What was Geordie up tae? What was this hole for?’

  After a while Mae had tae admit that the size an shape o the hole that Geordie was howking would be ideal for the burying o a body. The thought was nae sooner oot than she recoiled frae it, angry at herself for thinking such a scunnersome thing. After briefly thinking that Geordie was maybe just helping somebody oot that couldnae afford a proper funeral, the whole thing clicked. With a sense o dread an shock she now saw his compliments o her in a different light. An in doing so she began tae realise why hae had wanted her tae dress in the way that hae had requested.

  ‘Weir yer diamond clasp at the front o yer hair, it fair shows up yer bonnie blue eyes.’

  ‘Weir yer amber earrings, it fair shows up yer bonnie auburn hair.’

  ‘Weir yer pearl necklace, it fair shows up yer bonnie white teeth.’

  ‘Weir yer ruby broach, it fair shows up yer bonnie red lips.’

  ‘Weir yer silver rings an gold bracelet, it fair shows up yer long fingers an slender wrists.’

  Little had she kent that when she had opened the kist o jewels for Geordie tae see that the glint in his eye was less tae do with her an mair tae do wi the contents o her granny’s kist.

  Though the sun was still shining, Mae shivered as she realised that the hole was for her, that Geordie meant tae do her in an bury her in the hole, just tae get his dabs on her granny’s jewels. An so Mae clung on tae the bough o thon stout tree as if her life depended on it, because it surely did. Mae was feart tae move a muscle for fear o betraying herself. At times she was even feart tae breathe an would await the rise o the breeze afore she would let go her breath.

  Eventually Geordie finished the hole. Hae pro
pped up the spade against the broad trunk o a tree an ventured oot tae the edge o the trees an sat himself doon below the very tree that Mae was in. As hae sat there with his arms folded, it was as if Mae hung on tae a single moment as she held her breath in her fear. She could see her chest stotting up an doon an she could feel her heart dunting in her lugs, such was her distress. Now she even feared that the wind would shoogle the pearls aboot her thrapple together an gie her away. But the time dragged on as Geordie waited below her tree. Now an again she managed tae get herself intae a state where she could breathe mair or less alright. In doing so she would start tae become aware o things roond aboot her, a bit o birdsong an the like. But the thing that pervaded aw o her awareness was the sweat frae Geordie’s exertions. It was bowfin, she’d never smelt anything like it. It was just plain manky, like something that had died an had been left tae putrefy. An so she clung there, trying tae screw up her nose in an attempt tae stop the scunnersome guff frae getting in. Aw sense o love for him had now entirely dwined away.

  After what seemed like hours, Geordie got himself up an strode back up the hill. Mae was just sclimmin doon frae the tree when hae suddenly swung back roond an glowered at the thick o trees. Mae froze. Her right leg was stretched doon whilst her left was hunkered upwards. Geordie gave a bit o a shoogle o his heid before resuming up the hill. It wasnae until hae had disappeared ower the brow that Mae minded how tae breathe again.

  Geordie was never seen again in the district. It was said that hae had never even gone back tae the farm for the wages that were due tae him. When folk asked Mae what had happened tae him, she told them aboot the hole hae had dug for her. It wasnae a nice story for her tae tell aboot herself, but she realised that the mair she told it the less likely that Geordie would ever dare tae show his face in this part again. For stories had an awfie lot o power in those days. Yin or twae folk would ask, ‘Did ye ever see his feet?’