Scottish Traditional Tales
Page 1
SCOTTISH
TRADITIONAL TALES
Edited by
Alan Bruford
and
Donald A. MacDonald
This edition published in 2003 by
Birlinn Limited
West Newington House
10 Newington Road
Edinburgh EH9 1QS
www.birlinn.co.uk
Reprinted 2011, 2014
First published in 1994 by Polygon, Edinburgh
Copyright © Donald A. MacDonald and the Estate of Alan J. Bruford 1994
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical or photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN 978 1 84158 264 1
Printed and bound by Grafica Veneta
www.graficaveneta.com
CONTENTS
Tales with an asterisk have been translated from Gaelic; if the storyteller’s name has a dagger, the tale has been taken from a manuscript rather than a tape-recorded source. Some titles have been supplied by the collector or editor rather than the storyteller: if this is known to be so the title is bracketed in the Notes.
Introduction Alan Bruford
CHILDREN’S TALES
1a The Old Man with the Ear of Corn* Dolly Ann MacDougall, Colonsay
1b The Old Man with the Grain of Barley* Kate Dix, Berneray-Harris
2 The Grey Goat* Hugh MacKinnon, Eigg
3a The Fox and the Wolf and the Butter* Calum Johnston, Barra
3b The Cats and the Christening Tom Tulloch, Yell
4 The Boy and the Brüni Tom Tulloch
5 The Wee Bird jimmy McPhee, Perthshire
6 Liver and Lights Jeannie Durie, Fife†
FORTUNE TALES
7 Silly Jack and the Lord’s Daughter Jeannie Robertson, Aberdeen
8 The Tale of the Brown Calf* Elizabeth MacKinnon†/Annie Johnston, Barra
9 The Three Feathers Andrew Stewart, Perthshire
10 The Green Man of Knowledge Geordie Stewart, Aberdeenshire
11 Lasair Gheug, the King of Ireland’s Daughter* Mrs MacMillan, Strathtay†
12 Sùil-a-Dia and Sùil-a-Sporain* Donald Alasdair Johnson, S. Uist
13 Ceann Suic* Christine Fleming, Berneray-Harris
14 The Captain of the Black Ship* Angus John MacPhail, N. Uist
15 The Three Good Advices Andrew Stewart
HERO TALES
16 The Story of the Cook* Alasdair Stewart, E. Ross
17 Conall Gulbann* Angus MacLellan, S. Uist
18 The Man in the Cassock* Duncan MacDonald, S. Uist
19 The Story of Ossian* Alasdair ‘Brian’ Stewart, E. Ross
20 The Princess and the Pups Betsy Whyte, Montrose
TRICKSTER TALES
21 The History of Kitty Ill-Pretts Jeannie Durie, Fife†
22 Riobaidh and Robaidh and Brionnaidh* Neil Gillies, Barra
23 The Butler’s Son* Samuel Thorburn, Skye
24 The Farmer Who Went Back on his Agreement* Angus John MacPhail, N. Uist
25 Willie Take-a-Seat* Revd Norman MacDonald, Skye
26 The Parson’s Sheep Gilbert Voy, Orkney/Glasgow
27 How to Diddle George Jamieson, Selkirk
28 The Tailor and his Wife* Alasdair Stewart, E. Ross
29 The Wren* Alasdair Stewart (‘Aili Dall’), Sutherland
OTHER CLEVERNESS, STUPIDITY AND NONSENSE
30a The King’s Three Questions* Angus Henderson, Mull
30b The King and the Miller John Stewart, Perthshire
30c Donald and the Skull* Donald John MacKinnon, Barra
31 The One-Eyed Miller and the Dumb Englishman* Colin Morrison, Lewis
32 The Poor Man’s Clever Daughter* Peter Stewart, Lewis
33 Silly Jack and the Factor Jeannie Robertson, Aberdeen
34 The Wandering Piper Willie McPhee, Perthshire
35 Cailleach nan Cnù and Tàillear nan Clàr* Alasdair MacArthur, Islay
36 The Minister and the Straw Tom Tulloch, Yell
37 Strunty Pokes Jeannie Durie, Fife†
38 The Flayed Horse Tom Tulloch
39 Keep a Cool Head! David Work, Shapinsay
FATE, MORALS AND RELIGION
40 The Skipper Who Marooned a Girl* Peter Morrison, Grimsay
41 The Herdie Boy James Henderson, S. Ronaldsay
42 Turning the Sark Tom Moncrieff, Shetland
43 The Stolen Blankets Jack Cockburn, Berwickshire
44a The Sanday Man’s Drowning Willie Ritch, Stronsay
44b The Stronsay Man’s Drowning Tom Stevenson, Stronsay
45 Ham and Eggs Roderick MacKenzie, S. Ronaldsay
46 Paring Cheese Ethel Findlater, Orkney
47 Christ and the Hens and Ducks* Roderick MacDonald, N. Uist
48 Why the Beetle is Blind Duncan Williamson, Argyll/Fife
49 The Man Who Stopped Going to Church* Angus MacLeod, Lewis
50 The King of Halifax* Donald Alasdair Johnson, S. Uist
51 St Fillan and the White Snake* Duncan Matheson, Kintail
ORIGIN AND DIDACTIC LEGENDS
52 The Hugboy Mrs J.J. Leith, Orkney
53 Dubh a’ Ghiubhais* Ann Munro, W. Ross
54 The Pabbay Mother’s Ghost* Nan MacKinnon, Vatersay
55a Luran and Iaras* Duncan MacDonald, S. Uist †
55b Luran* Calum Johnston, Barra
55c Peerie Merran’s Spün Tom Tulloch, Yell
56 Black John of the Blizzard* Angus MacKenzie, N. Uist
LEGENDS OF GHOSTS AND EVIL SPIRITS
57 MacPhail of Uisinnis* Duncan MacDonald, S. Uist†
58 Mór Princess of Lochlann* Duncan MacDonald†
59 Myze Keys Tom Tulloch, Yell
60a Alasdair Mór mac Iain Làidir* Donald Alec MacEachen, Benbecula
60b The Night Fishermen* Mary MacLean, Grimsay
61 MacPhee’s Black Dog* Peter MacCormick, Benbecula
62a Airidh an t-Sluic* Duncan MacDonald†
62b The Cock and the Skipper Tom Robertson, Shetland
63 Tarbh na Leòid* Donald MacDougall, N. Uist
LEGENDS OF FAIRIES AND SEA-FOLK
64a Dancing in the Fairy Hill* Alasdair MacDougall, Lochaber
64b The Fiddler o Gord George Peterson, Papa Stour
65 The Humph at the Fit o the Glen . . . Bella Higgins, Perthshire
66a The Thirsty Ploughman* Kate Dix, Berneray-Harris
66b The Hungry Ploughman* Duncan MacDonald, S. Uist†
67 The Tale of the Cauldron* Calum Johnston, Barra
68 Baking in Creag Hàstain* Donald MacDougall, N. Uist
69a Johnnie in the Cradle Andrew Stewart, Perthshire
69b A Fairy Changeling Nan MacKinnon, Vatersay
70a A Woman Saved from the Fairies* Angus MacLellan, S. Uist
70b A Dead Wife among the Fairies Sydney Scott, N. Ronaldsay
71 A Man Lifted by the Sluagh* Angus MacMillan, Benbecula
72 A Man with a Fairy Lover* Nan MacKinnon
73a The Fairy Suitor Foiled* Kate Dix
73b Keeping Out the Sea Man James Henderson, S. Ronaldsay
74 MacCodrum’s Seal Wife* Donald MacDougall
75 Rescued by a Seal Mrs Anderson, Fetlar
76 The Limpet Pick Andrew Hunter, Shetland
77 The Magic Island James Henderson
78 The Last Trow in Yell Tom Tulloch, Yell
LEGENDS OF WITCHCRAFT
79 The Broonie Betsy Whyte, Montrose
80 ‘London Again!’* Angus MacLellan, S. Uist
81 The Tailor and the Fishing Wives* Peter Morrison, Grimsay
82
Duart’s Daughter* Nan MacKinnon, Vatersay
83a The Three Knots* Donald MacLellan, N. Uist
83b The Three Knots Andrew Hunter, Shetland
84 Dark Lachlan and the Witches* William Matheson, N. Uist
85 John MacLachlan and the Girl* Donald Sinclair, Tiree
86 The Dancing Reapers* William MacDonald, Arisaig
87a The Borrowed Peats Tom Moncrieff, Shetland
87b The Borrowed Peats* Nan MacKinnon, Vatersay
88 Milk in a Tangle* Nan MacKinnon
ROBBERS, ARCHERS AND CLAN FEUDS
89 The Girl Who Killed the Raiders* Malcolm Robertson, N. Uist
90 Spòg Bhuidhe* Donald MacDougall, N. Uist
91 Dark Finlay of the Deer* John Finlayson, Lochalsh
92 Gille-Pàdruig Dubh* Duncan MacDonald, S. Uist†
93 Gaun Tait and the Bear Tom Tulloch, Yell
94 The Earl of Mar a Fugitive* John MacDonald, Lochaber
95a Paul of the Thong* Angus MacLellan, N. Uist
95b Murchadh Gearr’s Birth* Donald Morrison, Mull
95c Murchadh Gearr’s Return Donald Morrison
96 The Battle of Tràigh Ghruinneart* Gilbert Clark, Islay
SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY
NOTES
INDEX OF STORYTELLERS
Alan Bruford
INTRODUCTION
TRADITIONAL STORYTELLING
All over the world traditional tales used to be told at the fireside, or whatever marked the centre of a family’s life, until their place came to be taken in developed societies by books, newspapers, the radio and most recently television. They are still told in pubs and clubs, lounges and waiting-rooms, on trains or boats or anywhere that people meet, though most of us may not think of jokes, shaggy-dog stories, tall tales, contemporary legends or ghost stories as ‘folktales’, certainly not as anything like ‘fairy-tales’. All the same, they are, and they can be just as old. For instance, ten or twelve years ago, Bob, one of the servitors who kept the door at the School of Scottish Studies – the research and teaching department of the University of Edinburgh where Donald A. MacDonald and I work and whose archives are the source of all the stories in this book – told me a story he had heard from a comedian in an Edinburgh club. It was about two Irish twins called Pat and Mike who had been put in different classes at the same school. Pat was just a bit too clever, and his teacher decided to take him down a peg. He set him three questions to answer: ‘How deep is the sea?’ ‘How heavy is the moon?’ and ‘What am I thinking?’ If he couldn’t bring him the right answers after school next Monday, he wouldn’t be allowed on the class excursion.
Next Monday the boy turned up, and the teacher asked him: ‘How far is it to the bottom of the sea?’
‘A stone’s throw.’
‘I suppose I can’t argue with that. Well, how heavy is the moon?’
‘It must be a hundredweight.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘Well, there are four quarters in it, aren’t there?’
‘That’s very clever, but answer me this. What am I thinking?’
‘You’re thinking I’m Pat, but I’m his brother Mike.’
Like any story told from memory, that story has details that I put in myself when I could not remember what Bob said, and some of them may come from similar versions I have read,1 but it went something like that. Basically it is the same story as ‘The King’s Three Questions’ (No. 30 below), a version of which was first written down in Egypt in the ninth century AD, about the same time that the tale we know as ‘Cinderella’ was first written down in China, as a story told by southern barbarians about a girl who lived in a cave and was helped by a magic fish.2
In 1976 Dr Ann Silver wrote to The Scots Magazine about a story she remembered from her childhood in Ayrshire; the magazine printed her letter under the heading ‘An Ayrshire Tale’.3
My great grandmother who was born in Mauchline about 1835 taught my mother a story which is known in the family as ‘start to your strunterfers’. We have never met anyone else who has heard of it nor have we seen a written version. The gist of the story is this: One day the Mistress of the house went into the kitchen and asked the Cook how she referred to the Master. The Cook said: ‘The Master or the Maister or Himself or anything you please, m’em.’ The Mistress then said, ‘In future you will call him the Master above all Masters,’ to which the Cook answered ‘Very good, m’em.’
(This dialogue is then repeated, the Cook being given words for the Master’s trousers (strunterfers), the Mistress (Lady Peerapolemaddam), the kitchen range (Vengeance), the cat (Old Calgravatus), the river (The River above all Rivers) and the house (The Castle of St. Mungo).)
That night as the Cook was sitting by the kitchen range a coal fell out on the cat. The Cook ran to the bottom of the stairs and called to the Master: ‘Master above all Masters, start to your strunterfers, waken Lady Peerapolemaddam, for Vengeance has seized Old Calgravatus and unless assistance be procured from the River above all Rivers, the Castle of St. Mungo is doomed.’
Can anyone tell me if this is a well-established Ayrshire story, and whether it is written down anywhere? I would love to know how to spell these extraordinary words.
The editor of the magazine, Maurice Fleming, asked if I could help, and I was able to say that though it had never before been written down in this form (the words are spelt here as Dr Silver wrote them) the story is again an international folktale type, No. 1562A ‘The Barn is Burning’ in the Aarne-Thompson (AT) index, which lists versions from Russia, Lithuania, Czechoslovakia, France, Italy, Spain, Chile, the Caribbean and the USA, as well as Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales. In 1936 most of the versions in English, Scots, Irish and Welsh were analysed in the journal Folklore by Kenneth Jackson, later Professor of Celtic at the University of Edinburgh,4 who deduced that the story had first been made up in the late Middle Ages to make fun of laymen who pretended to know more Church Latin than they really did. So the water may be called ‘Pondolorum’ (with a Latin ending) in one version and ‘Absolution’ (which washes away sin in Catholic belief) in another, and similarly the fire may be called ‘Hot Cockalorum’ or ‘Fire Evangelist’ – ‘Vengeance’ is probably corrupted from this phrase, in the same way as ‘send reinforcements’ is said to have changed to ‘send three and fourpence’ by being passed from soldier to soldier in the trenches, though here the result is an improvement: ‘Vengeance has seized Old Calgravatus’ is the most impressive way I know of saying ‘the cat’s on fire’. As for Old Calgravatus himself, he seems to bear a mediaeval name for a wonderful cat that has only survived otherwise, as far as I know, in the Gaelic of South Uist, as Cugrabhat, or Gugtrabhad, the king of the cats in story No. 12 below.
Jackson had only found two versions from Scotland, one with just the words of the cook’s message in Robert Chambers’ Popular Rhymes of Scotland from the beginning of the last century, the other published by the great folklorist from the north-east of Scotland, the Revd Walter Gregor, in the 1880s; we had just printed a third tale No. 37 below. After Dr Silver’s letter and my note on it appeared in The Scots Magazine, a Stirlingshire woman sent a version of the story to the magazine, a Lanarkshire man sent one to me, and a Canadian woman sent one she had heard as a child as ‘a recording of what was called simply a Scottish story’, so the score was doubled, and we got an English version from a woman near York.5 If any reader who has heard the story, other than from a book, would like to send their version in, we might easily double the score for Scotland again.
That story was heard by Dr Silver in childhood, and Bob’s story was about schoolboys, but neither of them was designed to be told only to children. This is a popular misconception about folktales or at least ‘fairy-tales’. Very few traditional tales are meant only for children: the first eight in this book are the only stories in it that would normally have been told to children under the age of eight or nine: the rest were intended for adults. Storytelling, in communities where it was a r
egular entertainment, was generally something that happened in the late evenings, when small children would have been in bed; older ones might be allowed to listen but could well drop off to sleep and leave the really adult stories to be told to an adult audience last thing at night. Many of the best traditional storytellers started to pick up the stories they told around the age of nine or ten, and many of these were ‘fairy-tales’ or international ‘wonder-tales’ on the lines of ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ or ‘Beauty and the Beast’, which were not generally thought of as being only for children. In some societies, including most African tribes and the travelling people of Scotland, all stories were believed to have an educational function as well as being entertaining, so they were directed particularly at adolescents, who might pick up hints from them, at least on how to face the wider world with confidence and optimism: but they would also be appreciated by older people who had heard them before.
It may be more important to remember that where fireside storytelling flourished mainly in post-mediaeval Europe, among working people in the country, it was not generally used to entertain people who were there just to listen, like the audience at a play or a modem storytelling festival. Certainly people would sometimes travel some distance to hear a particularly famous narrator or story, but in Scotland most stories were heard either in the home or at furthest in the township’s ‘ceilidh house’, and, apart from younger children, most members of the audience would be making or mending something as they listened. Walter Gregor, describing ‘evenings in the farm kitchen’ when he was a boy in Highland Banffshire over 150 years ago,6 emphasised that ‘all were busy. One of the women might be knitting, another making, and another mending, some article of dress. Of the men, one might be making candles from bog-fir – cleavin can’les – another manufacturing harrow-tynes of wood, a third sawing brogues, and a fourth weaving with the cleeck a pair of mittens.’ Apart from this last, the men’s occupations were typical of these wooded uplands, and the slivers of bog-fir used to light the room are a local speciality. In coastal communities men might be mending fishing-nets or making creels, or anyone of either sex might be baiting small-lines to go out next morning. Women might also be carding or spinning wool, and Gregor mentions that neighbours might visit the family, ‘geein thim a forenicht. On such occasions it was no unusual thing for the young women to carry with them their spinning-wheels on their shoulders, and their wool or flax under their arms.’7 On the larger farms men might be mending harness or polishing horse-brasses for a show, or twisting ropes of straw, rushes, heather, bent-grass or hair for use about the farm, and in the woodless Northern Isles weaving these in turn into baskets, mats and nets. Even the storyteller might be employed in this way: from the niece of Angus MacLellan from South Uist, well-represented in this collection, we recorded a hilarious account of MacLellan winding heather rope as he told stories (interspersed with songs) throughout a winter’s evening ‘till eleven o’clock, and you couldn’t see him at last for the heather rope all round him – coiled round his chair’.8 However, Donald Alasdair Johnson’s father, a generation earlier in the same island, was able to insist on the spinning-wheels and wool-cards being silenced while he performed:9 he was evidently a star who could attract a dozen visitors to his croft kitchen, and not every ceilidh house would have been so strictly run.