More Angus Rhymes

 Like many other posts, this is a hotch-potch of information very loosely tied by a single theme (more often than not tied up with a shoogly knot). But, while many posts have been lovingly mined from a selection of sources, this one derives from one ancient article: 'Popular Rhymes of Forfarshire,' published in the Aberdeen Journal Notes & Queries, 1912, written by David Grewar.

   Much of Grewar's material was sourced from Robert Chambers' venerable Popular Rhymes of Scotland (3rd edition published 1870), a wonderful compendium of nationwide folklore. Other bits have evidently come from our local Victorian historians Alexander Warden and Andrew Jervise. Links to my two previous posts on local rhymes can be found at the end of this article. 

   Unlike many other pieces of folklore, many rhymes which have survived have only done that by accident and are passed down or recorded in fragmentary form, and we can only guess at their original context. At best, they provide a fleeting glimpse into long-vanished places, events or practices. Even when they stir up more questions than answers, these short snippets, like mosaic pieces, can be very evocative. The benison or standing toast given by the deacon of the craft of weavers of Arbroath at their meetings warmly extended good fortune to other occupations which were important to the burgh:

The life o' man, the death o' fish,

the shuttle, soil and ploo;

corn, horn, linen, yarn,

lint an' tarry oo!

   To the west of Arbroath are East Haven and West Haven in Panbride parish, and the following rhyme extols the virtues of a particular ale-house, whose staple tipple bestowed upon its drinker a particular keeness of thought (not usually the case with alcohol):

East Ha'en's ale's gude,

West Hae'en's ale's strang,

But Eppie Ramsay's ale

Maks me think lang

   The following dittay would have fitted nicely into my previous article about children's games - 'Bairn Sangs' (link below), had I known about it at the time. 

I set my foot on Airlie's green,

An' Airlie daurna tak me;

I canna get time to steer my brose,

For Airlie's trying to catch me.

    This snippet of verse is explained as part of a game played by children in Brechin. The Ogilvy family of Airlie Castle apparently owned a small plot of land in Brechin. In the game, a chosen child stood in a marked off piece of land, Airlie's Acre, and tried to grab the other children who darted in and out of this plot. When a child was caught, he or she took the place of the first child and tried to catch the others. 

Forter Castle, Glenisla

    Another children's rhyme from Brechin is below. Prior to 1845, licensed beggars paraded the city's streets each Thursday, loudly asking for alms. The reference to Friday is because it was a popular day for weddings.

Fuirsday's the puir's day,

Friday's the bride's day,

And Saturday we get to play.

   The children of Dundee in the early nineteenth century used to taunt a poor carter in the burgh who was a target because of his strange appearance. He was called Harrow because of his ling and strange looking teeth. His horses were always poor looking specimens. A surviving anecdote syas he was suprised when a horse he bought in the country was able to distinguish between oats and sawdust.

Will Harrow,

Deil a marrow.

   The following verse is said to have been composed by an eccentric man named William Candow, who collected and sold eggs in the Kilry district of Glenisla:

    I gaed aboot frae toon tae toon

    An' ca'd the Derrys up an' doon,

    The Cotton too an' Mailnacraig,

    I got my ca' but fient an egg.

   Unfortunately William perished in a tragic accident. The following article is from The Glasgow Herald, 31st December, 1855, summarising a report from a Dundee newspaper:

    Another rhyme from Glenisla which has survived, albeit without the context which would explain the full meaning is below. It seems to be part of a longer poem detailing some long ago tragedy

I'll be lost in Isla water,

I'll be found in Isla stream;

Bonnie Bawbie's me forgotten,

Man an' horse she's sent me nane.

   I note that the name Bonnie Bawbie occurs in an unrelated ballad set in Garioch, Aberdeenshire, titled 'The Skranky Black Farmer.'

   The following geographical rhyme makes limited sense (to me at least). Grewar states that it reflects the humourous view of an inhabitant of west Angus regarding the prospects or the principal characteristics of those who live in the four compass points from where he lives. (I believe the word 'fidgin' may relate to the word 'fidgity'):

East for brose,

Wast for religion,

Sooth for sair wark,

An' north for fidgin'.

   Why the different areas should be characterised in the rhyme is unknown. I can only guess that the 'sair work' in the south refers to the labour in the mills and factories of Dundee.

   There were probably once a large number of local rhymes relating to the weather, as being foretold from the local landscape, but most of these have now vanished. The following comes from Lundie near the mouth of the Tay:

       When the sands o' Barrie cry - it's rain,

       The Hard o' Keiller - it's frost again.

   David Grewer adds this explanation: 'When country people some distance inland from this part of the coast hear the sound of the breakers in the direction of Barry - that is to gthe southward - they expect a freshet, or rain in the winter season. On the contrary, if the sound comes from the direction of the mouth of the KeillerBurn, to the northward, hard weather is to be expected. In other inland parts of the county a somewhat similar belief prevails. If on a winter evening, the sound of a southerly running stream comes from the north, the common remark is, "The soon o' the water's up; it's to be frost." If on the contrary the sound emanates from the south, "The soond o' the water's doon; it's to be fresh" is the remark, if frost then revails.' 

   Many rhymes particularly in the east and north-east Scotland are attributed to the rather gloomy predictions of Thomas the Rhymer and the following was found in the area of Carmoustie:

        The braes o' Fettermore,

        Hae been a guid ship-shore.

An alternative version ran:

        The braes o' Fettermore,

        Again shall be a guid ship-shore.

   We finish off with an addition to the rhyme already previously given about the great hero William Wallace, who is supposed to have campaigned in the region north of Dundee:

                                                       Wallace pitched his camp on Clatto Hill,
                                                       and ground his corn at Philaw's Mill.

   An alternative verse runs:

                                           

                                                      Wallace encamped at Tothil Hill,
                                                      And ground his corn at Falla Mill.

   

   Never mind the fact that Wallace, in all likelihood, never did any succh thing!

Previous Related Posts

A Mixed Bag of Rhymes

A Mixed Bag of Rhymes (Part Two)

Bairn Sangs - Children's Rhymes and Games 

                                                 William Wallace Was a Dundee Schoolboy 

 

The 'Murder' of Margaret Warden

 The case of Mary Elder, tried for murder of her servant Margaret Warren, has been summerised in many places in the nearly two centuries since the event. The case attracted authors like William Roughead in Twelve Scottish Trials (1913) and Haunted Dundee by A. H. Millar (1923). Even before that, there was a popular ballad floating around Dundee and south Angus entitled 'The Wife o' Denside', which had no doubt about the guilt of Mary Elder. (The version from Haunted Dundee is copied below.) The case also gained wider notoriety by a broadside pamphlet printed in Edinburgh soon after the trial there in 1828. Among the spectators in the court room was a certain Sir Walter Scott.

   The basic facts in the case is that Margaret Warden, a twenty-five year old servant to Mary Elder and David Smith of West Denside, Monikie, near Dundee, had died suspiciously after being adminsitered some drinks by elder. The poison was supposed to have been administered on 5th September, 1826, with Margaret dying three days later. The details were summarised in the contemporary broadside:

the deceased turned unwell on Tuesday, and that the prisoner
gave her something to drink of a whitish colour, in a
large dram glass, with a peace of sugar to take after it, about nine
o'clock at night, which she swallowed, and went to bed. That she
turned ill before morning, complaining much of her inside, and suf-
fering from thirst; and, on drinking water, which she always cried
for, saying her inside was burning, she immediately threw it up:
That the prisoner, on Thursday night, a witness observed, came and
asked the deceased if she thought a drap whisky would be good
for her, to which the witness, Jean Norrie, a fellow servant,who
slept with the deceased, replied, that she had got enough of that,
or something else, she could not tell what, for such purging and
vomiting she never before had seen. That Margaret Warden's
mother was sent for and came to see her on Friday forenoon, the
day she died, and said to this witness, in presence of her mother and. I
Ann Gruar, another witness, 'you ken wha has been the occasion
of my lying here, but dinna say nathing; they will get their re-
wards, but I forgive them.' That she died that night at 9 o'clock,
and her body appeared of a blackish colour.

   The background to the household was the key to what transpired. David Smith was a great deal older than his forty-two year old wife and does not seem to have been involved in what transpired. Margaret Warden was one of several servants who stayed there. She was also pregnant, allegedly by a son of the household, George Smith. There was another son and two daughters in the family. One daughter lived with her parents; the other was the farm foreman's wife. Apart from Margaret Warden, there was another female servant under the same room, Jean Norrie, though there were other servants and employees who did not sleep in. 

   In the year previous to her death, Margaret had her first pregnancy and went back home to her mother in Baldovie. Mary Elder visited her several times, and, following some harsh words and discussion, had her back at Denside after the child was born. Whether the father of this bairn was Margaret's son is not known. In 1826, Margaret and George Smith became romantically involved, and Mary was outraged and put the servant out of the house. After a fraught meeting at her mother's house, full of anger and accusation, Mary stated she would go to Dundee and 'would get something for Margaret' there. Margaret went back to Denside that night. It was inferred that Mary was bringing something which would terminate the pregnancy. 

Modern building at West Denside

   On the evening of Tuesday 5th September, 1826, Mary Elder came to Margaret in the presence of Jean Norrie, around 10 o'clock, and gave her a drink in a dram glass. It was a thick white mixture. Margaret drank it and also took a small lump of sugar to dispell its bitter taste. She was seriously ill during the night and next morning she was too sick to work. Jean asked that night if their mistress had been attending to her. 'Rather too weel,' Margaret said. When Jean said she feared her friend was dying, Margaret replied, 'Some folks would be glad o' that.' On Elder suggesting that Margaret take some whisky, Jean voiced her suspicions and said that Margaret 'had got eneuch o' that or some ither thing, she could not tell what, for sik a purgin' an' vomitin' she never saw'. Margaret said the goodwife had already given her whisky, which was burning her insides. In private, Jean advised Margaret to take nothing further from their mistress. 

When it was clear that Margaret's condition was life-threatening, her mother was sent for a doctor was summoned from Broughty Ferry. When he arrived, Dr Taylor asked if she had been given any medicine and was told she had only been administered castor oil. He asked why no doctor had been summoned earlier and was told that the patient was 'a light-headed cutty' whose complaints were not taken seriously. When it seemed clear there was no hope or treatment for her, the doctor left, believing his patient was dying with cholera. In her final hours, Margaret informed her friend Jean that the person responsible for her condition would 'get their reward'. At nine in the evening she died, just as she was trying to tell her mother what 'medicine' Mary Elder had administered to her.

   Margaret Warden was buried on Sunday 10th September. Rumours began circulating in the area that Margaret's death was connected with the fact that she was pregant by George Smith. Several weeks later she was disinterred and the body disected in the kirk-yard. Some particles of poison were taken from her stomach. Dr Taylor said that the accused had repeatedly enquired if Margaret's violent vomiting would cause an abortion, adding, 'I dinna care though such a thing [a miscarriage] should happen, for the gude man would tear down the house if he ken'd it.' Mary Elder was questioned by the sheriff in Dundee and, despite denying poisoning her servant, was placed in jail there. 

  The trial took place on Monday 19th February, 1827, and it attracted wide attention from people in Edinburgh, among them Walter Scott, who wrote in his journal:

Dined at Sir John Hay's, where met the Advocate
and a pleasant party. There had been a Justiciary trial
yesterday, in which something curious had occurred. A
woman of rather the better class, a farmer's wife, had been
tried on the 5th for poisoning her maid-servant. There seems
to have been little doubt of her guilt, but the motive was
peculiar. The unfortunate girl had an intrigue with her son,
which this Mrs. Smith was desirous to conceal, from some
ill-advised puritanic notions, and also for fear of her husband.
She could find no better way of hiding the shame than giving
the girl (with her own knowledge and consent, I believe)
potions to cause abortion, which she afterwards changed for
arsenic, as the more effectual silencing medicine. In the
course of the trial one of the jury fell down in an epileptic
fit, and on his recovery was far too much disordered to permit
the trial to proceed. With only fourteen jurymen it was
impossible to go on. But the advocate, Sir William Eae,
says she shall be tried anew, since she has not tholed an
assize. Sic Paulus ait—et rede quidcm. But, having been
half-tried, I think she should have some benefit of it, as far
as saving her life, if convicted on the second indictment.
The advocate declares, however, she shall be hanged, as
certainly she deserves. But it looks something like hanging
up a man who has been recovered by the surgeons, which
has always been accounted harsh justice.

   

Defence lawyer Francis Jeffrey in 1825

   The defence at the trial contended that the young woman had committed suicide. Despite plenty of witnesses piling up corrobarative circumstantial evidence, and the widespread belief that Mary Elder had the motivation, means and opportunity to get rid of her awkwardly pregnant servant, the jury did not wholehertedly agree. Witnesses included Dr Dick, an old friend of the accused who said that Mary had asked him to procure arsenic for rats which were plaguing the farm. The lads who slept in the bothy at Denside vehemently denied there was any rodent problem there. The eloquent closing defence given by Francis Jeffrey was delivered to jurors at one in the morning.

  Next day the jury delivered the verdict 'not proven'. Some culpability was suspected, but guilt could not be established. Or it may be that they mostly believed she was trying to end the life of the unborn child rather than its mother, and for this she did not deserve death. For one, Walter Scott was outraged by this:

At Court, and waited to see the poisoning woman. She is clearly guilty,
but as one or two witnesses said the poor wench hinted an
intention to poison herself, the jury gave that bastard verdict,
Not Proven. I hate that Caledonian medium quid. One who is
not proven guilty is innocent in the eye of the law. It was a face
to do or die, or perhaps to do to die. Thin features, which had
been handsome, a flashing eye, an acute and aquiline nose, lips
much marked, as arguing decision and, I think, bad temper
— they were thin and habitually compressed, rather turned down
at the corners, as one of a rather melancholy disposition.
There was an awful crowd; but sitting within the bar, I had
the pleasure of seeing much at my ease ; the constables
knocking the other folks about, which was of course very
entertaining.

   Scott also remarked, more pithily, after the trial, 'Well, sirs! All I can say is, if that woman was my wife, I should take care to be my own cook.'

  A. H. Millar transcribed the ballad about the supposed murderer in 1884 from an old bed-ridden lady named Barbara Hodge, living at Downfield in Dunee, who was one of the witnesses at the trial. She had formerly been a servant alongside lamented Margaret Warden at Denside. And she had no doubt about her former employer's guilt.

THE WIFE O’ DENSIDE.

Ye'll a’ ha’e heard tell o’ the Wife o’ Denside,
Ye’ve surely heard word o’ the Wife o’ Denside,
Wha pushioned her maid to keep up her pride,
An’ the Deevil is sure o’ the Wife o’ Denside.

The Wife o’ Denside, the little wee buddie,
She tried to tak’ up the trade o’ the howdie,
But ah! ha, ha! her skill was but sma’,
For she pushioned baith lassie an’ bairn an’ a’.



Her tippet was brown and her veil it was black,
An’ three lang feathers hung ower her back,
Wi’ her purse by her side fu’ o’ guineas sae free
That saved her frae death at the Cross o’ Dundee.



Oh! Jeffrey, oh! Jeffrey, ye hinna dune fair,
For ye’ve robbed the gallows o’ its ain lawfu’ heir.
An’ it hadna been you an’ your great muckle fee
She’d hae hung like a trout at the Cross o’ Dundee!

Further Reading

Nigel Gatherer, Songs and Ballads of Dundee, John Donald, Edinburgh, 2000.

Forbes Inglis, Murders and Misdeeds: Angus and Dundee, 1765-1900, The Pinkfoot Press, Balgavies, 2013.

A. H. Millar, Haunted Dundee, Malcolm C. McLeod, Dundee, 1923.

William Roughead, Twelve Scottish Trials, William Green & Sons, Edinburgh & London, 1913.