The Fields Have Names

   This post, like many others, might be categorised as a provisional piece, based as it is on a limited amount of information in my possession. I have considered place-names before of course, in past articles such as The Musical Magic of Place-Names. I have also lamented (or moaned) about the dearth of academic studies of place-names in Angus compared with other areas better served in this way. I will doubtless moan about this again in the future, as the mood takes me.

I hope to enlarge this current article when evidence more on the subject eventually arrives. Many parts of Scotland have a substrata of place-names given over to fields, and it is possible that these are understudied. What definitely seems to be true is that there has been no systematic study of field names in Angus. Much of what follows (piecemeal as it is) has been gleaned from Colin Gibson's long-running 'Nature Diary' in the Dundee Courier.

    Landscape Features, Monetary Value

 

   Many, perhaps most, field-names would have been named after prominent local landscape features, which could be as simple as haugh, ley, rig, park, flat, butt, rig. One of these is Whiteleys Park, Airlie. Otherwise, the names could reference other simple features. These names might easily identify specific fields for those called on to work there. Examples of this include Crippleshade (in Carmyllie area, referencing a cripple-gap placed in a wall to allow sheep to pass through), Paterscrede in Lunan (apparently signifying a low, turfy field). The Harey (Arbirlot or Carmyllie) took its designation from a boundary stone. Glutty signified a flood-prone field, as did another field called Fluthers. Merklands obviously relates to price, as does Twenty Pennies. Other fields may have been named after long-gone tenants or owners

                                                       Animal Names

  A few of these can be noted straight off. Teuchat's Wood was another Angus field name, from the south of the county, named of course after the habitat of the lapwing. Fawn's Castle was a field at Drumbertnot, Lunan, and there may be many more field-names of this sort (as well as other topographical features) named after birds and beasts. There is Sheep's Haugh, near Kirriemuir, a name which is almost certainly not unique.

                                             Vanished Buildings

Judging from the field names which have survived, none of them qualify as being genuinely ancient. Some may represent original Gaelic names but none (that I know of) might be called Pictish. Despite that, they are valuable in some instances in showing where there was once a croft, a doocot, or some other ediface perhaps. The College at Kellyfield, Arbirlot, is sometimes cited as the site of an ecclesiastical building associated with Arbroath Abbey or its Celtic predecessor. Kirk Shade at The Gask, Letham, is also reckoned to recall a vanished ecclesiastic building. 

                                               Stranger Names

   Many of the following names many be readily decipherable to some people (and I welcome suggestions), though other meanings may have been lost in the haar of time. There was a field named The Zeppelin which remembered an incident when a German dirigible dropped bombs harmlessly on that plot of land during World War One. I do not know the details behind this incident unfortunately. At Invergowrie, on the Perthshire border, there was Hole Field on Home Farm, named after the alarming and sudden appearance of a great chasm in the ground there. 

A field named Blue Breeks was surmised by Colin Gibson to have originally been called Bare Breeks, a sly commentary on the infertility of that place. There is a field named Paradise in Arbirlot; why it was called this is a mystery. Other unexplained names include The Dourie, The Brogie, The Milner, Moor o' Scare (at Courthill), and the magnificent Gruggle o' the Wad at Carmyllie. The farm of Balcalk at Tealing had the following named fields: Paisline, Crapodale, Hatton Well, Knockmarumple, Tilliehaggleton, Crap Angry. Scroggie and Cannon Den were at Lunan. A field near Forfar was called The Gowpens, signifying two handfuls of corn. The Deil's Knap at Lunan possibly recalls the old Goodman's Crofts, a parcel of land set aside as an insurance policy to the Devil as an insurance for the fertility of the rest of the farm. 

Strathmartine, looking towards the Tay

This post has used (among other sources) material from Colin Gibson's articles in The Courier on Saturday 15 July 1989, Saturday 12 June 1993, Saturday 15 October 1994.

The Ghost-Hunter in Angus - The Dangerous Dream of Elliott O'Donnell

I wrote not long ago about a ghost which haunted Newmanswalls House in Montrose. There was no solution to the rather short tradition of a ghost there. This piece also ends indecisively in the same town, but first looks at the experiences of Elliott O'Donnell (1872-1965) wrote many books about ghosts. His most substantial investigation into ghosts in our area was a study about Glamis Castle which is contained in his Scottish Ghost Stories (1912). I also wrote of his thoughts in a previous post called The Secret Tunnel of Lintrose. The following stories come from his book Confessions of A Ghost Hunter (London, 1928).

   Following schooling in Bristol, O'Donnell came to Angus around the year 1890, learning farming somewhere near Montrose. He resided with an unnamed 'gentleman farmer' and one day the farmer and family took a wagonette on a day out to visit a ruined castle, with O'Donnell following behind on a bicycle. On the way there, O'Donnell unluckily suffered a puncture, which he mended quickly and set off again, hoping to catch up with the farmer's family. Pedalling furiously, he came to a downhill stretch of road and was suddenly overwhelmed with the conviction that he recognised this place, which he had certainly never visited before. Then it came back to him - he had recurrently dreamed of this exact landscape for several years. The scene, as he describes it, was as follows: 'There, in front of me, was the white, dusty road, with a low stone wall on either side of it; here, on the offside of these walls, the bare undulating pasture land and beyond, away in the distance, the gloomy hills.'

   O'Donnell was considering this when his bike came to a turning and there, an open carriage drawn by two black horses careered across his path, forcing him either to crash into it or veer into the right into the stone wall. He chose the wall, smashed into it, and knocked himself unconscious. When he woke up he found that his bike had broken into two parts, which again he had seen in his dream. The carriage driver, who must have seen him, had driven on and left him for dead. When he was able to, O'Donnell picked himself up and continued shakily on his way. He wondered afterwards whether the precognitive dream actually saved his life and was a warning - from somewhere - that he should choice crashing into the wall, for if he chose colliding with the carriage, he would have died.

   The thing that strikes me when considering Elliott O' Donnell's dream is that it parallels, to some extent, another remarkable dream that changed the fate of someone in the exact same patch of countryside over a century previously. This was the case of William Imrie, an Aberdeenshire man who was travelling south when he spent the night in the ruins of Redcastle at Lunan Bay. Here he dreamt that he would go to London, marry a rich woman, and return here to buy an estate. His life afterwards was exactly in accord with this vision. He bought an estate at Lunan Bay and died here in 1798 (though some sources say 1790). The story is related in my previous blog post The Fortunate Dream of William Imrie of Lunan.

      In the same book, O'Donnell tells the story of a haunted house in the centre of Montrose which was occupied by a spinster who was giving him French lessons. On the first occassion he went there he heard someone with a racking, consumptive cough in a part of the room screened off from where he was. When he questioned the lady, she said she was alone in the house and hoped he had not been upset by the sound. The next day he heard the same again and ran out of the room, encountering a servant who burst into tears. She explained that the sound came from a ghost, but she daren't say anything in case she was dismissed. The story ends rather flatly. Nobody could tell him much about the haunting beyond the face that it was reputedly an old man who had died in suspicious circumstances in the house some years before.

Body Snatching in Montrose

 Most people have heard of Burke and Hare and their nefarious way of ensuring that the best corpses were provided for the keen medical anatomists of Edinburgh. But body snatching (which sounds marginally better than body stealing) was practised far and wide. 

From the Montrose Review on Friday 21 December, 1827, we have the following account of this dark activity:

The people in this neighbourhood have not, for a long time, had their peace of mind broken by the grieving thought, that sepulchres of their dead were violate by the profance hands of body-stealers. They heard only, certainly not without feelings of indignation and sorrow, of resurrectionists at a distance: they now find that there are such unfeeling wretches grown up among themselves; and the whole vicinity is struch with astonishment at the mortifying disclosure. On Monday morning, a box was brought, by the Fettercairn carrier, to the office of Cobourg, addressed "B. C. & Co., North Place, Edinburgh," with the instructions to be forwarded with haste. The proprietor of the coach, entertaining suspicion of its contents, examined the box more minutely and found it to emit a most disagreeable smell. Having ascertained from whence it came, he communicated his supicion to a Justice of the Peace, who granted warrant for the apprehension of the individual from whom, the carrier received the box. In the meantime, it was opened by the authority of a Justice and was found to contain the remains of an aged man of the name of Kinnear which were interred in the Old Churchyard of Logie on Friday week.

The individual suspected of disturbing his ashes - and who is also suspected of having carryied on the trade of a body-snatcher for some time - is a young fellow of the name of Burnett, who resides about the Brae of Rosemount, and who was brought here by the officers the same evening. After undergoing an examination he was committed to the Jail, for further precognition - for which purpose the Sheriff-Substitute arrive last night; but it was wit some difficuty that the fellow could be got conveyed thither from the Town House, as the populace would fain have taken summary justice upon the wretch, who, they believed, had committed the gross violation. The corpse was re-interred by the deceased's friends on Wednesday. The resurrectionists seem to have been extremely busy, or extremely unfortunate, last week as, besides the above instance, two bodies, also on their journey to the Scotch metropolis, have been detained - the one at Carlisle and the other in the north country.

The Press Gang

  This article details some information about the naval press gangs which were a real and feared feature of coastal communities for many generations in our part of the world and elsewhere.  I may well return to this subject in the future, subject of course to what I unearth. Previous blog posts on similar naval themes are listed at the bottom of the article.

The impress officers who roamed the coastal communities of Britain periodically in the 18th and early 19th centuries, better known as the Press Gang, spread panic and fear among young men and their relatives as they sought to bolster the depleted ranks of the Royal Navy. There are actually relatively few references to the Press Gang operating in Angus, at least in popular printed literature that I have come across, but they undoubtedly operated here. For some time, the navy force on the look out for men was based at Arbroath. A Captain James Greig of the 'Southesk' narrowly escaped capture by them. He was learning navigation in Christison's school in Crawford Close when he heard navy men nearby. He and another man removed the lower sash of the window and made their escape. They headed north and did not stop until they reached Laurencekirk in the Mearns. Even then, Greig lived rough in the woods at Kinnaird in case the Press Gang still pursued him. 


   Some young men employed in various trades were still targeted by the impress officers even though they had been equipped with certificates advising of their exemption from forced naval service.  Some of the local men employed in the construction of the Bell Rock lighthouse were affected. The Northern Lighthouse Board issued medals of exemption to the 35 seamen who were employed on its 5 vessels. But at least one employed man was caught out. Arbroath man George Dall was detained in 1810 during a visit to friends in Dundee. He had been employed in the construction of the lighthouse, but had been laid off in the winter months of 1810 and was apprehended in Dundee in February. The Magistrates of Dundee declared that the regulating officer had no right to take him, but the latter insisted that he had, declaring that seamen only stood protected when they were onboard their own ships. The case went to the Court of Session and Dall was eventually released after languishing in prison for a period. Although the Press Gangs were less active after the second decade of the 19th century, there were sporadic instances of them operating later. There is a tradition of the Arbroath shipbuilder Alexander Stephen allowing his employees to hide in his yard's steam box while the impress men were out looking for prey, perhaps around the year 1830.

   During the wars against the French in the early 19th century the Press Gang seem to have been based mainly at Arbroath, though another favourite hunting ground for them was Montrose. On occasions a tender would sit off Montrose at the water mouth or in the actual harbour.  Even officers were in danger of impressment. There is a tale of Captain James Greig of the 'Southesk' who was notified of the presence of the Press Gang when he was studying navigation at Christison's school in Crawford's Close, Montrose. In order to escape he and another man had to remove the sash window and abscond. They fled north into the Mearns and did not stop until they reached Laurencekirk. Greig was forced to spend three weeks hiding in the woods of Kinnaird until the danger was passed.

  A happy ending of sorts was not guaranteed for all of those unhappy men who were forced into naval service. But one such was John Crawford, a native of Broughty Ferry, who was impressed into the Royal Navy early in the nineteenth century. Six months later he lost an arm and was dismissed with a small pension. Local sympathy ensured he entered gainful employment as stationmaster at Easthaven. It seemed that he thrived in his role and lived so long that the suspicious Admiralty sent an inspector to Angus years later to check that he was still alive. Ten years later, a further two inspectors came to check on him, then - years later again - three more inspectors came to Easthaven to check that John Crawford was still alive enough to claim his (well deserved pension)!

Some Sources

J. M. Mc Bain, Arbroath Past and Present (Arbroath, 1887).

Robert Chambers, The Domestic Annals of Scotland (Edinburgh & London, 1858).

David Mitchell, The History of Montrose (Montrose, 1866).

The Montrose Review, Friday 5th August 1927.

Some Previous Maritime Posts

Fisher Folk(lore)

Perils of The Sea

Angria The Pirate

Tales of The Whales, Part One

Tales of The Whales, Part Two

Tales of The Whales, Part Three

The Newmanswalls House Ghost, Montrose

 There is a forlorness to lost places which lingers long after they have vanished, though traditions can be left behind. Newmans Walls House, on the north side of Montrose, was near the grounds of the ancient hospitaal. The ancient owners of the estate were named Paniter or Panter, and they held the crown charter of Newmans Walls from 1410 until 1610, when it was sold to the Scotts. The house was rebuilt in 1790 and, in 1809, it became the property of a family named Tailyour.

   Several of the Paniter family were notable ecclesiastics. Patrick Panter was born at Newmans walls, near Montrose, in 1470, and became abbot of Cambuskenneth in 1510. In 1516 he created the hospital at Montrose. Carved wooden panels which come from the long-vanished hospital are now in the National Museum of Scotland. (They are the subject of a previous post: Lost Treasures of Angus - Patrick Paniter's Panels from Montrose)

The Paniter Panels from Montrose Hospital

   Despite the occasional prominent cleric, there was little of any consequence recorded in the old house of Newmanswells, and there are few records of what it actually looked like, which makes the following story all the more intriguing.

The Montrose Standard reported on Friday 30 September 1938 that the house had almost completely been destroyed by fire on the previous weekend. There had never been a tradition of the mansion being haunted in former times, but three weeks before the blaze a blind man and his wife had come to stay in one of the upper bedrooms where there was a four-poster bed. In the middle of the night he woke his wife to say that he heard someone moving about by the dressing table. The lady jumped out of bed but discovered nobody there. Worse was to come. Three days before the fire the same unfortunate gentleman was shaving himself when he was grabbed by two spectral hands which turned him completely around. He groped around to find who had laid hands on him, but nobody at all was there. He and his wife left the property shortly thereafter. And the house then mysteriously went up in flames. It was completely demolished in the 1960s and modern housing now stands on the site. 

   No-one has, to my knowledge, identified the very transitory ghost that occupied Newmanswalls in its dying days.

For an interesting article (sadly, ghost-less) about the house see Montrose Basin Heritage Society

Fairs and Markets (and Festivals), Part Three: Brechin

   As is the way with this blog, continuations of previous posts often take an extremely long time since the previous parts. Fairs and Markets Part 2 was published as long ago as September 2017. (Fairs and Markets Part 1 was written the previous year.) This post concentrates on the famous Trinity Market of Brechin, famed throughout Angus and beyond. Quite of lot of the previous post concentrated on Brechin and this article adds some more information to that. Further posts about other markets will doubtless transpire in the indeterminate future. Other markets were held in Brechin, as elsewhere, but this post concentrates on the most famous Brechin gathering. 

   As stated in previous pieces, the Trinity Tryst (or Taranty) has ancient roots and was held on Trinity Muir for three days, starting in the second Wednesday in June, but in modern times shrunk to two days. The burgh magistrates held a daily court during the fair and were led there with much pomp by an armed bodyguard and officials of the town and respresentatives of all the crafts. A sumptuous luncheon was held for all in Justice Hall.

 While more sober decriptions of the market and its activities have been described previously, this article concentrates on press coverage, mainly the social side of the event. Hats off to the witty reporters of past generations in the local press, who are anonymous. If they concentrated on the more bawdy side of the occassion, let us not doubt that the majority of the traders and attendies were abstemious, serious and wise. 

   To start with here's an article which appeared in the Montrose Standard, 30th June 1890:

The weekly auction marts are telling upon the fortunes of the ancient Trinity Tryst. few fat cattle were shown on Thursday, and the market may soon only become a field day for Irish stores. With the horse market on Friday it was different. The Auction Companies have not yet made any striking impression on the horse market. Consequently in Friday a thoroughly representative gathering of horses was seen, and as with the horses so with the people. Aristocrates elbowed drovers, and the bob-tail of humanity mixed with the "nobs" of the district. It takes a deal of swearing to sufficiently impress the worth of an animal on an intending purchaser. This leaves both throats dry, and they adjourn to the nearest tent to restore the parched conduit pipe. When once there good fellowship sometimes overcomes moderation, and neither leave, but are trailed out. About five o'clock the muir resembles a battlefield in more than one respect. It has fights and tents, where the wounded lie where they have fallen. Policemen are busy restoring the equlibrium in the moral and material world. Beside the tents which they have so gallantly assaulted all day numbers lie, rendered incapably of further action that day at least. And so the battle rages on, and the respectable edge off homeward. By and by the ark of the occasion - the beer barrel - is borne off the field by the Philistines. A forward moved to Brechin and neighbouring "pubs" is made by the remaining active service men, and Trinity market is left silent with the debris and wreck of the engagement strewn thickly around.

  

   While the nineteenth century is sometimes cited as the heyday of the Trinity, its fortunes waxed and waned from year to year in accordance with the agricultural economy and other factors. The Caledonian Mercury (Midlothian, 22nd July 1815) reported that the Trinity Market that year went off very well and though cattle did not make as much money as previously, few remained unsold. Prices for horses were high but sales were very dull and prices fell considerably towards the end of the market.The reporter then stated: 'Not withstanding the very depressed state of agriculture, the rage for farms does not appear to be altogther abated. There is some considerable ones let in this county of late, at rather high rents for the present value of produce...'

   The Montrose Review gave the following summary of the market a generation later (21st June, 1850):

Trinity Market. —This large fair has got in some measure a new phase. Now that railway facilities are so great, a very large number of the frequenters of the market from a distance find it more convenient to come by rail on the morning of the principal market, instead of as formerly, from the limited means of conveyance, on the evening previous, so that, generally speaking, our town, on the evening preceding the fair, has very quiet appearance, and lodgings are not difficult to be had. On the other hand, with a large portion of the lower class of citizens, matters seem to be retrograding. Giving themselves up to indiscriminate drinking, scenes of a heartrending description are too frequently exhibited. The Muir being the general rendezvous for these Bacchanals, any restraint felt in the town is cast aside, and vice, in all its deformity, reigns supreme.

   In 1871, the autumn market was recorded as a shadow of its former self (Brechin Advertiser, 3rd October 1871): 

 

The Convener’s Market was held in the Trinity Moir Stance on Tuesday last. The day was tine, but, notwithstanding, there was meagre attendance dealers and farmers, well a poor show of cattle, the whole , number on the ground not exceeding 250, the whole of which were Irish. Dealers were asking very high prices, and the whole the market was stiff one, about the half not being sold, and sent Forfar to stand the market.

    On the social side of things, the Brechin markets still attracted large numbers of the local populace. The Dundee Courier (12th June 1874) wrote:

On Thursday forenoon, large numbers of the workers at the East Mills paraded the streets, behaving themselves in a very excited manner. The mills were to have been kept going this year till two o'clock, instead of stopping at twelve formerly, and this not being in accordance with their tastes, they refused to in at ten o'clock. It would seem there something very attractive about a " Trinity" market, least to the workers at the East Mills.

   There was some degree of misbehaviour at fairs and markets, wherever they were held, and many minor acts of criminality were down to overindulgence. The Montrose Review on 7th August 1863 reported a case of drunken criminality associated with the market:

John Hosea, broker dealer, from Brechin, was charged with having, the night the 12th June last, stolen from the person or custody of George Duncan, farmer, West Pittendriech, Brechin, £4l in bank notes, his property. Panel pled not guilty, and jury was empanneled. From the evidence, it appeared that the complainer had attended Trinity Market the day in question, and had there partaken freely of "mountain dew." He, however, was apparently up to a thing or two, he forthwith deposited the aforesaid sura in the leg of one of his boots. He appeals then to have visited a house of questionable character the Gallowhill Road of Brechin; and after remaining there a short time with a female, and forgetting where he had deposited his money, on searching his pockets, he freely alleged he had been robbed, and kicked most uncomfortable row for want his cash. This state of matters not being relished by his "lady love," she must needs have the police clear the matter up. Duncan's obfuscation of his senses, however, wore off, and reaching the door the said domicile be commenced taking the money furth from the boot to see if it was all right; when the prisoner, who had followed him from the bouse and appeared somewhat familiar with him, suddenly struck Duncan on the wrist, knocking the notes out of his hand, and speedily lifting up his booty, decamped with it— Duncan in hot pursuit. The money was traced to the possession of Hosea, who accounted for having such sum by saying had made excellent profit in dealing amongst "sheep” (?), and had won  a £5 note a wager with a tinker. At the conclusion the evidence, and after a lucid and unbiased summing up of the evidence the Sheriff, the jury, retiring for a short time, returned a verdict unanimously finding the pannel guilty as libelled. The learned Sheriff, in passing sentence, impressed upon the prisoner the necessity of improving the period of his imprisonment by endeavouring to reform his character; and remarked that he was fortunate in having his case tried before the present court, as, approaching si closely as it did to the crime of robbery, if he had been tried before the Circuit Court, his punishment would have been more severe. He was then sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment in the General Prison at Perth.

   Seven years later there was a less dramatic incident of criminality which again highlighted the prevalence of alcoholic overindulgence at the market. The Dundee Courier stated (on 17th June 1870) that James Smith admitted stealing a watch from a man and was sentenced to ten days' imprisonment. Smith, a labourer, had promised a town constable that he would see another man, a smith, safely home to his door. However, after taking him 400 or 500 yards on his way he decided to relieve him of his watch and left him lying on the roadside in a drunken stupor. In 1878, meanwhile, a Mearns man named Richard Emslie claimed that he had been duped out of £20 by some Irishmen following the sale of a horse (Arbroath Guide, 22nd June, 1878). It seems to have been a perennial risk during market times. In July 1886, a local man named William Nicoll was robbed of a substantial sum by three associates he went drinking with during market time (Forfar Herald, 9th July 1886). Two years later an 'obsterporous merchant' was charged with drunk and disorderliness at the North British railway station, where he kicked a porter 'in a dangerous part of the body'. He was given the option of either paying 20 shillings or going to prison for 14 days (The Dundee Courier, 19th June 1888). Instances of similar robbery occur sporadically in  newspaper reports for several decades afterwards.

   The markets and fairs were also represented as attracting unsavoury characters such as vagrants and tramps. The Dundee Advertiser reported on 25th June 1889 that, in Kirriemuir:

James Johnstone, umbrella maker, of no fixed place of abode, was charged with rioutous, drunken, and disorderly conduct on the public street. He pled guilty. The Public Prosecutor explained that although this was Johnstone's first appearance in Court here it was not the first time he had locked him up, and that he only constituted one of a band of tramps or vagrants that have infested the burgh ever since Trinity Market, to the annoyance of the general community. Johnstone pleaded hard to be allowed to go; but the Magistrate imposed a fine of 5s, or two days' imprisonment. He went to prison.

   The homeless were perceived as being a perennial problem at Trinity. In 1910, it was reported that 'the usual shoal' of tramps arrived in Brechin at market time, whose conduct was 'not altogether above reproach'. Among the influx were Forfarians Francis Morrell and his wife Mary Ann, who drunkenly used abusive and disgusting language towards each other in public. They were fined 10 shillings each, with the default of 7 days in prison.

Further Reading

F. Marian MacNeill, The Silver Bough, Volume 4, Local Festivals (Glasgow, 1968). 

Fiona Scharlau, Old Brechin (Mauchline, 2001).

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 mostly 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 such thing!

   The final rhyme for your delight is the only one not to be found in the old article mentioned at the start of this post. I found it in one of Colin Gibson's 'Nature Diary' entries in The Courier (30 January 1993). The rhyme belongs to the district north of Lintrathen and there is a background story. There was once a battle here between two great chieftains and each was slain. Once was buried in the place now named Cairn Motherie and the other at Cairn Plew. A tradition grew up that there is buried treasure in these places, though neither has been excavated. The rhyme runs as follows:

Gin ye howk Cairn Motherie

As he howked Cairn Plew,

Ye'll win a kist o' gold

That will a' Lintrathen rue.

   Also from upland Angus comes the following snippet, which refers to the excessive inaccessibility of a farm in Glenesk:

                                                            

                                                            There's a road tae heaven
                                                            and a road tae hell.
                                                            But nae road tae Keenie!

   

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