eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
Storyteller Tim Porteus brings together stories from the rugged coastlines, golden beaches, rolling countryside and dramatic Lammermuir Hills of the ancient county of East Lothian. In this treasure trove of tales you will meet Scottish kings and queens, saints and sinners, witches and wizards, ghosts and giants, fools and tricksters – all as fantastical and powerful as the landscape they inhabit. Retold in an engaging style, and richly illustrated with unique line drawings, these humorous, clever and enchanting folk tales are sure to be enjoyed and shared time and again.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780750986397 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | The History Press |
| Publication date: | 11/01/2017 |
| Series: | Folk Tales |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 192 |
| File size: | 10 MB |
About the Author
Donald Smith is an accomplished storyteller in a variety of media from fiction to digital, live stage and spoken word. He has produced, adapted or directed over 100 plays, and published a series of novels on turning points in Scottish history. He has also written a series of non-fiction books on Scottish culture including Storytelling Scotland (2001). He is a lead author in the series Journeys and Evocations, celebrating local storytelling traditions across Britain and Ireland. He is a founding member of the Scottish Storytelling Forum, Edinburgh’sGuid Crack Club and is currently Chief Executive of TRACS (Traditional Arts and Culture Scotland) which brings together Scotland’s traditional arts, as well Director of the Scottish International Storytelling Festival.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
The Legend of the Saltire
I understand that you good people of East Lothian have a particular reason to celebrate St Andrew's Day, but I thought I would take this opportunity to remind you that you do, in fact, also have your own saint, who actually lived and died in East Lothian. That saint is me, St Baldred. I know there are stories about me in this book, but I would like to take this opportunity to explain the background to the legend of the Saltire and my role in it.
The moment you drive into East Lothian, you are reminded of the fact that it is the birthplace of the Scottish flag. The legend has been told down the ages, of how St Andrew painted his cross in the sky and inspired the Scots and Picts to victory over Athelstan, King of the Angles.
I'm fine with all this of course, but I'm also going to be honest, St Columba would never say it out loud, but I know he was really hurt that he was overlooked for the role. He'd devoted the later part of his life to Scotland and died here. He travelled all over, getting blisters on his feet while converting people to Christianity. He even subdued the creature of Loch Ness, which is now a crucial part of the Scottish economy.
St Kentigern was a bit miffed too. As you know, his mother was from the area and he had been conceived in East Lothian, born in Fife and worked and buried in Glasgow. And I spent almost all my working life in East Lothian. I founded many churches here and there are holy wells with my name all over the county, which I personally blessed. But I do understand that I had mixed loyalties, so I wasn't expecting to receive a prayer. But poor St Columba, well, he was.
Don't get me wrong, we are all devoted to St Andrew and think he's done a great job, but the truth is he never set foot on Scottish soil. It was only a tooth, an arm bone, a kneecap and a finger that were brought to Scotland by a monk called St Rule. I know these relics were kept at a place which became known as St Andrews, but the man himself never came here, did he? He did all his work in Greece and the area about.
The truth is, he actually doesn't know that much about Scotland, except what we have told him. However, having said that, I do understand that St Andrew was one of the Apostles, and St Columba could never claim that.
But I'd like to let you into what happened that day. You see, St Andrew didn't actually see most of it, he was so busy. He asked us to keep an eye on the situation, as I knew the area and St Columba was so concerned. So in a sense we were coordinating things and saw it firsthand. Here is what happened.
The whole thing began with a cattle raid by the Scots and Picts in AD 832. You see, at this time East Lothian wasn't part of early Scotland, it was in fact part of Northumbria, as it had been when I lived there (hence my mixed loyalties). But to the north of the Forth it was the land of the Picts. Their king was Angus (Oengus) who ruled most of the north-east of what is now Scotland, from Fife to the Orkneys.
It was Angus who came up with the plan for a great cattle raid. At the time, I thought it was a bad idea, but of course he didn't listen. He managed to get the support of Eochaidh, who was king of the Scots of Dalriada in the west.
I have to say, it was interesting to see Picts and Scots come together like this. I think it was because the Northumbrians were seen as a common enemy, and this show of military strength and unity would make the Northumbrians think twice before advancing northwards.
The cattle raid was a great success, but that was part of the trouble. I looked down on all this and could see that the Northumbrian leader Athelstan was raging. It was obvious he was going to try and punish the invading Celts!
There were so many cattle it took ages to herd them back into safe territory, and so Angus found himself way behind schedule. It was nail-biting to watch as the Northumbrians caught up with his force at the mouth of the River Tyne.
I could see Angus was concerned, he hadn't planned this. But now he had no time to run, so he started looking for a good defensive position. He found it in the Peffer Valley, near a place called Markle, close to East Linton. Here the river would be an obstacle for Athelstan's forces, and the open space provided good ground for an attack. The surrounding raised ground also meant lookouts could be posted.
I remember St Columba being very concerned that the odds looked very bad, the Northumbrians had a force four times larger than Angus's and Eochaidh's combined force. Angus knew this from his scouts, and so he led his men in prayer.
This was the awkward moment. The saint they called on was not St Columba, who was watching and waiting for the call, but St Andrew. Angus promised to make him the patron saint if he would come to his aid. St Columba took it well, but I could tell he was deeply disappointed not to be given this opportunity.
The irony was when St Andrew got the message, he was so busy he delegated the task of watching over the Scots and Picts to St Columba anyway, and asked me to help out because of my local connections. He gave us instructions to inform him when action was needed. Of course, we gladly accepted this task.
That night, before the battle, we could feel the tension amongst the Scots and Picts. Angus and his men tried to get some sleep under the stars, but it was not easy. Everyone knew that in the morning Athelstan's mighty force would arrive.
St Andrew asked us how it was going, and we explained the situation. 'Hmm, what do you suggest?' he asked.
'Well, I think the Scots need something to boost their confidence,' suggested St Columba, 'perhaps you could assure Angus of your support since he prayed to you?' St Andrew nodded and so that's what he did.
He appeared to Angus in a dream, saying, 'Fear not, you will have victory tomorrow be assured, and a heavenly sign will show the truth of this.'
St Andrew then left. I just assumed he'd arranged the heavenly sign, but I think it slipped his mind as he was so busy.
The morning arrived with the sound of thousands of men approaching. But thanks to his reassuring dream, Angus was now sure of victory. He cheered his men with the story of his night-time visit from St Andrew and they were uplifted by it.
I could hardly look as the battle raged, it was so bloody and brutal. At one point the Northumbrians tried to cross the Peffer at the ford by Prora, but they were blocked by barricades of hastily cut down hawthorn.
But eventually Athelstan's main force encircled Angus and his men, and it seemed all would be lost as the Northumbrians had such overwhelming numbers. It was brutal, no wonder the field there became known as the bloody lands. St Columba went over to St Andrew and said to him, politely, 'Ahem, I think that now would be a good moment for that heavenly sign you promised, St Andrew.'
'Oh yes, of course, thank you for reminding me,' said St Andrew. So he came over, had a quick think, then cleared the clouds and made his sign: a white inverted cross against a deep blue sky! I must admit, it was an impressive sight.
Well, when the Picts and Scots saw this they cheered, and their bodies were charged with a new spirit of confidence and belief. Their renewed fighting spirit sent the Northumbrians reeling and the tide of battle turned!
Athelstan himself refused to give up, and his head was sliced off by a Celtic sword at a place thereafter known as Athelstaneford. The head was kept as a trophy and later displayed on a pole in Fife! I didn't approve of that of course, awful.
And so that's how it happened. It's great that St Andrew's cross is the Scottish flag, and he is the patron saint. I'm not jealous or anything, we're saints, we don't do jealousy. I'm very happy my old stomping ground is now part of Scotland, and St Columba says he's fine with it all. After all, he still has the Loch Ness legend to his name.
Now I know there is a big question mark over whether all this happened, because there is no written historical evidence for it, and some people have suggested my memory is faulty and influenced by the constant hearing of the story. I can't comment on that. I do accept that there are other stories as to how Athelstaneford got its name, but just remember: a lot of things weren't written down, but they still happened! And likewise, a lot of things were written down that didn't happen! That's the thing about legends, I suppose.
I just thought I'd take the opportunity to put a new perspective on one of East Lothian's greatest legends, and remind people that there are places to visit associated with me too.
I hope you enjoy the book.
St Baldred.
CHAPTER 2
St Baldred's Boat
The Bass Rock looms out of the sea close to North Berwick, its cliffs turned white in the spring because of the thousands of nesting seabirds. It is an impressive, almost surreal sight, and legend tells us it was on this rocky island that St Baldred spent much of his time in prayer and quiet contemplation.
To leave the island he would take the short route by boat to Seacliff, where a cave and ancient dwelling still bear his name. Although it was usually a short journey, it could be perilous, especially in bad weather or fading light. There was a shelf of rock which lay below the surface at high tide, but was exposed at low tide. It lay between the Bass Rock and the shoreline; right in the middle of the route taken by local fishermen. Many boats had their hulls ripped by it at high tide, and at low tide strong winds could blow boats onto its jagged edge, wrecking them completely.
After witnessing a near fatal incident on this rock, St Baldred decided that he must try to do something about this danger to the lives of his flock. He prayed for guidance and soon afterwards he came ashore and spoke to the local fishermen.
'I want you to take me to the rock at low tide,' he said to them, 'then leave me there.'
The fishermen were horrified. They had no idea why the holy man wanted to do this, but they knew how dangerous it would be; 'when the tide rises you will be swept by the waves into the sea, please do not ask us to do this,' they pleaded.
But St Baldred was insistent. 'Have faith,' he scolded them. 'I know what I am doing. I have prayed and God has answered me.'
At low tide they reluctantly rowed him to the rock. The sea swirled and crashed against the edge and it was not easy to find a place to drop the saint off. More than once they tried to persuade the holy man to abandon the idea. But he was determined.
Eventually St Baldred managed to scramble onto the rock and the fishermen rowed away, leaving him there alone, as he'd asked. But they knew that the tide would soon rise, so they stayed nearby, ready to rescue him. But when St Baldred saw this he repeated his call to 'Have faith!'. They rowed a little further away, but not too far, so they could still watch from a distance.
St Baldred stood on the rock's highest point and raised his arms to the sky calling out to God. The fishermen watched with disbelieving eyes as the great rock slowly rose up, and seemed to float like a boat. Then, with the holy man balancing on it like a surfer on a giant surf board, the rock began to move towards the mainland.
St Baldred carefully navigated the rock towards the sandy beach at Seacliff. Then he lowered his arms and the rock slowed down and came to rest. It settled into the sand, and St Baldred was able to walk off it onto the beach. The holy man turned and smiled at a job well done, and fell to his knees to give thanks for the miracle.
Now the rock was in a safer position, close to the shore. It opened a rock-free channel between the Bass and the mainland. Local people flocked to him to give thanks. But the holy man told them, 'Do not thank me, give thanks to the Lord your God, and have faith in Him'. They bowed their heads and nodded in reverence. St Baldred had shown the power of faith in God!
So much time has passed since these days, but the rock remains where St Baldred anchored it. It's called St Baldred's Boat and can be seen clearly from Seacliff Beach, and reached from there at low tide. These days a prominent beacon with a cross decorates the spot where the holy man navigated his 'boat'.
There are many places associated with St Baldred in East Lothian, including his holy wells. But it is perhaps his 'boat', and the story of how he navigated it, which leaves the greatest impression on the imagination.
CHAPTER 3
St Baldred's Last Miracle
St Baldred spent a lot of time on the Bass Rock in a small chapel he built. In truth, it wasn't really a chapel, just a simple cell. It was a place where St Baldred went to rest and pray and be close to God. It was hard work being a missionary, and having me and God time was vital. The swelling sea and the birds gave constant noise, but it was the sound of creation, and he loved it.
On his last visit to the Bass Rock he felt very weary. His bones ached, and he felt his soul being called. Sure enough, soon afterwards he departed to meet his Lord and Saviour, his earthly work done. Or so he thought.
The discovery of his body was first greeted with wailing and grief, but this soon gave way to a great argument. His followers were from different communities in what is now East Lothian. While he was alive he could serve them all equally, but now only one place could be chosen to lay his body to rest.
The people of Auldhame, Tyninghame and Prestonkirk, who had all been united by the word of God, were now in conflict over the issue of where to bury the holy man they all had loved and been devoted to equally. St Baldred must have been saddened to see his flock so readily forget his teachings and fight over his physical body.
But who now could mediate between these communities, united in grief but separated over the issue of where the holy man should rest? Fortunately there was good guidance at hand. A wise man within the church, who had known St Baldred well when he lived, soothed the tempers of his followers.
'You must pray all night,' he told them, 'and in the morning an answer will be forthcoming.' And so they all followed his advice. Representatives of all three communities spent the night in vigil and prayer in the chapel where Baldred's body lay.
And in the morning, just before sunrise, the wise man visited them. He first asked the people of Auldhame, 'Have your prayers been answered?'
'We prayed all night,' they said, 'and in the morning we heard God's answer within our souls.'
'And what was this answer?' asked the wise man.
'God wishes the burial to be at Auldhame, where his holy remains will lie in view of the sea and his island sanctuary,' they replied.
Then the wise man turned to the people of Tyninghame. They too had prayed all night and had received an answer from God.
'And what was God's answer to you?' asked the wise man.
'God wishes the burial to be at Tyninghame,' they replied, 'so he lies close to the river in whose water he used to baptise so many.'
And finally, the wise man asked the congregation at Prestonkirk. They likewise had prayed all night and been give an answer.
'The Lord wishes the burial to be at Prestonkirk, so he lies close to his sacred healing well,' they replied.
'So the Lord has spoken and given you his answer,' said the wise man.
There were murmurings amongst the assembled. 'But who has the right answer?' asked one. 'How can God give us three different answers?' demanded another. 'They must be lying,' said another. Discord and conflict were about to break out once again.
The wise man raised his arms and calmed everyone. 'We are all united in grief for the loss of our holy brother, but let us celebrate that he now sits with the Lord.'
The sunrise suddenly beamed light through the small window of the chapel, revealing the place where Baldred's body had been lain. But now there lay not one, but three bodies, all wrapped up ready for burial. All three were St Baldred, identical in every respect. There were gasps from the people, who then fell to their knees in prayer and thanksgiving for the miracle.
'The Lord has answered your prayers, now in unity go and bury our beloved holy brother,' said the wise man.
And so St Baldred was buried in all three parishes, which is why today each one can equally claim to be the resting place of the saint.
It was St Baldred's last legendary miracle, and an ingenious way to avoid conflict and division amongst his followers after he had departed his earthly life.
CHAPTER 4
The Holy Princess of East Lothian
There can hardly be a more iconic image of East Lothian than Traprain Law. This great volcanic hill dominates the surrounding countryside, and despite a slice being removed by twentieth-century mining operations, it has lost none of its power to impress.
On its broad summit was once a great fortress, known as Dunpelder or Dunpender, home to the great Celtic tribe called the Gododdin (known to the Romans as the Votadini). The head of this tribe was called King Loth (or Lot). Such was his power and prestige that the name Lothian is said to be derived from his name. He was the brother-in-law of the legendary King Arthur.
And so in choosing a husband for his daughter, Thenew, he decided upon what he considered a suitable match.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "East Lothian Folk Tales"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Tim Porteus.
Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
About the Author,
About the Illustrator,
Acknowledgements,
Foreword by Donald Smith,
Introduction,
1. The Legend of the Saltire,
2. St Baldred's Boat,
3. St Baldred's Last Miracle,
4. The Holy Princess of East Lothian,
5. The Wizard of Yester,
6. The Magic Pear,
7. The Gyre Carling,
8. The Fairy Tournament,
9. Thomas the Rhymer Makes His Mark in Dunbar,
10. The Brownie of Butterdean Wood,
11. The Weaver's Wife,
12. The Fairy Glen,
13. A Tale of Two Legends,
14. The Crusoe of Cockenzie,
15. A Salty Tale from Cockenzie,
16. Bleezing Fou at Canty Bay,
17. Cockles Brae,
18. The Red Skipper of Dunbar,
19. The Old Sailor of Tantallon,
20. Clack, Clack, Clack,
21. Wee Short-Hoggers of Whittinghame,
22. The Haunted House,
23. The Ghost of Innerwick,
24. Tally Sinclair,
25. The Haunted Well of Amisfield,
26. Isabel Heriot of Peaston,
27. The Green Lady of Market Street,
28. The Holy Rood Well,
29. The Holy Well and the Mystery of Dunbar's Lost Heroine,
30. The Warrior Nun,
31. A Legend of Fearful Character,
32. The Legend of the Lady of Gamelsheil,
33. The Lovesick Cow,
34. The Wild Boar of Saltcoats,
35. The Maukin of Dingleton,
36. The Last Vicar of Golyn,
37. The Minister's Tattie Bogle,
38. Wullie's Tooth,
39. The Nobleman's Daughter and the Wraggle Taggle Gypsy,
40. The Lonely Graves of Gilchriston,
41. 'To Herdmanston!',
42. Musselburgh's Famous Fishwife,
Glossary,
A Note on the Sources,