Part 22

'In the name o' God, bring back the bairn!' cried the lass.

The window flew up; the earthly child was laid unharmed on the mother's lap, while its grisly substitute flew up the chimney with a loud laugh."(60)

A further narrative, bringing out the idea of gratitude for a favour, and resentment at insult, has been gleaned from the parish of Closeburn:--

"Two men were ploughing down, in Closeburn parish, when they both felt a strong smell of burning cake. One of them said in an off-hand kind o' way--

'Yer cake's burnin'.'

'Make us a spurtle tae burn it wi', then,' said a voice apparently close at hand.

The man, good-naturedly, did as directed, and laid the article down on the ground. On returning to the spot he found the spurtle taken away, and bread and cheese left in its place. He partook of both, and likewise gave some to his horses, but his companion would neither taste himself nor allow his horses to taste. An affront of this kind could not be overlooked, and he had not gone many steps until he dropped down dead in the furrow."(61)

A noted fairy tryste in this Nithsdale district was the Ward-Law Hill, Dalswinton. It came to pass, however, that the green ring where the fairies had danced and gambolled became in the times of the Persecution a place of worship. On this account no longer could the fairy revelry and dance continue, and it was firmly believed in the district that sounds of lamentation and regret, proceeding from no earthly voices, were heard in the neighbourhood of this favourite fairy-haunt for many years afterwards.

The gardens of Drumlanrig Palace (Thornhill) were also a reputed gathering-place of the fairies, who were often seen dancing in the gloaming in the glade opposite to Jock o' the Horn.

There is a "Fairy Knowe" at Sanquhar, described by Simpson as "a beautiful little green knoll which overlooks what is called the Waird, ... formerly covered with the waving broom, with green spaces here and there, the dancing-places of the sportive fairies."

The braes of Polveoch, at the west end of the Bank Wood, between Kirkconnel and Sanquhar, was also a favourite trysting-place of the fairies. "Here the good little folks assembled on May Day to celebrate the advent of summer; contingents came in from Kello Water, Glen Aylmer, and Glen Wharry, and when all had gathered together they rode merrily over the knowes towards the Bale Hill, in whose sunward slope a beauteous doorway was said to open for them, which they entered two at a time, the green turf closing over the last pair to get in."(62)

In Annandale the great fairy strength and palace lay in the heart of Burnswark Hill. The reputation of these Annandale fairies seems to have been rather disposed towards evil than good. Young men as well as young women were carried off, the former to act as very slaves and beasts of burden. The following is the account of the abduction of a young woman belonging to Corrie:--

"One fair Corrie damsel, who was supposed to have died, appeared to her brother, and informed him that she was not dead, but kept in bondage among the fairies, who, when they carried her off, had left in the bed an image of her, which had been buried in her stead. She entreated him to repair alone to the barn on the following night, set open the doors, and watch there till the hour of midnight, when he would see three forms pass before him, of which she would be the last. She told him he was then to seize fast hold of her, to repeat certain words which she instructed him to use, and that he might thus effect her rescue. Unfortunately, the brother's courage failed him when the hour of trial came, so that the captive sister was never released from elfin thraldom and restored to her family."(63)

It may be noted in passing that all the place-names in this district ending in "sheen" refer to fairy occupation of the land. Sidh (pronounced shee) is a fairy, with the diminutive sidhean (sheen), which more especially carries the meaning of Fairy Hill. Examples of these may be cited in Auchensheen, Colvend; Brishie, Minnigaff; Knocknishy, Whithorn; and Shawn, Stoneykirk.

THE BROWNIE.

The "Brownie," as already indicated, was a domestic spirit of a familiar and useful kind. Grotesque in figure, small in stature, but very strong, his presence and help were cheerfully accepted in the farm-steading or household he elected to serve. His self-imposed and often heavy task was always performed in the dark hours of the night. No work came amiss to Brownie--reaping, threshing, sheep-shearing, and gathering, churning, and even meaner kitchen drudgery--and all in the most disinterested fashion, a bowl of cream, or as Nicholson phrases it, "a cogfu' o' brose" being all that he would accept at their hands. The offer, indeed, of other than this simple food, or the leaving out for him of clothing, was fatal, and compelled Brownie, in obedience to some condition of his existence not understood, to forsake the abode of the gift-givers and depart, generally reluctantly, to seek other quarters.

However arduous the efforts of the night it would seem that he was always finished in sufficient good time to drink his cream at leasure and blow up the smouldering embers of the fire to bask his full length in its warmth, for at heart Brownie was, when not actually working, much disposed to take his ease. At first cock-crow, however, he disappeared.

Endowed with a life of many years, he seems to have been attached in some instances to the same family for generations, but his service was only given to good and worthy people, although isolated instances of help to the unfortunate poor were common enough experiences.

He would also seem to have had the moral welfare of young folks at heart, and would seat himself at the kitchen fireside and listen to their chatter. He was singularly alive to unworthy intentions, particularly in connection with love affairs, which he took means of opposing in his own way.

The prosperity of the family with whom he had attached himself was affected by their disposition and actions towards him, of which the following is an example:--

"A place called Liethin Hall, in Dumfriesshire, was the hereditary dwelling of a noted brownie. He had lived there, as he once communicated in confidence to an old woman, for three hundred years. He appeared only once to every new master, and indeed seldom shewed more than his hand to anyone. On the decease of a beloved master he was heard to make moan, and would not partake of his wonted delicacy for many days. The heir of the land arrived from foreign parts and took possession of his father's inheritance. The faithful Brownie shewed himself, and profered homage. The spruce Laird was offended to see such a famine-faced, wrinkled domestic, and ordered him meat and drink, with a new suit of clean livery. The brownie departed, repeating loud and frequently these ruin-boding lines--

'Ca, cuttie, ca! A' the luck o' Liethin Ha' Gangs wi' me to Bodsbeck Ha.'

Liethin Ha' was, in a few years, in ruins, and 'bonnie Bodsbeck' flourished under the luck-bringing patronage of the brownie."(64)

In the olden days there was a brownie attached to the family of Maxwell of Dalswinton said to be so energetic as to easily perform the work of ten men, and threshing with such vigour as to keep the servants awake at nights with the dirling of its elfin flail.

He seems to have been passionately devoted to the service of the Laird's daughter, a strikingly comely dame. A lover naturally appeared, and their meetings were made all the easier through Brownie's help, and eventually he saw his beloved lady married to a husband he heartily approved of.

"In course of time the hour of need came nigh, and a servant was sent away to bring the 'canny wife.' The night was dark as a December night could be, and the wind was heavy among the groves of oak. The brownie, enraged at the loitering serving-man, wrapped himself in his lady's fur cloak; and though the Nith was foaming high flood, his steed, impelled by supernatural spur and whip, passed it like an arrow. Mounting the dame behind him, he took the deep water back again to the amazement of the worthy woman, who beheld the red waves tumbling around her, yet the steed's foot-locks were dry.

'Ride nae by the auld pool,' quo' she, 'lest we should meet wi' Brownie.'

He replied--'Fear nae, dame, ye've met a' the brownies ye will meet.'