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    East Lothian Folk Tales for Children
    East Lothian Folk Tales for Children
    East Lothian Folk Tales for Children
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    East Lothian Folk Tales for Children

    By Tim Porteus and Morvern Graham

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    About this ebook

    East Lothian’s landscape has stories sewn into it. In this collection there are tales of witches and wizards, of magical creatures and eerie happenings. There are pirates and smugglers, giants and ogres. You will discover the whispered secrets of Kings and Queens, and of strange goings on.These are stories every child who has a connection to East Lothian should know. And each tale is connected to a place in the county you can visit.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherThe History Press
    Release dateNov 1, 2018
    ISBN9780750990288
    East Lothian Folk Tales for Children
    Author

    Tim Porteus

    TIM PORTEUS is a professional storyteller who uses traditional folklore and local historical tales to connect people, and enhance a sense of place and identity. He has an MA (Honours) in History, and has told stories in schools, libraries, festivals, and at private functions and gigs for many years. He is an experienced tour guide and storytelling is a central part of this work. As well as writing a weekly column called ‘Tim’s Tales’ for the East Lothian Courier, he has also been involved in storytelling abroad as part of cultural programmes at universities in the Czech Republic and Portugal, and at schools and cultural events in Spain, Germany, Sweden and Slovakia. He lives in East Lothian.

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      Book preview

      East Lothian Folk Tales for Children - Tim Porteus

      Mairi

      INTRODUCTION

      When I was young I used to read stories of the great adventurers who had ‘discovered’ Africa, Australia and America. I read all about the pioneers of the American West, the great merchants who travelled to Asia, and the explorers of the North and South Poles. I was fascinated by these stories, but they also made me feel disappointed. You see, it seemed to me that by the time I grew up, there would be no place left for me to discover, no adventure left.

      But, of course, I was wrong. For a start, almost every discovery of a place we have read about was actually already discovered. People already lived in Africa, Australia and America, before it was ‘discovered’ by explorers. OK, maybe not the North and South Poles, but even then we cannot be sure!

      I began to realise that discovery is actually a very personal thing. When I went on camping holidays with my family in the Highlands, I made lots of discoveries: ruined castles, secret caves, hideouts in the woods and even the ghost tracks of an old railway.

      And as an adult I have been making discoveries in the beautiful county of East Lothian, where I live, and where I spent part of my childhood. There are caves, ruined castles, rocks by the sea, ancient woods, magical hills and hidden waterfalls. Many of these places have a story connected to them which adds to the adventure of discovering them.

      That’s why many of the tales in this book are also about a place you can discover. Unfortunately, some are more difficult to get to if your family doesn’t have a car, but many can be reached without one.

      I really hope you enjoy these stories. Just so you know, a couple are a wee bit scary, and a couple have some gory bits. And I have also included some Scots words. There are not many, but if you can’t understand them then there is a glossary at the back that translates them into English.

      Happy reading, and happy exploring!

      Tim the Storyteller

      1

      BOGLE HILL AND THE PROMISE TO THE FAERIES

      This story was told to me by Archie Johnston, a fisherman from Cockenzie. He has been a fisherman all his adult life. He is also a great storyteller and has kindly agreed to allow me to share this version of his story with you.

      The tale takes us back to the time when the Wee Folk used to dance and gather in Bogle Hill Wood. The Wee Folk was the name people used for the faeries. Most of the wood was cut down to make Longniddry Golf Course, but some say the faeries still meet there after the golfers have finished playing.

      Bogle Hill is the faerie hill where the Wee Folk are said to live. You will find it if you walk from the car park of Niddrie Bents 2 towards a small wooden bridge. Cross the bridge over the burn and follow the path as it curves round. Look inland here and notice a collection of tiny mounds. This is Bogle Hill.

      There are bushes of Sea Buckthorn and Hawthorn covering the hill. In the spring bluebells decorate part of it, for everyone knows this is a faerie flower.

      Walk carefully and stay on the path, in case you disturb the Wee Folk. They don’t like being woken or disturbed. But they are kind to those who show kindness. They also believe a promise is a promise, as this story shows.

      One day, in the days of herring fishing, a young boy from Cockenzie was collecting wood by the beach at Longniddry. He had walked quite far from home and had collected a large bundle of sticks, so he decided to rest for a moment. As he did so, he saw an old woman walking on the beach.

      She was carrying a creel on her back, which was full of driftwood and sticks. She looked very old, had a crooked back and the creel looked heavy. She tried to pick up a piece of wood lying on the sand but as she did so her creel slipped, and the sticks spilled out.

      The old woman seemed very upset at this, so the young boy rushed over to help her pick up the scattered pieces of wood. He then put them carefully back into the creel.

      ‘Och, whit a guid lad ye are, tae help an auld woman like that,’ she said. ‘And whit a good job you have done,’ she added with a smile, admiring the way he’d carefully stacked the sticks in her basket.

      ‘I’m used tae filling a creel,’ he said. ‘My mother is a fishwife, and my faither is – er, was – a fisherman.’ His father had been lost at sea not so long ago, but he didn’t want to say. The sadness was too heavy to talk about.

      But the old woman understood.

      ‘I must thank you for your kind help,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’

      The boy had been taught to do good deeds without expecting a reward, but he wondered what he might get in return for his help, so he followed her. He noticed that her back didn’t seem as crooked and bent as before. She also carried the heavy creel as if it wasn’t heavy at all and walked so fast he could hardly keep up with her.

      Soon they arrived at the edge of a small hill.

      The old woman pointed to a small hole in the side of the slope. ‘Put your hands in there,’ she said, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

      He really wasn’t sure.

      ‘Trust me,’ she told him, ‘you will get your reward. Put your hands in, palms upways.’

      He decided to trust her and so he knelt down and carefully placed both hands into the small opening in the ground. Suddenly he felt something touch his palms and in a panic he clasped his hands and pulled them out.

      He unfurled his fingers and saw that he now had two gold coins, one in each hand.

      ‘See,’ said the old woman, ‘that is tae repay your kindness. There are mair, but only when you truly need them.’ Then her face turned serious. ‘But you must not tell anyone where you got them from, do you promise me that?’

      ‘I promise,’ said the boy, looking at the coins. ‘I promise I won’t tell anyone.’ When he looked up, the old woman was gone. There was no sign of her. In that moment he realised the place was Bogle Hill, and everyone knew it was a faerie hill.

      ‘Thank you, faerie woman,’ he whispered under his breath.

      The young lad ran home so fast his lungs nearly burst. His mother was preparing a simple dinner when he arrived.

      ‘Maw, Maw, wait till you see what I have,’ he said, almost unable to speak with excitement.

      ‘Did you not get wood for the fire, son?’

      ‘Never mind aboot that, Maw – look!’ He put the gold coins on the table.

      It was a lot of money, but his mother did not look happy.

      ‘Oh ma lord, where did ye get them? Please, son, tell me you haven’t been stealing.’

      ‘No, Mother, of course not, they were given tae me,’ the boy replied, hurt at the suggestion that he’d steal.

      But his mother couldn’t imagine who would give him so much money. She wanted to believe him, but she had to make sure.

      ‘Who gave you the coins then, son? Please, tell me the truth.’

      He was now in a terrible dilemma; how could he tell the truth without breaking his promise? He hesitated to answer, and his mother took this to mean he was feeling

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