SCOTTISH MYTHS, LEGENDS AND TALES ...

...MYTH - a story about superhuman beings of an earlier age taken by preliterate society to be a true account, usually of how natural phenomena, social customs, etc., came into existence.

... LEGEND - a popular story handed down from earlier times whose truth has not been ascertained.

Scottish folklore has a broad base to draw from, therefore, and it's reflected by the fact that a fair number of the myths and legends are very similar to those of others of these countries, particulary from Ireland, after the colonisation of Argyll by the Scots from Ireland in the fifth century, and the long-term fighting, alliances,settlements in the North and on the Islands, with and by the peoples from Scandinavia.

We will tell tales from all airts (directions) and ages; tales of valour, of love, of treachery and honour. Tales of Gods, and of the Faerie Folk, of honest souls and the Devils' own; stories from the Highlands and the Lowlands; Border Ballads and chronicles of Kings. Some short, some long; some happy, some sad. And all in no parrticularr orrderr.

And now, to the Tales..

The Kelpie of Loch Garve.

How the Corrievrechan got its name...

The Legend of the Saltire Flag.

The Tale of Thomas the Rhymer.

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The Kelpie of Loch Garve lived way down in the deepest part of that Loch, in a dark, cold, lair. Now, he was very happy with his home, which suited him just grand, but his puir wee wifie was not at all happy with it. She was always cold, and her life was a constant misery as she struggled through her shivers to keep warm. The Kelpie - who never felt the cold - could not understand, and for a long while, thought his wife was just fussing over nothing.

But as time went by, and her complaining got louder and longer, the Kelpie realised that he would have to do something to make her life more comfortable, or she would not stay with him - and he did not want this, for he loved her, really. So he gave considerable thought to what he could do.

One day, he swam up to the edge of the loch, and turned himself into a beautiful horse. Then, he galloped to the house of a man known in these parts as a builder who could build almost anything you wanted. When he arrived at the man's house, he neighed and stamped till the builder came out.

The man was, of course, amazed to see such a beautiful animal at his door, and at that, a horse which seemed to want him to mount. So he climbed on. Now, as soon as the man was on his back, off galloped the Kelpie. The poor builder was terrified, for he could not get off the horse's back, and they were heading straight for the Loch at some speed. "Michty," he thought; "this will be the end of me..." as they raced into the cold dark waters, and kept going down, and down, and down...

...but the Kelpie did not want him harmed, and the man found he was able to breathe quite normally. When they got to the bottom of the Loch, and arrived at the Kelpie's home, the water spirit explained to him how his poor wee wifie was so miserable with the forever coldness and dampness, and asked the builder if he could help. If he would, the Kelpie would take him safely back to dry land, and promised to keep him well supplied with fresh fish, whenever he wanted it.

So the builder agreed, and started work immediately. He made a grand big fireplace in the Kelpie's home, with a muckle great chimney to take the smoke away to the surface of the Loch. When the first fire was lit, the Kelpies wife was so happy, and the Kelpie was happy too, to see the smile on her face. He returned the builder to his home, as he had promised, and kept him well supplied with fresh fish for the rest of his days.

Now, the tale goes that, even in the worst and coldest of winters, when every burn, river and loch is frozen over - there's aye one wee bit of the surface of Loch Garve which stays free of the ice. You see, far below the surface, the Kelpie's fire burns merrily, keeping his wifie warm, and the heat from the chimney stops the water round it from freezing.

*****

HOW THE CORRIEVRECHAN GOT ITS NAME...

How was it named? there are a few theories and variations, but here are two:-

**Long ago, the people of the area believed that the Gulf of Corrievrechan was where the Hag of Winter (The Cailleach Bheur) washed her plaid. The Cailleach was believed to be an old-woman goddess, responsible for spreading the harshness and whiteness of winter.

As winter approached, she would would use the gulf as her washtub, to wash her plaid; and the tempest resulting could be heard twenty miles away. This could last for up to three days and, when she was finished, the cloth was pure white, becoming the blanket of snow covering the land.

and...

** Once upon a time, there was a Scandinavian Prince called Breachan, or Breakan. He fell in love with a Hebridean Princess but, unwilling to part with his beautiful daughter, her father made a condition: Breachan had to anchor his boat - with him in it, of course - over the whirlpool for three consecutive nights.

Breachan took advice as to how he might defeat the awesome might of this giant whirlpool; wise men gave him the solution. So he had three anchor-ropes made- one of hemp; one of wool; and one of Scandinavian Maidens' hair. (it was believed that if the others failed, the purity and innocence of the Maidens would ensure the hair rope was strong enough).

On the first night, the hempen rope failed - but the other two held.

On the second night, the woolen rope failed - but the maiden-hair rope held.

On the third night ............. the third rope broke - and Breachan's boat was swallowed up by the whirlpool, drowning himself and most of his crew. The sole-surviving crewman and Breachan's dog dragged the body of Breakan ashore - he was buried in the King's Cave.

When the crewman finally made it home again and told of Breachan's fate, one of the young Scandinavian ladies was overcome by guilt, as she was not as pure as she had made out; it had been her hair which weakened the rope.

*****

The LEGEND of the SALTIRE FLAG

There are various versions of the tale to be found in the older Scottish historians. They are generally agreed, however, that an army of the Picts under their King Angus (or Hungus) aided by a contingent of the Scots was invading Lothian (then and for long afterwards Northumbrian territory), and found itself surrounded by an overwhelming force of the Angles under their leader Athelstan. King Angus and his host prayed earnestly for deliverance to God and the saints.

That night St. Andrew ( the Patron Saint of Scotland ) appeared to the king and promised him victory. Next day. when battle was joined, the vision of a white saltire (the diagonal cross on which that Apostle had been martyred) was seen by all against the blue sky. This so encouraged the Picts and Scots and affrighted their adversaries that the former won a signal victory.

In the pursuit, so the tradition goes on, the Northumbrian leader Athelstan was slain at the crossing of the Peffer or Cogtail Burn, the site of which is marked by Athelstaneford Mains Farm, about half a mile south-east of the village.

The Saltire is also known as the Saint Andrew's Cross.

*****

Thomas Rymer - the story of Thomas the Rhymer and the Queen of the Faeries.

Long ago, the town of Earlston in the Scottish Borders was just a tiny hamlet, called Ercildoune. In these days, Thomas Rymer was a well-kent local character, for he was the Laird. He was a gifted harpist, and was forever making up rhymes and songs. He was often seen sitting by the roadside playing his wee harp and trying out a new song he'd written, or driving his cattle to market with his harp slung across his back.

When he was a young man, Thomas was a great lad for the Lauderdale lassies; he was aye teasing them, joking and flirting, and sometimes he would make up a song for them. His cattle often got to wander off while he was chattin' up a likely wench.

One May morning, he was sitting by the Huntlie Burn, playing on his harp. With his back to a muckle thorn tree - called the Eildon Tree - he was plucking a magic, haunting melody when suddenly, he spied a lady riding down by the waterside. She was clad all in shimmering green (the favourite colour of the Faerie Folk) and she rode a milk-white steed. As she rode, the bells on her horse's bridle jingled merrily.

Thomas was entranced; he had never seen such a lovely lady, and couldn't take his eyes off her. His playing grew slower and slower, and finally stopped when Thomas rose in wonder to his feet, gave a low bow, and murmured to her - "Greetings, lovely Lady; you must be the Queen of Heaven"

"Oh, no, Thomas", she replied; "that is another. But I am the Queen Of the Faerie Folk in fair Elfland, and have come to visit you. I have heard you singing, and would listen to you all day long. Finish your song, and you may kiss my lips. And then you must come with me to Elfland".

"That is not a thing to frighten me," said Thomas. But the Queen told him: "one kiss of my rosy,red lips will bind you to me in Elfland for seven years; you must serve me all that time, through weal or woe, good times and bad!"

But Thomas was already under the Queen's sweet spell and, when his song was over, he kissed her, long and hard. Then she took Thomas to ride behind her, and they galloped off, bridle jingling merrily, over fields and moors and mountains.

At last, they came to a fork where three roads met. The Queen showed Thomas firstly, a narrow track into the hills, all beset with thorns and briars; this was the path of righteousness, taken by few travellers on life's journey. The second road was broad, flat and grassy; it led through a pretty meadow, and was the easy path to wickedness (Thomas had heard about these two paths from the priest at the little church of Ercildoune). But the Queen took Thomas down the third road, a winding fernie brae that led to fair Elfland.

As night was falling and the shadows lengthened, they reached their destination. But the Queen had one more instruction for Thomas. "Thomas", she said, "you will be with me now for full seven years; during all of this time, you must be silent - and speak NOT ONE WORD. If you do speak, but one word, you will be my servant for ever; you will never see Ercildoune again."

Thomas was well looked after in Elfland; he was given a silken green outfit like the Faerie Folk, and for his seven years, he served the Queen well and happily. He played his harp for her, and the Court would often dance to his sweet music. And in all these seven years, he uttered not one single solitary word.

Then one day the Queen spoke to Thomas. "Our seven years are gone now, Thomas, and you must return home. You have served me well and loyally, and have kept your silence. I shall miss you, my Thomas!"

So Thomas was free, and made his way back to Ercildoune. When he and the Queen finally parted, she gave him a large apple from her own orchard. "If you eat this", she said, "it will grant you two precious gifts - of Truth and of Prophecy. And it will make you rich and famous. Farewell, my Thomas."

When Thomas finally came home, his wife's black hair was flecked with grey, and his children were grown up. Thomas was a changed person, too -older, quieter, and flirting no more. He had eaten the apple, and now he noticed all the blemishes of the lassies of Lauderdale. And as he now always spoke the truth, the lassies did not like him nearly as much. (You can tell a lass her hair is golden, but it's quite another thing to tell her it's like a haystack!)

Thomas still played his harp, though, and made up his songs; mind you, he often had a far-away look in his eye. Everybody wondered where he had been for these seven years, but for some reason no-one ever dared to ask him; so no one knew, and the people could only guess.

Thomas began to get a reputation as a wise man in the area; he always spoke true, and he could foresee the future. He became known as "True Thomas", and this local fame spread throughout Scotland when he correctly foretold the death of King Alexander the Third, who died from a fall off his horse in 1286. Thomas had predicted the means and the place, and from that time on, supplicants came from near and far to consult him on all manner of things - and paid him handsomely for his prophecies.

So Thomas became both rich and famous - just as the Faerie Queen had said; but as time went on, he became more and more remote from reality, as his mind kept taking him back to Elfland and his Queen. One evening, when he was sitting in the moonlight, his mind far, far away, one of his sons came to whisper in his ear: "Faither; there's rumour of a white doe grazing at the entrance to the park...". Now, Thomas knew that a white deer is almost certainly a visitor from The Other Country so, without a word to anyone, he took his harp from its hook, slung it over his shoulder, and slipped out into the silver moonlight of the castle park. He soon spied the faerie deer and, together, they vanished into the night.

Thomas Rymer was never seen again in this world; but his prophecies and his story are remembered to this day.

If you'd like to tell US a scottish tale, or ask us to find one, CLICK HERE to go from Scottish Myths to the Suggestions page.