TAM GIFFEN.

Aboutthe middle of the last century, Thomas, or as he was popularly called, “Tam Giffen,” resided, or I may rather say wandered, in the parishes of Kilbirnie, Beith, and Dunlop, as a mendicant. He is reported to have been a stout-built man, of something more than middle age, of a sourish turn of mind; and was in the habit of giving laconic, mysterious answers to those who dared to ask him questions. Much superstition abounded in the country at that time; and “Tam’s” aspect, which was remarkably forbidding, together with his strange disposition, soon attracted the awe-stricken attention of the simple peasantry, who went so far as to call him aWarlock. Tam, with the shrewdness of a crafty mind, made use of this folly and superstitious fear for his own aggrandisement; and few, after a time, dared refuse him an alms, from his “uncanny” notoriety. Of the many strange and unaccountable stories still related of him. I will narrate the following:—

“One day when the water of Lugton, which separates the parishes of Beith and Dunlop, was rolling “from bank to brae,” and the holms were in a flooded state, Tam was observed on the opposite bank by some people. Happening to lose sight of him for a few minutes, what was their astonishment to find Tam standing beside them, high and dry! The water, which was full and over-flowing, was more than thirty feet in width, and no bridge nearer than two miles. To the hurried question, how he got across, he quickly replied—”Hoo, I didna come across ata, I was in a hurry, and just came through below it.”

At another time, a remarkably pious man, in the parish of Dunlop, during a high gale of wind, ascended to the roof of his house, which, according to the custom of the time, was of thatch; laid a number of stones and sticks on the roof, to prevent the wind from blowing the thatch away; and while on the roof, according to his own account, a tremendous whirlwind swept round and nearly overthrew him. He mentally ejaculated, “God save me,” and held on by the rigging. His bonnet and wig were blown away—where, he could not tell. Next day, after the storm was abated, he went again on the roof of the house, to mend the damage which had been done. Looking down, he perceived “Tam” standing at the foot of the ladder, and surveying him with a most sinister gaze. “Ye held on weel yesterday,” exclaimed Tam; “gin ye hadna whispered ‘God save me’, we wud ha blawn ye doun, but we took awa your wig and bonnet: gae awa doun tae the well in the meadow, and ye’ll get them lying there, aside the sauch bush.” The man accordingly went, and, in the exact spot, found his wig and bonnet.

An honest blacksmith, one evening, going to weld two pieces of iron together, called on his apprentice, who was reported to be aheedlessyouth, to come and assist him in beating the iron. After calling once or twice, and receiving no answer, he angrily exclaimed, “I may just as weel cry on Tam Giffen.” “What do ye want,” whispered a voice behind him, which was no other than Tam’s: “I was just fleeing through the air wi’ a wheen o’ them that’s gaun awa to dance in Kilbride kirk-yard the nicht, and I thocht I wad come in an’ see what ye wanted wi’ me.” “Did ye come in at the door,” exclaimed the astonished blacksmith. “No, I just drapped doun the lum—but I maun awa’, or they’ll miss me:” so saying, he instantly disappeared.

At last “Tam” was discovered lying dead on the banks of the Garnock water, near Garrit Linn, in a wild and solitary glen, in the parish of Kilbirnie. According to tradition, he was murdered by the fairies for disclosing some of their secrets. He was buried in Kilbirnie churchyard; and his grave is still pointed out to the curious.

TAM GIFFEN.

Aul’ grannie sat carding her woo by the fireOn a caul winter eve; and, as midnicht drew nigher,The bairns gathered roun’ her and quitted their gleeTo list to a tale: mony aul’ tales had sheO’ brownies, an’ spunkies, and wee merry men,That dance in green jackets a’ nicht in the glen,O’ ghosts an’ wild spectres, in aul’ castles grey,That haud their wild revelries till break o’ day.In a circle aroun her the wee bairnies drew,An’ eerie they leuked at the fire burning blue,Nae whispering was heard when aul’ grannie beganTae tell o’ “Tam Giffen,” the wild warlock man:Lang, lang in the warld won’d warlock Tam,Nae ane could tell frae what kintra he cam,He seemed like a stranger on earth left forlorn,And some said he ne’er in the warld was born.He wandered the kintra, east, north, south, and west,And gaed aye to ca’ on them wha used him best!Alane in some glen he at morn micht be seen,But nae ane kent whar he micht be or ’twas e’en:Pale, pale was his lank cheek, but dark lowered his brow,An’ his black e’e seemed glancing wi’ unearthly lowe,He lauched at the sorrows that made ithers weep,An’ never was he kent to slumber or sleep.In through the key hole, or doun through the lum,When the doors were a’ barred, he at midnicht wad come—Or afar in some glen wi’ the bogles wad be,A’ the dead o’ the nicht, haudin’ unholy glee—Or dancing wi’ fairies far ben in the wud,Or sailing in cockle-shells far o’er the flud,Or fleeing wi’ witches awa’ through the air,Or doing dark deeds that I daurna declare.Wi’ a sly noiseless step butt the house he wud come,And set himsel’ doun by the side o’ the lum,An’ mutter dark words wi’ a strange eldrich soun’,An’ leuk as if something was steerin’ aroun’Whilk naebody ever could see but himsel’—An’ then to the folk he wud strange stories tellO’ witches and spectres, and grim goblins near,That, flitting in corners, to him did appear.When a tempest was brewing afar in the sky,There aye was a wildness in Tam Giffen’s eye,An’ awa’ out o’ sicht he wad soon disappear,Crying wark’s to be dune and I daurna bide here;An’ aften wad gude folk in terror declareHe rade in the black storm on high in the air,Leading whirlwinds onward o’er valley an’ hill,Working mischief an’ ruin to gude and to ill.When Tam saw a priest he grew wild as a stirk,And never wad enter the door o’ a kirk:If ony are near him attempted to pray,In a moment Tam Giffen wad vanish away;If ony by chance ever mentioned his name,Soon, soon to their terror and wonder he came,An’ speired what they wanted by calling him there,When he had got business to do in the air.Ae nicht when a revel o’ goblins had been,Far doun in the glen on the mune-lichted green,Tam shared in their glee, and next morning telt a’The wonderful things that he heard and he saw;Then the fairies an’ goblins an’ witches did meetBy Garrit’s deep linn—a wild, lonely, retreat—An’ wailings were heard on the dread midnicht air,An’ Tam Giffen, next morning, was found lifeless there.

Aul’ grannie sat carding her woo by the fire

On a caul winter eve; and, as midnicht drew nigher,

The bairns gathered roun’ her and quitted their glee

To list to a tale: mony aul’ tales had she

O’ brownies, an’ spunkies, and wee merry men,

That dance in green jackets a’ nicht in the glen,

O’ ghosts an’ wild spectres, in aul’ castles grey,

That haud their wild revelries till break o’ day.

In a circle aroun her the wee bairnies drew,An’ eerie they leuked at the fire burning blue,Nae whispering was heard when aul’ grannie beganTae tell o’ “Tam Giffen,” the wild warlock man:Lang, lang in the warld won’d warlock Tam,Nae ane could tell frae what kintra he cam,He seemed like a stranger on earth left forlorn,And some said he ne’er in the warld was born.

In a circle aroun her the wee bairnies drew,

An’ eerie they leuked at the fire burning blue,

Nae whispering was heard when aul’ grannie began

Tae tell o’ “Tam Giffen,” the wild warlock man:

Lang, lang in the warld won’d warlock Tam,

Nae ane could tell frae what kintra he cam,

He seemed like a stranger on earth left forlorn,

And some said he ne’er in the warld was born.

He wandered the kintra, east, north, south, and west,And gaed aye to ca’ on them wha used him best!Alane in some glen he at morn micht be seen,But nae ane kent whar he micht be or ’twas e’en:Pale, pale was his lank cheek, but dark lowered his brow,An’ his black e’e seemed glancing wi’ unearthly lowe,He lauched at the sorrows that made ithers weep,An’ never was he kent to slumber or sleep.

He wandered the kintra, east, north, south, and west,

And gaed aye to ca’ on them wha used him best!

Alane in some glen he at morn micht be seen,

But nae ane kent whar he micht be or ’twas e’en:

Pale, pale was his lank cheek, but dark lowered his brow,

An’ his black e’e seemed glancing wi’ unearthly lowe,

He lauched at the sorrows that made ithers weep,

An’ never was he kent to slumber or sleep.

In through the key hole, or doun through the lum,When the doors were a’ barred, he at midnicht wad come—Or afar in some glen wi’ the bogles wad be,A’ the dead o’ the nicht, haudin’ unholy glee—Or dancing wi’ fairies far ben in the wud,Or sailing in cockle-shells far o’er the flud,Or fleeing wi’ witches awa’ through the air,Or doing dark deeds that I daurna declare.

In through the key hole, or doun through the lum,

When the doors were a’ barred, he at midnicht wad come—

Or afar in some glen wi’ the bogles wad be,

A’ the dead o’ the nicht, haudin’ unholy glee—

Or dancing wi’ fairies far ben in the wud,

Or sailing in cockle-shells far o’er the flud,

Or fleeing wi’ witches awa’ through the air,

Or doing dark deeds that I daurna declare.

Wi’ a sly noiseless step butt the house he wud come,And set himsel’ doun by the side o’ the lum,An’ mutter dark words wi’ a strange eldrich soun’,An’ leuk as if something was steerin’ aroun’Whilk naebody ever could see but himsel’—An’ then to the folk he wud strange stories tellO’ witches and spectres, and grim goblins near,That, flitting in corners, to him did appear.

Wi’ a sly noiseless step butt the house he wud come,

And set himsel’ doun by the side o’ the lum,

An’ mutter dark words wi’ a strange eldrich soun’,

An’ leuk as if something was steerin’ aroun’

Whilk naebody ever could see but himsel’—

An’ then to the folk he wud strange stories tell

O’ witches and spectres, and grim goblins near,

That, flitting in corners, to him did appear.

When a tempest was brewing afar in the sky,There aye was a wildness in Tam Giffen’s eye,An’ awa’ out o’ sicht he wad soon disappear,Crying wark’s to be dune and I daurna bide here;An’ aften wad gude folk in terror declareHe rade in the black storm on high in the air,Leading whirlwinds onward o’er valley an’ hill,Working mischief an’ ruin to gude and to ill.

When a tempest was brewing afar in the sky,

There aye was a wildness in Tam Giffen’s eye,

An’ awa’ out o’ sicht he wad soon disappear,

Crying wark’s to be dune and I daurna bide here;

An’ aften wad gude folk in terror declare

He rade in the black storm on high in the air,

Leading whirlwinds onward o’er valley an’ hill,

Working mischief an’ ruin to gude and to ill.

When Tam saw a priest he grew wild as a stirk,And never wad enter the door o’ a kirk:If ony are near him attempted to pray,In a moment Tam Giffen wad vanish away;If ony by chance ever mentioned his name,Soon, soon to their terror and wonder he came,An’ speired what they wanted by calling him there,When he had got business to do in the air.

When Tam saw a priest he grew wild as a stirk,

And never wad enter the door o’ a kirk:

If ony are near him attempted to pray,

In a moment Tam Giffen wad vanish away;

If ony by chance ever mentioned his name,

Soon, soon to their terror and wonder he came,

An’ speired what they wanted by calling him there,

When he had got business to do in the air.

Ae nicht when a revel o’ goblins had been,Far doun in the glen on the mune-lichted green,Tam shared in their glee, and next morning telt a’The wonderful things that he heard and he saw;Then the fairies an’ goblins an’ witches did meetBy Garrit’s deep linn—a wild, lonely, retreat—An’ wailings were heard on the dread midnicht air,An’ Tam Giffen, next morning, was found lifeless there.

Ae nicht when a revel o’ goblins had been,

Far doun in the glen on the mune-lichted green,

Tam shared in their glee, and next morning telt a’

The wonderful things that he heard and he saw;

Then the fairies an’ goblins an’ witches did meet

By Garrit’s deep linn—a wild, lonely, retreat—

An’ wailings were heard on the dread midnicht air,

An’ Tam Giffen, next morning, was found lifeless there.

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