The Horsieman

by Ducan Williamson

  Buggie said, ‘I’ve got a wife tae!’

  I said, ‘I ken, I see that.’ He had Mary with him. And they were only about four days together, but old Mary Whyte had consented to them before they’d left Aberdeen. Her daughter could go with Buggie because it was her cousin, you see, and they had been reared together. Old Mary didn’t worry so much about her. So he and me, and Jeannie and Mary, we sat together cracking at the fire in this old ruins of this house. We made plans, oh, all these great plans what we’re going to do.

  So Sandy had given me a cover, but I couldn’t get any camp stick – there was not a camp stick to be gotten in this garden. So I went into the house and I took a couple of pieces of raft off the door, and I built a bivi, a marquis tent with two poles. I put some stones round it, and I went and cut some rashes and made a bed. Jeannie was kind of shan, with other folk next to us. We were only about two nights together. I said, ‘Come on, get the bed made!’ And she was awfully ashamed. She was very easy shanned. I said, ‘Come on, ye’re a mairriet woman now, so get the bed made!’ So I cut these rashes and made this tent. We sat, cracked and made tea for a long while.

  Sandy said to me, ‘Brother, you stay wi yir Uncle Sandy and we’ll go to Forfar, to Rescobie Loch. The wands is growin like corn. Me and you, we’ll cut wands, make baskets.’ And Jeannie used to go and hawk with Katie and her mother, since she was only five years old. Old Sandy kent Jeannie was a really good hawker. And he said, ‘Me and you’ll make baskets together. We’ll get a pony between us. We’ll buy one horse between hus first. We’ll buy it fir you.’ This was the plan. ‘Suppose it’s only a wee Shetland, jist something to pull the cloots and pull the bits o camp. And me and you can hawk wi hit. You pay me back and we’ll get another horse.’

  I said, ‘All right, Uncle Sandy, that’ll dae.’ So all the plans were made. I said, ‘Sandy, I’m definitely needin a pony. All my days, all my life I’ve been lookin for a horse now. I could have had a horse a long time ago but I cam to the consideration, what was ae body daein wi a horse . . . folk would speak aboot me. Noo I’ve got a wife, I definitely cannae dae withoot a horse. Never mind nothing, a horse has got to be the first priority!’

  He said, ‘Brother, dinna worry, you’ll get a horse. You stay wi yir Uncle Sandy, you’ll get a horse!’

  So we travelled on and I put my cover on top of Sandy’s pram. I was pushing it. Jeannie says to me, ‘Ye cannae keep yir bits o cloots,26 hae other folk hurlin yir wee bits o cloots alang the road.’ She was always like that. And we stayed at an old road beside the graveyard at Montrose on the way to Rescobie Loch. She and Aunt Katie went away to the town. And Jeannie came back. She had this great big double pram, oh, beautiful! This was as good to you as a horse in these days! And she hurled it up.

  She says, ‘I got this pram. It’ll help hurl yir ain things.’ It had big high wheels and there was plenty o room, you know, you could put a lot of stuff into it. A pram may seem little to you. But it was the entire means of life to these folk. They could pack their blankets into it, they could put their tent on it and they could tie their camp sticks round the side and their dishes on the top. You could walk and just shove it easily. So she’d got this pram, and this was the start, the first beginning.

  Sandy says to me, ‘Oh. brother, that’s a good pram, a real good thing. That’ll hurl a lot o stuff.’ Jeannie had begged it in a house. I’ve seen travellers hurling scrap, rags and woollens with a pram till they got the price of a horse. Many’s a body today is well off who had started with a pram! So the first thing I did was take the hood off it, flung it away.

  ‘Doll,’ I said, ‘that’s fine, that’ll just dae, the very thing!’ Now she and I were on the road, see! We were on our own, we had our pram, we had our cover, we had our blankets. That’s all we needed. We could build a tent, we could go on the road anytime. Nothing stopped us. We were free and easy, we could go as we liked.

  THE BROKEN TOKEN

  O a pretty fair maid walking in her garden,

  When a handsome sailor came walking by,

  And as he viewed her he stepped up to her

  Sayin, ‘Fair you’ maid would you fancy I?’

  ‘To fancy you, sir, it would not do, sir,

  For I have a true lover of my own,

  And he’s but a true and a faithful sailor

  And seven long years now since he’s been gone.

  But seven long years make no alteration

  Another seven I’ll wait for him,

  And if he is wed, sure I wish him happy

  And if he’s dead, sure I wish him rest.’

  He said, ‘Do you see that big castell up yonder?

  And do you see all those lilies white?

  I will but give you its gold and silver

  If you will be my true love tonight!’

  She said, ‘What do I care for your castell up yonder,

  What do I care for your lilies white;

  What do I care for your gold and silver

  If my own true lover was here tonight!’

  He put his hand all into his pocket,

  His fingers were so genteel and small;

  He brought out a ring that was broke between them

  And when she saw it she down did fall.

  He picked her up all into his arms

  Then he gave her kisses one and two,

  Sayin, ‘I am your true and your faithful sailor

  And I’ve come home, dear, to marry you!’

  Traditional

  CHAPTER NINE

  BEGGARS, THIEVES AND STRANGERS

  So the next morning I packed my pram and put the blankets in the bottom. Whatever bits o clothes Jeannie had, I put them on. And I folded the covers on the top, put the two poles o the camp on and I had plenty of room. Sandy’s watching me like a crow. He had this wee bit o a pram, small wheels, and it was awfully hard to shove.

  He says to me, ‘Brother, I couldna shove that. That’s finished, that pram.’ See, this is the way o him. ‘That’s completely finished. Brother, you’ve bings o room. Why don’t you pack all my wee bits o stuff on top o yir pram and we’ll shove it between hus?’

  ‘I’m game,’ I said, ‘that’s all right.’ So once you tie a lot along the side of a pram, it broadens the top and then you can build more stuff on. For all he had anyway, two sets of sticks and his two-three blankets, two-three dishes, pots and pans and that. It was nae bother. Because they were all packed up nice and easy. So we packed everything on the top of this big pram that Jeannie had got. And he flung his pram away.

  So he said, ‘Brother, there’s an old road oot the other side o Stonehaven. We could stay there fir the night.’ It wasn’t far. So we made our way to this old road. We landed there and Jeannie and old Katie went away to the town to sell the flowers they had made. He said, ‘I think I’ll go to the toon wi Aunt Katie.’

  ‘I thought Jeannie was away wi her,’ I said. ‘What are you gaun to the toon fir?’

  ‘Ach, brother, I’ll hae a wee walk tae the toon, get masel a bit tobacco. You go on to the camp with the lassies, wi Isa, Ningen and Winkie.’ Sandy walked away to the town. I went on, put up his tent, put up my own camp for myself at the old road just above Stonehaven by the graveyard. Buggie put up his tent for his mother and the tent for himself. In a couple of hours’ time Katie and Jeannie came back. Jeannie brought me a Western book and fags, everything, messages. We just made tea with Aunt Katie for a start. About an hour later Sandy came back, and he had a lady’s bike. Here he’s going on a lady’s bike! And his pipe going, the reek fleeing from him.

  ‘Aha,’ I said to Jeannie, ‘look! He thinks this is gaunna start all over again, the carry on. He worked me sore in Aberdeenshire a long time ago.’ He thought in his own way, ‘Ma blankets . . . an Duncan’ll shove ma cloots an shift ma camp, and I’ll get an old bike.’ He went to the town to beg it, the bike from some of the houses. This is what he wanted! No bother, no trouble, I’m pushing the pram with his stuff and mine. I never said a word.
I mean I was young and strong, I didn’t bother. So he came in. Katie gave him his tea. Oh, and he has a wee oil pourie, keeps a wee box with tools in it and keys. He was like a weasel, a crow for keys. Out to the bike and he oiled it, turned the chain and tightened the nuts.

  I said, ‘What is this fir? Ye’re not gaunna hurl much stuff wi that.’

  ‘Oh, brother,’ he says, ‘ye’ve nae idea. This is fir me and you. I got this fir me and you! This is fir gaun fir the wands tae me and gaun tae the shop wi the baskets, gaun tae meet Aunt Katie. The handiest thing in the worl fir me an you!’

  I said, ‘Aye, oh aye. Fir you, no fir me! I’ll no get much guid o it.’ But I wasn’t worried.

  So the next day he said, ‘I think we’ll shift today. We’ll go to Forfar.’

  I said, ‘All right.’ We shifted to Forfar. We went out to the old road. And he never pushed the pram all day, never put his hand near it. All he did was cycle along with the bike. And, ‘I’ll have to go, brother,’ he said, ‘and get a wee taste baking soda, ye ken, fir my stomach.’ And he cycled away on. It was night before you saw him! He was away begging his own tea and begging dry socks for himself. He would cycle to a town and mend baskets and get tobacco for himself. I was coming behind with the pram, see, with all the things in it. So we landed in Forfar old road, put up our camps.

  He said, ‘We’ll stay here for a wee while. This was on the road to Rescobie Loch. So it was a God’s blessing that there were only certain places on the old road that you could put your camps. You couldn’t put them close together, so’s to leave room on the road for folks passing by. It was a right o way walk. You had to put your camp up the banking apart from the others and not in a line. Buggie put his camp up. I put Sandy’s camp up and further along I put my own tent up. I helped build them all. Sandy was away with his bike looking for tobacco, and Buggie couldn’t build a tent by himself. Sandy carried his sticks with him and one of these rigging poles you just shoved the sticks in. You didn’t need to tie them for a bow tent.

  I didn’t bother about a bow tent. I just had two poles, stuck them in the ground and made a cross bar, a bivi for me and Jeannie. The lassies went to the town, came back and we had our tea. So we started playing quoits. Oh, Sandy was good at this. He’d left his bike against the wall, but none of the weans should touch it! He’s more interested in this bike than anything else. We played quoits on till about ten o’clock at night, Buggie, Sandy and I, while the women did other things about the place. But we stayed there for a couple of days and I always got up early in the morning, made a cup of tea. So one morning I was just finished my tea and Jeannie was washing her face. I had mine washed.

  I said, ‘I think we’ll shift this morning, we’ll leave Sandy and Katie. We’ll make wir way back. I think we’ll go to Fife. The’re nae prospects, him wi that bike, me wi ma pram. As long as he gets me tae hurl his stuff, he’ll never dae nothing, Jeannie. The best thing we can do is cut oot on wir own.’

  ‘I think that’s the best thing ye could dae,’ she said.

  ‘We’ve nae use tae wait on naebody,’ I said. ‘We’ll pack wir ain pram and tell him we’re gaun away across the ferry. We’ll go intae Dundee and tell him we’re leavin him.’

  She said, ‘That’s all he can dae is cycle that bike. He jist depends on you every day.’ Old Katie was all right and the weans were all right, but he wouldn’t do anything. And I knew even suppose we landed in Rescobie Loch, all he would do is go away with his bike every day and I wouldn’t see him.

  And I said, ‘We’re only wastin wir time.’ Now we weren’t worrying anyway. So, we had just started when in came a policeman with a bike. And he was only about twenty-one. I said, ‘Good morning, constable.’

  ‘Oh, good morning,’ he said. ‘How long hae you been here?’

  ‘Well, constable, I’ve been here about three days.’

  ‘Where do you come fae?’

  ‘I cam fae Aberdeen.’

  ‘Is this your wife?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Your name?’

  I said, ‘Duncan Williamson.’

  ‘Where do you come from?’

  ‘Originally I come from Argyll, but I’ve been in Fife fir a long time. And we’re jist makin wir way back. We’re intendin tae jist move oot.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ he says. ‘What’s about the other crowd?’

  ‘Constable, I don’t know nothing about the other crowd.’

  ‘They were in the town last night, late last night,’ he said.

  ‘Aye, I suppose they were.’

  ‘And I had a number of complaints aboot them,’ he says.

  ‘No, constable, you never had nae complaints about them,’ I said. ‘The’re more travellers in the district than them.’

  ‘Well, I had complaints anyway about them bein in the town beggin.’

  ‘Well, I’ll tell ye something,’ I said, ‘if you got complaints about beggin, it wasna them. I’m no sayin they’re any better than anybody else, but, constable, you can believe me! You wouldnae get any complaints about them beggin because my wife went to the shop in Forfar on the road through, and so did the rest o the crowd. I can verify that. There’s a lot o tinkers in the district forbyes them.’

  ‘Well, that’s the complaint I got anyway,’ he said, ‘from the station tae move ye.’

  ‘Ye dinnae need to move me on.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘all right. If ye’re shiftin, it’s okay.’ So I put out the fire, took down the tent and packed my pram. Sandy was still in bed and so was Buggie and old Jeannie and Nellie. Constable went up and he knocked on the top of the tent.

  ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Police.’

  Sandy got up, flung the door up. He was lying with all his clothes on him right in front of the tent. Travellers usually did that in case they got up in an emergency. All they took off at night was their jacket and boots, especially the men. Maybe the women took off their clothes, but the men never. And he said, ‘What is it, laddie?’

  He said, ‘Ye have to shift.’

  Sandy said, ‘We cannae shift. I’ve nae way o shiftin. How can I shift now?’

  Constable said, ‘How did ye get here?’

  ‘It was only the kindness o the laddie,’ he said. ‘Ye have to wait, constable, fir a wee while till my wife gangs tae the toon and begs an old pram or something.’

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m doon here tae charge yese fir beggin already! I’ve got complaints about youse beggin. You mean tae tell me ye’re gae’n back intae the toon tae beg a pram!’

  ‘Well, that’s the only way you’re gaunna get rid o me, when my wife gets back tae the toon and begs a pram tae shift me!’ By this time Buggie got up.

  The constable said, ‘I’m here tae move youse on, and I’m no movin till I see youse on the road.’ So Sandy got up and he started to curse, and he cursed at Katie.

  And he turned to the policeman, ‘Laddie,’ he said to the constable, ‘did ye get yir porridge this morning?’

  ‘No,’ constable said, ‘I never had nae porridge this morning. But I had some breakfast.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I never got nae tea yet! And I never got my fire kinneled. And that black woman o mine is lyin there smokin a pipe. She put me oot the tent wi reek! Can you no move on? I’ll shift. Can you no move on till we get wir wee bits o things together?’ He was kind o shan with the polis standing on top of him.

  The polis said, ‘Look, I’m waitin here till you shift!’

  ‘I’ll shift, but no the noo,’ Sandy said, ‘till I get my fire kinneled.’ And then the polis moved to Buggie.

  And Buggie started, and cursed, and he cursed at his mother. The things that he said to that policeman, I guarantee you, I would never mention in a hundred years! Well, that policeman stood for one hour till everybody got up and had their tea, washed their faces and packed their tents. And then he walked along to me.

  He says to me, ‘What kind o people is that ye’re associated wi?’

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sp; I said, ‘Constable, I’m no associated wi them nae way, no in this worl. l just cam in here late last night. I dinna ken nothing aboot them, nae mair than you dae!’

  He said, ‘They’re thiefs! They’re beggars and they’re prob’ly murderers for all I know! I never in my life, have ever I suffered such an hour wi that crowd. I’ll tell ye something, young fellow, you’d better get away fae that crowd o people. I’m tellin ye fir your own sake, you and your wife. You take a tip from me and get as far away fae that crowd as you possibly can! Because I’ll tell ye something, if ye’re with them, in another three days they’ll definitely get ye intae trouble!’

  I said, ‘All right, constable!’ So by this time my pram was packed. I walked with the polis to the end of the road.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘ye have yir orders.’

  I walked back and said to Sandy, ‘Jeannie wants tae see her mother. She wants tae go back tae Fife.’

  ‘I’m no shiftin,’ Sandy says to me, ‘I’m no shiftin.’

  So I bade Sandy goodbye, old Jeannie and them goodbye. ‘I’m gaun away back tae Fife,’ I said. By this time we had been away about a week, and I was making excuses to get away. Because I knew fine I was all right when I was single, but now I had the responsibility of a wife, and I couldn’t do the things they were doing. I had to take her into consideration because she didn’t like the things they were doing, no that they they were doing any harm. They weren’t drinking or anything like that, but she could see that it wasn’t leading to anything. As long as I kept with Sandy we weren’t going to amount to anything.

  So we set sail from Forfar old road. And we cut down into Dundee and stayed a night in Hangman’s Strip. Then the next day we cut in by Tealing. And the first thing I saw was this horse coming, a fast trotting horse. I said to Jeannie, ‘Here travellers comin along the road. I wonder who they are?’ Everybody was sitting on the cart. They were driving on.

  Jeannie said, ‘That’s my brother John’s horse.’