Tales from the Tent
Read Tales from the Tent Online
Authors: Jess Smith
T
ALES FROM THE
T
ENT
J
ESS
S
MITH
was raised in a large family of Scottish travellers. This is the second book in her bestselling autobiographical trilogy. Her story begins with
Jessie’s Journey: Autobiography of a Traveller Girl
and concludes with
Tears for a Tinker: Jessie’s Journey Concludes
. She has also written a novel,
Bruar’s
Rest.
As a traditional storyteller, she is in great demand for live performances throughout Scotland.
This eBook edition first published in 2012
First published in 2003 by Mercat Press Ltd
Reprinted in 2003 and 2005
New edition published 2008 and reprinted 2012 by
Birlinn Limited
West Newington House
10 Newington Road
Edinburgh
EH9 1QS
Copyright © Jess Smith 2003, 2008
The moral right of Jess Smith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without the express written permission of the publisher.
eBook ISBN: 978-0-85790-179-8
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Version 1.0
C
ONTENTS
38 BRIDGET AND THE SEVEN FAIRIES
I
LLUSTRATIONS
Jessie’s father aged 15 with his boyhood friend, Wullie Donaldson
Jessie’s mother and father in 1942 (Pitlochry)
Jessie’s mother holding Babsy (Aberfeldy)
Jessie aged 14 with her mother, Jeannie, in Kirkcaldy
Jessie aged 14 with her father, Charlie, in Kirkcaldy
Jessie’s mother fooling around in Lennie’s Yard, Kirkcaldy
Jessie’s sister, Janey, in front of the bus
Sandy Stewart, the ‘Cock o’ the North’
Jessie and Davey on their wedding day in Perth, Hogmanay 1966
Jessie with her daughter, Barbara
Jessie’s children—Barbara, Stephen and Johnnie
Jessie with Johnnie and Stephen in 1983
Jessie with two of her sisters, Charlotte and Janey, and her mother
A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There is a countless army who inspired, prodded, encouraged, laughed and cried with me whilst I was writing this book—many thanks for staying the course.
Dave the rock; Daddy and Mammy—never far away; Bonnie, Rosie, Rebecca, Meghan, Nicole, Jason; The Golden Girls; wee pal—cousin Anna; Janet Keet Black; Mamie for
Keith’s poem; David Cowan; Glen neighbours; David Campbell the book man; Portsoy Peter (deceased).
A special thanks to Robert Dawson (my radgy gadgie); John Beaton; Catherine; Tom and Seán.
And a great big thanks to Michael G Kidd who wrote
Where do I Belong?
especially for me.
I am eternally grateful to the Scottish Arts Council, who through a fine grant allowed me the freedom to research further than I could otherwise have done.
I dedicate this book to Mac, of the old tattered journal
INTRODUCTION
T
hose of you who came with me on ‘Jessie’s Journey,’ when I told you about my life in our blue Bedford bus with Mammy, Daddy,
seven sisters and Tiny, the wee fox terrier that could run rings round rats, will have an idea where we are going. To those who did not, then let me take you through the Scottish travellers’
life, a life of folklore, murder and mystery. Humour jumps on board too, folks!
Will you believe my tales? Perhaps aye, or maybe not. For what is fact and fiction in life when a falling snowflake can lead a young mother to trek upon a treacherous mountain in a blizzard
perilously putting her two little boys in danger?
Would you like to hear of the threesome who dared to bury a Royal Duke in the wee coastal graveyard filled to capacity with tramps, vagabonds and tinkers? More to the point—was there room
for him?
Those hounds of Harry’s, were they really dead? Did he survive because it wasn’t his time?
Deep beneath gorse bush and thistle, were those the fingers of a dead man? Or something even more sinister?
She killed her daughter! Didn’t she?
Well now, are you with me? Are you coming, reader, into my world, the travellers’ world, where children learn about Bonnie Princess Charlotte, and her evil quest to unite the clans? Think
you can handle that? More to the point, will historians of Jacobitism accept it?
What a strange night old lovelorn Peter had when the mistletoe seller came a-calling...
Do you know there are creatures of the night that come within a moor wind? I hope you never have the misfortune to meet one! Perhaps a wee early warning never to unlawfully enter a place of the
dead might help.
In
Jessie’s Journey
I told you of life in the bus. What I failed to divulge was, as death claimed night, that there sometimes came the ‘Tall Man’. Why?
I bet you’d love to hear Mac’s story. I can say with hand on heart you’ll never hear of another such start to a new life.
Why was Wullie Two so called? Laugh with me on this one, folks.
I have many, many tales and stories to share with you. Get the cup, boil a kettle, comfort the bones—oh, and don’t forget to lock the doors, because you never know, now, do you?
So, reader, are you coming with me on the road?
You are!
Great!
Who needs sanity anyway?
1
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