Gallawa Superstitions.

No.V—Lagwine.

By R. De Bruce Trotter

About a mile above the burgh of Carsphairn, and nearly opposite the Druidical circle of Daltallochan, and about a hundred yards to the right of where the Dalmellington road crosses the Water of Deugh, is a curious pit known locally as “Lagwine,” or “The Green Well of Scotland.” The word, however, does not mean the Green Well, but the Green Meadow, and may have been applied originally to the holm of Daltallochan; but now when used alone the well only is referred to, although the estate and the remains of the old mansion bear the same name.

The Well Lagwine, is a hole about ten feet square, situated in a depression on the top of a rock, about fifteen feet south of the Deugh, and twenty feet above the surface of the stream. Its water always maintains the same level, and it has no outlet. It is popularly believed to be unfathomable, notwithstanding that thousands of cart-loads of stones have been put into it, but last year the presence of weeds and mud, at one side of it, would seem to indicate that it is bottomless no longer.

The Green Well has never been used as a water supply, and tradition says nothing about when, or by whom, it was made. It looks more like the shaft of an old mine than anything else, only there is no trace of any mineral vein in the immediate vicinity, and there is no heap of excavated stone near it.

Tradition says that when the old giant Wicht of Portmark carried off the treasure chest of the Romans he hid it in this well, and got the chief Druid of Daltallochan to place a demon at the bottom of the well to guard it, until at the end of a thousand years one of Wicht’s descendants should appear to claim it, repeating two words somewhat resembling “tarry oo,” and going through certain ceremonies to prove his identity.

It was also said that Dr Dodds, the gold hunter, had thrown his dies for coining Spanish doubloons into it before his arrest, and that his spirit could not rest till they were recovered and delivered up to the government.

Some months before the occurrences mentioned in the present story, Quentin M’Adam, the great laird of Lagwine, had dreamed a dream, in which old Wicht and Dr Dodds had appeared to him, the latter telling him that the thousand years had expired, and that as he was a descendant of old Wicht, he would instruct him how to gain possession of the treasure, on condition that he would promise to secure his dies and forward them to the authorities in Edinburgh. The laird promised, and received instructions accordingly, and proceeded at once to carry them out; but Quentin, notwithstanding that he was such a great laird, contrived in some way to bungle the ceremonies, so that the demon impiously refused to deliver up the pot of gold to its rightful owner, who then tried to bale out, and then to pump out Lagwine, but without success. Next he secured two divers, one of whom was torn to pieces and devoured by the demon, while the other came up again bleeding and torn, but bringing a handful of the gold-pieces up with him, and barely escap[ed] with his life.

During the time the diver was staying at the Castle of Lagwine, recovering from the wounds, bruises, and uncomfortable sores his unfortunate carcase had received at the hands, or rather at the feet, of the demon of the Green Well, he employed his leisure time in discussing with laird M’Adam a great variety of projects for gaining possession of old Wicht’s treasure. The one which found most favour in the eyes of the laird was suggested possibly by his religious turn of mind, rendered more religious by a godly upbringing; and was founded on well known fact, that nothing in this world can prosper unless assisted by the all-powerful influences of Christianity and the clergy.

Laird Quentin studied the subject deeply, and the more he studied the more firmly he became convinced that all his former failures resulted from his neglect to implore a blessing on his labours, and of using some sanctified means to overcome the power of the demon that had custody of the precious deposit. Accordingly he proposed to the diver, that as soon as the state of his wounds and sores would let him, he should repair to the well in company with the laird and the minister, whose services in any good and holy cause could easily be secured through the medium of an anker of brandy, clergymen in all ages and countries being, from their sacred calling, peculiarly susceptible to spiritual influences, and after the holy man had christened the well, and thereby weakened the power of the demon below, the diver should descend through the green waters, holding the open Bible in one hand and the rope in the other, and while keeping the evil spirit at bay with the buckler of the gospel, contrive to secure the rope to the cauldron, and that being properly fastened, dash the Bible into the open mouth of the custodian, and during the confusion certain to ensue from such a sudden shock of Scripture, cheat the devil of its due by ascending triumphantly to the regions above, from which vantage ground they could haul up the filthy lucre at their leisure.

Laird Quentin assured the diver that there could not possibly be any danger, as he and the minister would weary the Lord with prayers and supplications in his behalf all the time he was engaged in furthering the great cause in the bowels of the Green Well of Scotland, and as the Scriptures tell that the prayer of the righteous availeth much, and the righteousness of the minister and the laird was beyond question, there could be no doubt what ever of the entire safety of the diver, with such mighty influences exerted in his behalf.

The diver, however, was only an ignorant, prejudiced Englishman, and demurred to this excellent arrangement, suggesting that as the minister was the best hand at managing a Bible, the process of terrifying the devil would be best entrusted to him; the laird, being a man of great strength and agility, might make himself useful in securing the ropes to the pot, in the midst of the confusion; while he, the diver, would pray for them heartily at the top.

Such is the selfishness of human nature, and as may be seen, of English nature also, which of course can scarcely be considered altogether human.

Laird Quentin’s wise and practical project, in consequence of the selfishness and cowardice of a mere Englishman, had, therefore, to be abandoned, and the elected servant of the Lord was thus deprived of the temporal and spiritual blessings represented by an anker of brandy.

When the diver was well enough to be able to walk about, he and the laird took an occasional stroll to the Well to see if they could devise some means of getting it emptied; the vain creature of an Englishman exhibiting a preference for what he called practical means, and impiously ridiculing any proposal to overcome the enchantment of the demon by religious or other appropriate performances; for, like most of his countrymen, he was almost an infidel, carrying his atheistic views even to the extent of whistling on Sundays, and declaring that ministers were mere mortals like other folk, and should be respected in accordance with their conduct only, and not on account of their sacred calling. As far as can now be ascertained, he seems to have belonged to that sect of scoffers which is known by the name of Baptists or Dippers, which was doubtless the reason he became a diver.

After carefully examining the surroundings, he at length gave it as his opinion that the most sensible plan of emptying the Well would be to take advantage of its elevated position, and commence a cutting further down the stream where the ground was much lower, and by running a drift or even an open cutting into it, the laird might run off all the water, shoot the demon at the bottom, and carry home the treasure at his convenience, without any superstitious nonsense whatever.

The more the laird studied the project and examined the place, the better he liked it, notwithstanding that it emanated from the brain of a mere Englishman; and it commended itself the more to him, as he reflected that the demon would in this way be deprived of his main protection—the water, and open to an attack by a number of people at once, all properly armed; the principal difficulty in the case being the trouble he might have in getting the people to refrain from helping themselves to the gold, even though they knew that laird M’Adam alone had any right to it.

In course of time the diver departed for Portpatrick, and left the laird miserable in the midst of his glory, seeing that a diabolical, unearthly, and heathenish monster remained in undisturbed possession of the gold that the laird inherited from his ancestors, and with which he might have added considerably to his lands and heritages; and his conscience troubled him sorely for permitting such a state of things to continue; for even lairds have been known, occasionally, to have consciences.

At length he could bear it no longer, so he mounted his steed and rode away across the mountains, and after a toilsome journey through a trackless country, came to a halt at the village of Leadhills in Lanarkshire, where he engaged half a dozen miners to come and assist him to over-reach the monster of Lagwine, or correctly speaking, to under-reach him.

When they put in an appearance at Lagwine he conducted them to the spot and explained his object to them, and then left to their practical judgment the choice of the best place and manner of proceeding with the necessary operations, and they accordingly began well down the stream, and drove a level trench through the sand and gravel, till they came to the rock at no great distance from the Well. Here they had to lay down the spades and mattocks, and take to their drills and picks, and in a short time they had a great many holes made in the rock, which they filled with blasting powder, and in the evening they applied a light to the fuses, and producing a terrible explosion, detached a large amount of rock, and shattered a great deal more.

In the morning they removed all the debris, and proceeded to drill a number of more holes. [sic] and when they were finished they proceeded to charge them; the laird remaining with them nearly all the time, and taking great interest in the operations.

One of the miners had a whisky bottle to refresh him at his work, and he kept it in a heather bush up near the Well, and as he went for a pull at it before charging his holes, he chanced to look southward, and was astonished to behold an immense column of smoke rising from among the trees that surrounded the castle. He called out to the laird that something was on fire near the castle, and the laird ran up to look and was horrified to see his ancestral towers enveloped in smoke, and a dense sheet of flame rising like a pillar of fire from the centre of the cloud.

“My castle’s on fire!” cries the laird, “rin an’ help tae pit it oot.” And he set the example and ran, followed by the miners, who saw a bright prospect of whisky before them, and ran like furies.

The castle was situated in a depression in the centre of a “stron,” which juts out into the plain from the foot of the hills, and the sides of this “stron” were thickly covered with trees, while the road which wound round the base on the level was canopied by a cover of thick

beeches, so that it was impossible for anyone when near the elevation containing the castle to see it, until the end of the projecting knowe was reached, and there a deep cut led up into the interior depression to the castle.

When the laird and his company reached this approach they were surprised to see no appearance of smoke or fire about the castle, and when they came up to it the inmates were moving about at their accustomed duties, without the slightest suspicion of the danger that threatened them.

The laird stormed and raged, and nearly jumped down the throat of his good lady for her carlessness, and at once proceeded to search the castle to ascertain the seat of the fire, but though every room was carefully examined, not the slightest appearance of anything of the kind was discovered; and all the outbuildings being carefully gone over, and no trace of fire found there either, Laird Quentin came to the only conclusion open to him under the circumstances—that the demon of the Well had taken alarm at the mining operations, and had adopted this method of stopping any further proceedings.

Laird Quentin, however, was not the man to be put off in any such manner, and so in the morning he set off with all hands to hurry on the work, which he was the better encouraged to do, from the opposition of the demon clearly demonstrating to him that he was now on the right track, and that success was considered probable by that individual; and Laird Quentin had an idea that the superhuman being at the bottom of the Well was in the best position to know what plan was likely to succeed.

Accordingly the miners set to on arrival to fill their holes with powder, but they found all the holes were half full of water, and the powder was consequently spoiled, and had to be scraped out again; and the holes kept leaking so unaccountably that the laird had to send all the way to Carsphairn for paper (a scarce article in those days), and tallow, to make waterproof tubes to enable them to charge the holes. This took up their time till noon, and after dining on the grass they began again to make the holes ready for blasting, but they had scarcely got begun when a tremendous [sic] shower broke over them and wet them to the skin, though the tallow kept the powder dry.

Laird Quentin encouraged them to go on with the work, but they were again arrested by a sudden peal of thunder right over their heads, accompanied by a vivid flash of lightning, which made the miners run for their lives, for fear the lightning should explode the powder they were working with and blow them into fragments. In a short time the thunder-cloud moved farther south, and then the laird promised them a good drink of whisky, and tempted them to renew their endeavours to charge the holes properly. Suddenly a terrific peal startled them again; a thunderbolt was seen to fall from the cloud and strike in the direction of the castle, and in a few seconds a bright flame shot up against the darkened sky, followed by a volume of thick smoke. And the laird, who had witnessed the whole, cried out: “Rin! boys! rin! there’s nae doot aboot the fire this time.”

They ran with a will, with the laird at the head of them, and when they came to the avenue, near the castle, the burning rafters were heard crackling in the fire, and the laird was in a dreadful state about it. The moment they turned into the cut that leads up to the castle, the crackling ceased as if by magic; the bright glare that had shone through the trees disappeared as soon as the towers were in sight, and the castle stood before them entire! the pale blue peat-smoke ascending in graceful wreaths from two of the chimneys, and the wet windows glittering in the rays of the sun, which was just breaking out from under the thunder-cloud. The laird couldn’t believe his own eyes, and didn’t, but had the building examined from top to bottom, and, as on the previous occasion, nothing was found to cause the smallest conflagration, and there was no appearance of anything having been damaged by lightning.

It was no use going back to the Well that day, and the next was Sunday, so that nothing could be done, the laird being an elder, and the miners Cameronians, and consequently brought up in the belief that they ought neither to think their own thoughts nor speak their own words on that day, far less to work, or even to fill holes with powder; and consequently they objected to do this, notwithstanding that the laird—who from his high position as a pillar of the temple, was an authority on the subject—carefully explained to them that it was allowable, and was even commendable to do good on that day; and there could be no doubt that the defeat and discomfiture of one of the imps of Satan in the bottom of a bottomless pit full of water, would be a great good in the highest sense of that term. But dissenters of every kind are terribly stiff-necked and obstinate, even to the present day; and even the glory and aggrandisement of a great and good man like Laird Quentin, added to the overthrow and destruction of a demon, were insufficient to overcome their low miserable prejudices.

Laird Quentin had therefore to go to the kirk, and exhibit his humility by lifting the half-pennies, to the glory of the good cause, and the advancement of Christian charity; many respectable people putting even as much as a sixpence into the ladle, who would not have contributed more than a half-penny had the ladle been in the vulgar hands of a common inn-keeper or a grocer; while many others put in half-pennies and pennies, that the laird might observe their liberality, who, if Sandy M’Millan had been at the other end of the ladle as usual, would have had their eyes turned up to heaven in silent prayer during the collection, and so inadvertently might have omitted to make an offering for the relief of the poor.

When the sermon was over and the collection counted, the minister, as is the use and wont in such cases, repaired to the vestry to refresh his reverend spirit, and the laird, as a privileged person, followed him, and asked his sage advice respecting the terrific thunderstorms and supernatural conflagrations that attended any attempt to drain out the mysterious Well. The minister was well acquainted with the traditions respecting Lagwine, and also with the various appearances of fire and lightning, which were mere devices of the evil one, to make him desist from a work which threatened to relieve him of his charge; and so he informed him that the best way to overcome such opposition was to set aside a day in his household for fasting and prayer; to give of his abundance to the Lord for some pious purpose; and to take his family Bible to the scene of action, and the moment any of the manifestations of the devices of the demon were observed, to go down on his knees facing the north, and read aloud the Sermon on the Mount backwards, and thus force the demon to desist.

In accordance with this sage advice, the laird contributed a guinea on the spot towards a new pulpit gown for the minister, and at once invited him over to the castle to superintend the family fast.

He then went home and proclaimed a day of fasting and prayer on his estates, and in the morning everybody was up an hour earlier than usual to make preparations for celebrating the Day of Humiliation properly, in accordance with the manners and customs of the country.

The best goose was killed for the laird’s dinner, and three sheep were slaughtered for the retainers, and a barrel of ale was brought into the kitchen for the refreshment of whoever chose to partake, while an anker of the best Manx brandy was decanted for the use of the laird and the guests of his own station.

Family prayers were then conducted by the minister, who put in an early appearance, a grand braxy breakfast with tea was discussed, and the enjoyments of the Fast Day commenced in earnest. At dinner his reverence did ample justice to the goose, and did not forget the brandy, and in the course of the day entertained the whole household with prayer on four separate occasions, and in the evening the performances concluded with a piper and a fiddler, who made not only the men and maidens skip about the hall like hens on a hot girdle, but made the very slates rattle in concert on the roof. Evening prayers were then conducted by the minister, who was observed by the Cameronian miners to make various curiously modified transpositions of Scripture in the texts he introduced largely into his supplications. But the statements of these Cameronians would doubtless be unreliable, for they impiously refused to take any part in the celebration of the Fast, on account of some heterodox views they held, in common with dissenters generally, respecting the proper method of observing a Fast Day; and either sat and sulked in a corner, or went up and desecrated the holy day by walking up to Lagwine and looking at their work.

On the morrow the laird, the miners, and one or two of the servants, went up to the works, and found all the cartridges they had put in the holes spoiled with damp, so that they had to pick them out and manufacture new ones, which were placed in the holes as soon as completed, and everything went on marvellously well; no doubt in consequence of the pious exercises they had been engaged in on the previous day. Some soft stones were then got, and they proceeded to stem down the charges, when all of a sudden a peal of thunder rattled above their heads as before, only this time the lightning struck the rock they were working on, and ran in vivid streaks among their feet, frightening the miners nearly to death, for fear their shots would go off and blow them to atoms.

But the good laird was equal to the occasion; he called on them to stick to their work, for nothing would harm them; siezed [sic] the Bible and went down on his knees before the Well, and with face to the north began to read the Sermon on the Mount backwards.

The effect was like magic; the lightning, that had been playing along the ground about them, instantly ceased, and the miners, reassured, returned to their work. Before they had given half-a-dozen blows to their stemmers, however, another thundering brattle rent the clouds, and a bright red flash of fire lighted up the darkening sky, and the next instant the thunderbolt descended perpendicularly and plunged into the centre of Lagwine.

The laird jumped to his feet in an extasy of delight, waved the big Bible over his head, and shouted at the top of his voice—“Hurray! boys! hurray! that’ll hae finished the deevil!”

What was the real reason was never known, but it is supposed that the interruption of his devotions restored power to the demon, and enabled him to put forth another effort. For, a moment after the laird had spoken, the waters of the Well rose in the centre like a pyramid of burning green, and out of all sides of it scores of horrible looking little imps issued, and rushed to and fro among the people, hissing and spitting most viciously. They were described by eye-witnesses as resembling frogs or paddocks, about a foot high, running about on their hind legs, only there was something in their faces that gave them a certain appearance of humanity; and sometimes their mouths were set in a sardonic grin, and at other times girned with malicious spite, their disgusting appearance being increased by their colour, which was a dirty green, and by the large white tusks which hung from the front of their upper jaws.

They first attacked the laird, who had resumed his Scripture reading, jumped on the book and tore it with their fore claws or hands, fuffed and spat at the laird, and tore at his eyes, and attempted to bite his hands, and went on shamefully, considering the pious duty he was engaged in.

The laird read away as well as he could, dadding them aside with his hands to keep them off, but they became so persistent in their annoyance that they raised his righteous wrath, till he seized the Bible by one of the breds and banged their heads with it, scattering them left like chaff in a whirlwind. They also attacked the miners and the laird’s servants, running among their feet and snapping and hanching at their legs, and making the most unearthly noises to frighten them. But the miners, being Cameronians, and having in consequence no fear of anything unearthly, laid at them with their hammers, and kicked them, and sent dozens of them flying in the air; but the more they kicked the faster new ones came from the Well, till the ground was moving with them; till at last some of them took advantage of the miners being occupied spanghuing the others, and climbed up to where they were working, and pulled the stemming out of the holes, and as soon as they got them out they spat into the holes, exploding the charges, which blew harmlessly up from the holes without lifting the smallest morsel of rock.

The laird by this time had resumed his reading, and whether the Sermon on the Mount read backwards was too strong for them, or whether the shoes of the Cameronians were too heavy for them, or whether they thought they had accomplished their mission by pluffing out the powder, it would be difficult now to decide; but immediately they had pluffed off the powder they rushed in a swarm to the Well, clustered round the green pyramid of water, and instantly sank with it out of sight, utterly discomfited.

Flushed with this glorious victory the laird gave out brandy all round, and then instructed the miners to charge again; but no sooner were the cartridges ready to be placed in the holes than a cry rose from one of the servants that the castle was on fire. The laird looked round and saw a dense cloud of smoke rising from the castle, but he was not going to let the demon deceive him with that scheme a third time, so he gave the miners orders to go on with their work, and resumed his position with the Bible on the grass and went on to read the Sermon backwards a second time. Then one of the servants cried out that he saw flames among the smoke, but the laird told him to mind his work and let the fames alone, while he read away more fervently than ever, so as to subdue the power that created the imaginary fires at the castle.

The miners were stemming away, and the aird shouting out the Scripture at the top of his voice, when a messenger from the castle rushed breathless up to him, exclaiming—“Laird! laird! the castle’s taen lunt, an’ it’s for fair this time!”

The laird declared he was lying, and said he wasn’t going to be caught three times in the same trap; but the man solemnly asserted that it was true, and the laird got up and looked, but could see no difference between the look of this and the former false fires. However, he saw on the road below them two other men running towards them, one behind the other, waving their arms and shouting out something, and fearing that there might be a right fire after all he and the miners and servants went off towards the castle to see. When they met the first runner he said the castle was “a’ in a bleeze,” and the second one said that the guidwife and the son were in an upper storey and couldn’t get down by the stair, and would be burnt to death.

The laird took to his heels and ran, and the others did likewise, and on arrival they found the fire this time to be real; and one of the first things that caught the laird’s eye was the guidwife leaning out of one of the front windows with her infant son in her arms, and calling for help, while heavy volumes of smoke rolled out of the window over her head. There was no ladder about the place tall enough to reach the window, but the miners, being dissenting sinners, and consequently used to emergencies of all kinds, lashed two short ones together, and two old harrows to the lower end of them, and raising this against the wall, two of them mounted and handed down the child and the guidwife, whose clothes by this time were caught by the flames, and one of the miners had his hands badly burned trying to put them out.

Just as the guidwife reached the ground the roof fell in with a crash, and the noble residence of the great M’Adams was soon reduced to a heap of ashes, enclosed by bare and blackened walls, and remains so even to the present day, the laird losing so much money and so many valuable papers and securities in the fire that he was unable ever to rebuild it.

The evacuation of Lagwine Well was necessarily abandoned, the miners sent home to their own country, and Doctor Dodds and his dies left to the attention of future generations.

The laird, however, declared that if he couldn’t get the treasure in Lagwine he would take care that nobody else did; and as he turned his energies immediately after to agricultural improvement, he made the Well a depot for the immense quantities of stones, which in most districts of Galloway require to be gathered off the land; and it is said that in his time alone over two thousand cartfuls of stones were cowped into it, and though it has been used for the same purpose ever since, it is said to be as deep and unfathomable as ever.

Old and full of days the great Laird Quentin was gathered to his fathers, the castle of his illustrious ancestors is still a ruin, the golden treasure is still at the bottom of Lagwine, and the demon, for anything that is known to the contrary, still watches over it, possibly relieving the tedium of its vigil by laughing at the dis- comfiture of the great Laird Quentin.