The Brocklock Ghost.

By R. De Bruce Trotter

I am a medical doctor, as were my father, grand-father, and great-grand-father before me. I have had a very large practice in the 40 years of my career, and have had as much night-work as most people, and if anybody had any excuse for seeing things unnatural at nights, I had every opportunity. Very curiously, I never saw anything worse than myself, except upon two occasions, both with would-be robbers who did not succeed in making their expected hauls.

I don’t know yet what to believe concerning ghosts and such like things. I certainly do not believe in them myself, as I have never seen occasion to do so; but certainly think people are sincere when they tell you they have seen such things, or imagined they did—a cow, a news paper, or a bullock, or a whin-bush, or some other terrific-looking object, and a vivid imagination, accounting for many apparitions.

However, this Brocklock business I cannot altogether account for, even on the supposition that it was a whin-bush, so I must leave the solution of the question to wiser heads than mine, and just give it as it happened.

Well, about 1840 there was a new medicine discovered as a certain cure for consumption, which was then very prevalent in Galloway. This was known as morphine. My father had some cases of consumption on hand at the time, which he was very anxious to cure, so he sent and got a supply of this morphine.

It was very difficult of solution and required some days to dissolve, so it was put into a teacup with some water and set up in a corner cupboard, where it had been for three or four days.

This cupboard was situated close to a table which was near the window, and was very easily accessible from the table.

One day my father was away at a confinement at Dundrennan, 4 ½ miles off, and my little sister, about 4 years of age, was sitting on this table. My mother went into another room for some purpose, and the child improved her opportunity, and opening the cupboard door, seized upon the cup and drank off its contents, thinking it was water. My mother came back and found her with the empty cup in her hand and making fearful faces, for the stuff was very bitter. She knew it was poisonous and sent me off immediately to Dundrennan for my father, to urge him home at the earliest possible moment, telling him of the accident.

It was about the end of October and by the time I reached Dundrennan it was getting dark—about six o’clock.

I found my father had finished his work about half-an-hour before and gone off home by another road to visit an old woman at Rerwick Kirk, who was ill. I consequently missed him and as he might be home before I could, I set off straight for home.

When I came past Hazelfield, about half-a- mile and in sight of the Brocklock Tree, I perceived a light before me right in the middle of the road. Wondering what a light could be doing there—for Hazelfield was the nearest house—I marched right up to it and found a little girl about six or seven sitting in a child’s ash chair, which had been scrubbed every week; in front of her was a common bucket-stool, also well scrubbed; in the middle of the stool was a little iron candle-stick —very common about that time—with a lip on the top of it for hanging to a nail, and a round base. In the candle-stick was the half of a half-penny candle burning, which made the light I had seen.

I looked at the girl and spoke to her in Scotch (my father spoke nothing but English and my mother nothing but Scotch, so we chil dren spoke Scotch only) and said to her—“Gae wa hame; what are ye sitting there for: ye’ll be gettin’ the caul; gae wa hame wi’ ye.” She turned round and looked up in my face with her great, big, blue eyes, but never said a word.

She was a Fingaal, and had light blue eyes and fair hair, and had on a night-dress fastened at the waist and neck and a night cap on her head. I have seen the face very frequently, especially when I lived in Kirkmaiden.

Staring at her for a minute or two, I said “Ye’ll no speak, wull ye no, ye thrawen thing; ye’ll get starved wi’ caul sittin’ there in ye’re nicht-dress. Gae wa hame by wi ye.”

She looked up at me again and still said nothing. I then began to think that she was a tinkler set out on the road as a decoy, for there was a big gravel pit in a field not far off, where tinklers used to stop at night, and I had heard some fearful stories of tinklers stealing little boys and selling them to the sweeps. I therefore began to get a little frightened and moved off in the direction of home. When about 20 yards off I looked round to see if she was follow- ing me, but when I looked round everything was dark and there was nothing to be seen. It then entered my head that this must be a ghost. I would be about ten years of age then and had never seen a ghost before, so was terrified and ran for home as fast as I could go.

When I got about a mile down the road to the Blackford, I fell in with a young couple sweet-hearting who asked me what I was in such a hurry about. I told them the story and they told me it was the Brocklock Ghost, that many people had seen it, but that it never followed anybody or did anybody any harm, so added that I need not be afraid.

I then walked peaceably home and found my father there before me. He had my sister stripped almost naked, and was walking her up and down the floor, and was lashing her with broom-cowes to keep her awake; while her back and legs were covered all over with wheals, which remained for a day or two, I guess.

This went on all the next day until the evening, when my father heard that the Rev. David Milligan Gillespie had come to preach at Auchencairn and was staying at Mr Boyes, the draper’s. Mr Gillespie was a relation of ours and came at once when sent for. He set my sister up in the bed and prayed over her for about half-an-hour, and she became quite lively and had some supper. About an hour afterwards she went to bed and slept till the morning and mended directly—never looking behind her afterwards—and Mr Gillespie got the credit of curing her with his prayer.

Then I told them what I had seen at the Brocklock, and they said it was the Brocklock Ghost, which had been frequently seen during the last 150 years, always at the same places but had never done anybody any harm.

There had been a farm house at the place once, but it had been knocked down on account of the number of ghosts that frequented it; but this was the only one left that did not disappear when the house went.

This is the only thing I ever saw which I could not properly account for in all my travels.

I will tell about the robbers in my next story.