“The Wife or The Wuddy”
On a cold winters day a few years ago I was happily browsing in an excellent second hand bookshop called Slightly Foxed in Berwick Upon Tweed. Among other things, this bookshop has a lovely selection of local interest books which, even before I changed career to become a full time tour guide & blogger, were of great interest to me. Browsing through the usual titles on Walter Scott, Railways, Border Reivers and the like, my eyes were drawn to an old hardback book with a title that jumped out at me – ‘Wilson’s Tales of the Border’. That’s my name, I excitedly thought, before instantly remembering that Wilson is an extremely common surname in the UK with hundreds of thousands calling themselves Son of Will. Even so, I picked up the volume and had a look at the all-important detail – namely the price. It was £5 and that made my mind up before I even read the contents - This book was coming home with me. Some days later, back in Innerleithen, I decided to have a look at what ‘Wilsons Tales’ was all about. It turned out to be an anthology of Borders Stories collated by former Berwick Advertiser Editor John Mackay Wilson, who lived between 1804 and 1835, leaving behind a widow and no children at just 31 years old. As it happens, John MacKay was born and died in Tweedmouth, so it felt apt that I picked up this book just across the Tweed from his native town. Now, I am sure many of you reading this will never have heard of Wilson or his tales, as was the case with me before I picked up the book back in 2021. Wilson began publishing local stories in his paper in 1832 and by 1834 had collected his first volume in book form. It was a huge success but within a year of its publication Wilson was dead, perhaps the added stress of the venture contributing to his untimely demise. Despite Wilsons death the tales continued for a further 5 years, with his widow Sarah and other editors collating and supplying stories. In the end, over 400 tales were produced and many editions were published – they were very popular in their day, providing a crowd pleasing treat and there would scarcely be a house in the borders which did not have a copy. For my part, the volume I picked up in Berwick contains only 23 of the Tales and I do have to say that there is a variance in quality – most are great yarns, but one or two I have read are hard going with an old fashioned technique and quite laboured storytelling. What they all have however is a value beyond price, like the ballads collected by Walter Scott a few years earlier, these tales keep alive old stories and traditions of the Border, something that is precious and has helped shape the identity of this corner of our islands. This idea of keeping old stories alive, and even adding new ones to The Border mythology, appeals to me greatly. As my career has developed I have seen the importance of stories, so an idea started to form in my head – why not start a new collection of Wilsons Tales, honouring the past but firmly placed in the 21st century? Like any modern person embarking on a project, I took to the internet to find out if anyone else had the same idea, and I was delighted with what I found….
My well worn 1934 volume - published to mark the centenary of Wilson’s first tales being published.
It was heartening to discover that in the 21st century a charity exists called the Wilsons Tales project which aims to preserve the tales, by bringing JM Wilson back into public consciousness and also reinterpreting them for today. Re-Told tales have been published over the past decade, and told at various locations, including the Berwick Literary festival. An annual dinner is held and there are plans for restoration of the sadly neglected grave of Wilson and his widow Sarah at Tweedmouth. I am delighted to have made contact with the charity and hope we can collaborate in the future.
For my own project, which is independent of the charity but has a similar same ethos, I was keen to use the (admittedly very flimsy) coincidence of also being a Wilson who is keen on stories to offer my own 21st century reinterpretation of Wilson’s Tales. More than that, I wanted to create some of my own tales, from more recent events in The Borders. There is a dry humour which runs throughout the best of Wilsons Tales, and my aim is to recapture this but using the very 21st century mediums of blog and podcast, as opposed to JM Wilson’s weekly broad sheet. This first tale will be a reinterpretation of a classic, then I will follow it up with two of my own offerings in the coming weeks, and we will see what happens after that. This sets the scene, and explains why I found myself at Elibank Castle, the ruined tower sitting above the Tweed Valley between Walkerburn and Peel. This is the location of one of the best known of all Borders stories, one which was published by Wilson in July 1835. It’s a tale of Border Reivers, rival families in turbulent times, and an unlikely romance. It is based on a very real events and besides Wilson’s versions it has been told in short stories, poems, a children’s book and even a puppet show. The protagonist of the tail even had a statue for a while but its sadly been lost. I have chosen this tale of Wilsons to retell as I think it is such an enduring local story, but for us in the 21st century has a lot to tell us about how far we have come, and some of these issues many still face today in an often superficial society. In Wilsons tales it is called ‘The Wife or The Wuddy’, or as you may know it better the story of Muckle Moothed Meg…
Elibank Castle from Thornilee
Image courtesy of Go Tweed Valley and Ian Linton
Once upon a time there lived one of the boldest Knights of The Borders, William Scott, young Laird of Harden. His favoured base were Oakwood and Kirkhope Towers, in the Ettrick valley, and his family motto translated as “we’ll have moonlight again”. In other words, his primary business was thieving and took place under the cover of darkness - we are in the dying days of the Border Reivers, the early 17th century. Wilson’s story has William Scott delivering a sermon of sorts to his men, telling them of his great rival Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank, stoking them up to ride with him and steal cattle from Elibank. His men are suitably impressed - “Hurra” shouted they, for the young laird. “He is a true Scott from head to heel. The moon glents ower the hills to guide us to the spoils of Elibank! Tonight we shall bring langsyne back again!” These are the words Wilson puts in their mouths and as you can tell he has a lot of fun with bringing the story to life. The tale continues with Scott and 20 men riding to Elibank, with mothers and maidens running for their doors as the Reivers ride across the valley towards Elibank, perched high above the River Tweed. On arrival at Elibank, no Murray is to be seen so they make off with an immense herd of long horned cattle and sheep, driving them back over the hills towards Ettrick. Job done then, but Wilson inserts a dissenter into the Scott camp. Simon Scott, an older kinsman, admonishes the young William for his plans to roast a whole bullock to feast celebrate the haul – he thinks they should be a touch more cautious and save some of the stolen beast. He actually goes as far to say that too much luxury makes men effeminate and discontented! This amusing diversion is soon ended by the sound of hounds and 50 men crashing after the Scott’s – The Murray’s have discovered the theft, and are hot on their heels. At their head was Sir Gideon – a man known for his fierce temperament and disregard for any sort of mercy on his enemies. A confrontation ensues between Sir Gideon and Scott of Harden which leads to the cattle and sheep dispersing and a skirmish between the rival clans taking place in the forest. Men are injured and even slain on both sides, with Murray getting the better of Scott, capturing both young William and his older kinsman Simon, taking them back to the dungeons of Elibank. When they get here they are told in no uncertain terms that it was the wuddy for them – wuddy being an old scots word for hangman’s rope. This was within the law of the time, rough justice being handed out for cattle thieves in the turbulent borderlands. At this point Wilson has William and Simon Scott having a philosophical conversation about the merits of a brave death – it’s little interludes like this that bring much of the charm to Wilsons Tales, even if they are presented in quite an old fashioned, or occasionally stagey way.
Kirkhope Tower, 2024
Home of the Scott’s of Harden, in the Ettrick Valley
Meanwhile, Lady Murray asks Sir Gideon what his intentions are with the Scotts. Gideon points to a gnarly elm tree and tells his wife that tomorrow both men will hang from it. Here Lady Murray admonishes Sir Gideon for being foolish – for hasn’t he three daughters to marry, and a perfect, handsome young husband in his dungeon? Sir Gideon, perhaps surprisingly, thinks this is a great idea and agrees that in the morning William Scott will be given a choice – the birkie o’ Harden will either marry their daughter, ‘meikle-mouthed’ Meg, or hang. Lady Murray believes he will make the choice to marry Meg but Gideon is not so sure – and even goes as far as to say “I wouldna bee in the least surprised if he preferred the wuddy, I ken had I been in his place, what my choice would have been. I would rather die a death that was before me that marry I wife I had never seen.” These were different times, dear reader…
So, to Meg, eldest daughter of the Murray’s, whose real name was Agnes. This story and all versions I have read paint an unsympathetic portrait of Meg’s looks – it’s unclear if she had a facial disfigurement of some sort that caused her to be known as ‘muckle moothed’, but the story hinges on this idea that she was unattractive. Wilson has her discuss this proposed arrangement with her mother, and he does at least make her intelligent, pragmatic and thoughtful. It is easy to verge into caricature, but this is a real person we are dealing with not a fairy-tale. One thing all versions of the story seem to make clear however is that Meg was a figure of ridicule, and was effectively bullied both within her family and the wider community.
Elibank Castle, January 2025
Gideon goes to see William and Simon and lays out the options – the cowardly Simon begs William to marry Meg and save them both, but the hot headed young Laird has none of it – he will hang tomorrow and maintain the honour of the proud Scotts. Simon is distraught but William Scott will not be shaken, and Sir Gideon leaves them to spend their last, fitful night in the dank, pitch black dungeon of Elibank Tower with just the rats and thier own thoughts for company.
Around midnight, the prison door opened and the guard admitted a young woman, dressed as a servant. She presents herself as Lady Murray’s attendant and asks William Scott if she can do anything to help him, imploring him to think of his mother and sister back at Ettrick. William dismisses this, not wishing to be ‘unmanned’ – he wants to die as his fathers son, not crying for his mother. Seizing on this opportunity, the increasingly desperate Simon implores the servant to keep talking about William’s mother, looking for any angle to save his skin – Simon is definitely the comic relief in this version of the story. The servant goes on to ask why he won’t marry Meg, and William tells her that he won’t be forced to anything, he is a proud Scott. He asks however if she will take a message to his mother at Oakwood Tower before holding up the lamp to see her face and decide if he can trust her. Gazing upon Meg’s face (for it is she!!), he declares that if her features be not beautiful, there is honesty and kindness of every line of them. He writes the message and intrusts it to Meg, who disappears into the night…
The next morning Meg goes to meet her father and, showing her strength of character (and no little cunning) asks if she can meet the doomed laird and have the hanging delayed by a week to get to know him. Sir Gideon is impressed with Meg’s gumption but feels it is pointless – him and William Scott and both alike and he knows the young Laird of Hardens mind is made up. Nevertheless, he loves Meg and agrees to her proposal, giving William a stay of execution – but only for a day.
Meg then heads to Scott’s tower in Ettrick, armed with the letter for the soon to be grieving mother, still pretending to be a humble servant. Lady Scott it must be said is a figure of comically over the top melodrama in Wilson’s tale, but she is also charmed with Meg’s kindness, and they agree to head back to Elibank together to try and save the day.
The day of execution comes and cowardly Simon is given a pardon by Gideon Murray – but in a final show of gallant strength and loyalty says he will not leave his young master to die alone, and so agrees to be hanged with him. But wait, here comes Lady Scott and Meg, who finally reveals to all who she is. And the tale then goes that on seeing how kind hearted, warm and resourceful Meg actually is, and looking beyond her physical appearance, young William has a last minute change of heart and decides that he will take the wife over the wuddy, and the execution is quickly turned into a wedding – after which they all lived happily ever after…
That is the Wilsons Tale of the Borders version of the enduring story of Muckle Moothed Meg. The tale has been retold many times, and I daresay great embellishments have been made over the past 400 years. We do know that William Scott and Agnes ‘Meg’ Murray did marry in 1611, going on to live happily together with many children arriving. The great Sir Walter Scott himself was among the descendants from the marriage, no doubt adding more fuel to his passion for the myths and legends of The Borders. Where the facts of this marriage merges with myth is less clear – were the circumstances of Scott’s imprisonment as dramatic as the story claims, was Meg as unattractive as the tale cruelly makes out and did the marriage happen as quickly as the story suggests? These are the edges of the tale that change over time, with each retelling fraying them a little, and adding more to the mythology. There is no doubt however that it remains one of the most enduring of Borders stories, with a strong, if for me anyway somewhat muddled, moral message at its core. What I like about Wilson’s version of the story is that it gives so much agency to Meg, someone who has suffered bullying and name calling her whole life but rises above it to show the importance of kindness, perseverance and intelligence. As I mentioned at the start the story has been told in a number of ways – Poppy Browne, a former School Teacher from Biggar, has performed the story with puppets for years and brought out a children’s book of the story during the COVID lockdown. My kids love this version and its great to be able to point out the castle at Elibank when we are heading along the Tweed Valley. Meg and Will’s descendant Sir Walter Scott wrote poetry about the story, as did his friend and sometime rival James Hogg. If you go on to YouTube you will find the great Borders storyteller Mary Kenny giving her version of the tale, fittingly recorded at Sir Walter Scott’s Abbotsford.
“Her nature was generous, gentle an’ free”
Across the valley from Elibank is Forestry and Land Scotland’s Thornilee Forest where a statue of Meg and William was unveiled back in 1999. The statue stood at 8 feet tall and was carved from elm by artist Rob Taylor. Sadly, it started to weather and an infestation of flying ants eventually meant it had to be taken down in the mid 2010’s. It feels unlikely that it will be replaced with public funds being squeezed tighter than ever, but hope springs eternal that a new Meg can find a home here to help keep this story alive for generations to come.
Meg and William Scott - elmwood statue at Thornilee, 2016
Photo © M J Richardson (cc-by-sa/2.0)
Thanks for reading this first in a short series of Wilsons New Tales of The Border. Join me for the next instalment where I will add my own tale to the mythology - “The Goose and The Horse”…
Listen to the audio version of this tale on the Tweed Valley Echoes Podcast, click below.
