Thanks for the invite to the weekend chat, David.
I'm Iain Old, originally from Edinburgh in Scotland and have been on WikiTree for about 18 months. I love the friendly collaborative nature of the site, the willingness of members to help out others and the fact that each person has a single profile.
As it's Halloween, I should stop and tell the old East Lothian tale about our Rigwoodie Witch..
About three hundred years ago there lived a young and beautiful woman in the village of Spott named Clara Murray. But although her hair was like the ripest corn and her eyes the deepest emerald green, all the neighbours were afraid, for she had always plenty of money, though no one knew how she came by it; and the best of eating and drinking went on at her house, chiefly at night - meat and fowls and Pumpkin wines in plenty for all comers. And when people asked how it all came, she laughed and said, "I have paid for it," but would tell them no more.
So the word went through the country that she had sold herself to the Evil One, and could have everything she wanted by merely wishing and willing, and to spite her beauty they called her "The Rigwoodie Witch.", though never to her face. Clara Murray went out but at night, and then always with a bridle and staff in her hand; but there was never the sight nor the sound of a horse near her house.
A strange story was whispered about, that if a young man drank of her Pumpkin wines at supper and afterwards fell asleep, the Rigwoodie Witch would appear in her true form of an ancient hag. The witch would throw the bridle over the young man, change him to a black stallion, and ride him all over the country, and whatever she touched with her staff became hers. Fowls, or butter, or wine, or the new-made cakes- she had but to wish and will and they were carried by spirit hands to her house, and laid in her larder. Then when the ride was done, and she had gathered enough through the country of all she wanted, she took the bridle off the young man, and he came back to his own shape and fell asleep; and when he awoke he had no knowledge of all that had happened, and the Rigwoodie Witch bade him come again and drink of her Pumpkin wines as often as it pleased him.
Now there was a fine brave young fellow in Belhaven village named Sandy Hay, and he determined to make out the truth of the story. So he often went back and forwards to Spott, and made friends with the Rigwoodie Witch, and sat down to talk to her, but always on the watch. And the Rigwoodie Witch took a great fancy to Sandy and told him he must come to supper some night, and she would give him the best of everything, and he must taste her Pumpkin wine.
So she named the night, and he went gladly, for he was filled with curiosity. And when he arrived there was a beautiful supper laid, and plenty of wine to drink; and he ate and drank, but was cautious about the wine, and spilled it on the ground from his glass when her head was turned away. Then he pretended to be very sleepy, and she said "Sandy, my lad, you are weary. Lie down there on the bench and sleep, for the night is far spent, and you are far from Belhaven."
So he lay down as if he were quite dead with sleep, and closed kits eyes, but watched her all the time. And she came over in a little while and looked at him steadily, but he never stirred, only breathed the more heavily.
Then she went softly and took the bridle from the wall, and stole over to fling it over his head; but Sandy started up, and, seizing the bridle threw it over the woman, who was immediately changed into a grey mare with green eyes. And he led her out and jumped on her back and rode away as fast as the wind till he came to the smithy at Dunbar. "Ho, smith," he cried, "rise up and shoe my mare, for she is weary after the journey."
And the smith was amazed, but he did as he was bid, and shoed the mare with the haunting eyes. Then the young man mounted again, and rode back like the wind to the house of the Witch; and there he took off the bridle, and she immediately regained her own form, and sank down in a deep sleep.
But as the shoes were of iron and immune to witchery, they remained on the Rigwoodie Witch's hands and feet, and no power on earth could remove them and she was unable to rise from her bed.
The young man left her cottage and roused the villagers of Spott. They seized the Rigwoodie Witch and prepared a fire on which they could burn her alive. Then Sandy remembered the magical bridle and ran to the witch's cottage to fetch it and burn it also. But when he arrived at the witch's cottage nothing was left of her riches but a handful of ashes. Sandy turned to the hook beside the door and saw that alone of all the witch's possessions, the bridle remained. He stretched out his hand to take it and then rushed out of the cottage to burn the bridle in the fire.
Suddenly Sandy cried out in pain and dropped the bridle. As he snatched his hand back he could see that across the back of his hand were five deep scratches that started to seep blood. And beside him, on a tree branch beside the cottage sat an enormous black cat, which hissed menacingly. And the last thing that Sandy noticed was that the cat's eyes were the deepest emerald green.....
