Tibbie Pagan

The Muirkirk Minstrel

Chris Palmer

Staring down benignly from a large gable end, clutching a small glass half full of brown liquid, beside a spinning wheel and accompanied by a ewe and lamb, Tibbie Pagan’s presence dominates the crossroads in the centre of the East Ayrshire village of Muirkirk. The inscription above her image reads: –

Isobel “Tibbie” Pagan
1741-1821
Ca’ them where the heather grows

The vast painting was commissioned several years ago by the community council to celebrate the bi-centenary of Tibbie’s death. I am very familiar with this crossroads in Muirkirk as the A70 wends its way across Ayrshire from Cumnock through Muirkirk and then Douglas to the M77 and the fast route south. Two years ago, I was startled, waiting at the traffic lights, to see for the first time the brightly coloured image of Tibbie on an hitherto plain and insignificant gable end. Had Banksy and a group of mates made a secret visit to Scotland? As red turned to amber, I had insufficient time to read the inscription, but in that moment, I resolved to return and investigate.

Before the day of my return, I asked a cross-section of friends and acquaintances if they had heard of Tibbie Pagan. None had, so I felt that my own ignorance was forgiven. Born in New Cumnock, she was lame from birth with a deformed foot, a squint and a large tumour on her side. Tibbie was described as being ‘an exceedingly ungainly woman, misanthropical, both from temperament and slighted affections’. I am not aware of the derivation of this character assessment, which appears to be quite mean and misogynistic, but it is included in the description of their favourite person on one of the village’s information boards.

She established a home on her own in a cottage on the banks of Garpel Water, where she made a living writing verses, singing and opening her cottage as a ‘howff’ – a meeting place where food and strong drink was served in a convivial atmosphere, probably unofficially. She was reputedly an exceptional singer, often singing her own compositions to the delight of her audience.

Tibbie is credited with being the original author of a poem made famous by Robert Burns, the first line of which is set out in the inscription under her portrait. In 1803, her seventy-six-page book, A collection of Songs and Poems on Several Occasions, was published. An original letter she wrote, which has survived, appears to include sentiments that summarises her attitude to life: –

“But a’ whole tract
of my time,
I foind myself inclin’d to rhyme,
When I see merry company,
I sing a song with mirth and glee.”

On a sultry, sunlit late summer/early autumn morning, I parked close to the crossroads in the centre of Muirkirk. I followed the well-marked route out of the village towards the settlement of Kames and then the countryside south of the village.

As if determined to put a final gloss on a summer that had been hardly memorable, the weather all week had been glorious, and this day was no exception. Following the River Ayr waymarkers, I headed past a farmer in a thin T-shirt tending to a flock of sheep gathered in three pens. With some trepidation I walked past three sheepdogs who, disturbed from their slumber, viewed me with suspicion.

Tibbie’s reputation rests upon her poetry and songs and the notorious house that she ran, situated by Garpel Bridge, now known as Tibbie’s Brig. Garpel Water is a swiftly flowing burn, and the crossing is reached by a gentle descent. A picnic table sits beside the path before it descends, and on that blissful morning I paused to take in the view. By the seat an empty bottle of strong cider provided extra contemporary colour. Judging by her reputation I doubt if she would have tut-tutted.

Another solitary walker ambled past, and we exchanged pleasantries about the weather. A neat knapsack suggested a morning walk like mine. I allowed my imagination to wander and had a mental image, in the years after Tibbie’s house was reduced to rubble, of two lovers agreeing to meet here, maybe from farms in opposite directions.

A large stately sycamore tree guards the bridge and I descended towards it. There is a recently placed seat beside the bridge. Still in my romantic mode of thinking, I wondered if this was where Jean and Bobby Kirkwood (to whom the seat is dedicated) met or courted.

A plaque on the bridge informs us that the bridge was rebuilt in 1995 by Maybole County Council with voluntary labour suggesting the importance of this site to the local community. Across the bridge there is a formal stone memorial. In addition, the council has planted an oak sapling well protected by a sturdy metal fence. On the sycamore tree itself, a local poet has attached his own poem, a tribute to the tree.

I had intended to walk further, but the secluded atmospheric spot seduced me into a lengthy pause, and I enjoyed the sun and scribbled some notes. It was only as I was collecting my belongings together to leave that I noticed the solitary walker, who must have passed me nearly an hour earlier, sitting at the foot of the tree, staring into the bubbling, gurgling Garpel Water. I resisted the temptation to call out to her.

Maybe, like me, she had hoped to encounter a grey wagtail or a dipper, as this would have been the perfect environment for both birds, but neither made an appearance.

By late morning I had a fair drooth, and I regretted the absence of a howff by the bridge to offer me some refreshment, maybe a song or indeed some further entertainment. Though quiet and tranquil that morning, this spot must have seen a few riotous episodes during Tibbie’s time.

It was time to leave, and I as I climbed the slope, taking a final glance back, I recognised that I would be very fortunate to see this enchanting place again on such a perfect morning. Busy now with their sheep to control, the dogs paid no heed to me, and I was soon heading back into the village.

As I drove back towards the coast, with the mural slowly disappearing in my rear mirror, I could not escape the thought that Tibbie would be better known if she was a man. The mural will at least give her life and achievements greater prominence.