The Beggar Shepherd is an auld Christmas tale from bygone years. It is set in Galloway in the late 16th Century. On Christmas Eve, a shepherd set off for the Yule Fair and left a young herder boy in charge of his ewes. The young shepherd-lad was conscientious and took his job seriously. These were dangerous times- it was during the Little Ice Age, when the winters were harsh and a time when the Border Reivers were all-powerful and could take whatever they wanted. Wolves still roamed the land, and a pregnant yowe was easy pickings in the dark.
His master had left strict orders- the sheep must be gathered in before the gloaming. Daylight hours in the Scottish winter are short. Before long, the boy looked out the window of the wattled clay hut and saw that the light was fading. Pulling on a ragged coat, the boy set out to gather the flock.
Soon the sheep were rounded up and penned for the night- all save one. He searched and searched to no avail. Alas, the hapless creature could not be found. The sun had almost set, and he continued his search in the last of the fading light.
Dejected and Cold
With his hands and face scratched on the briar and bramble bushes and his boots filled with icy bog water, he returned to the hut dejected. He did not want to fail his master.
He threw a peat on the fire and hoped that when the moon arose, there would be enough light to find the ewe, but he didn’t hold out much hope.
St Ringan’s Well
Suddenly, he remembered St Ringan’s Well, which was located nearby. The locals often went there in times of trouble to beg for the saint’s aid-people who had lost things. Was it not Christmas Eve? Didn’t they say that St Ringan returns to Galloway each Christmas?
He paused. People in need brought gifts to the saints. But he was a lowly herdboy. What could he offer a saint? All he had were his ragged clothes and a bowl of kail brose that was for his supper. It was a meagre offerings for a saint. And hunger gnawed at his stomach. But the ewe had to be found. He had no wish to stir his master’s ire. There was nothing for it- the brose must be heated at the fire and taken to the well.
Carefully, he carried the warm brose through the darkness to the well. He laid it down on the stone edge. Then he kneeled and, fervently prayed to St Ringan to help him find the lost sheep. At last, he stood up. He waited. Nothing had changed. There was nothing for it. He would return to his hut. He cast one last look at the bowl of brose and heard his stomach rumble. Sighing, he took his first steps back to the flock. Suddenly, he heard a little noise behind him. Turning, he discovered a ragged man slurping the brose he had left for the saint.
The Beggar Shepherd
He was about to complain when he remembered that St Rinan would not have turned away a poor, hungry man.
“It’s a grand night, laddie.” The beggar remarked.
“I wish it were,” the herd-boy replied dejectedly, “I’ve lost one of my master’s ewes. No doubt some wild animal will kill it during the night, or it will stray so that I’ll never find it.”
“Don’t worry,” said the beggar. “It’s not too far away. You’ll find it caught in a bramble bush in the deep ditch beneath yon saugh (willow) trees that always bloom first in the spring.”
The boy shook his head. “But I’ve been along that ditch a dozen times, and it’s not there.”
“Well, that’s where you’ll find her.”
The boy sighed.
The beggar finished the dish of brose, and then together they walked to the place he had described.
The Beggar Shepherd and the Rescued Ewe
There was the ewe! Caught in the thorns near the bottom of the ditch! Alas, its wool had become so tangled in brambles that it could not move. The boy scrambled down the bank into the cold water of the ditch, but try as he might, he could not free the distressed beast.
The beggar joined him, and eventually, they freed the sheep. But the sheep was exhausted and could not stand. The boy was too small to carry the weight of the sheep, but with the beggar slung the beast around his shoulders and carried it to the hut. The man set the beast next to the fire, where it recovered.
“Please stay here the night?” the boy asked. “It’s cold outside. I have nothing more to eat, but you’re welcome to the fire.”
“Thank you, laddie,” the beggar replied. “It’s a kind offer. But I must be on my way, or I’ll be late.”
“Late?” exclaimed the boy. “But where are you going at this time of night? It’s nearly midnight.”
“Where? Why, Bethlehem, of course! Where else would I be on Christmas night?”
When the herd-boy looked up, the beggar was gone. He ran to the door and stared out into the cold night. The beggar had gone. There, by the rising moon, was a shimmering pathway that led from the doorway of the little clay hut straight to the East.
Saint Ninian
St Ringan, the beggar shepherd, is another name for St Ninian. St Ninian was born around 360 CE and died around 432 CE. He was a bishop generally regarded as the first Christian missionary to Scotland. He is credited with widespread conversions among the Britons and possibly among the Southern Picts.
The two main historical sources for Ninian’s life and work are not very reliable. One is a 12th‑century Life by St Aelred of Rievaulx. Aelred says Ninian was the son of a Christian Brittonic chieftain. Ninian made a pilgrimage to Rome, where he was consecrated as a bishop. In Aelred’s account, he travelled back through Gaul and became a friend of St Martin of Tours.
The other main source is earlier. It is St Bede the Venerable’s 8th‑century Ecclesiastical History of the English People. Bede suggests that Ninian began the conversion of the Picts. This claim rests on still earlier accounts of the period, which are themselves not entirely trustworthy.
Bishop of Galloway
It seems more certain that Ninian was the first bishop of Galloway. Modern anthropology supports the belief that he established his see at Whithorn in Caledonia. There, around 397 CE, he built a whitewashed stone church. This gave Whithorn its later name, “White House”, from the Anglo‑Saxon Huitaern and the Latin Candida Casa. The choice of stone was striking, as most Celtic churches at that time were wooden. By the 6th century, the monastery he founded at Whithorn had become a leading Anglo‑Saxon monastic centre.
Most scholars agree that his missionary work laid important foundations for the later missions of St Columba and St Kentigern.
Saint Ringan’s Well
The well in the story of the ‘Beggar Shepherd’ once sat in the middle of the field in the Parish of Kelton near Castle Douglas and has now been filled in. See https://www.trove.scot/image/2466591
