The Farmer of Liddesdale
by Joseph Jacobs · from Collected Folk Tales
Adapted Version
Once, a farmer had a very bad year. His crops failed. He needed help on his farm. He could not find a helper. He felt worried and alone.
"I'll hire the first one I see," he said.
A man came to his door. The man looked kind. "I am a ploughman," the man said. "I can help you."
The farmer was happy. He smiled at the man. "What is your pay?" he asked.
"I want a big corn bundle," he said. "That is all."
"Okay," said the farmer. They made a promise. They shook hands.
The next day, he put sticks in the fields. "The land is not ready," he said. He waited a few days. He checked the soil often.
The farmer watched him. From his window, he watched. The ploughman checked the sticks each day. He shook his head. He seemed patient.
One morning, the ploughman got excited. "The earth is ready!" he shouted. He jumped with joy. He worked very fast. He plowed all the fields. He planted the corn. He finished in one day. He was very quick.
The farmer was very happy. His work was done. He felt relieved.
Later, the corn grew tall. It was harvest time. The fields were golden. "Is the corn dry?" asked the farmer. "Not yet," said the ploughman. He touched the corn gently.
Soon, the ploughman said, "It is ready now." "Good," said the farmer. "First, pay me," said the ploughman. He looked stern.
He brought a very big bag. It was magic. He put the corn in the bag. He put almost all the corn in it. The bag held so much.
The farmer was scared. He did not want to lose his corn. He said a magic word. He whispered it softly.
The bag broke open. The corn fell out. It spread on the ground.
The ploughman went away. He flew into the sky. He went in a white mist. He waved goodbye.
The farmer was happy. He had his corn. He gathered it safe. Think before you promise things.
Original Story
THE FARMER OF LIDDESDALE
here was in Liddesdale (in Morven) a Farmer who suffered great loss within the space of one year. In the first place, his wife and children died, and shortly after their death the Ploughman left him. The hiring-markets were then over, and there was no way of getting another ploughman in place of the one that left. When spring came his neighbours began ploughing; but he had not a man to hold the plough, and he knew not what he should do. The time was passing, and he was therefore losing patience. At last he said to himself, in a fit of passion, that he would engage the first man that came his way, whoever he should be.
Shortly after that a man came to the house. The Farmer met him at the door, and asked him whither was he going, or what was he seeking? He answered that he was a ploughman, and that he wanted an engagement. "I want a ploughman, and if we agree about the wages, I will engage thee. What dost thou ask from this day to the day when the crop will be gathered in?" "Only as [107] much of the corn when it shall be dry as I can carry with me in one burden-withe." "Thou shalt get that," said the Farmer, and they agreed.
Next morning the Farmer went out with the Ploughman, and showed him the fields which he had to plough. Before they returned, the Ploughman went to the wood, and having cut three stakes, came back with them, and placed one of them at the head of each one of the fields. After he had done that he said to the Farmer, "I will do the work now alone, and the ploughing need no longer give thee anxiety."
Having said this, he went home and remained idle all that day. The next day came, but he remained idle as on the day before. After he had spent a good while in that manner, the Farmer said to him that it was time for him to begin work now, because the spring was passing away, and the neighbours had half their work finished. He replied, "Oh, our land is not ready yet." "How dost thou think that?" "Oh, I know it by the stakes."
If the delay of the Ploughman made the Farmer wonder, this answer made him wonder more. He resolved that he would keep his eye on him, and see what he was doing.
The Farmer rose early next morning, and saw the Ploughman going to the first field. When he reached the field, he pulled the stake at its end out of the ground, and put it to his nose. He shook his head and put the stake back in the ground. He then left the first field and went to the rest. He tried the stakes, shook his head, and returned home. In the dusk he went out the second time to the fields, tried the stakes, shook his head, and after putting them again in the ground, went home. Next morning he went out to the fields the third time. When [108] he reached the first stake he pulled it out of the ground and put it to his nose as he did on the foregoing days. But no sooner had he done that than he threw the stake from him, and stretched away for the houses with all his might.
He got the horses, the withes, and the plough, and when he reached the end of the first field with them, he thrust the plough into the ground, and cried:
"My horses and my leather-traces, and mettlesome lads,
The earth is coming up!"
He then began ploughing, kept at it all day at a terrible rate, and before the sun went down that night there was not a palm-breadth of the three fields which he had not ploughed, sowed, and harrowed. When the Farmer saw this he was exceedingly well pleased, for he had his work finished as soon as his neighbours.
The Ploughman was quick and ready to do everything that he was told, and so he and the Farmer agreed well until the harvest came. But on a certain day when the reaping was over, the Farmer said to him that he thought the corn was dry enough for putting in. The Ploughman tried a sheaf or two, and answered that it was not dry yet. But shortly after that day he said that it was now ready. "If it is," said the Farmer, "we better begin putting it in." "We will not until I get my share out of it first," said the Ploughman. He then went off to the wood, and in a short time returned, having in his hand a withe scraped and twisted. He stretched the withe on the field, and began to put the corn in it. He continued putting sheaf after sheaf in the withe until he had taken almost all the [109] sheaves that were on the field. The Farmer asked of him what he meant? "Thou didst promise me as wages as much corn as I could carry with me in one burden-withe, and here I have it now," said the Ploughman, as he was shutting the withe.
The Farmer saw that he would be ruined by the Ploughman, and therefore said:
"'Twas in the Màrt I sowed,
'Twas in the Màrt I baked,
'Twas in the Màrt I harrowed.
Thou Who hast ordained the three Màrts,
Let not my share go in one burden-withe."
Instantly the withe broke, and it made a loud report, which echo answered from every rock far and near. Then the corn spread over the field, and the Ploughman went away in a white mist in the skies, and was seen no more.
[110]
Story DNA
Moral
Be careful what you promise, especially to strangers, as supernatural forces may interpret your words literally and to your detriment.
Plot Summary
A Liddesdale farmer, devastated by loss, desperately hires a mysterious ploughman who agrees to work for a single burden-withe of corn. The ploughman idles for days, testing the soil with stakes, then miraculously plows, sows, and harrows three fields in one day. At harvest, he attempts to claim almost all the corn using an impossibly large withe, but the farmer, facing ruin, invokes a powerful entity called the 'Màrt'. The withe breaks, the corn scatters, and the ploughman vanishes into a white mist.
Themes
Emotional Arc
desperation to relief to fear to divine intervention
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Liddesdale is a valley in the Scottish Borders. The concept of a 'burden-withe' highlights a time before standardized measurements, where agreements could be open to literal and potentially exploitative interpretations. The invocation of 'Màrt' suggests a blend of Christian and older folk beliefs common in oral traditions.
Plot Beats (12)
- A farmer in Liddesdale experiences a year of tragedy, losing his family and ploughman, leaving him desperate.
- Unable to find a new ploughman, he vows to hire the first person he sees.
- A mysterious ploughman arrives and agrees to work for a single burden-withe of corn at harvest.
- The ploughman places three stakes in the fields, declares the land not ready, and remains idle for days.
- The farmer observes the ploughman repeatedly smelling the stakes and shaking his head.
- On the third morning, the ploughman violently reacts to a stake, then harnesses horses and plows, sows, and harrows three fields in one day.
- The farmer is pleased with the ploughman's efficiency until harvest time.
- The ploughman initially claims the corn is not dry, then declares it ready and demands his payment.
- He produces an enormous withe and begins to load almost all the harvested corn into it.
- The farmer, realizing he will be ruined, recites an incantation invoking the 'Màrt'.
- The withe breaks with a loud report, scattering the corn.
- The ploughman vanishes into a white mist in the sky.
Characters
The Farmer ★ protagonist
None explicitly mentioned, likely a man hardened by farm work and recent grief.
Attire: Period-appropriate farmer's attire for Liddesdale (Scotland), likely practical and sturdy, made of wool or linen.
Grief-stricken, desperate, impatient, observant, shrewd, ultimately devout.
Image Prompt & Upload
A sturdy man in his late 40s with kind, determined eyes and a weathered face. He wears faded blue overalls over a simple white shirt, scuffed brown leather boots, and a straw hat. His posture is strong and confident, one hand resting on a wooden pitchfork. He stands at the edge of a tilled field at dawn, a gentle smile on his lips. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Ploughman ⚔ antagonist
None explicitly mentioned, but possesses supernatural strength and abilities.
Attire: Period-appropriate ploughman's attire, sturdy and practical, but with an underlying sense of the uncanny.
Mysterious, cunning, powerful, mischievous, diligent when he chooses to be.
Image Prompt & Upload
A middle-aged man with a gaunt face, deep-set eyes, and a cold, calculating expression. His hair is dark and unkempt, his skin weathered from sun and wind. He wears rough, earth-stained work clothes: a tattered brown tunic, patched trousers, and heavy boots. He stands in a wide, imposing stance, leaning slightly forward with a cruel half-smile, one hand gripping the worn wooden handle of a large, sharp scythe. The scene is a stormy, dark field under a turbulent sky. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Farmer's House
The dwelling of the Farmer in Liddesdale, where the Ploughman first arrived and where he remained idle for days.
Mood: Initially desperate and anxious for the Farmer, later a place of observation and growing suspicion.
The Farmer hires the Ploughman; the Ploughman spends days idling here.
Image Prompt & Upload
Late afternoon in Liddesdale, golden hour light slants across a quiet, rolling landscape. A humble, thatched-roof farmer's cottage sits nestled against a gentle hill, its stone walls weathered and mossy. Smoke curls lazily from a single chimney. A small, overgrown vegetable garden and a rustic wooden fence surround the house. A dirt path leads to its wooden door, slightly ajar. The air is still and peaceful, with long shadows stretching across the verdant green meadows. In the distance, patchwork fields and a line of ancient, twisted oaks under a soft, hazy sky. Warm, muted tones of gold, green, and earth brown dominate the scene. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration
The Fields of Liddesdale
Three distinct fields belonging to the Farmer, initially unploughed, later marked with stakes, and eventually ploughed, sowed, and harrowed at an incredible speed. Later, they are filled with reaped corn.
Mood: Initially a source of anxiety and despair for the Farmer, then a place of mysterious activity, and finally, miraculous productivity. Later, a scene of conflict over the harvest.
The Ploughman places stakes, tests them, and then miraculously ploughs, sows, and harrows all three fields in one day. The harvest is gathered here, and the Ploughman attempts to take his payment.
Image Prompt & Upload
Golden hour light bathes the rolling fields of Liddesdale in a warm, magical glow. In the foreground, rich, dark earth lies freshly ploughed and harrowed, its furrows sharp and deep. To the left, a section of vibrant green shoots sprouts from sown seeds, while to the right, a vast stretch of golden, reaped corn stands in neat sheaves, ready for harvest. A gentle mist hangs in the low areas, and the distant hills are silhouetted against a soft amber and lavender sky. A solitary, ancient oak tree stands at a field's edge, casting long shadows. The scene conveys a sense of miraculous, rapid growth and bounty. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
The Wood
A nearby forest or grove from which the Ploughman obtains stakes and later a 'burden-withe'.
Mood: Practical, a source of natural materials for the Ploughman's mysterious actions.
The Ploughman cuts stakes for the fields and later retrieves the withe for his payment.
Image Prompt & Upload
Dawn in an ancient, mist-shrouded forest. Soft, golden light filters through a dense canopy of towering oaks and birches, illuminating floating motes of dust and pollen. The air is cool and damp. A narrow, winding dirt path disappears into the depths, flanked by gnarled tree roots and fallen logs covered in vibrant green moss. Clusters of pale mushrooms grow at the base of the trees. Ferns and wild bluebells carpet the forest floor. The atmosphere is quiet, sacred, and slightly eerie, with deep shadows and pockets of glowing mist. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
The Sky (where the Ploughman vanishes)
The open air above the fields, into which the Ploughman ascends in a white mist.
Mood: Mysterious, magical, awe-inspiring, sudden.
The Ploughman's magical departure after the withe breaks.
Image Prompt & Upload
Vast, endless sky at the golden hour of dawn, viewed from high above rolling patchwork fields of green and gold. A luminous, ethereal white mist, thick and swirling, rises from the earth below, dissolving into the soft pink and lavender clouds. Sunbeams pierce through the mist, creating god rays that illuminate the drifting vapor. The atmosphere is serene, mystical, and impossibly peaceful, with a sense of quiet ascension. The color palette is soft pastels: pale blue, rose, gold, and pure white. No structures, only the endless heavens and the vanishing mist over the distant, hazy horizon. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration
