The story of Lukki Minnie

Malachy shares a piece of Fair Isle folklore introducing us to the Trow.

For centuries – perhaps even for millennia, no-one is entirely sure – Shetland has been home to a very special creature. It is rarely seen these days, but it nevertheless inhabits a special place in Shetland culture and history. It is the trow.

Similar in many ways to Scandinavian trolls or Irish leprechauns, the most significant difference between Shetland trows and their folkloric cousins is that trows really exist.

Most places in Shetland have their own trow stories, but while many of them involve trickery, mischievous behaviour, and even the occasional kidnapping, few are quite as sinister as the tale of Fair Isle’s most famous trow: Lukki Minnie.

The story of Lukki Minnie’s downfall is known to all Fair Islanders, and although everybody’s version differs slightly, the essence of all of them is the same. As I remember it, the story goes like this . . .

A young boy – possibly named Willie – was out playing one afternoon on the hill called Malcolm’s Head, in the south-west of the island. He was rolling a large bannock (similar to a scone) that his mother had baked, pushing it down the steep slope and racing after it towards home.

Suddenly, the bannock disappeared, and the boy stopped dead. He saw at once that it had fallen down a hole, but he wasn’t quite sure what kind of hole it was. It was bigger than a rabbit hole, but was well hidden amongst the grass and heather. In fact, it was just big enough for him to squeeze through, which is exactly what he did. But he very quickly regretted it.

Something had grabbed hold of his shoulders and was hauling him in. He tried to pull himself back out again but he couldn’t manage, and all at once he found himself lying on the floor of a small dark room, like a cave. The only light in the room came from a peat fire in the centre, but even in that flickering gloom he could see at once that the horrible creature in front of him was Lukki Minnie.

He wanted to run but there was nowhere to go. He wanted to shout but there was no-one to hear him. He was completely stuck.

Lucki Minnie grabbed hold of the boy and she stuffed him roughly inside a sack, which she then hung up close to the fire. He could feel the heat of the flames as he hung there, and he knew she was planning to eat him.

Later that night, when everything was quiet, Willie took his chance to escape. He drew his penknife out from his pocket and quickly cut through the sack. He climbed out and ran towards the hole in the ceiling, through which he’d first arrived. But before he could get away, he heard Lukki Minnie returning home. He had to think quickly.

Willie grabbed hold of the little dog which had been sleeping by the fire, and he shoved it inside the sack, along with some crockery from the sideboard. He tied it up and hung it on the hook again, and then hid behind the door to wait.

Lukki Minnie came in with her pockets filled with potatoes and carrots. She was ready for her dinner.

“A’m gyaan ta aet dee noo” she shouted. “Bit furst A’m gyaan ta mak dee gud and saft.”

She took out a big, heavy stick from beside the fire and started to beat the sack as hard as she could. The plates inside began to crack.

“Ah can hear dy banes brackin,” she shouted.

Behind the door the boy was giggling quietly to himself. Inside the bag, the dog was yelping.

“Ah can hear dee yowlin, boy” said the trow, with a big grin on her face.

Willie was so pleased with his trick that he couldn’t help himself. He laughed and laughed so loudly that Lukki Minnie finally heard him. She spun around, her eyes blazing with anger. She knew at once what had happened.

Willie recovered quickly and darted up and out of the hole, back on to the hill he knew so well. In the pale light of the evening he could still make out the shape of his house, less than half a mile away. But the trow was close behind.

“A’m gyaan ta git dee” she screamed, as he fled down the hill towards safety. He didn’t dare to turn around.

When he reached the burn that runs along the bottom of Malcolm’s Head, Willie jumped. He sailed through the air and landed on the opposite bank, panting heavily. A second later, Lukki Minnie jumped after him. But trows’ legs are short, and she didn’t make it.

Lukki Minnie landed in the burn and was swept downstream towards the sea at Hesti Geo. Willie stood and watched her disappear, until he was sure she was gone. Then he turned and ran back home to tell the tale.

Today, when the wind blows strong from the south-west, Hesti Geo fills with thick, dirty-white scum, that blows up and over the land at the bottom of the hill. “Lukki Minnie’s still in there, churning her butter,” people say. And perhaps she is.

Malachy Tallack is 26 and lives in Fair Isle. He is a singer-songwriter, journalist, and editor of the magazine Shetland Life.
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Lord Empey: Northern Ireland likely to be without government for a year

The former UUP leader says Gerry Adams is now in "complete control" of Sinn Fein and no longer wants to be "trapped" by the Good Friday Agreement

The death of Martin McGuinness has made a devolution settlement in Northern Ireland even more unlikely and has left Gerry Adams in "complete control" of Sinn Fein, the former Ulster Unionist leader Reg Empey has said.

In a wide-ranging interview with the New Statesman on the day of McGuinness’ death, the UUP peer claimed his absence would leave a vacuum that would allow Adams, the Sinn Fein president, to consolidate his hold over the party and dictate the trajectory of the crucial negotiations to come. Sinn Fein have since pulled out of power-sharing talks, leaving Northern Ireland facing the prospect of direct rule from Westminster or a third election in the space of a year. 

Empey, who led the UUP between and 2005 and 2010 and was briefly acting first minister in 2001, went on to suggest that, “as things stand”, Northern Ireland is unlikely to see a return to fully devolved government before the inquiry into the Renewable Heat Incentive scheme is complete -  a process which could take up to a year to complete.

“Adams is now in complete control of Sinn Fein,” he said, adding that it remained unclear whether McGuinness’ successor Michelle O’Neill would be “allowed to plough an independent furrow”. “He has no equal within the organisation. He is in total command of Sinn Fein, and that is the way it is. I think he’s even more powerful today than he was before Martin died – by virtue of there just being nobody there.”

Asked what impact the passing of McGuinness, the former deputy first minister and leader of Sinn Fein in the north, would have on the chances of a devolution settlement, Empey, a member of the UUP’s Good Friday Agreement negotiating delegation, said: “I don’t think it’ll be positive – because, for all his faults, Martin was committed to making the institutions work. I don’t think Gerry Adams is as committed.

Empey added that he believed Adams did not want to work within the constitutional framework of the Good Friday Agreement. In a rebuke to nationalist claims that neither Northern Ireland secretary James Brokenshire nor Theresa May can act as honest or neutral brokers in power-sharing negotiations given their reliance on the DUP’s eight MPs, he said: “They’re not neutral. And they’re not supposed to be neutral.

“I don’t expect a prime minister or a secretary of state to be neutral. Brokenshire isn’t sitting wearing a hat with ostrich feathers – he’s not a governor, he’s a party politician who believes in the union. The language Sinn Fein uses makes it sound like they’re running a UN mandate... Gerry can go and shout at the British government all he likes. He doesn’t want to be trapped in the constitutional framework of the Belfast Agreement. He wants to move the debate outside those parameters, and he sees Brexit as a chance to mobilise opinion in the republic, and to be seen standing up for Irish interests.”

Empey went on to suggest that Adams, who he suggested exerted a “disruptive” influence on power-sharing talks, “might very well say” Sinn Fein were “’[taking a hard line] for Martin’s memory’” and added that he had been “hypocritical” in his approach.

“He’ll use all of that,” he said. “Republicans have always used people’s deaths to move the cause forward. The hunger strikers are the obvious example. They were effectively sacrificed to build up the base and energise people. But he still has to come to terms with the rest of us.”

Empey’s frank assessment of Sinn Fein’s likely approach to negotiations will cast yet more doubt on the prospect that devolved government might be salvaged before Monday’s deadline. Though he admitted Adams had demanded nothing unionists “should die in a ditch for”, he suggested neither party was likely to cede ground. “If Sinn Fein were to back down they would get hammered,” he said. “If Foster backs down the DUP would get hammered. So I think we’ve got ourselves a catch 22: they’ve both painted themselves into their respective corners.”

In addition, Empey accused DUP leader Arlene Foster of squandering the “dream scenario” unionist parties won at last year’s assembly election with a “disastrous” campaign, but added he did not believe she would resign despite repeated Sinn Fein demands for her to do so.

 “It’s very difficult to see how she’s turned that from being at the top of Mount Everest to being under five miles of water – because that’s where she is,” he said. “She no longer controls the institutions. Martin McGuinness effectively wrote her resignation letter for her. And it’s very difficult to see a way forward. The idea that she could stand down as first minister candidate and stay on as party leader is one option. But she could’ve done that for a few weeks before Christmas and we wouldn’t be here! She’s basically taken unionism from the top to the bottom – in less than a year”.

Though Foster has expressed regret over the tone of the DUP’s much-criticised election campaign and has been widely praised for her decision to attend Martin McGuinness’ funeral yesterday, she remains unlikely to step down, despite coded invitations for her to do so from several members of her own party.

The historically poor result for unionism she oversaw has led to calls from leading loyalists for the DUP and UUP – who lost 10 and eight seats respectively – to pursue a merger or electoral alliance, which Empey dismissed outright.

“The idea that you can weld all unionists together into a solid mass under a single leadership – I would struggle to see how that would actually work in practice. Can you cooperate at a certain level? I don’t doubt that that’s possible, especially with seats here. Trying to amalgamate everybody? I remain to be convinced that that should be the case.”

Accusing the DUP of having “led unionism into a valley”, and of “lashing out”, he added: “They’ll never absorb all of our votes. They can try as hard as they like, but they’d end up with fewer than they have now.”

Patrick Maguire writes about politics and is the 2016 winner of the Anthony Howard Award.