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YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
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NOTICES
AN1>
ANECDOTES
ILLUSTRATIVE OF
the incidents, characters, and scenery
NOVELS AND ROMANCES
A COMPLETE GLOSSARY FOR ALL HIS WORKS.
RUE DU COQ, NEAR THE LOUVRE.
SOLD ALSO BY THEOPHILE BARROIS, JUN., RUE RICHELIEU; TRUCHY, BOULEVARD
DES ITAL1ENS; AMYOT, RUE DE LA PAIX; LIBRAIKIE DES ETRANCERS, 55,
RUE NEUVE SAINT-AUGUSTIN ; AND FRENCH AND ENGLISH LIBRARY,
RUE VIV1ENNE.
DESCRIBED IN TI1E
OF
SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart.
WITH
PARIS,
BAUDRY'S EUROPEAN LIBRARY,
1833.
PREFACE.
No other part of the civilised world furnishes objects more
calculated to invite poetic, romantic, or picturesque descrip¬
tion, than the
" Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the llood!"
and although these have met with some share of attention,
local and general manners and customs have been too neg¬
lected, or too commingled with the caricature of romance
itself, to convey a just impression or knowledge of their past
and present state. The changes in the manners of Scotland
that have taken place, from time to time, since the era of
William the Conqueror, have been so little noticed, that what
knowledge we had of them until the appearance of the Waver-
ley Novels, we owe more to essay writers than to any of the
Scottish historians; audit must be allowed, that the tendency
so lately manifested to pourtray the peculiarities in Scottish
manners, has gone a great way in fdling up the chasm in the
literature of the country.
The methods of instruction in Scotland have been on the
increase since the rebellion, in the year 17A5 ; and the advances
in literature keep pace, at least, with their corresponding at¬
tainments in the arts and sciences. Metaphysical speculation
begins, perceptibly, to yield to the more seductive fascinations
of national romance. At one period, however, and that, too,
in what has been called the golden age of British literature, the
early part of the last century, our novels contained only the
most depraved pictures of human life, and our romances were
generally loo wild or too amatory, to be read without im-
11
PREFACE.
minent danger. To this style of writing succeeded another,
whose distinguishing characteristic was monotonous simpli¬
city; lives and adventures of love-sick ladies, or, what were still
more tiresome and uninteresting, historical tales and rural
stories. Such, however, was the taste of the age; and if, per¬
chance, an historical novel or romance did appear, it was as
soon eclipsed under the influence of some more amatory and
feminine effusion.
The success of a few Gothic stories, as they were denomi¬
nated, brought forward a whole host of others, written upon
the same plan ; and the metropolis was inundated with Lionels
and de Montagues, and cross knights, and seneschals, and
pilgrims and warders, and a thousand other ancient fragments,
all huddled together without order or arrangement.
This age of novel-writing fretted its hour and vanished, and
we reached a new era in composition, for which, indeed, it
would be difficult to find an appropriate term ; the cacoethes
scribendi raged like an epidemic, infecting all who inhaled its
contagious influence. Some good works occasionally ap¬
peared, but those were like wandering stars which ran their
erratic course in the sky, with those around, which could either
follow the new tract, or quit the old one. The greatest darkness is.
before the dawning; in the midst of the literary gloom burst
forth Waverley, and the astonishment awakened by that power¬
ful produe °on was kept in constant exercice by its no less ce¬
lebrated successors. The latter of these were evidently founded
on a broad historical basis, and while reading their pages, it
seems as if the times they recorded had returned again, and
we became actual spectators of the scenes they displayed. But,
notwithstanding the admiration which these works excited, it
was thought by many rather a daring, if not an improper, act,
thus to bring forward the real actors of history, and to place
them in the same scenes with fictitious personages; alleging
against this system, that it would confuse such as were unac¬
quainted with the true circumstances, by causing them to
blend romance with history. This danger is now too old to
excite alarm, any more than the apprehension that the works of
iEsop or Gay should cause the rising generation to believe that
the inanimate subjects, without the aid of prosopopaeia, can
talk and reason, and hold "colloqui sublime," like an M.P. or
a blue stocking. There is indeed not only no real danger at¬
tending these historical novels and romances, but, if properly
conducted, they produce actual good,—for such has been the
PREFACE.
care bestowed upon the Scottish series, that in many instances
their composition must have required little less reading and
x'esearch than that of a true history. Hence .is induced a taste
for biography and antiquities, and the consequent investigation
of our ancient chronicles; for many will be led to turn to such
scenes in order to learn more of the characters which had al¬
ready interested them.
The antiquities of a country must be highly valuable to every
onewho would possessan intimate acquaintance with the ancient
manners and customs of its inhabitants. The popular prejudices
and superstitions enter no less forcibly than usefully into the ge¬
neral delineation. The terrors of man in that rude state of
society in which science had not yet begun to trace efforts
towards their causes in the established laws of nature, seem
every where to have laid the foundation of a multiplicity of
popular creeds, of which the object is to connect man with
mysterious beings of greater power and intelligence than himself.
The light of Christianity and the progress of knowledge, which
have done so much to rectify the judgment, as well as to purify
the heart, have not yet altogether dispelled the illusions which
had possessed the imagination during the infancy and helpless¬
ness of rational being.—These incidents, though of no great
value in themselves, in conjunction with some general obser¬
vation drawn from authentic historical sources, may not prove
uninteresting to those who are curious to trace the history of
national manners and popular superstitions of ouVown times;
and, since it is as representations of Scottish manners, super¬
stitions blended with historical incidents and characteristic
traits, interspersed with scenery of the most romantic and pic¬
turesque hue, that the descriptions of the AYaverley Novels are
primarily intended—our materials have been directed into
the same channels. Our intention is to revive him if pos¬
sible in the memory of a grateful public, by designing the
present volume as merely another stone to the cairn, the
mountain cairn of his literary honours.
Some writers suppose a prevailing sentiment to influence
their heroes, and every action they perform, and even every
word which they utter, seem to be dictated by the ruling
passion, and by that only. It is not thus, however, that human
characters, even when under the influence of the strongest
emotions, are actually displayed on the great theatre of life;
and it is not thus, accordingly, that our great master of
description has pourtrayed the characters which he employs.
IV
PREFACE.
So much interest, in fact, has this excellency of our author's
thrown around them, thai, if we rightly interpret the feel¬
ings of the generality of readers, from those manifested in
some of our most popular periodicals, it has long been seriously
believed and ultimately confirmed, that many of the portraits
in novels have been copied from individuals, who either had
lived, or were living at the time of their conception. This, no
doubt, is a proud triumph of the author's genius ; and nothing
surely could have been more flattering to him, however much
it may have amused him in another point of view, than to find
himself so completely master of the imaginations of his reader,
as to have invested with a living interest whatever scenes he
has chosen to fix upon, and to elevate into a gay resemblance
of actual life the vivid creations of his own fancy. A little reflec¬
tion, however, will at once evince what is the true secret of all
this interest; and while there is little doubt that the author
has interwoven with his narratives whatever remarkable charac¬
ters, or incidents, or scenes, his keen observation of life may
have pointed out to him as proper for this purpose, it must
always be believed that the living likeness of his characters, has,
in the generality of instances at least, been derived, not from
their invaluable accordance with any substantial originals, but
from that elasticity of talent which has enabled the author to
enter into the very soul, and to speak with the very tone and
meaning of every individual actor, whom he has thought proper
to introduce.
The Edition of Sir Walter Scott's Novels and Romances, referred to in the
notes, is that published by Baudry, Paris, complete in twenty-four Svo vols.
CONTENTS.
Page.
THE ANCIENT SCOTS.
State of Society 1
Dress, Costume 3
Crimes, Superstition, Credulity 5
Domestic Manners 6
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Language 7
Diet and Cookery 8
Field Sports, Games and Diversions 9
Anno Domini 1400 ad A.D. 1548 10
Jurisprudence 12
Morals, Manners, &c 14
The Field of Stirling 18
Scottish Affairs, from 1680 to 1701 24
Torture of the Boots and Thumbikin 26
Execution of Rumbold, the Projector of the Rye-House Plot. 32
The Highland Fire-Cross 34
The Covenanters 35
State of the Scottish Army in 1641 42
Battle of Tippermuir • . . 45
The Rebellions 48
A List of the Clans of Scotland 53
A List of the Chiefs of Clans, with their Numbers in 1715. . 54
The Memorable Forty-five 61
Battle of Gladsmuir 69
A List of Prince Charles's Officers and Troops 101
Address of the Highland Chiefs to Prince Charles 103
Prince Charles and Miss Walkenshaw 104
Macpherson of Auny and Cameron of Lochiel. . , . . . ib.
Imprisonment of Prince Charles at Paris.. ...... 108
The Last of the Stuarts Ill
ii CONTENTS.
Page.
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
Clans 114
Dress 114
Arms ib.
Diffusion of Knowledge in the Highlands 06
Civilisation 4 *'
Family Pride ll>-
A Banquet 4'0
Christmas-day 'b.
The Schoolmaster 121
A Hedge Alehouse *25
The Bagpipes 120
Presentment, Second sight 128
Brownies 131
Ghosts 134
Story of Fhua Ablioir Bein Baynac and Clashneck Aulnaic. . 135
Hill of Spirits 139
■ Cairns, or Heaps of Stones 140
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
Ballachelish. 141
Glencoe.—Water-fall 143
Caves 145
Ailsa Rock 140
Abbotsford 149
Etterick and Yarrow 151
Melrose 153
Visit to Sir Walter Scott 154
THE BORDERS 155
Antiquities 150
Castles 157
The English Border 159
Moss-troopers 160
Present State of the Borders 163
The Peasantry
Cooking Utensils
GYPSIES.
Elopement of the Countess Cassilis with Johnnie Faa. . . . 167
Glamour
Religion of the Gypsies Ill
Their Language
Gypsy Colony 174
Present State of the Gypsies
WITCHES i8o
Statute against Witchcraft
Beatrix Layng and Janet Cornphat
CONTENTS. iii
Page.
FAIRIES 193
Duergan or Dwarfs 195
Alison Pearson 196
Old Nanzy 200
The Plora Wood, between Traquair and Selkirk 202
The Brownies 203
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
Critical Remarks 205
Characters and Incidents 208
WAVERLEY.
Critical Remarks 211
Bradwardine 212
Davie Gellatley 214
Fidelity of a Celtic Madman. 225
llory Dall, the Harper 226
The Bodach Glas ib.
GUY MANNERING.
Groundwork of the Novel 229
Counsellor Pleydell 232
Driver 239
Mr. H.'s Shadow .242
Public Houses 245
Dandie Dinmont 246
Dominie Sampson 248
Meg Merrilies 251
THE ANTIQUARY.
Groundwork of the Novel 254
Edie Ochiltree ib.
Oldbuck 259
IVANHOE.
Groundwork of the Novel 260
Critical Remarks. 261
Extracts from Old Plays 263
Archery ib.
ROB ROY.
Life of Rob Roy 264
TALES OF MY LANDLORD.—THE BLACK DWARF.
Bauldy and Mr. Peter Pattieson 270
Elsbender the Recluse ib.
OLD MORTALITY.
Groundwork of the Novel 275
History of the Period 276
Old Mortality 279
iv CONTENTS.
Page.
Balfour of Burley 280
Sergeant Bothvvell 283
Lady Margaret Bellenden 283
Kettledrummle 284
Covenanters' Churchyard ^'
The Yale of Gandercleugh 28^
Tillietudlem
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
Critical Remarks 28^
Douce David Deans 28'
Deans's Family 288
Characters of the Novel 289
Mobs and Executions * 292
Porteous Mob 293
The City Guard. . 296
Helen Walker 298
The Tolbooth 7l)-
Daddie Ratcliffe 299
St. Leonard's Crag 899
Muschat's Cairn
The Gallowlee 80 *
St. Anthony's Chapel 892
THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.
Groundwork of the Novel 403
Caleb Balder stone 306
Other Characters 30S
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
Critical Remarks 308
Characters 309
The Great Montrose ib.
Murder of Lord Menteith 318
THE MONASTERY.
Groundwork of the Novel 320
Characters. 321
Scenery,—Abbey of Melrose 323
Glendearg i&.
Hillslop Tower 325
Smailholm Tower 326
THE ABBOT.
Characters 328
KENILWORTH.
Characters 229
Kenilworth Castle 331
Fete Champetre 333
CONTENTS. v
Page.
THE PIRATE.
Critical Remarks 335
Characters 336
THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL.
Groundwork of the Novel 336
Critical Remarks 337
Davy Ramsay 340
QUENT1N DURWARD.
Groundwork of the Novel 340
Character of Louis XI., by Comines 341
Character of Charles the Bold, by the same 342
Account of Friar Robert 343
Superstition of Louis XI 344
Account of Galeotus Martius ib.
Murder of the Bishop of Liege 345
Death of the Duke of Burgundy 347
PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.
Peveril's Castle of the Peak 348
Tournament at Peveril 349
Jeffrey Hudson 350
ST. RONAN'S WELL.
Meg Dods 352
REDGAUNTLET.
Critical Remarks 352
Sir Robert Grierson 354
Redgauntlet Horse-shoe 355
TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Groundwork of The Betrothed 356
Origin of The Talisman 357
WOODSTOCK.
Mrs. Macdonald and Prince Charles 358
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
Origin of The Highland Widow 361
Origin of The Two Drovers 362
New Introduction to The Surgeon's Daughter, by Sir Walter
Scott ib.
Narrative of Mr. Train ib.
Groundwork of The Fair Maid of Perth 366
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN.
The Author's Remarks. 368
vi
CONTENTS.
Page.
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.
Introduction, written by Mr. Lockhart 370
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
New Introduction, by Sir Walter Scott, sent from Naples,
in February, 375
COMPLETE GLOSSARY to Sir Walter Scott's Novels and
Romances 391
HISTORICAL
NOTICES AND ANECDOTES.
THE ANCIENT SCOTS.
r To enable the reader, on whatever side of the Tweed he
may reside, to appreciate more sensibly many of the characters,
incidents, and scenes, original and select, introduced into the
following pages, from many popular and well authenticated
sources, it is presumed that some brief historical notices, by
way of prelude, of the state of society among the ancient Scots,
at peculiar periods of their history, may not be unacceptable.
Among civilized people, hospitality has always been held in
the highest estimation. It was, indeed, believed, that the Gods
sometimes vouchsafed to visit this terrestrial speck in the cre¬
ation, in the disguise of distressed travellers, to observe the
actions of man. The apprehension, therefore, of despising some
deity instead of a traveller, induced people to receive strangers
with respect, and thence the rights of hospitality were most
sacredly and inviolably maintained. According to Macpherson,*
no nation in the world carried their hospitality to a greater
extent than the ancient Scots. It was ever deemed infamous
for many ages, in a man of condition, to have the door of his
house shut at all, lest, as the bards express it, "the stranger
should come and behold his contracted soul." Some of the
* Vide Ossian, Vol. II. p. 0. Edit. 17'JG.
I
2
THE ANCIENT SCOTS.
chiefs were possessed of this hospitable disposition to an extra¬
ordinary degree, and the bards, perhaps upon a private account,
have never failed to recommend it in their Eulogia.
The English noblemen and gentlemen who accompanied
James I. and his Queen to Scotland, introduced, it is said, a
more luxurious mode of living into that kingdom than had been
formerly known; and in consequence of an harangue against
this, by a Bishop of St. Andrew, in 1433, an act passed, re¬
gulating the manner in which all orders of persons should live,
and, in particular, prohibiting the use of pies and other baked
meats (then first known in Scotland) to all under the rank of
barons. It was the custom of great families to have four meals
a day—namely, breakfast, dinner, supper, and livery, which
was a kind of collation in their bed-chambers, immediately be¬
fore they went to rest. They breakfasted at seven, dined at ten
in the forenoon, supped at four, had their liveries between eight
and nine, and soon after went to bed.
The barons not only kept numerous households, but very
frequently entertained still greater numbers of their friends,
retainers, and vassals. These entertainments were conducted
with much formal pomp, but not with equal delicacy and clean¬
liness. The lord of the mansion sat in state, in his great
chamber, at the head of his long clumsy oaken board; and his
guests were seated on each side on long hard benches or forms,
exactly according to their stations; and happy was the man
whose rank entitled him to be placed above the great family
silver salt in the middle. The table was loaded with great ca¬
pacious pewter dishes, filled with salted beef, mutton, and
butcher's meat of all kinds, with venison, poultry, sea-fowl,
game, fish, and other materials, dressed in different ways, ac¬
cording to the fashion of the times. The side-boards were
plentifully furnished with ale, beer, and wines, which were
handed to the company when called for, in pewter and wooden
cups, by the marshals, grooms, yeomen,- and waiters of the
chamber, ranged in particular order. But with all this pomp
and plenty, there was little elegance. The guests were obliged
to use their fingers instead of forks, which were not yet invented.
They sat down at table at ten in the morning, and did not rise
from it till two in the afternoon.
The diversions of the people continued much the same; as
DRESS, COSTUME.
3
tilts, tournaments, hunting among people of rank, boxing, quoit-
throwing, pitching the stone, wrestling, constituted those of the
common people. Such were among the early manners of the
Scottish people, and which the author of Waverley has not
failed to embody in a variety of shapes in the interesting series
of novels from his distinguished pen.
Dress, Costume.—The dress of the Scots and English no¬
bility during the reigns of Richard and Henry VII. was grotesque
and fantastical, such as renders it difficult at first to distinguish
the sex.* Over the breeches was worn a petticoat; the doublet
was laced like the stays of a pregnant woman, across a stomacher,
and a gown or mantle with wide sleeves descended over the
doublet and petticoat down to the ankles. Commoners were
satisfied, instead of a gown, with a frock or tunic shaped like
a shirt, gathered at the middle, and fastened round the loins by
a girdle, from which a short dagger was generally suspended.
But the petticoat was rejected after the accession of Henry VIII.,
when the browsers or light breeches, that displayed the minute
symmetry of the limbs, was revived, and the length of the doublet
and mantle diminished.
The fashions which the great have discarded, are often re¬
tained by the lower orders, and the form of the tunic, a Saxon
garment, may still be discovered in the waggoner's frock; of the
trouse, and perhaps of the petticoat, in the different trowsers
worn by smugglers and fishermen.
These habits were again diversified by minute decorations
and changes of fashion: from an opinion that corpulence con¬
tributes to dignity, the doublet was puckered, stuffed, and dis¬
tended round the body; the sleeves were swelled into large
ruffs; and the breeches bolstered about the hips; but how are
we to describe an artificial protuberance, gross and indecent in
this age, if we may judge from the portrait of Henry VIII. and
others, a familiar appendage to the dress of the Sovereign, the
knight and mechanic, at a future period retained in comedy as
* The Scottish was apparently the same with the English dress, at this period,
the bonnet excepted, peculiar both in its colour and form. The masks and
trains, and superfluous finery of female apparel, had been uniformly prohibited;
but fashion is superior to human laws, and the ladies still persisted in retaining
their finery and muzzling their faces.
I *
4
THE ANCIENT SCOTS.
a favourite theme of licentious merriment ? The doublet and
breeches were sometimes slashed, and with the addition of a
short cloak, to which a stiffened cap was peculiar, resembled the
national dress of the Spaniards. The doublet is now trans¬
formed into a waistcoat, and the cloak or mantle, to which the
sleeves of the doublet were transferred, has been converted
gradually into a modern coat; but the dress of the age was justly
censured as inconvenient and clumsy. " Men's servants," to
whom the fashions had descended with the clothes of their
masters, " have," says Fitzherbert, " such pleytes uppon theyr
brestes, and ruffles uppon theyr sieves, above theyr elbowes,
that yf theyr mayster, or theymselfe, hadde never so greatte
neede, they coulde not shoote one shote to hurte theyr ennemyes,
till they had caste off theyr coats, or cut off theyr sieves."
The dress of the peasantry was similar, but more convenient,
consisting generally of trunk hose, and a doublet of coarse and
durable fustian.
The materials employed in dress were rich and expensive ;
cloth of gold, furs, silks, and velvets profusely embroidered.
The habits of Henry VIII. and his queen, on their procession to
the Tower previous to their coronation, are described by Hall,
an historian delighting in shows and spectacles. " His grace
wared in his uppermost apparell a robe of crimsyn velvet,
furred with armyns; his jacket or cote of raised gold; the pla¬
card embroidered with diamonds, rubies, emeraudes, greate
pearles, and other riche stones; a greate banderike about his
necke, of large bolasses. The quene was apparelled in white
satyn embroidered, her hair hangying down to her backe, of a
very greate lengthe, beweteful and goodly to behold, and on her
hedde a coronall, set with many riche orient stones."
The attire of females was becoming and decent, similar in its
fashion to their present dress, but less subject to change and
caprice. The large and fantastic head-dresses of the former
age were superseded by coifs and velvet bonnets, beneath which
the matron gathered her locks into tuff's and tussocks; but the
virgin's head was uncovered, and her hair braided and fastened
with ribbons. Among gentlemen, long hair was fashionable
throughout Europe, till the Emperor Charles, during a voyage,
devoted his locks for his health or safety; and in England,
Henry, a tyrant even in taste, gave efficacy to the fashion by a
CRIMES, SUPERSTITIONS.
peremptory order for his attendants and courtiers to poll their
heads. The same spirit, probably, induced him, by sumptuary
laws, to regulate the dress of his subjects. Cloth of gold or
tissue was reserved for the Dukes and Marquesses; if of a
purple colour, for the royal family. Silks and velvets were
restricted to commoners of wealth or distinction; but embroidery
was interdicted from all beneath the degree of an Earl. Cull's
for the sleeves, and bands and ruffs for the neck, were the in¬
vention of this period; but felt hats were of earlier origin, and
were still coarser and cheaper than caps or bonnets. Pockets,
a convenience known to the ancients, are perhaps, the latest
real improvement in dress; but instead of pockets, a loose
pouch seems to have been sometimes suspended from the
girdle.
Crimes, Superstitions, Credulity.—Murders and assassi¬
nations are frequent in Scottish history about this period, for the
people were cruel, fierce, and ungovernable; and, to judge from
the desperate crimes of the nobility, their manners were neither
more softened, nor their passions better controlled and re¬
gulated. But whatever be the crimes of a people, there is in
human nature a reforming principle, that ultimately corrects
and amends its degeneracy; and history furnishes repeated
examples of nations passing from even a mean effeminacy, to
an enthusiasm that regenerates every virtue. Such a change
was effected in a partial degree by the reformation; which, re¬
calling its proselytes from the errors and abuses of the Romish
superstition, taught them to renounce the dissipation and vices
of the age, to assume the badge of superior sanctity and more
rigid virtue, to suffer in adversity with patience, and to en¬
counter persecution and death with fortitude. Sectaries, from
the constant circumspection requisite in their conduct, contract
an habitual and gloomy severity; and foreigners, ever more ob¬
servant than natives, discovered in the present period, symptoms
of that puritanical spirit, which, at the distance of a century,
was destined to give liberty to England, and law to kings.
The reformation might reflect discredit on recent miracles;
but the period is still distinguished by excessive credulity. An
Egyptian experiment, repeated by James IV. exhibits the su-,
6,
THE ANCIENT SCOTS.
perstitious credulity of the Scots at this period: either to discover
the; primitive language of the human race, or to ascertain the
first formation of speech, he enclosed two children, with a dumb
attendant, in Inchkeith, an uninhabited Island of the Forth; and
it was believed that the children, on arriving at maturity, com¬
municated their ideas in pure Hebrew, the language of Pa¬
radise.
Domestic Manners.—The domestic manners of the Scots have
seldom attracted historical notice, and their advances in refine¬
ment are to be collected or conjectured from their peculiar
customs, their progress in the arts, and their improvement in
the various comforts of life. Their morals, contrasted with
those of their ancestors, are arraigned as degenerate, by the
historian Boethius, who accuses their intemperance, censures
their luxury, and laments their departure from the frugal mo¬
deration and rugged virtues of the ancient Scots. His de¬
scription, however, of these premature obdurate virtues is far
from attractive: and what he denominates vicious intemperance,
and excessive luxury, may be fairly interpreted an increasing
refinement, and superior elegance of social life. The nobles,
who resorted seldom to the cities, preserved in their castles
their former rude, but hospitable magnificence, which increased
their retainers, and strengthened their power, secured their
safety, or enabled them to prosecute their deadly feuds. The
people were divided into factions by those lords to whom they
attached themselves, whose interest they espoused, and whose
quarrels they adopted, and the clans peculiar at present to the
Highlands were probably once universal in Scotland.
In the Highlands and on the Borders, clans were perpetuated
by a constant warfare, that inured the people to the fierceness
and rapine of a predatory life. As thieves and plunderers, their
characters were proverbial; yet their depredations, committed
generally on hostile tribes, assume an appearance of military
virtue; and their mutual fidelity, their observance of promises,
and, in the Highlands, their inviolable attachments to their
chieftains, are circumstances sufficient almost to redeem their
character. The Chattan clan, during the minority of James V.,
had made a destructive incursion into Murray, but after their
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
7
return were assailed and oppressed by superior forces; and
two hundred of the tribe, rather than betray their chieftain, or
disclose his retreat, preferred and suffered an ignominious
death.
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Language.—The mutability of language to the learned, whose
fame depends on its duration, an incessant topic of serious re¬
gret, seems to be counteracted by the art of printing, which, in
proportion as it disseminates a taste for letters, re-acts as a
model on colloquial speech, and operates, if not entirely to
repress innovation, at least to preserve the stability and perpe¬
tuate the radical structure of language. Such stability the English
language has acquired from printing, and, at the distance of
three centuries, still exhibits the same phraseology and syntac¬
tical form, varied only by those alterations essential to the pro¬
gressive refinement of speech. The language of this period, if
necessary to discriminate its peculiar style, was unpolished and
oral; its character, its rude simplicity, neither aspiring to ele¬
gance nor solutions of ease, but written as it was spoken, without
regard to selection or arrangement; reduced to modern ortho¬
graphy, it is only distinguishable from the common colloquial
discourse of the present period by a certain rust of antiquity* by
phrases that are abrogated, or words that are either effaced or
altered. These, however, are not numerous; and we may con¬
clude from the composition of the learned, that the language of
the people differed little from the present unless in pronuncia¬
tion, which, to judge from orthography, was harsh, and such as
would now be denominated provincial or vulgar. Whatever
has since been superadded, either by a skilful arrangement, or
the incorporation of foreign or classical words and idioms, is
more the province of critical disquisition than historical research;
yet it merits observation, that the first attempts at elegance in
the English language are ascribable in poetry to Surry; in
prose, perhaps to Sir Thomas More, whose English style, as it
was modelled on his Latin, is constructed with art, and replete
with invasions approaching to that which, in contra-distinction
to the vulgar, may justly be denominated a learned diction.
Thus history has already furnished sufficient specimens both
8
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
of the Scottish and English languages which descended from the
same Gothic original, and, nearly similar in former periods,
divaricated considerably during the present. This is to be attri¬
buted to the alteration and improvement of the English, for the
Scottish were more stationary; nor is there in the language a
material difference between the compositions of James I. and
those of Bellenden, Dunbar, and Douglas, each of whom, by the
liberal adaption of Latin words, enriched and polished his ver¬
nacular idiom. But for the union of the crowns, which in lite¬
rature rendered the English the prevalent language, the Scottish
might have risen to the merit of a civil dialect, different rather
in pronunciation than in structure; not so solemn, but more
energetic, nor less susceptible of literary culture.
Diet and Cookery.—The diet of the Scots was worse and
more penurious at this time than that of the English. The pea¬
sants subsisted chiefly on oatmeal and cabbages, for animal food
was sparingly used even at the tables of substantial gentlemen.
An English traveller who experienced the hospitality of a
Scottish knight, describes the table as furnished with large
platters of porridge, in each of which was a small piece of
sodden beef, and remarks that the servants entered in their
blue caps without uncovering, and, instead of attending, seated
thetnselves with their master at table. His mess, however, was
better; it consisted of a boiled pullet with prunes in the broth;
but his guest observed, "no art of cookery," or furniture of
household stuff, but rather a rude neglect of both.
Forks are a recent invention, and in England, the table was
only supplied with knives; but in Scotland, every gentleman
produced from his girdle a knife, and cut the meat into morsels,
for himself and the women, a practice that first intermixed the
ladies and gentlemen alternately at table. The use of the fingers
in eating required a scrupulous attention to cleanliness, and
ablution was customary, at least at court, both before and after
meals. But the court and nobility emulated the French in their-
manners, and adopted probably their refinements in diet. The
Scottish reader will observe that the knight's dinner was com¬
posed of two coarse dishes peculiar to Scotland; but others of
an exquisite delicacy were probably derived from the French,
fi)d retained with little alteration by a nation otherwise ignorant
FIELD SPORTS.
9
of the culinary arts. The Scots, though assimilating fast with
the English, still resemble the French in their mess tables. The
English at this period were reckoned sober : the Scots intem¬
perate; they are accused, at least by their own historians, of
excessive drinking, an imputation long attached to their national
character.
Field Sports, Gabies and Diversions.—The sports of the field
are in different ages pursued with an uniformity almost per¬
manent. Hunting has ever been a favourite diversion both with
the English and Scots, and hawking has only been superseded
by the gun; but it was still practised with unabating ardour,
and cultivated scientifically as a liberal art. Treatises were
composed on the diet and discipline of the falcon; the genus was
discriminated like social life, and a species appropriated to every
intermediate rank, from an emperor down to a knave or a pea¬
sant ; nor were gentlemen more distinguished by the blazoning
of heraldry, than by particular hawks they were entitled to carry..
The long-bow was also employed in fowling, a sport in which
dexterity was requisite; but archery was a female amusement;
and it is recorded that Margaret, on her journey to Scotland,
killed a buck with an arrow in Alnwick park.
The preservation of the feathered game was enforced in the
present age by a statute, the first that was enacted of those laws
which have since accumulated into a code of oppression.
The Scottish monarchs hunted in the Highlands, sometimes
in a style of eastern magnificence. For the reception of
James V., the queen his mother, and the pope's ambassador,
the Earl of Athol constructed a palace, or bower of green
timber, interwoven with boughs, moated round, and provided
with turrets, portcullis, and drawbridge, and furnished within
with whatever was suitable for a royal abode. The hunting
continued for three days, during which, independent of roes,
wolves, and foxes, six hundred deer were captured; an in¬
credible number, unless that we suppose that a large district
Was surrounded, and the game driven into a narrow circle to be
slain, without fatigue, by the king and his retinue. On their
departure, the earl set fire to the palace, an honour that excited
the ambassador's surprise; but the king informed him it was
customary with Highlanders to burn those habitations they
10
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
deserted. The earl's hospitality was estimated at the daily ex¬
pense of a thousand pounds sterling.
During the present period, several games were invented or
practised to diffuse archery, for the promotion of which, bowls,
quoits, cayles, tennis, cards and dice, were prohibited by legis¬
lature as unlawful games. Tennis, however, was a royal pastime
in which Henry VIII., in his youth, delighted much; but the fa¬
vourite court amusements, next to tournaments, were masques
and pageants : the one an Italian diversion subservient to gal¬
lantry, the other a vehicle of gross adulation.
The diversions of people of rank continued much the same
for about five centuries after the Norman conquest. But in the
course of this period card playing was first introduced into
Britain.
Anno Domini 1400 ad A.D. 1548.—Civilization indeed had not
hitherto made such progress in England as entirely to abolish
slavery. Yet few land-owners or renters were to be found who
did not prefer the labour of free-men* to that of slaves. This
circumstance diminished their number, and the perpetual civil
contests enfranchised many, by putting arms in their hands.
W ithin a few years after the accession of the Tudors, slaves were
heard of no more.-}- Scotland was not so happy. The un¬
fortunate death of the Norwegian Margate, had involved the
realm in a long and bloody contest with its powerful neighbour;
* The value of free-men who would labour in agriculture was so well known,
that statutes were passed to prevent any person who had not twenty-shillings
a-year (equal to ten pounds sterling, modern money) from breeding up his chil¬
dren to any other occupation than that of husbandry. Nor could any one, who
had been employed in such work until twelve years of age, be permitted to turn
himself to any other vocation. Public Acts.'—'The condition of the slaves in
England was as completely wretched as the despot, who owned them, might
please to make. His goods were his master's, and on that account were free
from taxation; and whatever injuries he might sustain, he had no power to sue
.that master in any court of justice.
4 A reflection made at the close of the 15th century is the more remarkable
(by Philip de Comines) as it was given voluntarily, at the close of the longest
and most bloody civil war with which the English annals can be charged. " In
my opinion," (says the judicious observer quoted) "in all the countries in Europe
where I was even acquainted, the government is no where so well managed, the
people no where less obnoxious to violence and oppression, nor their houses less
liable to the desolations of war, than in England; for there the calamities fall
only upon the authors."
CIVILISATION.
11
and, although the gallant and free spirits of the Scots had pre¬
served the independence of their country, notwithstanding their
inferiority in numbers, wealth, and discipline, it could not prevent
the preponderance of a most odious and tyrannic aristocracy.
Perpetual domestic war loosened every tie of constitutional go¬
vernment ; and a Douglas,* a Crichton,-}- or a Donald of the
Isles,t by turns, exercised such despotism and inhumanity, as no
monarch in the fifteenth century would have dared to practise.
* Oppression, ravishing of women, theft, sacrilege, and all other kinds of mis.
chief, were hut dalliance. So that it was thought less on in a depender on a
Douglas to slay or murder; for so fearful was their name, and so terrible to
every innocent man, that when a mischevous limmer was apprehended, if he
alleged that he murdered and slew at a Douglas's command, no manAlurst
present him to justice. Lindsay of Pettscotie.
f In consequence of James I.'s opposition to the aristocracy, he was induced
to silence his ministers, officers, and counsellors, not from haughty nobles who
rivalled his power, but among the lower class of barons or private gentlemen
From these James selected accordingly several individuals of talent, application,
and knowledge of business, and employed their counsels and abilities in the
service of the state without regard to the displeasure of the great nobles, who
considered every office near the king's person as their own peculiar and patri¬
monial right, and who had in many instances converted such employments into
subjects of hereditary transmission. Among the able men whom James thus
called from comparative obscurity, the names of two statesmen appear, whom
he had selected from the ranks of the gentry, and raised to a high place in his
councils; these were Sir William Crichton the Chancellor, and Sir Alexander
Livingston of Calender; both men of ancient family, though descended from
Saxon ancestors; they did not number among the greater nobles who claimed
descent from Norman blood. Both, and more especially Crichton, possessed
talents of the first order, and were well calculated to serve the state. Unhappily
these two statesmen, on whom the power of a joint reigning devolved, were ene¬
mies to each other, probably from ancient rivalry ; and it was still more unfor¬
tunate that their talents were not united with corresponding virtues; tor they
both appear to have been alike ambitious, cruel, and unscrupulous politicians.
It is said by the Scots' Chronicles that, after the murder of the king, the
parliament assigned to Crichton, the chancellor, the administration of the king¬
dom, and to Livingston the care of the person of the young king.
t The Lords of the Isles, during the utter confusion which extended through
Scotland during the regency, had found it easy to reassume the independence
of which they had been deprived during the vigorous reign of Robert Bruce.
They possessed a fleet with which they harrassed the main land at pleasure;
and Donald, who now held that insular lordship, ranked himself among the allies,
of England and made peace and war as an independent sovereign. The Regent
had taken no steps to reduce that kinglet to obedience, and would probably have
avoided embarking in so arduous a task, had not Donald insisted upon preten¬
sions to the Earldom of Ross, occupying a great extent in die north-west of
Scotland, including the large isle of Sky, and laying adjacent to, and connected
with his own insular domains. The regent Albany, however, after the battle of
Marlow, compelled him to submit himself to the allegiance of Scotland, and to
12
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Jurisprudence.—The endeavours of the First and Second
James were turned towards improving the jurisprudence of the
country, by engrafting on it the best parts of the English system;
but the suddenness of their deaths and the weak reign of their
successor James III., prevented these people from receiving
much benefit from such laudable designs.
The parliament of Scotland at this period had nearly mono¬
polized all judicial authority. Three committees were formed
from the house (for there was only one) soon after the members
met. The first, like the ' Friars' in England, examined, approved,
or disapproved of petitions to the senate; the second constituted
the highest court in all criminal prosecutions, as did the third in
civil ones. And as every lord of parliament, who chose it, might
claim his place in each of these committees, almost the whole
administration of law, civil as well as military, resided in the
breast of the Scottish nobility. There was another court, that
of session, of which the members and the duration were ap¬
pointed by parliament.
The justiciary (an office discontinued in England as too potent)
was still nominally at the head of the Scottish law, and held
courts which were styled justiciares, as did the chamberlain,
chamberlainaires : from the courts there was allowed an ap¬
peal to a jurisdiction of great antiquity, styled, the Four Bour-
roughs' Court. This was formed of burgesses from Edinburgh,
and three other towns, who met at Haddington, to judge on such
appeals.
There was one abuse, however, which rendered every court
of justice nugatory! It had become a custom for the Scottish
monarchs to bestow on their favourites not only estates, but
powers and privileges equal to their own. These were styled
Lords of Regalities : they formed courts around them, had nume¬
rous officers of state, and tried, executed, or pardoned the greatest
criminals. The good sense of James II. prompted him to pro-
give hostages for his future obedience. " Donald," says Lindsay, " gathered a
company of mischievous cursed limmers, and invaded the king in every airth,
whenever he came, with great cruelty; neither sparing old nor young; without
regard to wives, or feeble or decrepit women; or young infants in the cradle,
which would have moved a heart of stone to commiseration; and burned villages,
towns, and corn I
JURISPRUDENCE.
13
pose a remedy for this inordinate evil; but two admirable laws
which he brought forward (the one against granting regalities,
without consent of parliament; the other to prohibit the bestow¬
ing of hereditary dignities) were after his decease neglected;
and Scotland continued two centuries longer a prey to the jar¬
ring interests of turbulent, traitorous noblemen.
Although every obstruction had occurred which ruinous
foreign wars, and still more detestable civil contentions, could
cause, some advantage in the interim had been gained to the
cause of general security. About the middle of the 16th cen¬
tury, the parliament appointed justices and sheriffs, in Ross,
Caithness, the Orkneys, and the Western Isles, where none
had been before, and appointed courts to he holden from time
to time, in very remote districts. There was need of this atten¬
tion if the preamble to the acts is to be credited, " Through
lack of justiciaries, justices, and sheriffs, by which the people
are become wild."* Public acts, James VI.
James V., who could sometimes exert a just and proper spirit,
sailed in 1535 from Leith, and examined in person how far
those wholesome regulations had been put in practice. He seized
and brought away some of the most turbulent chieftains, and
inspired the most ungovernable of his subjects with a decent
respect for the laws.
The parliaments were frequently and regularly called, par¬
ticularly by James IV. and V. Every thing which the nation
could afford was granted by the house (for it was but single,
the scheme which James I. had planned, of forming two cham¬
bers, having unhappily miscarried), and all possible care was
there taken, that the king should not alienate the demesnes of
the crown. In some instances this branch of the legislative ap¬
pears to have trenched upon the royal prerogative,f and even
to have assumed the executive power.
* " Justice," says Pennant, " was administered with great expedition, and
too often with vindictive severity. Originally the time of trial and execution
was to be within' three suns.' About the latter end of the seventeenth century,
the period was extended to nine days after the sentence; hut since a rapid
and unjust execution in a petty Scottish town in 1720, the execution has beer,
ordered to he deferred for forty days on the south, and sixty on the north side
of the Tay, that time may be allowed for an application for mercy."
-J- As in 1503, when an act was passed for prohibiting the king from par¬
doning those convicted of wilful and premeditated murder; hut this appears
14
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
It is certain (as has been remarked by a well-informed his¬
torian) that this mixture of liberality and of caution in the
Scottish representatives, at the same time that it maintained
their kings in decent magnificence by the revenues of the crown
lands, " prevented the subjects from being harrassed by loans,
benevolences, and other oppressive acts, which were so often
employed by the powers of Europe, their contemporaries." Yet
as the government had very seldom sufficient strength to guard
the unarmed members of society from assassination and pillage,
arrayed under the banners of a factious nobleman, it may be
doubted, whether the extortion and despotism of a Seventh or
Eighth Henry, might not be more tolerable than the domestic
tyranny* and murderous ravages committed by the satellites of
a Douglas, a Home,f a Sinclair, or of a Hamilton.
Morals, Manners, &c.—As regards moral habits, the English
generally were still brave, humane, and (at least among each
other) hospitable. That their priests and monkst were luxurious
to have been done at the monarch's own request, and was liable to be rescinded
at his pleasure. James IV., Act 97.
* It appears that each great man had his courts, held by power delegated
from the crown, "with a soc sac (a pit for drowning some offenders, particularly
women), pit, and gallows, toill and paine, in-fang thief; he had power to hold
courts for slaughter and doe upon ane man that is seized therewith in hand
havand, or in back bearand."
f The Homes were intrepid border chiefs, and their affrays were often taunted
with that prevalent species of ferocity which characterised the times. Anthony
d'Arcy, Seigneur de la Bastie, a French knight of great courage and fame, had
been left by the regent (Albany) in the important situation of warden of the
eastern marshes, and had taken up the duties of the office with a strict hand.
But Home of Wedderburn, a powerful chief of the name, could not brook that
an office usually held by the head of his house, should be lodged in the hands
of a foreigner dependent on the regent, by whom Lord Home had been put to
death. Eager for revenge, the border chieftain waylaid the new warden with
an ambuscade of armed men. Seeing himself beset, the unfortunate d'Arcy en¬
deavoured to gain the castle of Dunbar; but having run his horse into a morass
near Dunse, he was overtaken and slain. Home khitted the head of his victim
to his saddle-bow by the long locks, which had been so much admired in courtly
assemblies, and placed it on the ramparts of Home castle, as a pledge of the
vengeance exacted for the death of the late lord of that fortress.
$ The monks in rich monasteries lived more luxuriously than any order of
men in the kingdom. The office of chief cook was one of the greatest offices in
these monasteries, and was conferred, with great impartiality, on that brother
who had studied the art of cookery with most success. The historian of Croy-
land Abbey speaks highly in praise of brother Lawrence Charteres, the cook of
MORALS, MANNERS.
15
and gluttonous, is known from their own prelates; and that
their profligacy exceeded the usual natural bounds of licentious¬
ness, we are but too well assured by the report of the visitation
under Cromwell: but the faults of a singularly depraved and
pampered race ought not to be laid to the door of a whole na¬
tion.. The lower orders of the community were exceedingly
ignorant; and as little attention was shown to instruct them in
the religious duties of life, they repaid the neglect by plunder¬
ing their superiors. But although twenty-two thousand persons
are said to have been executed chiefly for theft, in the time of
Henry VIII., yet was murder almost entirely unknown, and
England might, in the 16th century, proudly vaunt, that the
taking away life in cold blood, at least without some legal colour
of justice, was a practice almost unknown within her limits.
An unhappy species of political rivalry, wherein each head of
a party found it necessary to support its adherents in rapine and
murder, lest he should be deserted by all, prevents the eulogy
from being extended at this period to Scotland, wherein the
example of the Douglas family, of the house of Hamilton, and
many gallant but ferocious warriors, too plainly showed that it
was possible to unite in the same person intrepid bravery
against the foreign foe and inexorable cruelty of the defenceless
neighbour.
The peace of the kingdom at this period was disturbed by the
constant dissension kept up betwixt the parties of Hamilton and
Douglas ; that is, between the Earls of Angus and Arran. They
used arms against each other without hesitation. At length
(Jan. 1520) a parliament being called at Edinburgh, the Earl
of Angus appeared with four hundred of his followers armed
with spears. The Hamiltons, not less eager and similarly pre-
that monastery, who, prompted by the love of God and zeal of religion, had
given £40 (a sum equivalent to £400 now) " for the recreation of the convent
with the milk of almonds on fast days." He also gives us a long statute that
was made for the equitable distribution of this almond milk, with the finest
bread and best honey. Nor were the secular clergy more hostile to the pleasures
of the table ; and some of them contrived to convert gluttony and drunkenness
into religious ceremonies by the celebration of glutton-masses, as they very pro¬
perly called them. These were celebrated five times a year, in honour of the
Virgin Mary; and the bone of contention was, who should devour, the greatest
quantities of meat and drink to her honour.
16
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
pared for strife, repaired to the capital in equal or superior
numbers. They assembled in the house of the Chancellor
Beaton, the ambitious Archbishop of Glasgow, who was bound
to the faction of Arran by that nobleman having married the
niece of the prelate. Gawin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, a
son of Earl Bell-the-cat, and the celebrated translator of Virgil,
laboured to prevent the factions from coming to blows. He ap¬
plied to Beaton himself, as official conservator of the laws and
peace of the realm. Beaton laying his hand on his heart, pro¬
tested upon his conscience he could not help the affray which was
about to take place. "Ah! my lord," exclaimed the advocate
for peace, who heard a shirt of mail rattle under the bishop's
rochet, " methinks your conscience clatters." The Bishop of
Dunkeld then had recourse to Sir Patrick Hamilton, brother to
the Earl of Arran, who willingly attempted to exhort his kinsman
to keep the peace, until he was rudely upbraided with reluctance
to fight by Sir James Hamilton, natural son to his brother, and
a man of fierce and sanguinary disposition. "False bastard!"
exclaimed Sir Patrick, in a rage, " I will fight to-day where
thou darest not be seen." All thoughts of peace had now
vanished; and the Hamiltons, with their friends and adherents,
rushed furiously up the lanes which lead from the Cow-gate,
where the bishop's palace was situated, with the view of taking
possession of the High-street. But the Douglas party had been
beforehand with them, and already occupied the principal
street, with the advantage of attacking their enemies as they
issued in disorder from the narrow lanes. Those of Angus's
followers who were not armed, were supplied with lances by the
favour of the citizens of Edinburgh, who handed them through
their windows. These long weapons considerably added to
the advantages of the Douglasses over their enemies; and ren¬
dered it easy to bear them down, as they struggled breathless
and disordered out of the heads of the lanes. This was not the
only piece of good fortune which attended Angus on the oc¬
casion; for Home of Wedderburn, also a great adherent of the
Douglasses, arrived on the spot while the conflict was yet raging,
and, darting through the Netherbow gate at the head of his for¬
midable Borderers, appeared in the street in a decisive moment.
The Hamiltons took to flight, leaving seventy killed behind them,
MORALS, MANNERS.
17
one of whom was Sir Patrick Hamilton, the peace-maker, who
had vainly attempted to prevent this sanguinary and disgrace¬
ful rencontre.
The Earl of Arran and his natural son were in such im¬
minent danger, that, in their flight meeting a collier's horse,
they were glad to throw off its burthen, and both mounting the
same steed, they escaped through a ford in the lock which then
defended the northern side of the city. The consequences ol
this skirmish, which, according to the humour of the age, was
long remembered under the name of " cleanse the causeway,"
raised Angus in a little time to the head of affairs.
Towards the 16th century, the manners of the English became
more humane than those of their ancestors had been, whom
continual warfare and an eager thirst for conquest and spoil had
united to render ungentle and tremendous. Their exercises,
sports, and passion for feasting, we have mentioned in another
place. Dancing round the maypole, and riding the hobby¬
horse, were favourite country sports: but these suffered a severe
check at the reformation,, as did the humorous pageant of
Christmas, personified by an old man hung round with savoury
dainties.
There is reason to think that gaming was a favourite amuse¬
ment of the Scots in the sixteenth century. Sir David Lindsay, in
a tragedy, makes Cardinal Beaton declare, that he had played
with the king for 3,000 crowns of gold in one night, " at cards
and diceand an anonymous bard (cited by the historian of
English poetry) avers, that
Halking, hunting, and swift horse rynning
Are changit in all his wrangus wynnin :
There is no play hot 'cartes and dice.'
As to the tables of the Scots, no particular remark occurs,
unless it be, that two national dishes (still cherished at the
plentiful tables in the north) made in the sixteenth century a
part of the usual meal. Hospitality from one end of the island,
seems to have been especially harboured at religious houses;
and if the monk or ' holy friar' was, to a proverb, fond of good
living, jollity, and conviviality, he was not backward in im¬
parting a share of his dainties to the benighted or wandering
•2
18
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
stranger. The Scots afford, at this period, no material for any
particular observation on their dress. The ladies, in spite of a
legal ordinance, " that no woman cum to the kirk nor mercat
with her face muffalit," appear by the declamations of their con¬
temporary poets to have continued to use the fashion which
they thought most becoming.
The Field of Stirling.—Never was any race of monarchs
more unfortunate than the Scottish; their reigns were generally
turbulent and disastrous, and their own end often tragical. Ac¬
cording to fabulous authors, more than one hundred had reigned
before James VI., the half of whom died by violence; and of six
successive princes, the immediate predecessors of that monarch,
not one died a natural death. James III. came to an untimely
end in Stirlingshire.
A misunderstanding subsisted between this prince and several
of the chief nobility, during a great part of his reign; a minute
investigation of the various causes of which, would be foreign
to our purpose. James did not possess those talents for govern¬
ment which had distinguished several of his predecessors; for,
though some wise and useful regulators were established in his
reign, and his errors have no doubt been much exaggerated by
faction, yet it cannot be denied that marks of an imprudent and
feeble mind are visible in the general turn of his conduct.
A natural timidity of temper, together with a foolish attention
to astrology, filled his mind with perpetual jealousy and suspi¬
cion ; a fondness for architecture, music, and other studies and
amusements, which, though innocent and useful, were too trifling
to engage the whole care and time of one who held a sceptre
over a fierce and turbulent people, rendered him averse to
public business. Indolence and want of penetration led him to
make choice of ministers and favourites who were not alwavs
the best qualified for the trust committed to them. The ministers
01 state had usually been chosen from amongst the nobility; but
in the reign of James, the nobles, either from fear or hatred of
them, or from a consciousness of his own inability to maintain
his dignity among them, were seldom consulted in affairs of
government, and often denied access to the royal presence.
This could not fail to excite the displeasure of the Scottish
barons, who were naturally haughty, and who, in former reigns,
THE FIELD OF STIRLING.
19
had not only been regarded as the companions and counsellors
of their sovereigns, but had possessed all the great offices of
power and trust. Their displeasure arose to indignation when
they beheld every mark of the royal confidence and favour con¬
ferred upon persons of mean rank, such as, Cochran, a mason;
Hemonel, a tailor; Leonard, a smith; Rogers, a musician; and
Torfifan, a fencing-master; whom James always kept about him,
caressed with the fondest affection, and endeavoured to enrich
with an imprudent liberality.
To redress this grievance, the barons had recourse to a me¬
thod altogether characteristic of that ferocity which had always
distinguished them. Unacquainted with the slow and regular
method adopted in modern times, of proceeding against royal
favourites and evil counsellors, by impeachment, they seized
upon those of James by violence, tore them from his presence,
and, without any form of trial, executed them with a military
despatch and rigour. So gross an insult could not but excite
some degree of resentment, even in the most calm and gentle
breast; but true policy would have suggested to a wise prince,
as soon as the first impulse of passion was over, the necessity of
relinquishing a behaviour which had given so great offence to
subjects so powerful as the Scottish barons were at that time;
for their power was become so predominant by a concurrence
of other causes, beside the nature of the feudal constitution,
that the combination of a few of them was able to shake the
throne. The attachment of James to favourites was, notwith¬
standing, so immoderate, that he soon made choice of new ones,
who became more assuming than the former, and consequently
objects of greater detestation to many of the barons, especially
those who, by their near residence to the court, had frequent
opportunities of beholding their ostentation and insolence.
At length matters came to an open rupture; a party of the
nobility, after a series of combinations amongst themselves, took
to arms; and having, either by persuasion or force, prevailed
upon the Duke of llothsay, the king's eldest son, a youth of
fifteen, to join them, they, in his name, erected their standard
against their sovereign, who, roused by the intelligence "of such
operations, quitted his retirement and also took the field. An
accommodation at first took place ; but upon what terms is not
known. The transactions of the latter part arc variously stated
'2*
20
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
by historians, and but darkly by the best. Those who lived
nearest the time, and had opportunities of information, probably
found that they could not be explicit without being obliged to
throw reflexions upon either the father or the son; and, there¬
fore, saw it prudent to be upon the reserve. Some affirm that
the malecontents proposed, that James should resign his crown
on behalf of his son; but this accommodation, whatever the
articles were, as it appears to have been attended with no
mutual confidence, was of very short duration. New occasions
of discord soon arose : the malecontents asserted that James had
not fulfilled his part of the treaty ; but ignorance of the articles
thereof renders us unable to form any other opinion concerning
the truth of this change. It is certain, however, that the con¬
federacy began now to spread wider than ever, so as to com¬
prehend almost all the barons, and consequently all their
military tenants and retainers upon the south side of the Gram¬
pian mountains.
Hostilities were first commenced by the malecontents, who
seized upon the castle of Dunbar, and applied to their own use
the arms and ammunition that were found in it. James was at
that time in the castle of Edinburgh, in which, as a place of
safety, he had shut himself up, till, by the arrival of his northern
subjects whom he had summoned to his assistance, he should be
in a condition to take the field; but as Stirling was more con¬
venient for the rendezvous of the northern clans, he was advised
to go thither. Upon his arrival he was denied access into the
castle by James Shaw, the governor, who favoured the other
party : and while he was deliberating which step to take upon
this unexpected incident, intelligence was brought that the dis¬
affected lords, at the head of a considerable army, had advanced
to the Torwood within a few miles of him. The only alternative
was, either to make his escape by going aboard Admiral Wood's
fleet, which was stationed in the river Forth, near Alloa, or to
engage the enemy with what forces he had. Though not distin¬
guished for courage, he resolved upon the latter, and prepared
for battle.
The two armies met on a tract of ground which goes by the
name of the Little Canglar, upon the east side of a small brook
called Sauchieburn, about three miles southward from Stirling,
and one mile from the famous field of Bannockburn. The royal
THE FIELD OF STIRLING.
•21
army was drawn up in three lines; but historians differ as to
their number, and the leaders under whom they were arranged;
some, beyond all probability, making them amount to thirty
thousand. Nor is it agreed in what part the king had his sta¬
tion; only we are told that he was armed cap-h-pie, and
mounted on a stately horse, which had been presented to him by
David Lindsay, of Byres, who informed his majesty that he
might, at any time, trust his life to his agility and surefootedness.
The army of the mal eContents was likewise ranged in three di¬
visions : the first, which was composed of East Lothian and
Merse men, was commanded by the Lords Hume and Hailes,
whose discontentent arose from the king's annexing to his royal
chapel, at Stirling, the revenues of the priory of Coldingham,
to the disposal of which they pretended a right; the second
line, which was made up of the inhabitants of Galloway and the
shires upon the borders, was led by Lord Gray; the prince had
the name of commanding what was called the main body, but
was entirely under the direction of the lords about him. Showers
of arrows from both sides began the action, but they soon came
to a closer engagement with lances and swords. The royalists
at lirst gained an advantage, and drove the first line of the
enemy; but these, being soon supported by the Borderers, who
composed the second line, not only recovered their ground, but
pushed the first and second lines of the royalists back to the
third.
The small courage James possessed forsaking him at the first
onset, he put spurs to his horse, and galloped off with a view to
get aboard Wood's ship, which lay in sight at the distance of
five miles; at least from the route he took, this is supposed to
have been his intention. As he was crossing the brook of Ban-
nockburn, at the small village of Meltown, about a mile to the
east of the field of battle, a woman was drawing water at the
brook; observing a man in armour, gallopping full speed to¬
wards her, she left her pitcher and ran off, afraid of being rode
down. The horse starting at the sight of the pitcher, threw the
king, who was so bruised with the fall and the weight of his
armour, that he fainted away. This disaster happening within
a few yards of a mill, from which the village derives its name,
the miller and his wife carried him into the mill, and, though
ignorant of his name and station, treated liirn with great hu-
22
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
raanity, administering to him such cordials as their house could
afford.
When the king had recovered a little, he called for a priest, to
whom, as a dying man, he might make a confession; and those
about him demanding who he was, he replied, " I was your king
this morning." By this time some of the malecontents, who, hav¬
ing observed the king's flight, had left the battle to pursue him,
were come up to the place; and, as they were passing, the
miller's wife clapping her hands with astonishment and grief
called out, that if there was any priest among them he would
instantly stop and confess the king. " I am a priest," said one of
them, " lead me to his majesty." This person being brought in, he
found the king lying in the corner of the mill, covered with a coarse
cloth ; and approaching him upon his knees, under pretence of
respect, while treachery filled his heart, asked him if he thought
he could recover if he had the proper help of physicians ? James
answering in the affirmative, the ruffian pulled out a dagger, and
stabbed him several times through the heart.
The name of the person who committed this atrocious deed
is certainly not known; nor would the discovery add much to the
stock of historical knowledge. The place where it was com¬
mitted is well known, in that neighbourhood, by the name of
Beaton's mill, said to be so called from the person who at that
time possessed it. It is yet standing, though now converted into
a dwelling-house, new and more commodious mills having been
erected near. The lower part of its walls are still the same which
received the unfortunate James; the upper part of them have
been renewed; and the reparation which it seems to have un¬
dergone appears to have had no other design than to perpetuate
the memory of this tragical event, the circumstances of which
have been so carefully handed down by tradition, that they are
still related by the elderly inhabitants of the village, and perfectly
correspond to the accounts which we meet with in the best his¬
torians.
After the king's flight, his troops continued to light with great
bravery; but an uncertain rumour of his death being brought,
they began to retreat towards Stirling. They were not, how¬
ever, pursued, for all hostilities immediately ceased. The army
of the confederates lay that night upon the lield, and next day
marched back to Linlithgow. The number of the slain upon
THE FIELD OF STIRLING.
23
both sides is uncertain, though it must have been considerable ;
for the action lasted a good space, and was well maintained by
the combatants on each side; several of high rank fell upon the
side of the royalists, among whom were the Earl of Glencairn,
the Lords Temple, Erskine, and Ruthven.*
When the prince, who before the battle had given a strict
charge about the safety of his father's person, heard the rumour
of his death, he was deeply affected. It was not, however, till
some days after the battle that he obtained the certainty of his
father's death; for, if any of the confederate Lords were in the
secret, they kept it carefully from the prince; and from the rest
a report was spread, that the king had gone aboard Wood's
fleet, and was still alive; but the admiral being called before the
young king and the council, declared that he knew nothing of
his late master. So little had the prince been accustomed to
his father's company, that he was almost a stranger to his person;
for, when Wood appeared before him, struck with his stately
appearance, or perhaps with some resemblance he bore to the
late king, he serenely asked him, " Sir, are you my father ? " to
which the admiral, bursting into tears, replied, " I am not your
father, but I was your father's true servant."
At last the body of the king was discovered, and carried to
the palace in Stirling castle, where it lay till it was interred with
* The ancient house of Ruthven, once the seat of the unfortunate Gowries,
consists of two square towers, built at different times, and distinct from each
other; but now joined by buildings of later date- The top of one of the towers
is called Maiden's leap, receiving its name on the following occasion: a daughter
of the first Earl of Gowrie was addressed by a young gentleman of interior
rank in the neighbourhood, a frequent visitor of the family, who would never
give the least countenance to his passion. His lodging was in the tower, se¬
parate from that of his mistress—
Sed vetuere patres quod non potuere vetare.
The lady, before the doors were shut, conveyed herself into her lover's apart¬
ment; but some prying duenna acquainted the countess with it: who cutting
off, as she thought, all possibility of retreat, hastened to surprise them. The
young lady's ears were quick; she heard the footsteps of the old countess, ran
to the top of the leads, and took the desperate leap of nine feet four inches over
a chasm of sixty feet, and luckily lighting on the battlements of the other tower
crept into her own bed, where her astonished mother found her, and of course
apologised for the unjust suspicion. The fair daughter did not choose to repeat
the leap; but the next night eloped and was married.
<24
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
all due honour in the burial place of Cambus-Kenneth, near to
that of his queen, who had died not long before. The inhabitants
of that place still pretend to show a spot in which a king and
a queen are buried; but no monument is to be seen. The
battle was fougiit on the 11th of June, 1488, and was called the
Field of Stirling.
The confederate lords endeavoured to atone for their treat¬
ment of their late sovereign, by their loyalty and duty towards
the son, whom they placed instantly upon the throne, and the
whole kingdom soon united in acknowledging his authority.
As a penance, for the unnatural part he had acted towards his
father, the monarch, according to the superstitious notions of
those times, ever after wore an iron girdle upon his body, to
which a link was added every year, till it became very pon¬
derous.
The party who had taken arms against their late sovereign
deemed it also requisite, for their future security, to have a par¬
liamentary indemnity for these proceedings. Accordingly, in a
parliament that met soon after, they obtained a vote, by which
all that had been done in the Field of Stirling was justified and
declared to have been lawful, on account of the necessity they
lay under of employing force against the king's evil counsellors,
the enemies of the kingdom. This vote, in law books, is called
the proposition of the debate of the Field of Stirling.
Notes of Scottish Affairs, from the year 1680 to 1701.—
The following memoranda, which tend to connect our subjects,
may serve for notes to the history of a period as well known as
any in the annals of Britain—or as characteristic facts of the
manners of the age—are extracted from Lord Fountainhall's
diary, a very limited edition (120 copies) of which was only
printed. The original manuscript of the volume is preserved
in the Advocate's Library at Edinburgh. It is merely necessary
to observe, that the author (Sir John Lander, a distinguished
judge in the court of session, called in courtesy to that station
Lord Fountainhall) was a constant, close, and singularly im¬
partial observer of the remarkable events of his time; and while
his rank and character gave him access to the best information,
he displayed much shrewdness in digesting it.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS, FROM 1680 TO 1701. 25
" The Duke of York took leave of his brother, King Charles
II., the 20th of October, 1G80, at Woolwich on the Thames,
and after a great storm landed at Kirkaldie, the 2Gth ditto, with
his Duchess. There, after he went to Leslie till the 20th ditto,
frae thence to Holyrood House, thence went and saw Edinburgh
Castle, where the great canon called Monns Meg being charged,
burst in her off going, which was taken as a bad omen.
" A Mr. William Wishart, minister at Wells in Annan, turned
papist.
" It is observed in England, that in the space of twenty
years, the English changed oftener their religion than all Chris¬
tendom had for 150 years; for they made four mutations from
1540 to 1560. King Henry the Eighth abolished the Pope's
supremacy, suppressed abbeys, but retained the bulk of the
popish religion; his son, King Edward, brings in the protestant
religion ; Queen Mary throws it out; but Queen Elizabeth brings
it in again."
" The presbyterian lampoons upbraided Paterson, Bishop of
Edinburgh, as a profligate and loose liver. See the answer
to presbyterian eloquence, where there is much ribaldry on
this subject. He is said to have kissed the band-strings in
the pulpit, in the midst of an eloquent discourse, which was
the signal agreed upon betwixt him and a lady to whom he
was a suitor, to show he could think upon her charms even
whilst engaged in the most solemn duties of his profession,
Hence he was nicknamed Bishop Bandstrings."
The state of parties in Scotland, the clashing of personal
and political interests; the barbarous tortures, and the executions
of their opponents as the different sides prevailed; the ramifi¬
cations of the Ryehouse plot in this country; the conflicts of
episcopacy, presbyterian ism and popery; besides private concerns,
form many of the illustrative paragraphs of our miscellaneous
record. For example, in 1684, we have
"Mr. Hunter, second minister of Stirhng, staged for drun¬
kenness, in spewing after he had taken the sacrament. Kennedy ,
provost of Stirling, and Mr. Munro, the first minister, were his
26
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
accusers, 6th of April, 1684. He after turned a buckle-beggar,
and was suspended if not deprived by the bishop therefore; and
married in his old age, a daughter of Anne Stevenson, a
gardener at Habaye Hall."
Torture of the Boots and Thumbiken.—" Mr. William Spence,
late servant to Argyle, is tortured by boots, to force him to
reveal what he knows of the earle's and others' accession to the
late English fanatic, Piatt, and a design of rebellion; and in
regard that he refused to depose if he had the key whereby he
could read some letters of the earle's, produced by Major
Holmes, in cypher; and seeing that he would not depose that
he could not read them, and that they offered him a remission,
it rendered him very obnoxious, and suspect of prevarication;
so that after the torture he was put in General Dalyell's hands;
and it was reported, that by a hair short and pricking (as the
witches are used) he was five nights kept frae sleep, till turned
half distracted; but he eat very little, on purpose that he might
require less sleep; yet never discovered any thing." 26th July,
and following days.
" Mr. Spence, Argyle's servant, is again tortured with the
thumbikens, a new invention, and discovered by Generals Dal-
yell and Drummond, who saw them used in Muscovy; and
when he heard they were to put him in boots again, being
frightened therewith, desired time, and he would declare what
he knew; whereupon they gave him some time, and sequestrat
him in Edinburgh Castle, 6th August, 1684."
" Mr. William Spence, to avoid further torture, dcsyphered
Argyle's letters, and agrees with Holmes's declaration, that
Argyle and Loudon, Dalrympie of Stains, Sir John Cochran,
and others, had formed design to raise rebellion in Scotland ;
and that there were three keys to the said letters, whereof Mr.
Carstairs had two, and Holmes a third; and he approved of
Gray of Crichie, after Lord Gray, his explanation of the said
letters; and Campbell of Arkanlass was apprehended by the
laird of M'Naughten. Spence got the liberty of the castle, and
recommended for a remission. And Gordon of Earlsion was
sent for from the Bass, to be tortured and confronted with
Spence, and the council resolved not to admit of his madness
TORTURE.
27
for ane excuse (which they esteemed simulat), as Chancellor
Gordon had done, August 22."
"Mr. William Carstairs, son of Mr. John Carstairs, minister
of Glasgow, brought before the secret committee of council, and
tortured with the thumbikens, whereon he confessed, there had
been a current plot in Scotland for ten years, and that some
were for rising in rebellion, other for associating with the English
for keeping out [the] Duke of York, and to preserve [the] pro-
testant religion."—
We here stop our extracts from the Fountainhall Diary, to
make some observations relative to the introduction and the use
made of the instrument of torture called the thumbikens.
In Scotland, where torture continued to be employed long
after it was abandoned in England, there were two modes
chiefly in use: the torture of the boots, and that of the thum¬
bikens above alluded to. The exquisite picture of the torturing
ofMacbriar, in the "Tales of my Landlord,"* lias made every
one acquainted with the cruel process employed in the torture of
the boots. We have collected some few particulars regarding
its origin and employment in this country.
The thumbikens, as the name imports, was an instrument
applied to the thumbs, in such a manner as to enable the execu¬
tioner to squeeze them violently; and (his was often done with
so much force as to bruise the thumb-bones, and swell the arms
of the sufferer up to his shoulders. The thumbikens used in
torturing principal Carstares, was an iron instrument fastened
to a table with a screw, the upper part of the instrument being
squeezed down upon the thumbs by means of another screw,
which the executioner pressed at the command of his em¬
ployers.
The torture of the boots occurs at an earlier period of our
history than that of the thumbikens ; and is mentioned in con¬
junction w ith some other torturing instrument, of which we have
not been able to find any description in the writings of our an¬
tiquaries. Thus we read, that in 1590, the son and daughter
of Aleson Balfour, who was accused of witchcraft, were tortured
* 1 he materials of this picture are evidently drawn from the account given
by Wodrovv of the torturing of Mitchel/pn the first volume of his history.— Vide
Old Mortality, p. 509.
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
before her to make her confess her crime in the manner fol¬
lowing : " Her son was put in the buits, where he suffered fifty-
seven strokes; and her daughter about seven years old, was put
in the pilniewinks/' In the same case, mention is made, be¬
sides pilniewinks, pinniewinks, or pilliwinks, of caspitanos or
caspicaws, and of tosots, as instruments of torture/ Lord
Royston, in his manuscript notes upon Mackenzie's criminal
law, conjectures that these may have been only other names for
the buits and thumbikens ;f thus much seems certain, that in
those times there was some torturing device applied to the
fingers which bore the name of pilniewinks but it will im¬
mediately appear, that the most authentic accounts assign the
introduction and use of the instrument known by the name of
thumbikens to a much later period.
" It has been very generally asserted," says Dr. Jamieson,
" that part of the cargo of the invincible Armada was a large
assortment of thumbikens, which it was meant should be em¬
ployed as powerful arguments for convincing the heretics."
The country of the Inquisition was certainly a fit quarter from
whence to derive so congenial an instrument; but other accounts,
as we have said, and these apparently unquestionable, assign
it a later introduction, and from a quarter and by means of
agents very well fitted for the production and importation of
such a commodity. In the torturing of Spence, Lord Foun-
tainhall mentions the origin of the thumbikens, stating that this
instrument " was a new invention used among the colliers upon
transgressors, and discovered by Generals Daly ell and Drum-
mond, they having seen them used in Muscovy."
The account which Bishop Burnet gives of the torturing of
Spence confirms the then recent use of the thumbikens.
" Spence," says he, " was struck in the boots, and continued
firm. Then a new species of torture was invented ; he was kept
from sleep eight or nine nights. They grew weary of managing
this; so a third species was invented; little screws of steel were
made use of, that screwed the thumbs with so exquisite a tor-
* Maclaurin's Criminal Cases, Introduct, p. 35.
-f Quoted by Maclaurinj ibid, p. 36.
^ See News from Scotland, declaring the damnable Life of Dr. Fian, a noted
sorcerer, who was burned at Edinburgh in January, 1591.
** Decisions, vol. I. pp. 299, 300.
TORTURE.
20
ture that he sunk under it." This point we think is put beyond
all doubt by the following act of the Privy Council in 1684,
quoted in Wodrow's invaluable History: " Whereas there is
now a new invention and engine called the thumbikens, which
will be very effectual to the intent and purpose aforesaid (i. e.
to expiscate matters relating to the government), the Lords of
his Majesty's Council do therefore ordain, that when any person
shall by their order be put to the torture, that the boots and
thumbikens both be applied to them, as it shall be found fit and
convenient.*
Thus, then, it seems clear that the thumbikens, whether im¬
ported from abroad or invented at home, was a mode of tor¬
ture which had been only recently introduced, at the frightful
period to which we have just been referring; period well fitted
either for the reception or the production of any new device
calculated to extend the outrages of power over its unhappy
victims. This being the case, we see no good reason for not
going a step farther, and taking the account of its introduction
from Lord Fountainhall. It was upon the persecuted presby-
terians that this species of torture was first inflicted ; and who
among all their persecutors was more likely to enhance their
sufferings by any new device, than the ruthless commanders
whom this judge, their contemporary, points out as its authors ?
It was during this atrocious persecution, when every right
and feeling of humanity were trampled under foot with a degree
of wantonness and barbarity unparalleled in the annals of any-
other country, that the use of the torture reached its height.
"To so great an extent," says Mr. Hume, in his Commentaries
on the Criminal Law, " was this iniquity carried in those days,
that confessions obtained in this way were made use of as an
evidence in modum adminiculi, towards the conviction even
of third parties; the confessor of William Carstares, for instance,
against Baillie or Jerviswoodf'j- Every one at all acquainted
* History of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland, -vol. II. p. 347.
-j- See Hume's Commentaries, vol. II. c. 12. Nothing can more clearly show
the darkness of men's minds in those dire times, as to the plainest principles of
justice and evidence, than the following passage of Lord Fountainhall: "Some
doubted how far testimonies extorted per torturam could be probative against
third parties, seeing witnesses should be so far voluntary and spontaneous, as to
be under no terror of life and limb ; but others judged them best to be credited
then." Decisions, vol I. p. 302.
30
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
with Scottish history must know, that Mr. Carstares, afterwards
principal* of the University of Edinburgh, was deeply concerned
in those unfortunate transactions which brought Argyll to the
scaffold in Scotland, and Russel and Sydney in England. He
was seized in England, and being sent to Scotland was, on the
5th of September, 1684, tortured with the thumbikens before
the Committee of the Privy Council, in order to force him to
reveal the names of the associates. An hour and a half of this
cruel operation, during which the sweat streamed from his face,
and some cries of agony were extorted, did not, however, render
him subservient to the wishes of his inhuman tormentors, among
whom the Earl of Perth, true to the infamy and atrocity of his
character, stood conspicuous; urging the executioner to press
the screws, while the Duke of Ilamiiton-j- and the Earl of Queens-
bury left the room, unable any longer to witness the .revolting
spectacle. It was this same miscreant Perth, who some time
before, at the trial of Sir Hugh Campbell for rebellion, en¬
deavoured in his then capacity of Justice general, to urge on
and lead a suborned witness who was unable to say any thing
against the prisoner, till he, the Justice general, was stopped by
the jury; and this because he had obtained a promise of Sir
Hugh's estate for his brother, provided Sir Hugh should be con¬
demned. Burnet tells us (vol. II. p. 249), that the Duke of York
when in Scotland had been to behold the sufferings of those
tortured before him, "with unmoved indifference, and with
an attention as if he had been to look on some curious expe¬
riment." Carstares, we have said, did not utter any confession
when under the hands of the arch-inquisitor, though the pas¬
sage quoted above from Mr. Hume's Commentaries might lead
tbe reader to that conclusion; as would also the first notice of
his case by Lord Eountainhall (vol I. p. 300). It appears he
was afterwards prevailed upon to give some information re¬
specting Baillie of Jerviswood and others, under an express
stipulation that he should not be brought forward as a witness,
* Sometimes jocularly called Cardinal Carstares.
f "The Duke of Hamilton opposed torturings, alleging, at this rate they
might, without accusers or witnesses, take any person off the street and torture :
and he retired and refused to be present, on this ground, that if the party should
die in the torture, the judges were liable for murder, or at least severely an¬
swerable."—FountainhalVs Chronological Notes.
TORTURE.
31
and that no use should be made of his communications at their
trial; but no faith was kept with him in this respect; and his
declaration so obtained was, as Mr. Humes states, admitted as
an adminicle of evidence in the shameful trial and condemnation
of Mr. Baillie.
It would appear from Lord Fountainhall, that the new torture
of the thumbikens was looked upon as extremely cruel; and he
adds that the Privy Council would have "contracted some task"
by the frequent use of it at this time, had they not succeeded
therein, by extorting some confessions. He mentions, too, that
in some of these successful cases it had proved its efficiency over
the boots, because tried upon persons having small legs.
After the revolution, the Privy Council of Scotland presented
Mr. Carstares with the identical thumbikens with which he had
been tortured in 1684.* This curious relic is, we are informed,
still preserved by Mr. Dunlop, Banker in Greenock, grand
nephew of the same Mr. Carstares.
There is an anecdote handed down among the descendants of
Mr. Carstares, in regard to this instrument, which we shall copy
here, as we find it narrated in the fifth volume of " the Statistical
Account of Scotland." " I have heard, principal," said King Wil¬
liam to him, when he waited on his majesty after the revolution,
" that you were tortured with something they call thumbikens ;
pray what sort of instrument of torture is it ?"—" I will show
it you," replied Carstares, " the next time I have the honour to
wait on your majesty." The principal was as good as his
word.—" I must try them," said the King! " I must put in my
thumbs here—now, principal, turn the screw.—O, not so gently
—another turn—another.—Stop! stop! no more; another turn,
I'm afraid, would make me confess anything."
What share of truth there may be in this story we know not;
but whatever King William's personal opinion of the use of the
torture may have been, this much is certain, that there is one
case recorded in the proceedings of the Privy Council of Scotland
which shows that the thumbikens were employed under the
sanction of his sign manual, in the year 1690. This was in the
case of Neville Pain or Payne, the person to whom George
Duke of Buckingham addressed his Essay upon Reason and
* M'Cormick's Life of Carstares.
32
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Religion. He was accused of having gone to Scotland to pro¬
mote a jacobite plot, and was, in consequence of the King's
warrant, already mentioned, " put to the torture of the thumbi-
kens," but without making any disclosure.* This was, we be¬
lieve, the last occasion on which this instrument was employed;
but it was not till the year of the Union that torture was ex¬
pressly forbidden by the law in Scotland; the claim of right in
1689 having only declared, " that using torture without evidence,
or in ordinary crimes, was illegal."
We shall here close these notices of the thumbikens, an
instrument of vulgar sound, but well calculated, as we have
seen, for terrible purposes, with this reflexion—that it is never
useless to explore any piece of history which illustrates the state
of manners and law,—which makes us acquainted with the
heroic sufferings of our forefathers, and the evil doings of their
rulers,—which is calculated to sharpen our moral feelings
against the abuses of power, or to show, what is more grateful,
the solid advances made by our country in the acts of legislation
and government
Execution of Rumbold, the Projector of the Rye-house Plot.
—Resuming our notices from Lord Fountainhall's diary, we have
the following particulars, among others, of the plot which takes
its name from the house in which the conspirators used to as¬
semble.
" Phisitians having given in their verdict, that Mr. Rumbold
was in hazard of death by his wounds, the council ordained the
justice court to sit on him, 25th June, 1685; and 26th he was
tried, and charged with a design to murder the late king at
Ryhous, in April, 1683, which he positively denied thatt (was)
sworn against him in England; yet the advocat part-frae that,
lest it should have disparaged the credit of the English plot;
and insisted on his associating with Argyle, and invading Scot¬
land ; and that he was with Campbell or Arkenlass, against the
Athol men, where two or three of them were killed, which he
confessed. And being asked if he was one of the masked exe¬
cutioners that were on the scaffold at the murder of King
Charles the 1st, denyed it; but that he was of Cromwell's regi-
w Rose's Observations on Mr. Fox's Historical Work, p. 179—180.
EXECUTION OF RUMBOLD.
33
ment then, and was on horseback at Whitehall that day, as one
of the guard about the scaffold. And that he was at Dunbar,
Worcester, and Dundee, a lieutenant in Cromwell's army. He
said Sir James Steuart, advocate, told them all would be ruined
by Argyle's lingering in the Highlands, and not marching pre¬
sently to Galloway. And being asked, if he owned his majesty's
authority, he craved leave to be excused, seeing he heeded neither
offend them nor grate his own conscience, for they had enough
to take his life ; beside, his rooted opinion was for a republic
against a monarchie; to pull down which he thought it a duty,
and no sin ; and on the scaffold began to pray for that party, but
was interrupted; and said, if every hair in his head were a
a man, he would venture them all in that quarrel; he otherwise
behaved discreetly enough, and heard the ministers, but took
none of them to the scaffold. He was drawn on a hurdle thereto,
then hoysed up a little in the gallows by a pully, and hanghed
a while, and let down not fullie dead, his breast ripped up, and
his heart pulled out and thrown in the fire; then his head was
strucke off, and his body cut in four quarters, and ordered to be
affixed att Glasgow, Dumfries, New Galloway, and Jedburgh,
and his head to be affixt on the west post of Edinburgh; but
thereafter were, by order from the king, sent to England, to be
affixt at London, where he was best known. The order came
to Scotland 3rd August, 1685.—Nota, he was tryet 25th, and
execute 26th June, 1685."
" Some of the common prisoners that came with Argyle, are
given by the council to Scot of Pitlochie and others, for the
plantations. But some of them was more perverse than others,
in mincing the king's authority, to the number of forty, ordered
to have a piece of their lugg (ear) cut off, and the women dis¬
owning the king to be burnt in the shoulder, that if any of
them return, they might be known thereby, and hanged. 5th
August, 1685."
" A drummer was shot in Leith (for saying he could ran
his sword through all the Papists) by martial law; though he
denied the words, yet declared he would not redeem his life
by turning Papist, 23rd February, 1686. Witnesses were
Irvine of Bonshaw, &c. who falling out called one another per¬
jured."
" A fencing-master, condemned to be hanged by criminal
3
34
TIIE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
court, for uttering words approveing the late rabble. It was
proven that he said, if the trades' lads would fall on the town
guard, he should secure their captain, Patrick Grame, for his
part; and for drinking the confusion of papists, though at the
same time he drank the king's health; yet the chancellor was
inexorable, and beat his own son for pleading for him (and this
was called to remembrance, when the chancellor was taken and
maltreated by Captain Boswell, in Kirkaldie, who took him by
sea when making his escape to France, after the usurpation in
1688), and so he was hanged on the 5th of March, 1686, and
died piously. He was dealt with to accuse Queensberry with
accession to the rabble, but refused."
" There being a band given into Mackenzie's chamber, to one
Douglas, to registrat; and he having given up the principall to
one Weddell, the granter, and given the pursuer an extract,
they were both pillored, and had their luggs nailed to the
Throne, 27th March 1685; and Weddell warded till he pay
the debt."
" The chancellor, theasaurer, and Ross, Archbishop of St.
Andrews, come from London to Edinburgh, 8th of April, 1685,
having been only eight days by the way; and the council or¬
dered the Shiles wherthrow the chancellor was to pass, to attend
him."
" The late king's statue on horseback was set up in the Par¬
liament Close, 16th April, 1685. It stood the town of Edin¬
burgh more than £ 1,000 sterling."
The Highland Fire-cross.—"The fire-cross by order of council
is sent through the west of Fife and Kinross, as nearest Stir¬
ling, that all betwixt sixteen and sixty might rise and oppose Ar-
gyle."
This is a remarkable instance, perhaps the latest of the fire-
cross having been sent round by command of government. Patin,
in his account of Somerset's expedition, thus describes it: " And
thys is a cross (as I have hard sum say) of i i brandes ends
caried a crosse upon spears point, with proclamation of the time
and place when and whether they shall cum, with how much
provision of vitail. Some others say it is a crosse, painted all
red, and set for certayn days in the fields of that baronie,
whereof they will have the people to cum : whearby all between
THE COVENANTERS
35
sixty and sixten are peremptory summoie(j. that if they come
not with their vitayll according at the tirre an<j place then ap¬
pointed, all the land thear is forfated straight to the kynges vse,
and the Tariers taken for traitours and reikis."
The Covenanters.—Notwithstanding the great degree of in¬
terest attached to the history of the reformation in Scotland, it
is only latterly that much attention has been paid to it, and many
who had taken it for granted that the reformers were foolish,
and violent, and detestable enthusiasts, have with some astonish¬
ment discovered that they displayed in their efforts to introduce
the protestant faith an intrepidity, a zeal, and an elevation of
principle which we cannot too highly venerate. The reforma¬
tion in this country was, from its infancy, interwoven with
political freedom. It was, at its commencement, strenuously
opposed by the united energy of the monarch and the church;
and it thus becomes necessary to gain the esteem and support
of the people, in order to counterbalance the resistance which
threatened to render its accomplishment impossible. It was,
through the prudence of those who conducted it, gradually dis¬
seminated; and it at length was so extensively embraced, that it
completed its triumph by obtaining the sanction of the legis¬
lature. Still, however, much ground was left for diversity of
sentiment; and various causes united in producing a state of the
public mind which gave rise to the most memorable events,—
events which powerfully affected our civil condition, and the
complexion of the national character.
From the connexion which Knox had with Calvin and the
other illustrious divines of Geneva, he was led, as soon as the
ascendancy of the reformation was secured, to give to the ec¬
clesiastical polity which was to be introduced, a popular form; his
views were carried fully into effect, after his death, by Melvil,
who succeeded in overthrowing the modified system of epis¬
copacy which he found existing, and in establishing the pres-
byterian discipline. To this discipline James VI. gave occasionally
a cold and reluctant support; but he did not conceal the jea¬
lousy with which he regarded it; and although he did not, while
he remained in Scotland, directly attempt its subversion, he
exerted his influence in making such changesa s, by restraining
the honest and manly independence of some of the most eminent
3 *
3G TfIE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
/ .
ministers, would, he fasted, render it subservient to the views
and designs of the cclrb After he had ascended the throne of
England, and had b en gratified with the obsequiousness of the
bishops, who exhib*ed, to be sure, in this respect, a very
marked, and to hi#1 a very delightful, contrast to the rugged
plainness of the for ner ecclesiastics, he determined, as the most
effectual mode of strengthening the prerogative, to introduce
episcopacy i»io his native kingdom. To attain his object, he had
recourse to means which alienated the affections of a vast pro¬
portion of his subjects, which still more endeared them to the
principles to which they had been previously attached, and in¬
spired them with the conviction that it was a duty which it would
be impiety to neglect, to defend, even against the sovereign him¬
self, these principles.
His unfortunate and infatuated son, when he at length turned
his attention to Scotland, resolved to go far beyond what his
father had effected, and to compel his countrymen to submit to
a perfect uniformity of faith and polity with their southern
neighbours. The rashness with which he made the attempt,
his disregard of the plainest indications of aversion to his mea¬
sures, the violence of the bishops whom he selected, and the
disgust of the nobility excited by his marked partiality to the
prelates and his conferring upon them some of the most splendid
civil offices, soon formed a general resolution to oppose his in¬
novations. The opposition was identified, in the public esti¬
mation, with religion itself, and by the most awful and striking
oaths, administered with whatever could increase their efficacy,
the enemies of episcopacy, bound themselves to exterminate
prelacy, and to re-establish that form of polity which, from
numberless associations, they regarded with the utmost re¬
verence, and which they were prepared to defend with the most
ardent zeal.
The limits to which we must necessarily here confine our¬
selves, render it impossible to give even a faint sketch of the
part which they acted in the civil commotions that terminated
in the execution of the king; but it may be evident, from what
has been already stated, that the feelings of the people must
have been strongly excited, and it cannot be a matter of wonder
that, accustomed as they were to consider their cause as the
-cause of God, almost constantly employed in those exercises of
THE COVENANTERS.
37
devotion in which they implored his blessing upon it, and sti¬
mulated by the homely but energetic address of their beloved
pastors, many of them yielded to the fervour of a heated imagi¬
nation, and were influenced by what, when the causes which
produced it have ceased to operate, must appear to be the wild-
ness of enthusiasm. This was the unavoidable effect of the cir¬
cumstances under which they were placed,—it was the excess
into which the weakness of our nature, under these circum¬
stances, could scarcely fail to be betrayed ; but we must pene¬
trate through it, to appreciate their character, and we shall find
that the great body of them were actuated by the most heroic
attachment to freedom, and by the firmest determination not to
bow their necks to the crushing oppression of the most savage
despotism.
During the period which elapsed between the death of Charles
and the restoration of his son, they split, as might have been
anticipated, into parties, and there was certainly, amongst many
of those who assumed the appellation of Protesters, a degree of
fanatism which bewildered their understandings, and which,
when aggravated, as it afterward was by the horrors of per¬
secution, did lead to the most lamentable departure from duty
and from humanity, but this under a gentle administration
would have gradually yielded to the milder spirit of their bre¬
thren, while the activity and earnestness which distinguished
their ministry might have remained.
Charles II., although he declared his purpose of supporting
the religion supported by law, in language, about the meaning of
which no honest man could hesitate, and which, if it were
intended to deceive, threw indelible infamy upon both the king
and the men who advised him, soon directed against presbytery
the fury of an iron government. He abolished his judicatories,
and, by virtue of his prerogative, forced episcopacy, in a form
much more obnoxious than it had previously assumed in Scot¬
land, upon a nation penetrated with the conviction that sub¬
mission to it was impiety, and little disposed to venerate
authority which had not scrupled to contaminate itself by hav¬
ing recourse to the meanest dissimulation, and by forming an
union with the basest apostacy. We must read the history of
the dire persecutions, must read the shocking details which, in
sad abundance, have been transmitted to us, and which are so
38
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
authenticated, that without prejudice a scepticism must admit
their reality to have an adequate conception of the profligacy,
the cruelty, and the vile oppression which prevailed in Scotland;
the heart sickens at the dismal narration, and we must hence
extinguish every feeling of humanity and patriotism, if we do
not sympathize with the unhappy presbyterians and cove¬
nanters,* who were tortured because they would not abjure a
cause implicated with the freedom of their country, and, as they
were satisfied, with the eternal salvation of its inhabitants.
The following account of the state of the public mind as to the
episcopacy, at the period of the restauration, we extract from a
popular work, the nature of which it may convey some idea.f
" Episcopacy had never been popular in Scotland, not in the
dayes of ancient ignorance; but since the reformation, in regarde
Scotland was reformed by a set of Missionaries from Geneva,
bishops were always looked at with a frown. Indeed the people
of Scotland (leaving the arguments from Scripture, and the
testimonies of Jerom to scholars) used much to insist upon a sort
of popular concrete arguments. The bishops had almost all
been both patrons of sin and patterns of profaneness; and if a man
in repute turned bishop, it was observed he changed both frame
and practice for the worse; and, as Beza has foretold, bishops
would introduce epicurisme and atheism, so Scotland found
godliness withered, and wickedness overspread the land first
and last. They had a sting for no man but a puritan or a pres-
byterian; beside they knew well that the hishops, having per¬
jured themselves most solemnly, would do as the fallen angels
did,—endeavour to corrupt mankind by involving all Scotland
in their own sin, that so their personal sin might be excusable,
as being the sin of the times. They had also seen a curse attend
almost all the bishops' persons and families, and all that were
active to introduce them were plagued as these that rebuilt
Jericho, and such as these they loved not. It was also found by
experience, that as episcopacy is a branch of popery, so it led
always to the root, and therefore bishops were looked at as the
papists' harbingers. So the body of the people of Scotland
were heart enemies to bishops; and even those of the ministry
* See Balfour of Burley. Passim.
f The surest and true History of the Church of Scotland, from the restoration
to the year 1678. By the Rev. James Kirton.
THE COVENANTERS. 39
*
who pyned with bishops in their pretended synods and pres¬
byteries, protested-themselves enemies to episcopacy, protesting
they believed what they did might well consist with the prin¬
ciples of a presbyterian, and they kept themselves in place only
that they might be in condition to oppose the bishops' cause,
which they alleadged the ministers turned out could not so well
doe."
We cannot close this brief history of the Covenanters without
a few words in relation to the " Tales of my Landlord," so much
connected with the present subject, and to the deep interest
excited by which we suspect that we owe the publication of the
work above quoted, and of the commentary so preposterously
attached to it. The title of this fascinating work exempts the
author of it from the obligation of accuracy, as to the history
upon which his tale is founded; and we do not think that he is
amenable at the bar of cristicism for the colouring spread over
the incidents so admirably interwoven in his story, provided no
other charge can be brought against him. But all tales, whether
historical or not, ought to have a salutary tendency; if they be
calculated to mislead our moral judgment, they cannot be too
severely censured. Upon this score we cannot acquit the author
of the "Tales of my Landlord." He has certainly, and it is
admitted both by friends and foes, sought to hold up to ridicule
the whole body of the Covenanters, and to invest their opponents
with a gallantry and generosity of spirit which are very apt to
captivate general readers. Now, as the Covenanters, with all
their faults, did resist despotism, and their earthly persecutors
did what lay in them to entail it upon their country, there is
some danger that we associate the cause of the presbyterians
with the men who supported it, as he had painted them, and
may thus vastly undervalue the freedom which it is our duty
and should be an happiness to revere. But we do not regret
that the Tales were published, because we are persuaded that
the curiosity which they have excited, and which graver works
would not have raised, graver works now alone will satisfy; and
although, no doubt, many readers of the tales will, after getting
a new novel, think no more of the Covenanters, yet there are
not a few who will seriously inquire what they actually were,
and how they really conducted themselves. We anticipate from
40
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
this inquiry the happiest results; for whilst the errors and
crimes of some of the Covenanters will be discovered, their
merit upon the whole will be duly appreciated, and what is of
much more consequence, their very opinion respecting them,
the views of the misery and oppression to which they were sub¬
jected, will kindle that pure love of liberty to which we owe our
invaluable constitution, and which we must cherish in the rising
generation,—if that constitution is to be transmitted to our
children.
There is extant in MS. an account of the transactions in Scot¬
land, during some part of the civil wars in the reign of Charles I.,
the author, one Spalding, commissary of Aberdeen; his prin¬
ciples were those of a loyalist, but he writes with great appear¬
ance of impartiality and like an honest man. Some years ago
there was a plan for printing of Spalding's memoirs; but at
that time there was not the same curiosity for anecdotes as now.
Whether or not these memoirs have been printed we cannot
say: the following, however, are specimens transcribed from
the MS. copy; and from which we may see the miseries of civil
war, and how thankful we ought to be for the tranquillity we
enjoy both in church and state.
P. 128. The Covenanters wore blue ribbons.
P. 138. Men and women were urged to swear that they did
subscribe, and swear this covenant willingly, freely, and from
their hearts, and not from any fear or dread.
P. 153. Marquis of Huntley's declaration to the Covenanters.
"For my own part, I am in your power, and resolve not to
leave that foul title of traitor as an inheritance to my posterity;
you may take my head from my shoulders, but not my heart
from my sovereign."
P. 168. When the first army (Lord Burleigh's) came to Aber¬
deen, every captain and soldier had a blue ribbon about his
neck; in despite and derision whereof, some women of Aber¬
deen, as was alledged, knit blue ribbons about their messous
(lap-dogs) craigs (necks), whereat the soldiers took offence,
and killed all their dogs.
P. 390. Lord Ludovic Gordon left his father (1642), and
carried off a little cabinet, containing his jewels, and went to
Holland.
THE COVENANTERS.
41
P. 462. Upon a feast-day, Mr. Andrew Cant, Minister of
Aberdeen, would not give the blessing after the forenoon's
sermon, but after the afternoon's sermon, once for all.
P. 503. Lord Sinclair's soldiers (Covenanters) did no good,
but much evil, daily debauching in drinking, whoring, night-
walking, combating, swearing, and brought sundry honest wo¬
men's servants to great misery, whose bodies they had abused
—the regiment consisted of 260. Besides the women who
went with them, information was lodged against 65 of their
whores.
P. 967. Montrose, on his return to Aberdeenshire, burnt the
village of Echt, and most of the corn and straw, and carried
off the cattle; burnt the house of Pittordice and Dorlatham.
P. 980. The proprietors sought redress from the Committee
of Estates. The Committee ordered them, for their indemni¬
fication, to take possession of the Estates of certain Roman Ca¬
tholics in Aberdeenshire.
P. 971. About November, 1644, Ludovic Gordon married
Mary, daughter of Sir John Grant, of Frenghie; her portion,
20,000 marks.
P. 1004. Montrose wasted the lands of the Covenanters in
Moray, he burnt the houses of Bandalloch, Grangehill, Brodie,
Cubon, and Innes; plundered Burgie, Letham, and Duffus, de¬
stroyed salmon boats and nets.
P. 1005. Elgin plundered, especially by the laird of Grant's
soldiers.
P. 1006. Lord Graham, a youth of 16, died at Bog (Gordon
Castle), " a proper youth, and of singular expectations."
P. 1007. Cullen house plundered, the Countess of Findlater,
by promise of a ransom of 20,000 marks, redeemed the house,
and the rest of her husband's house from fire. Boyne burnt,
Banff plundered, every man seen in the street was stripped
naked.
P. 1010. The estate of Frendraught laid desolate.
P. 1015. Duric's and Fintrie's burnt and desolated.
P. 1016. Barns of Dunother burnt, and town of Stone¬
haven.
P. 1017. Cowie, Setteresso, Urie, Arbuthnot. " The people
of Stone-haven and Cowie came out, men, women, and child-
42
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
ren at their foot, and children in their arms, crying, howling,
weeping, praying the Earl (Qu. who?) for God's cause to save
them from this fire how soon it was kindled; but the poor
people got no answer, nor knew they were to go."
P. 1017. Brechin plundered, 60 houses burnt.
P. 1026. The troops of Harvie, at that time serving with
the Covenanters, plundered Newton and Haithill.
P 1028. Montrose's troops burnt Coupar of Angus, and slew
Mr. Robert Lindsay, at Coupar, and some others.
P. 1031. Lieut. General Baillie burnt Atholl, he commanded
the Covenanters.
P. 1034. The overthrow of the Covenanters at Aldern, at¬
tributed to one Major Drummond, who wheeled about unskil¬
fully through his own foot, and broke their ranks; he was con¬
demned to be shot, and sentence was executed against him.
P. 1035. Campbell, of Lawers, Sir John Murray, and Sir
Gideon Moor, killed at Inverlochie.
P. 1035. Montrose plundered the priory of Elgin. "But
being church building, he would not burn the samemuch
burning in Elgin.
P. 1031. Cullen burnt up, this means the Royal Borough,
vulgarly called Cullen, properly Inver Cullen; in the same way
Inver Bervie is called Bervie.
State of the Scottish Army under General Alexander Leslie,
in the year 1641.—In the summer of 1640, an army was sud¬
denly collected in different parts of Scotland, in the view of
repelling an expected invasion from England, and placed under
the command of General Alexander Leslie, aided by various
other officers, who like himself had learned the military art, and
acquired no small share of military fame, under Gustavus Adol-
phus. On the approach of the English forces under the Lord
Conway, the Scottish army crossed the border, and on the 28th
of August at Newburn, on the river Tyne, encountered and re¬
pulsed their opponents, and obtained complete possession of
Newcastle and the neighbouring county, as far as the borders of
Yorkshire. In this situation they remained for more than a
year; but during the period of inactivity, it is creditable to the
talents of Leslie and his officers, that he not only maintained the
SCOTTISH ARMY.
43
most exact discipline among his troops, but that lie was enabled
to improve their skill in all the military exercises, to a degree
that had till then been but little known in Great Britain.
Among these officers, one of the most eminent was Colonel
Sir Alexander Hamilton, general of the artillery, or master of
the ordnance, a younger brother of Thomas first Earl of Had¬
dington ; and who, like the commander-in-chief, had been
recalled by his countrymen from a distinguished station in foreign
service, to take a share in that distracting and unhappy warfare
with which his native kingdom was threatened. In a petition to
the king and parliament of Scotland, Colonel Hamilton states it
as " not unknown that his whole study has been in the art of
military discipline, especially anent artillery, wherein he being
employed in Germany upon honourable and good conditions, he
was recalled therefrom to England, where his majesty was gra¬
ciously pleased to grant him pensions and allowances eight
hundred pounds sterling by year," and in the history of the civil
wars, his eminent services as a soldier, more especially in his
own department of the ordnance, are commemorated. It was
unquestionably owing to his superior skill in the management of
his artillery, that the affair of Newburn had been terminated
so advantageously and with such small loss to the Scottish
army.
In the month of August, 1641, King Charles I., in the course ot
his journey into Scotland, visited the army at Newcastle, and was
entertained by Leslie with a display of its exact discipline and
soldier-like appearance, which probably was intended by the
general for other purposes besides those of common military
parade. Of this royal review, and of the conduct ol the army
and its commander, on their soon after returning from England,
a most curious and not uninteresting account was published at
the time in one of those small pamphlets which was then issuing
daily from the press, and of which we shall here present our
readers with a reprint. It is of English composition, but will
be found to do ample justice to the military character of the
Scottish army and their able commanders, not omitting what
was due to the warlike inventions of "that their famous en¬
gineer Sandy Hamilton," who will be readily recognized as the
person of whom we have already given some account.
" General Lesly being advertised of the time ol his majesties
44
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
coming to Newcastle, that he might as well appear in his own
art and lustre, as in his dutie and loialty to his soverane (hav¬
ing first made his choice of fit ground) hee drew out his whole
forces, both horse and foot, with the artillerie: and the better
to express the soldier's salute and welcome of their king, he
rallied his men into two divisions of equal number, ranging
them in a great length, with an equal distance between them
of about eight score, which rendered them the more con¬
spicuous, and with the braver aspect to the beholders. Through
these the king was to pass; whether being come, the general
alighting from his horse (which was presently taken by two of
his footmen) hee prostrated himselfe and service before the
king, upon his knees, his majestie a while privatelie talking to
him, and at his rising gave him his hand to kiss, and com¬
manded his horse to be given to him, whereon remounted, he
ridd with the king through the armie.
" In the first place stood Highlanders, commonly called Red¬
shanks, with their plaids cast over their shoulders, having every
one his bow and arrows, with a broad slycing sword by his syde;
these are so good markesmen that they will kill a deere in his
speed; it being the cheepest part of their living, selling the skins
by great quantities, and living on the flesh. Next were mus¬
keteers, interlaid with pikes, and here and there intermixt with
those dangerous short gunners, invented by that their famous
engineer Sandy Hamilton, and were for the sudden execution
of horse, in case they should asaile; then again bowes, muskets,
and pikes, for a good distance in both sides. In the midway,
the artillery was placed by tiers, consisting of about 60 pieces of
ordnance, the cannoniers standing in readiness with fired lin¬
stocks in their hands. The horsemen were here placed on both
sides, which served as wings or flanks to the whole army, and
so forward in the same order, but disposed into so goodly a pre¬
sence and posture, and with such suitable equipage and militarie
accommodations that they appeared ready to give or take battle,
or forthwith to have gone upon some notable designe. And as
the king passed along, they gave such true fyre, as it is be¬
lieved, since the invention of gunnes, never better was seen or
heard: they discharged wondrous swift, but with as good a
method and order as your skillfulest ringers observe with bels,
not suffering the noise of the one to drowne the other. The
BATTLE OF TIPPERMUHt.
45
king received such contentment, that whereas his dinner was
appointed and provided at the maiors of Newcastle, hee yet went
and honnored Generall Lesly with his presence at dinner, who
hath not only gained a good report with his majestie to be a
brave soldier, but also a singular esteem to be a most expert
and able commander and generall, by such of our English of¬
ficers as were then with his majestie."
" The Scots when they marched out of Newcastle, their artil-
lerie being mounted upon their carriages, advanced first forth
with the cannoniers and other officers thereto belonging, and
some troops of horse; then most of the regiments of foot; after
them their provision baggage and carriage; then followed the
rest of the foot; and all the rest taking their leaves in a most
brotherly and friendly manner. Being gone some four miles
from the town, their general having directed them to march
forwards, he returned to Newcastle, accompanied with some
few of his officers, causing the toll-bell to be rung up and downe
the towne, proclaiming that if any of the towne were not yet
satisfied for any thing due to them from any of his officers or
soldiers, let them bring in their tickets, and he would pay them,
which he did accordingly, to the great content of the townsmen,
and much applause of the general and the whole armie. And
after a solemne taking of his levve, he followed the armie, going
all the way along with them in the reere, as they marched, and
not any thing taken from any man in all the iourney, to their
singular commendation, and gayning the good esteem of all that
passed by.
Tippermuir.*—The extraordinary battle, or rather route, of
Tippermuir, near Perth, took place on the 19th of May, 1644,
the Marquis of Montrose being general for the King, and the
Lord Elcho for the Covenant. Montrose's army consisted of
2000 foot and 500 horse, partly Irish and partly Highlanders,
while the force under Elcho amounted to 5000 cavalry and in¬
fantry. The Covenanters were disgracefully defeated in a
single charge, 300 slain chiefly in the pursuit, and many taken
prisoners;—" Quorum alii praestito sacramento militari, victoris
* An original extract from the Minutes of Perth, respecting the surrender of
that town to Montrose's army, in 1644.
46
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
arma sequuti sunt: sed mala fide, plerique enim omnes defecere.
Reliquos data, solemni modo, fide, nunquam in posterum contra
regem ejusve duces militaturos libertati restituit." * In the conflict
Montrose had only two of his men wounded.
Spalding, in his naive manner, gives the following account of
the Marquis's motions previous to the battle of Tippermuir and
of the affair itself. It may be remarked, that he errs respecting
the death of Lord Kilpont,who was not assassinated during the
battle, but in a subsequent tumult of the Highlanders and Irish:
"Ye heard before of McDonald's taking service with Mont¬
rose, his landing and progress with the Irishes, and what order
the estates took in setting forth proclamations. As M'Donald
marched in through Badenoch, M'Donald of Keppach and his
forces came willingly unto him, with divers others; the tutor of
Struan, and his friends and followers, at his coming to Athol,
came unto him; and here likewise James Marquis of Montrose
trysted with this M'Donald and his Irishes. He came secretly
from England, accompanied only with Crowner Hay and
Crowner Sibbald, as was said; and clad in coat and trews, upon
his foot he came to Athol, where divers gentlemen of that coun¬
try met him, especially the Stuarts of Athol, and offered their
service to him. The Lord Kilpont came there with some
friends. This mighty Marquis of Montrose, clad now with the
king's commission and authority, calling now to mind the manifold
injuries and oppressions done to him by the estates, especially by
Argyle, since the beginning of this covenant, and resolving to
revenge the king's quarrel and his own both against the king's
rebels and his mortal enemies, to the utmost of his power
(which indeed he did after a miraculous manner in several
battles, as ye shall hear, to the great fear and terror of all
Scotland), he marches from Athol above St. Johnston. The
general committee of estates at Edinburgh, hearing of the Irish
progress, hastily raises out of the shires of Fife, Perth, and
Angus, an army of about 6000 foot and 800 horse, with expert
officers and commanders, ammunition, powder, ball, and four
field pieces, to go upon the Irishes. They were well in order
both horse and foot; they march forward, and upon Thursday
the first of September both parties meet upon a muir four miles
* Rer. Montisros. Cap, V.
BATTLE OF TIPPERMUIR.
47
bewest St. Johnston, called Tibbermuir; but the Lieutenant
foresaid, Montrose, routed and defeated their haill forces with
great slaughter, killed 1300, some say 1500, of their men, and
took 800 prisoners, whom they made to serve in their wars.
They got plenty of arms, powder, ball, their canon, and some
horse, bag, and baggage, with little loss for themselves. Lieu¬
tenant Montrose atchieved the victory with few men, not exceed¬
ing 3000 foot, with few or no horsemen at all, and with loss of
some but not many men, and with none of note except the Lord
Kilpont, who was by one of his own men suddenly and unhappily
slain, to the Lieutenant's grief. After this conflict, he upon the
morn, being Monday the 2nd of September, takes in the burgh
of St. Johnston, with little debate, and small blood. They
plunder the town for goods, monies, arms, ammunition, and such
of their men as they thought meet to serve in the wars, with all
the horse they could get, whereof this lieutenant was scarce, as
I have said.
" The defeat of the Covenanters by Montrose, was so complete
and terrific, that, after a lapse of eighty years, the remembrance
of it could still appal the courage of the presbyterian party.
Upon the breaking out of the insurrection in the year 1715, the
Earl of Rothes, sheriff and lord lieutenant of the county of Fife,
issued an order, for all the fencible men in the countie, to meet
him at a place called Cashmoor; the gentlemen took no notice
of his orders, nor did the commons, except those whom the mi¬
nisters forced to go to the place of rendezvous, to the number of
fifteen hundred men, being all that their utmost diligence would
perform; but those of that countie having been taught by ex¬
perience that it is not good meddling with edge tools, especially
in the hands of Highlandmen, were very averse from taking
arms. No sooner they reflected on the place of rendezvous,
Cashmoor, than Toppermuir* was called to mind; a place not
far from thence where Montrose had routed them, when under
the command of my great grand uncle, the Earl of Wemyss,
then generall of God's armie; in a word, the unlucky choice of
a place called Moor, appeared ominous; and that with the flying
report of the Highlandmen having made themselves master of
* See Legend of Montrose.
48
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Perth, made them throw down their arms and run, notwith¬
standing the trouble that Rothes and the ministers gave them¬
selves to stop them."*
The surrender of Perth to the Marquis of Montrose, was
deemed by the great body of the Covenanters, an act of cowar¬
dice or treachery, or both. An apologetical paper (without a
date) was given in, either to the parliament or the committee
of estates,f by Messrs. John Robertson and George Halyburton,
ministers of Perth, the latter of whom, in spite of all the co¬
venanting fervour displayed in this curious document, deserted
his party at the restoration, and was consecrated Rishop of
Dunkeld. He is thus characterized byKirkton: "Mr. George
Halyburton for Dunkeld, was a man of utterance, but who had
made more changes than old Infamous Eccebolius, and was
never thought severe in any, he seemed to be so ingenious, and
never was : you may guess what savour was in that salt."! We
are told in the memoirs of the Reverend Thomas Halyburton,
that the bishop " who proved a cruel persecutor of his former
friends, was scarce well warm in his nest, when the Lord smote
him with sore sickness, of which he died, and went to his
place."
The Rebellions.—The following traces of the memorable re¬
bellions in the year 1715 and 1745, will throw considerable
light on many of the incidents of the Scottish Novels, without a
knowledge of which some of the most interesting incidents
might be obscured, to such as may not have perused the history
of these eventful times.
The Earl of Mar, who was secretary of state to Queen Anne,
finding himself left out of public employment by George I., wrote
a letter to him, complaining of neglect and misrepresentation,
and hinting at former services, and expressing his zeal for the
protestant succession. Rut this letter not having the desired
effect, his resentment hurried him into a rebellion against a
Prince to whom he had sworn allegiance. Having for this end
* MS. Memoirs of Lord St. Clair.
f Or perhaps to the general assembly of the Church, for no mention of it
occurs in the hooks of the committee of estates, preserved in the Register House,
J Kirk. Hert, p. 136.
THE REBELLIONS.
40
concerted proper measures with the Jacobites* and Papists at
London, about the middle of August, 1715, he set out for Scot¬
land, where he proclaimed a great hunting,-}- at which it is a
custom there for the country people round to appear well
armed.
At an entertainment after the sport, he made his intentions
known to them in a speech full of invectives against the new
succession and King George. At first he gained little credit,
being suspected; but some coming into his measures, their
number by degrees increased, the earl continually encouraging
and uniting them by promises of dissolving the union, and as¬
surances that thousands were engaged with him; that Ormond
and Bolingbroke were gone over to France to engage the Re¬
gent to assist them with men and money, and that they would
certainly land very soon, together with the Duke of Berwick,
at the head of a very considerable force.
Having obtained the Pretender's commission of Lieutenant
General, on the 9th of September, 1715, the Earl of Mar hoisted
his standard at Kirk-Michael, and proclaimed him king. He
continued here four or five days, and then, with his company,
consisting of no more than 60 men, marched to Moulin, thence
to Logarth, thence, increased to 1,000, to Dunkeld, and from
thence, being 2,000 strong, they set forward for Perth. This
* The term Jacobite is derived from Jacobus, and was a reproachful epithet
bestowed on persons who disapproved of the revolution of King William, and
who continued still to assert the right and adhere to the interests of the de¬
throned tyrant James, and his family. It has, moreover, been applied to all such
as have vindicated the execrable doctrines of passive obedience, non-resistance,
and the divine right of Kings, and who, consequently, hold high notions of their
prerogatives. In this last sense it has much the same import with Tory. The
epithet Whig is generally understood to denote a friend to civil and religious
liberty; a stern advocate for the rights of the people, but who, nevertheless, is
zealous for the support of the king in all his just prerogatives, though at the same
time desirous of reducing him to an incapacity of abusing his power. Whatever,
says Mr. Belsham, tends to enlarge the power of princes or magistrates beyond
the precise line or limit of the general good, whatever imposes oppressive, or
even superfluous restraints upon the liberty of the people, or introduces any
species of civil inequality, not founded upon the basis of public utility, is the very
essence of Toryism. On the other hand, genuine Whiggism is nothing more
lhan good temper and good sense, or to adopt higher and more appropriate terms
of expression, benevolence and wisdom applied to the science of government.
The term W hig, says another writer, combines all that is honorable in loyalty,
with all that is consistent in patriotism.
f The rebellion in 1715, was said to be a hunting match in the isle of Skye.
4
50
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
town was seized, September 16th, by John Hay, brother to the
Earl of Ivinnoul, at the head of 200 horse, before the arrival
of the Earl of Rothes who was marching to secure it for the
King, with 300 men. Here the rebels furnished themselves
with arms, by sending out parties for that purpose, and by seiz¬
ing a ship bound for the north to the Earl of Sutherland, who
was raising his tenants for the King, in which they found 300
complete stand.
Mackintosh now joined them at Perth with 500 stout men,
well disciplined and armed; these marched to the sea coast of
Fife, and there with five other regiments, viz. Mar's own,
Strathmore's, Nairn's, Murray's and Brummond's, in all 2,500,
having seized all the boats on that coast, embarked, and, in
spite of the King's ships in the Frith, 1500 of them got safe on
shore, the rest putting back.
Mr. James Murray* arrived at Perth from France, and took
the character of Secretary of State to the Pretender. About
that time a strong party attempted to surprise the garrison of
Inverlochy, and took two redoubts, in which were an officer
and 20 men, but the main garrison being on their guard, obliged
them to retreat, and they marched thence into Argyleshire.
They, also, just before this, attempted to surprise the castle of
Edinburgh. Lord Drummond with ninety choice persons, all
gentlemen, were picked out for the enterprize; they had cor¬
rupted one Aniesly, a sergeant, a corporal and two sentinels in
the castle; these were to assist upon the wall near the sally port,
by drawing up a scaling ladder; but all the joints of it not
coming at once, it proved too short for any to get over the wall.
The officers of the garrison, in the meantime, had intelligence
of the design, and getting their men silently together, discovered
the ladder, unloosed it at the top of the wall, let it fall, and im¬
mediately ordered the sentinel*to discharge his piece; upon this
the rounds also fired upon the gentlemen at the foot of the lad¬
der, who immediately^dispersed, four only being taken.
The Pretender was proclaimed from place to place, and a
declaration was published by the Earl of Mar, requiring the
people every where to resort to their new master's standard.
* The same individual, or one of the same name, was secretary in 1745. His
wife, finely dressed with ribbons, &c. assisted on horseback at the proclaiming
the young Pretender in Edinburgh.-
THE REBELLIONS.
51
His numbers daily increasing, and receiving assurances from
France that the Pretender would soon join him in person, he
prepared to cross the Forth and advance to Edinburgh; but
finding a detachment was ordered to watch him, he put it off,
and published a proclamation for an assessment, which was
answered in a counter proclamation by the Duke of Argyle, and
several declarations were made on both sides.
Oct. 18.—2,300 of the western Highlanders, commanded by
General Gordon, came from Inverary, the chief town in Argyle-
shire, but thought fit to retire, finding that the Earl of llay
(now Duke of Argyle) was ready to receive them.
Oct. 23.—The Duke had notice that about 200 foot and 100
horse were marching towards Dumfrieshire; upon this he im¬
mediately detached a party of dragoons under Lord Cathcart,
who came up with the rebels at five the next morning, and killed
and wounded several, and took 17 horsemen; a few days
after, 400 of Breadalbin's men were surrounded by Lord Hay
and obliged to separate and return home.
Nov. 12.—The Duke of Argyle, having received advice that
the rebels, to the number of 8,000, were preparing to join
Gordon with the western clans, and to attempt crossing the
Forth, resolved to prevent them; he accordingly advanced with
all his forces towards Dunblain. This occasioned a general en¬
gagement at Sheriffe Moor, near that place (Nov. 13), the
success of which was differently represented, each side claiming
the victory, the left wing on each side being routed/ Soon
after this battle the rebels lost Inverness, which was held for
them by Sir John Mackenzie; this was a great check to Mar,
who retired again to Perth, where he lay all the remainder ol
that and the next month, during which time 8,000 Dutch rein¬
forced the Duke of Argyle.
Nov. 22. — The Pretender landed near Aberdeen, from
whence he marched to Scoon, two miles from Perth, and issued
out several proclamations; one for a general thanksgiving for
his safe arrival, another for praying for him in the churches, a
third for the currency of foreign coin, a fourth for summoning
the convention of States, a fifth for arming all effective men,
* The party, also, that crossed the Firth, and went into England to join Forster
and Derwentwater, was obliged to surrender the same day at Preston.
• 4 *
52
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
from sixteen to sixty, and ordering them to repair to his royal
standard. He was here addressed by the Episcopal clergy, the
magistrates and citizens of Aberdeen ; and in the meantime the
Earl of Mar, to raise the affections of the people, published a
circular letter full of his master's praise (Jan. 17), who soon after
unhappily issued an order for burning the country. The war
rant for exercising this cruelty was directed to James Graham,
the younger, of Braes, and the reason of it was to deprive the
King's army, which was advancing towards the rebels, of forage
or quarters. But it was of no service to them, for the Duke of
Argyle, having got 2,000 waggons, and fourteen days provi¬
sions, proceeded, and put them in such consternation that se¬
veral of their posts were abandoned; as also the castles of Braco
and Tullibardine.
According to this order, several towns, as Auchterarder,
Blackford, Dunning, and Muthell, and other small villages, were
burnt to the ground; by which the poor inhabitants, being only
the old infirm men, the women and children (the able-bodied
being forced from their homes, either into the Bebellion, or to
seek shelter), were driven out, and exposed to the open air^
whiclnjrnade a most dismal sight, to behold those under these
unhappy circumstances, exposed in the extremest season of the
year, and in one of the coldest winters that has been felt these
many ages; so great a load of snow upon the earth, that a speedy
dispatch or death, would have been more eligible to these poor
naked creatures, than the unconceivable pains that follow cold,
hunger, and nakedness, to the old and infirm; besides the ten¬
derness of the other sex and sucking infants." *
Nov. 31.—His Grace passed the Em, and advanced within
eight miles of Perth, which the rebels also abandoned imme¬
diately, passing over the river Tay on the ice, and the Pretender
and the Earl of Mar followed; whereupon the Duke of Argyle
ordered 400 dragoons and 1,000 foot to take possession of the
place. The whole army followed; from hence his Grace pur¬
sued the flying enemy with the utmost expedition, with six squa¬
drons of dragoons, three battalions, and 800 detached foot. The
next day (Dec. 1) they proceeded to Dundee, from whence the
rebels retired to Montrose, keeping two days' march before the
* Patten's Hist. p. 79.
THE REBELLIONS.
53
King's forces, which the Duke divided so as to pursue them in
every route.
At Montrose, the Pretender received advice that the King's
army was advancing, and ordered the clans which had remained
with him, to be ready to march about eight at night to Aberdeen,
where he assured them a considerable force from France would
soon join them. At the hour appointed for his march, he or¬
dered his horses to be brought before the door of the house in
which he lodged, as if he designed to go with them, but at the
same time he slipped privately out on foot, accompanied by only
one domestic, went to the Earl of Mar's lodgings, from thence by
a byway to the water-side, where a boat waited, and carried
him on board a French ship; and about a quarter of an hour
afterwards two other boats carried the Earl of Melfort, the Lord
Drummond, Lieut. Gen. Sheldon, and ten other gentlemen on
board the same ship, when they put to sea. The Earls of Ma-
rischall and Southesk, the Lord Tinmouth, son to the Duke of
Berwick, Gen. Gordon, and many gentlemen and officers of
distinction, were left to shift for themselves; of which 47 were
cast away in a boat. The clans for the most part dispersed, and
ran to the mountains, and about 1,000 of them, who continued
in a body, marched to Aberdeen; but being pursued from place
to place, and waiting in vain for the assistance their master pro¬
mised at parting, they all either dispersed, or threw themselves
on the mercy of his Majesty, or followed, as opportunity afforded,
their fugitive master into France.
A List of the Clans of Scotland, with the badges of distinction ivorn in the
bonnets of each.
Names.
Badges.
Names.
Badges.
Buchanan,
Birch.
Graham,
Laurel.
Cameron,
Oak.
Grant,
Cranberry Heath.
Campbell,
Myrtle.
Gunn,
Rose wort.
Chisholm,
Alder.
Lammet,
Crab-Apple Tree.
Colquhoun,
Hazel.
M'Allister,
Five-leaved Heath.
Cummin,
Common Sallow.
M'Donald,
Bell Heath.
Drummond,
Holly.
M'Donnell,
Mountain Heath.
Farquharson,
Purple Fox Glove.
M'Dougall,
Cypress.
Ferguson,
Poplar.
M'Farlane,
Cloud Berry Bush.
Forbes,
Brown.
M'Gregor,
Pine.
Frazer,
Yew.
M'lntosli,
Boxwood.
Gordon,
Ivy.
M'Tvav,
Bulrush.
54
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Names.
Badges.
Names.
Badges.
M'Kenzie,
Deer Grass.
Menzies,
Ash.
M'Kinnan,
St. John's Wort.
Murray,
Juniper.
M'Lachlan,
Mountain Ash.
Ogilvie,
Hawthorn.
M'Lean,
Blackberry Heath.
Oliphant,
The great Maple.
M'Leod,
Red Whortle Berries
Robertson,
Fern or Brechins
M'Nab,
Rose Buck Berries.
Rose,
Brier Rose.
M'Neill,
Sea Ware.
Rose,
Bear Berries.
M'Pherson,
Variegated Boxwood
Sinclair,
Clover.
M'Quarrie,
Black Thorn.
Stewart,
Thistle.
M'Rae,
Fir Club Moss.
Sutherland,
Cat's-tail Grass.
Munro,
Eagle's Feathers.
The Chief of the Clans to have two Eagle feathers, with the badge of their
clan on their bonnets.
A List of the most considerable Chiefs in Scotland, with the number of men
they could raise in 1715, under the Earl of Mar.
/. signifies for the then government,
a. against it, n. neuter, m.
major part ,
r. in the rebellion.
DUKES.
MEN.
a. Linlithgow ....
300 r. m.
f. Hamilton
1000 f.
a. Hume
500 r.
f. Buccleugh ....
1000 f.
r. Perth
1500 r. m.
n. Gordon, 3000, a. m. most with the
r. Wigton
500 a. m.
Marq. Huntley, r.
a. Strathmore. . . .
300 a. r.
f. Argyle
4000 f. m.
f. Lauderdale ....
300 f.
f. Douglas
500 f.
r. Seaforth
3000 r. m.
f. Athol, a. m. 6000, a
m. with the
f. Dumfries
200 f.
Marq. Tullibardine, r.
r. Southesk
300 r.
f. Montrose ....
2000 a. m.
f. Weems
300 f.
f. Roxburgh ....
500 f.
n. Airly (Ogilvy) . . .
500 r. m.
MARQUIS.
a. Carnwath ....
300 r.
Annandale
500 f.
a. Panmure
500 r. m„
f. Kilmanock ....
300 f.
EARLS.
f. Dondonald ....
300 f.
n. Errol
500 a. m.
a. Breadalbin ....
2000 r. in.
a. r. Marischall . . .
500 a. m.
f. Sutherland ....
1000 f.
VISCOUNTS.
a. r. Mar
1000 r.
a. Stormont
300 a.
f. Rothes
500 f.
r. Kinmure
300 a. r.
f. Mortin .....
300 f.
LORDS.
f. Glencairn ....
300 f. m.
f. Forbes
500 f. m.
f. Eglington
300 f. m.
a. Lovat
800 a. in.
f. Cassilis
500 f.
f. Ross
500 f.
f. Murray
300 a. m.
f. Rae
500 f.
n. Cathress
500 a. m.
a. r. Nairn
1000 m. r.
a Nithsdale
300 r.
CLANS.
a. Wintoun
300 r.
a. Sir Dan. Macdonald .
1000 r.
THE REBELLIONS.
55
a. r. Glencary .
a. r. Clanronald.
a. r. Keppoch .
a. r. M'Intosh .
a. r. M'Gregor .
a. r. S.Robertson,
a. Macpherson. .
a. Sir Ed. Cameron
a. Sir J. Maclean .
500 a.
1000 a.
300 a.
1000 a.
500
f. Laird of Grant. .
a. Laird Appin. . .
n. M'Leod . . .
a. r. M'Kenning . .
a. r. Glenoo . . .
1000 f.
300 a. r.
1000 f.
200 a. m.
100 a. m.
100 a.
300 r.
500 a. r.
1000 a. r.
1000 a. m.
a. r. Glemoriston . .
M'Neil . . . .
a. r. Straglass. . . .
120 a. r.
100 a. r.
Having already traced the rebels that rose in Scotland,
through several stages to the battle of Dunblane, and from
thence to Aberdeen, where in their distress they were deserted
by the Pretender, and left to shift for themselves, we shall now
conduct those that took up arms in England to their defeat and
capture at Preston, in Lancashire.
The grand scheme having been concerted in London, a cor¬
respondence was established with the conspirators in the several
parts of Britain, not by letter, but by means of Colonel Oxburgh,
and several gentlemen, all Irish and Papists, riding from place
to place as travellers, who negociated the affair, and ripened
things to action. Their first public rising was on hearing that
warrants were come down to Northumberland, for the appre¬
hension of Lord Derwentwater and Mr. Forster, on which they
called a general meeting; and as they had no hopes of lying
concealed, and were in danger of separate commitments and
examinations, which would inevitably ruin the undertaking,
they resolved to appear in arms.
The next morning (Oct. 6) Mr. Forster, and about twenty
gentlemen met accordingly at Greenrig, and went to a rising
called the Waterfalls, from whence they could see any that
should come either to join or oppose them. They were soon
joined by Lord Derwentwater, who came that morning from his
seat at Dilston, with some friends and all his servants, mounted
on coach-horses and well armed. They were now about sixty
horsemen, and agreed to march to Plainfield, on the river Co¬
quet ; next morning their number still increasing, they proceeded
to Warwick, where they staid till the tenth; and Mr. Forster,
in disguise, after making a speech, proclaimed the Pretender;
thence they marched to Morpeth, and in their march received
considerable additions. At Felton bridge they were joined by
several Scotch horse, so that when they entered this place they
56
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
were three hundred strong, all horse; for they would entertain
no foot, because they could not provide them with arms. They
told the common people, who in great numbers offered to join
them, that they should soon have arms and ammunition, and
that they would form a regiment. This they hoped to have
made good, by the seizure of Newcastle.
About this time, Lancelot Errington, with a small party, had
surprised the castle in Holy Island; but the place was imme¬
diately retaken by a detachment from Berwick, sword in hand,
and Errington narrowly escaped with his life. From Morpeth
they approached Newcastle, but did not find things show to
their advantage; however, expecting to be master of it in a few
days, they marched in the mean time a little westward to Hex¬
ham; here they were joined by more Scotch horse, and from
thence marched to Dilston, with the intention of surprising
Newcastle, but went back again on receiving intelligence that
their design was discovered—that Lord Scarborough had en¬
tered the town with his friends, and the militia, and seven
hundred keelmen were arming: a battalion of foot, and part of
a regiment of dragoons, were also arrived by long marches from
Yorkshire, and Lieut. General Carpenter, who had been or¬
dered to go in pursuit of the rebels, arrived also at Newcastle,
on the 18th, with Hotham's foot, and Cobham's, Molesworth's,
and Churchill's dragoons. The rebels therefore departed from
Hexham on the 19th, having staid there three days, proclaimed
the Pretender, and seized all the arms and horses they could
lind. Just before the rebels left that place, they received ad¬
vice that Lord Kenmure, and other Scotch noblemen, had en¬
tered England with a considerable force to join them, and were
come to Rothbury ; upon which, by a forced march, they joined
him that night.
Next day the whole body marched to Wooler, in Northum¬
berland, where receiving intelligence that a detachment of High¬
landers had advanced to Dunse, they immediately marched for
Kelso, which they entered without opposition, and soon after
arrived the Highlanders, with old Brigadier Macintosh at their
head. Next morning they proclaimed the Pretender and read
a manifest of the Earl of Mar. They demanded here, as well
as at other places, the public revenues, and seized what arms
and ammunition they could find. The rebels now consisted
TIIE REBELLIONS.
57
of live Scotch troops of indifferent horse, tolerably well arm¬
ed, and six regiments of foot, and a considerable number of
what they called volunteers; these were commanded in chief
by Lord Kenmure; the English consisted also of live troops of
horse, not so well armed, and some volunteers, commanded in
chief by Lord Derwentwater,—the whole making about 1400
men.
Having continued at Kelso till Oct. 27, General Carpenter,
who was in pursuit of them, had leisure to concert his march.
He reached Wooler on the 27th, and intended to be at Kelso
the next day. Upon this the rebels called a council of war, in
which the Earl of Winton, as he had before done, pressed them
to return to the west of Scotland; but this was rejected by the
English. It was then proposed to pass the Tweed, and attack
the King's forces, while they were fatigued, they not amounting
to more than 500 men, whereof two regiments of dragoons
were newly raised, and had never seen service; but this wise
advice was likewise rejected, and no resolution taken, farther
than that they should go to Jedburgh, and there they staid till
the 29th. Having now an opportunity of getting the start of
General Carpenter by three days, it was resolved, in an evil
hour for them, to cross the mountains, and march into England.
In this march the Highlanders mutinied, and absolutely refused
to enter England, but were at length prevailed upon. Next
morning they went to the Langholm, and from thence sent a
strong detachment to block up Dumfries, which, being situated
by a navigable river, on the Irish Sea, maintains a very con¬
siderable trade with England, and the west of Scotland; had
they but persevered in this resolution, they would certainly
have made themselves masters of it, and might then have fur¬
nished themselves with arms, money, and ammunition, and have
opened a passage to Glasgow, one of the best towns in Scotland,
or to England. There they might have received the Highland
clans and gentlemen from the west, besides succours from
France and Ireland, no men-of-war being in those seas at the
time. Nothing could be a greater mark of their infatuation, or
of the interposition of Providence; for, instead of taking this op¬
portunity, they determined to come into Lancashire, and an
order was sent for the detachment to return, and meet the rest
of the enemy at Langtow n, in Cumberland.
58
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Here the Highlanders, sensible of the misconduct, halted a
second time; but were at length, by money and promises, pre¬
vailed with to go on, except about 800 who deserted, choosing
rather to surrender as prisoners than go forward to certain de¬
struction. The Earl of Winton also withdrew with his men,
but joined them again soon after, though much dissatisfied
with their measures. They left the small cannon they had
brought from Kelso, at Langholm, first nailing it up. They
proceeded then to Langtown, within seven miles of Carlisle;
next day they entered England, and marched to Brampton, a
small market town belonging to the Earl of Carlisle, and here
they proclaimed the Pretender. The Highlanders from this day
had sixpence a head to keep them in temper. They halted one
night at Brampton, to refresh the men, who had marched above
a hundred miles in five days. The following day they reached
Penrith. Here the sheriff and his posse, Lord Lonsdale, and
the Bishop of Carlisle, with 1400 men, met to oppose their
'march, but ran away with the greatest precipitation, on the ap¬
pearance of a few Highlanders sent only to reconnoitre. This
animated the rebels, and furnished them with some arms.
Nov. 3. Having staid at Penrith one night, proclaimed the
Pretender, and seized the public money, they marched to Ap¬
pleby; and next day proclaimed the Pretender; here again they
took possession of the public money. Thence they proceeded
to Kendal on the 5th, and on the 6th, to Kirby Lonsdale. Here
they were joined by some Lancashire Papists. On the 7th, they
marched to Lancaster, where they proclaimed the Pretender
with greater formality than usual, seized the public money, and
were joined by considerable numbers well armed, which greatly
animated the Highlanders, who received them with three cheers.
From Lancaster, the rebels marched to Preston, with the in¬
tention of possessing themselves of Warrington Bridge, and the
town of Manchester, where they expected great numbers to
join them, not doubting but by this means to get possession of
the great and rich town of Liverpool, which could receive relief
but by that bridge. Their horse accordingly reached Preston
that night, and the next day the foot. Two troops of Stanhope's
dragoons quitted the place on their approach, which much en¬
raged them. There they received a considerable reinforcement,
all Papists. The whole of this time they were so astonishingly
THE REBELLIONS.
59
stupid and negligent, as to be utterly ignorant that the King's
forces were ready to fall upon them; and when Mr. Forster
had given orders to march from Preston to Manchester, he
could scarce credit the report that General Willis was advancing
from Wigan to attack them; but was soon convinced of the
truth of it by messengers on all sides.
The alarm being now given, a party marched out of the town
to Ribble Bridge, and Mr. Forster, and a party of horse went
beyond it, to get a certain account of things; when discovering
the vanguard of the dragoons, he returned another way than
by the bridge, and sent orders immediately to prepare to receive
the King's troops, while he went to seek a ford in the river, in
order for a passage to come behind them. The rebel foot that
advanced to the bridge were a hundred stout well armed men,
commanded by a bold experienced officer, who would have de¬
fended the pass to the last drop of blood, till the rest of the
troops had withdrawn themselves out of the town. But this
party was ordered to retreat to Preston : another fatal step never
to be retrieved; for here alone they were in a condition to make
an effectual stand. General Willis, who expected their greatest
effort here, could not credit the advanced guard, who assured
him this post was abandoned; and when it was confirmed to
him on all hands, he suspected some stratagem. He therefore
proceeded with great caution; but finding all the hedges clear,
he concluded the enemy fled, and that they would by long
marches endeavour to get back into Scotland; but he soon found
they intended to receive him in the town.
While General Willis was making the necessary disposition
for the attack, the rebels were barricading the streets, lanes,
and houses, forming four main barriers, one a little below the
church, defended by Brigadier Macintosh, one at the end of a
lane into the fields, supported by Lord Charles Murray; an¬
other, called the Wind-Mills, by Colonel Macintosh ; and the
fourth in the street leading towards Liverpool, by Major Muller
and Mr. Douglas. An obstinate engagement presently ensued,
the rebels several times repulsing the King's troops, who as
often returned to the charge. But the rebels learning at length,
from prisoners, that Lord Carpenter was on the point of joining
General Willis, with three regiments of dragoons, and finding,
GO
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
contrary to the assurance of their leaders, and their own ex¬
pectation, that not a man of the King's troops had joined them,
they began to open their eyes, and perceived nothing but in¬
evitable destruction before them; and that the most they could
hope for, was to obtain a capitulation, and terms for their lives.
While their spirits were thus failing them, the attack was
renewed with great vigour by the united force of the Generals
Willis and Carpenter, and the rebels, to complete their despair,
found their gunpowder fail them. In this dilemma the rebels
were for rallying out sword in hand; hut this motion was over¬
ruled, and General Forster, prevailed on by Lord Weddrington,
and Colonel Oxburgh, resolved on a capitulation.
Oxburgh pretending acquaintance with some of the King's
officers, offered to go out and treat for a surrender; this was
done without the knowledge of the rebels, who were told that
General Willis had sent to offer honourable terms to them, if
they would lay down their arms. The Colonel, with a trumpet,
went out to General Willis, and all the answer he could procure
was, that they must submit to the King's mercy, for that no
terms could be made with rebels. On his carrying the answer
into the town, Captain Dalsie was sent to desire a short time
to consider of it, which was granted, and on General Willis's
sending for their final answer, they pretended a dispute between
the Scotch and the English, and desired a cessation till next
morning at seven o'clock to reconcile them. This was granted,
on condition that no new entrenchment should be thrown up,
that they suffered none of their people to escape, and that they
sent out the chiefs of the English and Scots as hostages. Lord
Derwentwater accordingly came out as one of the hostages. Next
day Mr. Forster went out to acquaint General Willis they were
ready to surrender at discretion, as he had demanded ; but
Macintosh being by, said that he would not answer that the
Scotch would surrender in that manner; to which Willis replied
that they might then go back, and make the best defence they
could, and the consequence would be, that he would not spare
a man of them, if they fell into his hands.—Macintosh then
went back, but presently returned in great haste, crying that the
Lord Kinmure and the rest of the .Scotch would surrender on
the same terms with the other troops. Thus they were all
TIIE REBELLIONS.
61
made prisoners, the next morning at seven o'clock, being the
14th of November; and thus an end put at once to the re¬
bellion which had made such rapid advances.
The memorable 'Forty-five.'—The national tranquillity was
again disturbed in the reign of George II., A. D. 1745* by
another adventurer. This was the son of the old Pretender,
and commonly called the young Pretender. This aspiring
claimant landed in Scotland, and the boldness of the enterprise
astonished all Europe. After gaining some trifling advantages
over the Ring's forces, he made an irruption into England, and,
for a short time, greatly alarmed the pusillanimous part of the
nation. Retreating northwards, he was at length totally de¬
feated by the Duke of Cumberland, in the battle of Culloden,
near Inverness, in 1746. Immediately after the engagement,
the Pretender sought safety by flight. He continued wander¬
ing among the wilds of Scotland,* for nearly six months; and
as thirty thousand pounds were offered for taking him, he was
constantly pursued by the troops of the conqueror, and often
hemmed round by them, but still rescued by some lucky ac¬
cident from the impending danger; at length he escaped
from the isle of Uist to Morlaix. In the mean time the scaffold
and gibbets were preparing for his adherents, many of whom
were hanged in the neighbourhood of London and other parts.
The Earl of Kilmarnoch and the Lords Ralmerino and Lovat
were beheaded on Tower-hill. Thus terminated the last efforts
of the Stuarts for reascending the throne, and all pretentions
are now for ever extinguished in the demise of the late Cardinal
York, at llome.y
* At Port Ree in the isle of Skye, his shoes were worn out, and a friend fur¬
nished him with a new pair, and kept the old ones till his own death, when, as
Boswell informs us, in his Journal, a zealous Jacobite gave twenty guineas for
them.
f A Mr. Watson was stated some years ago to he the proprietor of the archives
of the Stuart family, which he discovered, and bought of M. Tassoui, the Pope's
auditor, and executor to the will of the late Cardinal York, the last of the Stuart
race. These papers were brought from Civita Vecchia to England in two British
men-of-war. They are numerous, authentic and very valuable—being es¬
timated at half a million. They illustrate every thing obscure in the history of
the last Stuarts, and throw new lights on the literature, the history and politics
of the most interesting period of modern times. In the literary part is a cor¬
respondence between King James and Fenelon, Swift, the Bishop of Rochester,
62
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
The first authentic account received in England of the land¬
ing of the young Pretender mentioned the circumstance only as
a probability. For many weeks the thing was laughed at in all
companies; General Cope's march was looked upon as a pa¬
rade of triumph rather than an enterprise of danger; and the
public in idea again saw the roads crowded with rebellious
chains, and the gibbets loaded with Highlanders. Their march
southwards was the first step that transpired, and people rather
laughed than were alarmed at the seizure of Perth by the rebels;
and so very wise and sanguine, at the time, were the coffee¬
house politicians, that Sir John Cope's passing them, was ex¬
tolled as a master-piece of mijitary stratagem, since the small
band of desperate rebels were now betwixt two fires—not a
single rebel would be able to escape, and all the difficulty was
where to find prisons sufficient to stow them away, when they
should throw themselves on the mercy of the government.
Those pleasing ideas were heightened and encouraged by a
loyal address from the city of Edinburgh, which was presented
in a manner in the very teeth of the rebellion, and the dutiful
flourishes of the gallant volunteers, who were to " cock up the
Pretender's beaver." But the most animating accounts published
by authority a few days before the fatal action of Gladsmuir
were, that the rebels were not above " 3000 naked, needy, mi¬
serable wretches, and that their numbers were rather diminish¬
ing than increasing." After such assurances, it was looked upon
to be the height of folly and madness, not without a small spice
of disloyalty, to doubt of their utter ruin in a very few days.
Every post brought accounts of their cowardice, their de¬
sertions, their unruliness ; nay, the very mention of the King's
troops had made them scamper. It turned out, however, in the
end, that the foe was not such a wretched body as had been
represented, and the people soon saw how fatally they had been
deluded; still it was hoped they would dissipate upon their first
march of GeneralWade. But how were they undeceived when
more recent and authentic accounts swelled the numbers of the
followers of the young Pretender, to 8,10, as far as 11,000 men;
Lord Bolingbroke, Marshal Keith, and other equally celebrated personages. In
the political part, there are above six thousand autographs of the Stuart family,
as well asa great number of letters from Charles XII., Peter the Great, Louis XIV.,
and almost all the sovereigns in Europe.
THE REBELLIONS.
63
and that they had even dared to enter England at a time w hen
there were upward of 60,000 men under arms to oppose them.
The subsequent operations will be better seen by the following
extracts from the Public Prints.
Aug. 1, 1745.—The following article, dated from Paris,
July 19, O. S. appeared in the London newspapers of this date.
—The Pretender's eldest son put to sea, July 14, from Belle-
Isle (others say Nantz), in an armed ship of 60 guns, provided
with a large quantity of warlike stores, together with a frigate
of 30 guns (others 18) in order to land in Scotland, where he
would find 20,000 men and 40 transport ships, &c. at his dis¬
posal, to make good his pretensions to the crown of Great
Britain; he was to be joined by live ships of the line from Brest,
and 4,500 Spaniards who were embarking at Ferrol.
Hague, July 30.—Several foreign ministers have an ac¬
count ihat a principal officer of the French Navy had been se¬
veral months raising, on pretence for the India service, 100
men. They were called " Grassins de Mer," were clothed in
blue faced with red, and embarked at Port Lazaro in Britany,
on July 14, on board a frigate of 18 guns, in which was the
Pretender's eldest son, who came incog, from Normandy, and
about 50 Scotsand Irish. The frigate was joined off' Belle-Isle
by the Elizabeth of 66 guns. He intended to go round Ireland
and land in Scotland, but was met on the 20th by some English
merchant ships convoyed by three ships of war, and of which,
the Lion, bore down upon the Elizabeth and attacked her.
Upon which the Pretender sailed away in the frigate. The light
lasted nine hours, but night coming on, the Elizabeth, quite dis¬
abled, got away to Brest, the captain and 64 men killed, 136 dan¬
gerously, wounded and a greater number slightly. She had on
board £400,000 sterling and arms for several thousand men.
The French court pretend to know nothing more of the affair, than
that this person had sent a letter to complain of being neglected
by them, but adding, that he would hazard his life in trying his
father's faithful subjects rather than return to Rome.
Aug. 7.—A proclamation was issued, ordering a reward ol
.£30,000 for apprehending the eldest son of the Pretender and
the like in Ireland.
Aug. 11.—Was committed to Edinburgh goal, by warrant
of his Majesty's advocate, Hex. Fraser, some time servant to
64
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
John Drummond, Captain in the French service, and John Mac-
leod, lately come from Holland, as guilty of treason.
Aug. 22.—A letter from Inverness, dated August 16th,
says, " several of the Camerons and Macdonalds are in arms,
but there are no foreign forces, or councils among 'em; so that
any commotion these madmen occasion, must very soon be
quashed. Sir Alexander Macdonald dined on Monday last
with the Lord President and the Laird of Macleod, and gave all
assurances, that neither he nor any of his people shall aid or
abet the invaders of our country." On the contrary, another
letter says, " that a body of 24 of the rebels came lately into
the country of Ranerch, and would have carried along with them
100 men of the inhabitants, in order to make them accomplices,
with the same ease as they use to drive off the cattle, and that a
detachment of them have taken a captain of the army two miles
from Fort Augustus. Their numbers are uncertain, as they
stand dispersed for want of provisions in any one place. It were
wished they were twice as numerous as they are, that they might
be necessitated to eat up one another. However, they must be
starved to death with cold, having nothing to cover them but
the canopy of heaven.
Another letter says, " the young Chevalier is certainly landed
in the Highlands with about 40 men, and is seemingly joined by
500 clans, commanded by General Macdonnel, uncle to the Earl
of Antrim; that a detachment of the last week come down to
Ranerch, carried along with them several people to accompany
them in their distracted purposes to the hills."
Two letters from Fort Augustus and Fort William, of the
14th and 10th inst. insinuate apprehensions of a speedy visit
from the rebels. Among the reports current one is, that
they have erected a standard with the motto—' Tandem Trium-
phans.'
Sept. 1.—A letter dated the 24th past, from a person of
distinction in the north-west of Scotland, says, two companies
of St. Clair's and Murray's, going between Fort Augustus and
Fort William, were attacked by a body of Highlanders. It was
a bloody battle : but the soldiers having spent all their ammu¬
nition, which was eleven charges, were attacked in front, flank
and rear, and obliged to surrender prisoners, after the loss of
a good number on each side. Captain Scot was wounded in
THE REBELLIONS. 65
the action. Captain Sweetinan of Guise's regiment, who was
taken prisoner by the Highlanders, went post through Leeds
for London on Thursday se'nnight. He was seized by eight
persons at an inn in the Highlands, where he went to call for a
dram, and carried to the Pretender's camp, who treated him very
civilly, suffered him to go away on his parole, gave him a ma¬
nifesto and a passport directed to all sheriffs, sheriffs' deputies,
constables, &c. in Scotland, and signed Charles Pr. Custos
Regni. The captain said he supposed the rebels to be about
1,800 strong : that a nobleman's brother was standard bearer :
that except the Macdonalds of Clanronald, of Kappach and
Glengarry, and of Lintochmoidart, the Camerons of Lochyell,
and the Stuarts of Appin, there are none of the clans in person
with the young Chevalier, but about 2,500 of their men, not
all armed: and that General Cope would be up with the rebels
about the 27th ult.
One of the Pretender's printed manifestos is dated 1743,
when the last invasion was intended; and the other in 1745,
in which he declares his son Regent for Scotland; and makes
large promises for securing the Scots in their rights and li¬
berties, of dissolving the union, and taking off the malt tax.
Sept. 4.—A detachment of the rebels took possession of
Perth, and proclaimed the Pretender the same evening; but the
provost and magistrates had left the place before the proclama¬
tion began, and others were appointed in the room. The rebels
were joined at Perth, by the Duke of Perth, Lord George
Murray, brother to the Duke of Athol, the Hon. William Mur¬
ray, Esq. *, the Lord Nairn, Messrs. Oliphant, of Gask, elder
and younger, and several other disaffected gentlemen. George
Kelly, Esq., who was committed to the Tower with the late
Bishop of Rochester, in 1721, and made his escape some time
since, is made captain of a company of rebels.
Sept. 7.—The rebels proclaimed the Chevalier at Dundee,
searched the whole town for horses and arms, levied the public
money, giving receipts for the same, and carried up the ship of
Captain William Graham, of Perth, from the road of Dundee,
to Perth, supposing her to have gunpowder on board.
Sept. 17.—A proclamation was published by the Lord Mayor
of Dublin, in which the city offers £6,000 for apprehending the
Pretender or his son, if either of them should attempt to land in
5
GG
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Ireland. Several regiments of horse and foot are to be speedily
raised in this kingdom.
Sept. 20.—On advice at five this morning, that the rebels
were in full march that way to the number of 5,000, having left
2,000 in Edinburgh—the Mayor of Newcastle summoned all the
inhabitants to appear at Guildhall, where he made a speech to
them, desiring all who were willing to stand by the town to
subscribe their names to a paper, which 3,000 did. They are
now under arms. All the town gates are built up with a stone
wall two yards thick, except Newgate, Sandgate, and the Bridge.
General Cope is about seven miles from the rebels, with
2000 regular foot, 900 Highlanders, and two regiments of
dragoons.
Sept. 21.—The rebels left Perth on the 11th, and marched
that day to Dunblain, 20 miles; the next day they only marched
two miles, to Down; and on Tuesday, the 13th, they passed the
Forth, at the Forth at Trews, five miles above Stirling: they
then seemed to direct their march towards Glasgow; but on
the 14th, in the morning, they turned eastward, and marched
by Falkirk towards Edinburgh; and when the letters on the 16lh
came away, were within a few miles of that city.—On the 16th,
in the afternoon, Brigadier Fowkes marched to Preston-Pans,
six miles east of Edinburgh, with two regiments of dragoons,
in order to join Sir John Cope, who was just arrived from
Aberdeen, where he had embarked, and was then making a dis¬
position to land the troops under his command at Dunbar,
eighteen miles cast of Edinburgh, the wind not being then fair
to carry the transports up to Leith. By letters of the 18ih, the
rebels had taken possession of the town, and proclaimed the
Pretender there on the 17th.—General Guest, who commanded
at Edinburgh, had retired into the castle, where the public of¬
ficers and inhabitants had secured their most valuable effects,
and General Cope being joined by the two regiments of dra¬
goons, was on his march the 13th, towards Edinburgh.
Sept. 16.—Friday last, we learnt that 300 of the Highland
host having advanced up to the bridge of Stirling, as if de¬
signed to force their passage, General Blakeney, at the head
of [part of] Gardiner's dragoons, fired several shots at them,
which the Highlanders returned : in the mean time their main
body crossed the Forth at different fords above Stirling. Here-
THE REBELLIONS.
upon General Blakeney, to avoid being surrounded, marched
his dragoons down to Falkirk.—The Lord Provost and magis¬
trates of Edinburgh were immediately convened and the cannon
of the city arsenal brought out; the gentlemen volunteers
mounted guard at the Exchequer, as did the new regiment in
the Justiciary Hall; and the whole of the inhabitants were on
the alert. On Saturday, we heard that the Highlanders had
entered the town of Stirling, and that the young Chevalier had
been the first who put foot in the water, and waded through
the Forth at the head of his detachment.— That day and yester¬
day were wholly employed in completing the scaffolding upon
the ramparts, erecting palisades and barricades at the several
gates. The cannon, having been proved by a double charge and
ball, in presence of the magistrates, were ordered to be directly
planted on the bastions and proper places.—Yesterday morn¬
ing the affair turned a little more serious upon our hand; we
were assured that the Highlanders were arrived (at least their
vanguard) at Linlithgow, twelve miles west of this metropolis :
this being confirmed, and reports spreading that detachments
of them were coming down as far as Kirkleston, Warnsburgh,
and Gogan, five or six miles distant; and as Colonel Gardiner's
dragoons were then under arms at Corstorphine, two miles
west of us, at eleven o'clock the fire-bell of this city was
rung, in order to alarm and arm the inhabitants ; and at twelve
o'clock General Hamilton's regiment of dragoons decamped
from Leith Links, in order to join Colonel Gardiner's regiment
at Corstorphine; they galloped through the city in most high
spirits, brandishing their swords and huzzaing; the gentlemen
of the association of this city received them under arms with
loud huzzas, as did the city guard.—Immediately after, all the
city guard, headed by four captains, &c. marched out of town,
as did a body of the gentlemen volunteers, in order to flank or
file with the dragoons as occasion should offer, for want of
military foot.—At the same time the new city regiment was put
under arms all day and night.—About nine o'clock yesternight,
the above two regiments of dragoons returned to this side of
the Coltbridge, and continued under arms all night, as did the
city guard.—We were very quiet all night, and heard nothing
certain of the march of the Highlanders.—It was indeed this
5 *
68
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
morning said, that a body of them had entered Borostonress
yesterday, carried off some barrels of powder, arms, and other
things. That a detachment of them had come down to Kirk¬
liston water, and that the main body was near the house of
Kopton.—His Grace the Duke of Buccleuch's doers have sent
into this place a great many of his grace's tenants and de¬
pendents, in order to defend the city; and yesterday Sir Robert
Dickson, of Carberry, ordered 200 of his people for the same
purpose. The magistracy, especially the Lord Provost, are in¬
defatigable in providing for the defence of the government and
security of the city, and scarce get sleep or rest two hours of
the twenty-four. All this night they were assembled in council,
and the whole inhabitants were under arms.—Several sus¬
pected people, who had come into town, have been taken up as
suspected, and some as spies, particularly David Graham, de¬
signated servant to Mr. Norwell, of Boghall, and who has been
seized on suspicion of high treason, as reconnoitring the troops
here, and dispersing manifestos.
We have just now heard, that between six and seven this
morning, a detachment of the Highlanders was seen marching
down Dundas hill, and another crossing Kirkliston water, making
hither, so that we are apprehensive of a visit. Meantime the
whole city is in arms, and ready to give them a warm reception.
The Caledonian Mercury of the 17th, relates that the night
before the magistrates being met, a petition was presented,
desiring them to consult the welfare of the city; and that a
letter from the pretended regent was produced, informing them
that he was come to enter his beloved metropolis of Scotland;
upon which it was resolved, that as the King's dragoons were
retired, and the President of the Sessions was absent, a depu¬
tation should be sent out, which was done; the agreement
made was not known; but early in the morning 1000 High¬
landers peaceably entered the city. Soon after their master
came in a Highland habit, and went to Holyrood Palace, where
he changed his dress, and the pursuivants being sent for, and
clothed, they proclaimed the Pretender. The writer adds, that
the arms delivered to the inhabitants were returned to the
castle; that (only seizing the sentinels) their new guests behaved
THE REBELLIONS.
GO
well, paying for what they wanted; all was quiet, the tradesmen
went regularly on in their business.
Sept. 24.—By an express arrived this morning, we are
informed that Sir John Cope, with the troops under his com¬
mand, were attacked by the rebels on the 21st instant at day¬
break, at Preston, near Seaton, 7 miles from Edinburgh; that
the King's troops were defeated, and that Sir John Cope, with
about 486 dragoons, had retired to Lauder. Brigadier Fowkes,
and Colonel Lascelles, had got to Dunbar. The Earls of
Loudon and Hume, and some of the gentlemen volunteers were
at Lauder with Sir John Cope.
Sept. 28.—By letters from Berwick of the 23d and 24th,
we are informed, that about 500 of the dragoons, under Sir
John Cope, were then there; that some of the foot had likewise
got to that place, and others were gone to Carlisle, and that
La Roque's regiment of Dutch troops landed there on the 23d
in the morning.—That the rebels, after the late action, lay for
some time at Dudingston and Musselburgh, near Edinburgh,
and then returned to that city; since which there were no
certain accounts of their motions. Among the principal officers
killed is Colonel Gardiner.
The following is the Rebels' account of the battle of Glads-
muir;* as published in the Caledonian Mercury, at Edinburgh,
by authority.
" Sept. 21.—The Grants of Glenmoriston joined this army
yesterday. That morning the Prince put himself at the head of
the army at Duddingston, and presenting his sword, said, 'My
friends, I have flung away the scabbard.' This was answered
by a cheerful huzza.—The army marched and drew up on
Carberry-hill, where we learned that General Cope had fallen
* 'Tis computed above 500 of the enemy was killed, and 900 wounded, and
that we have taken about 1400 prisoners. All their cannon, mortars, several
colour's, standards, abundance of horses and arms, were taken; as was all their
baggage, equipage, &c. The Prince, as soon as victory declared lor him,
mounted his horse, and put a stop to the slaughter; and finding no surgeons
amongst the enemy, dispatched an officer to Edinburgh, with orders to bring all
the surgeons they could find, to attend; which was accordingly done,
By statements on the opposite side, the Pretender's forces were computed a*
51)00 strong.
70
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
down into the low country, east of Preston-Pans. This directed
our march along the brow of the hill, till we descried the enemy;
upon which the Highlanders gave a shout by way of defiance,
expressing such eagerness to run down upon them, that nothing
less than authority could restrain them from coming to action
directly.
" Some gentlemen went out to observe their camp and re¬
connoitre the ground, while the army advanced, till it came
opposite to, and at half a mile's distance from the enemy. These
gentlemen returning, informed that they had got into a fastness,
having a very broad and deep ditch in front, the town of Pres¬
ton on the right, some houses and a small morass on the left
and the Firth or Forth on the rear. This made it impracticable
to attack them in front, but at the greatest risk.
" That evening Mr. Cope discharged several cannon at us. A
gentleman who had seen their anny that day advised us, that
they were above 4000 strong, besides volunteers, seceders, &c.
from Edinburgh, and several gentlemen at the head of their te¬
nants ; that General Hamilton's dragoons stood on their right,
Colonel Gardiner's on their left; the regiments of Lascelles and
Murray, live companies of Lee's, four of Guise's, three of the
Earl of Loudon's, and a number of recruits for regiments abroad
and at home formed the centre ; and that they were all in top
spirits.
"About three in the morning of Saturday, the 21st, we got
off the ground, and marched eastward; then turning north,
formed a line to prevent the enemy's retreat through the east
country, while another body of men were posted to provide
against their stealing a march upon us towards Edinburgh.
" The disposition of the attack being made, the Prince made a
short speech to his people ; after which he marched to engage
them thus: The right wing was commanded by the Duke of
Perth, a lieutenant-general, and consisted of the battalions of
Glengary, Clanronald, Keppoch, and Glenco. The left by Lieu-
tenant-General Lord George Murray, consisting of the Camerons
of Lochyel, the Duke of Perth's battalions, Ardshiel's, the Mac-
gregors, &c. The right wing in the march extended itself so
far towards the sea, that being arrived in a hollow they could
not ohserve the enemy was drawn up, til! our left was actually
THE REBELLIONS.
71
engaged, which exposed our left to the flank fire of the enemy ;
upon which also their artillery played, but did no other mischief
than carrying off the calf of a gentleman's leg.
"The signal having been given to form and attack, nothing
could parallel the celerity and dexterousness with which the
Highlanders performed that motion, except the courage and
ardour with which they afterwards fought; and pulling off their
bonnets, looking up to heaven, they made a short prayer, and
ran forward. They received a very full fire from right to left of
the enemy, which killed several; but advancing up, they dis¬
charged and then threw down their muskets, and drawing their
broad swords, gave a most frightful and hideous shout, rushing
most furiously upon the enemy; so that in seven or eight mi¬
nutes both horse and foot were totally routed and drove from
the field of battle; though it must be owned that the enemy
fought very gallantly; but they could not withstand the impe¬
tuosity, or rather fury of the Highlanders, and were forced to
run when they could no longer resist.
" Some dragoons formed soon after on a neighbouring emi¬
nence ; but observing our men marching to attack them, lied to
Dalkeith; others took shelter in the neighbouring villages; others
got to Leith; Major Crawfield rode up to the castle of Edin¬
burgh; and was followed by a few dragoons. We know not
what became of General Cope.
" The second line, which was commanded by Lord Nairn,
and consisted of the Athol men, Strowman's people, and Maeh-
lachlans, &c. could not come up to have a share of the honour.
" We had killed on the foot in this battle of Giadsmuir, near
Seaton-house, Captain Robert Stuart, of Ardshiefs battalion;
Captain Archibald Macdonald, of Keppoch's ; Lieutenant Allan
Cameron, of Lindevra; and Ensign James Cameron, of Lochyefs
regiment.
"Captain James Drummond, alias Macgregor, of the Duke of
Perth's regiment, was mortally wounded. About 30 private
men killed, and 70 or 80 wounded.
"The enemy had killed, Colonel Gardiner, Captains John
Stuart of Phisgill, Rogers and Bishop, and Ensign Forbes."
From the journal of Sir John Cope, relative to the conse¬
quences and result of the Battle of Giadsmuir, we extract the
72
TIIE ENGLISIPAND SCOTS,
following apologetical remarks for the conduct of his troops on
this occasion.
" We marched from Dunbar* on the 19th towards Edin¬
burgh ; we encamped that night upon the field western of Had¬
dington, and set out from thence early next morning. On this
day's march we had frequent intelligence brought, that the
rebels were advancing towards us with their whole body, with
a quick pace. We could not therefore get to the ground it was
intended we should, having still some miles to march through a
country, some part of which was interlined with walls. The
general therefore thought it proper to choose the first open
ground he found, and a better spot could not have been chosen
for the cavalry to act in. We got out of the defiles in our way,
and came to this ground just in time before the enemy got up
to us.
" We had no sooner completed our dispositions and got our
little army formed in excellent order, when the rebels appeared
upon the high ground south of us. We then formed a full front
to theirs, prepared either to wait their coming to us, or to take
the first advantage for attacking them. During this interval we
exchanged several huzzas with them, and probably from their
not liking our disposition they began to alter their own. They
made a large detachment to their left towards Preston (as we
imagined) in order to take us in fiank, their number being vastly
superior to ours.
" Our general having upon this, with several of the officers,
reconnoitred their design, immediately caused us to change our
front, forming us with our right to the sea, and our left where
our front had been: this disposition disappointed their project
of taking us in flank, and that part of their army immediately
counter-marched back again.
The night coming on, and the enemy so near, we could only
content ourselves with a small train of six gallopers, to throw a
few shot amongst an advanced party of theirs who had taken
* Cope, after encountering many hardships and difficulties, got to Dunbar
afterthe 16th September, and all the troops were landed there on the 17th and
the artillery on the 18th, on the first and nearest place they could land on the
south side of the Forth. Here they received the news of the city of Edinburgh
having been given lip to the rebels on the 17th.
THE REBELLIONS.
73
possession of the churchyard of Tranent, that lay between their
front and ours.
" Till about three in the morning, of a very dark night, our
patroles could scarce perceive any motion they made, every
thing seemed so quiet; but about this hour the patroles reported
them to be in full march towards the east; at four they reported
that they were continuing their march north-east. From this it
appeared, that they designed to attack our left flank with their
main body; and upon the general's being confirmed that this
was their intention, he made a disposition in less time than one
would think it possible, in which he brought our front to theirs,
and secured our flanks by several dikes on our right, towards
Tranent, with our left flank inclining to the sea.
"The moment this disposition was completed, three large
bodies in columns, of their picked-out Highlanders, came in a-
pace, though in a collected body, with great swiftness. And
the column which was advancing towards our right, where our
train was posted, after receiving the discharge of a few pieces,
almost in an instant, and before day broke, seized the train, and
threw into the utmost confusion a body of about 100 foot of
ours, who was posted there to guard it.
" All remedies, in every shape, were tried by the general,
brigadier Fowke, the earls Loudon and Hume, and the oflicers
about them, to remedy this disorder, but in vain. This, un¬
happily, with the fire made (though a very irregular one) by
the Highland column on our right, struck such a panic into the
dragoons, that in a moment they fled and left Gardiner, their
colonel (who was heard to call upon them to stand), to receive
the wounds which left him on the field. His lieutenant-colonel,
Woitney, while within his horse's length of them, coming up
with his squadron to attack them, received a shot which shat¬
tered his arm, and was left by his squadron too. And from this
example, the whole body became possessed with the same fatal
dread, so that it became utterly impossible for the general, or
any one of the best intentioned of his officers, either to put an
end to their fears, or stop their flight, though he and they did
all that was in the power of men to do, and in doing it, exposed
themselves in such a manner to the fire of the rebels, that I
cannot account for their escaping in any other way, but that all
of it was aimed at the run-away dragoons, who, in spite of all
74
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
endeavours to stop them, ran away from the field, through the
town of Preston; Gardiner's by the defile which passes by his
house, which was in our rear on the right, and Hamilton's by
one on our left, north of the house of Preston.
" At the west end of the town of Preston, the general, with
the earls Loudon and Hume, stopped and endeavoured by all
possible means to form and bring them back to charge the enemy
now in disorder on the pursuit, but to no purpose. Upon which,
he put himself at their head, and made a retreat leisurely,
towards the road leading south from Edinburgh, to Gingle-
Kirk, and thereby kept a body of about 450 of them together,
and carried them into Berwick next day.
" Brigadier Fowke, seeing things in this extremity with the
dragoons, and hearing of several discharges in his rear, gal¬
loped towards it, believing that it came from a body of our foot,
who might be still maintaining their ground, hoping by them to
retrieve the fortune of the day; he was mistaken, it was the
rebels, the smoke of their fire, and the little day-light prevented
his discovering who they were, till he was close upon the right
flank of their main body ; and he must have fallen into their
hands, if Captain Wedderburn, a foot officer of ours, had not
called out aloud to him to apprize him of his danger.
" I am told, that Colonel Lascelles behaved very gallantly.
Being deserted by his men, he fell into the enemy's hands upon
the Held; but in the hurry they were in, he found means to
make his escape eastward, and got safe to Berwick.
" I do not mention the behaviour of the officers; I saw a
good many of them exerting themselves to rally the dragoons,
before they entered the defiles through which they fled from the
field. In general, I have not heard one single suggestion against
any one man, who had the honour to carry the King's commis¬
sion either in the dragoons or foot, as if he had not done his
duty. Neither officers nor general can divest men of dread and
panic when it seizes them; he only can do that who makes the
heart of man. To their being struck with a most unreasonable
panic, and to no one thing else, the disgraceful event was owing.
The ground was to our wish, the disposition was unexception¬
able, and we were fully formed.
" I know you will expect that I should inform you what w ere
the number on both sides in the action.—Of our side, 1 am
THE REBELLIONS.
convinced we were not above 1,500 men who should have
fought. As to them, it was so dark when they came to attack
us, that I could only perceive them like a black hedge moving
towards us. Some people magnify their numbers, others en¬
deavour to lessen them; but by the best accounts and the most
to be depended upon (which I have been able to get), they were
not less than 5,000 men."
The following details of the motions of the rebels are ex¬
tracted from the London Gazette and provincial Newspapers.
Oct. 30.—There are advices from Berwick of the 25th at
night, that the carriages which the rebels had demanded from
different places, all came into Edinburgh upon the 22d and 23d,
but were immediately dismissed ; and the people belonging to
them were told, they should have some days1 notice before their
march to get them ready again. Upon the 22d they had a
general review between Leith and Edinburgh. Upon the 26th
Glenbucket's and the Athol men marched to Musselburgh, and
gave out they were to stay there till further orders. The rebels
seemed to be packing up their baggage upon that day, and their
cannon, consisting of seven pieces, were sent to the Eastward.
A detachment of 5 or GOO of their men was stationed at Alloway,
at a narrow passage upon the Firth, where they were erecting
a battery to secure a passage, and building fiat-bottomed boats
for bringing over their arms, &c., landed at Montross and Stone¬
haven. The Ludlow and Fox men of war were in the road of
Leith. It was reported, that the rebels had great differences
amongst themselves. They had a small camp upon the plain
between Inverosk and Dalkeith. Lord Loudon was at Inver¬
ness with a good number of men, and had, by those accounts,
been joined by the Sutherland people, the Monroes, &c. The
Campbells of Argyleshire were said to be in arms for the king,
and encamped at Inverary. Other letters mention, that John
Campbell, Esq. Lieut. Col. to Lord Loudon's Highland regiment,
had, with three companies thereof, attacked, disarmed, and dis¬
persed 700 of the Macleans, who were upon their march to join
the rebels near Edinburgh. General Blakeney and his men, in
Stirling castle, were all well. Marshal Wade was at Newcastle
upon the 29th, with all the troops from Doncaster, excepting
those from Ireland, which are one day's march behind. The
70
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
seven battalions from Flanders were all safe arrived at New¬
castle and Berwick, together with the seven companies of
Brackel's regiment, Dutch, which had been left in Holland.
Nov. 4.—By letters from the North of the 31st of last month,
there is an account, that the rebels continue to seize on all the
horses, forage, and provision, they can find between Berwick
and Edinburgh, in order to distress his Majesty's troops on their
march. Their counsels are so various and fluctuating, that
they frequently contradict and countermand the orders of the
preceding day; they plunder the country, and raise all the ready
money they can lay their hands on from the collectors of cess,
customs, and excise, in the distribution of which to their chiefs
and superiors, few or none are contented with their proportion,
and consequently there are great jealousies and ill blood amongst
them. Marshal Wade proposed to march towards Berwick
yesterday or to-day. On Saturday, the 26th of last month,
the main body of the rebels having almost entirely evacuated
Edinburgh and Leith, pitched their tents to the west of Inverask
church. They had seven or eight pieces of cannon pointed
South-West, placed on the South-West of their camp. Their
sick, and some of their baggage, were sent to the westward.
They had ordered 100 light waggons, and a number of baskets
for carrying on horseback, to be made; and from the gentlemen
and farmers in the shire of East Lothian, had got between six
and seven hundred of their best working horses. They had
taken possession of a place on the Forth called Haigen's Nook,
some miles below Stirling, and had placed a battery on both
sides the Forth at that place, to keep off the men of war's boats
that might hinder their crossing. One of these batteries con¬
sisted of six, the other of five pieces of cannon.
Nov. 5.—-The freshest intelligence from Scotland mentions
the arrival of four ships in all, in the North ports of that king¬
dom, with arms, &c., for the use of the rebels, viz, one at
Montrose, two at Stone Hyve, and the fourth at Dunatyr. That
the cargo of the first was carried South in eighty-five carts;
$nd that of two others in more than a hundred, drawn each by
two horses. That they brought some brass cannon, and one
piece of five-inch bore, with some gunners and officers. That
the small arms of the first cargo were carried part to Dunkeld,
^nd part to Perth, being intended for the Athol men and Mac
THE REBELLIONS.
77
Donalds, and all the rest were gone forward towards Edin¬
burgh. That half of Lord Ogilvy's men had deserted; and
that a party of the rebels in Angus was employed in forcing
them to return, and Lord Strathmore's men to join them,
threatening to burn their houses in case of refusal; whereupon
many of the country people were gone out of the way. That
the rebels had small parties in the passes upon the road to In¬
verness, who searched all passengers, and about forty men at
Perth to guard the officers who are prisoners there; that the
rebels, who remained encamped at Dalkeith the 31st past, had
received 1000 recuits, being the most part Athol men, with some
few of the Gordons. That the carts which went west from
Edinburgh the week before with the sick and wounded, carried
likewise some chests of arms, which were distributed amongst
those recruits, upon their coming to the South side of the Forth.
That late at night, on the 31 st, about 400 of their men came to
Dalkeith camp from Allowa, and brought with them six pieces
of brass cannon, much of the same size with those they had
taken at Preston. That they had with them above 100 carts
loaded, partly with chests, and partly with biscuit, and 12 or 16
French engineers.
Nov. 5.—By letters of the 3d inst. from Berwick, there are
accounts, that upon the 27th past a party of the rebels had been
at Glasgow to demand the old subsidy for the tobacco brought
in seven ships, and just then landed at Greenock, which
amounted to £ 10,000 sterling. That they had also demanded
three years excise upon the small beer, which likewise amounts
to <£10,000 sterling. That upon the 31st past, two hundred
small carts, in which were six field-pieces, ammunition, small
arms, &c. lately landed at Montrose, and which came over the
Firth at Maigen's Nook, passed by on the west side of Edin¬
burgh, and went to Dalkeith, attended by two considerable
bodies of the rebels. That the Pretender's son left Edinburgh
about six that evening, and came the length of Pinkie, about
four miles to the east of that city, with those of the rebels called
the life-guards, and lay there that night. That all their bag¬
gage, six pieces of six-pounders, and one field-piece, were to be
sent off that night or the next day to Dalkeith, and their whole
army to follow at the same time. That about one o'clock upon the
1st instant, the Pretender's son proceeded to Dalkeith, from
78
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
which place a considerable body of the Highlanders, who called
themselves the advanced guard, marched that evening to Pen-
nycook, and another to Loan Head, both which places are at a
small distance from Dalkeith, upon the road leading westward
to Peebles, Moffat, Carlisle, &c.; those advanced parties gave
out, that their whole army was to follow them the next day.
That the Pretender's son was to set out from Dalkeith upon the
3d, and that they were to march through Annandale to Carlisle.
That the better to disguise their motions, billets for quarters had
been sent to Musselburgh, Fisheraw, Inverask, Preston-Pans,
Tranent, Haddington, and other villages upon the east road to
Berwick, whilst considerable numbers were to march by night
to the westward. That they had along with them above a
hundred and fifty carts and waggons full of baggage, besides
great numbers of baggage-horses, and that they gave out that
their intention was to proceed directly into England, to en¬
deavour to slip by the troops under Marshal Wade, and to get
into Lancashire.
* Nov. 8.—By advices from the North of the 5th instant, there
are accounts, that the rebels were marching southwards towards
Longtown and Carlisle, as was supposed, in three different co¬
lumns, the westermost of which was thought to be their main
body, by the Pretender's son being with them, who was to take
his quarters at Broughton near Peebles, being the house of
Murray, his secretary. The middle column marched by Lauder,
Selkirk, and Hawick, and the eastermost column by Kelso.
Marshal Wade was at Newcastle upon the 5th, and upon advice
of the march of the rebels southwards, had countermanded the
march of the army under him to Berwick. Several companies
of foot, as also the baggage of several regiments landed at
Berwick, had orders to march to Newcastle, and to join their
corps. Lord Kilmarnock, who stiles himself colonel of a re¬
giment of horse, had sent a summons upon the 3d inst. to the
provost of Kelso, for furnishing quarters nnd provisions for 4000
foot and 1000 horse of the rebels, requiring him also to send
the same orders to the magistrates of Wooller. That on Sa¬
turday the 2d, General Guest had made a sally from the
castle of Edinburgh, and seized about 2000 loaves, which had
been provided for, and were to be sent after the rebels, who
had with them, as it was said, only four days' provision when
THE REBELLIONS.
79
they marched. The two regiments of dragoons of Hamilton
and Ligonier were posted at Wooller, Whittingham, &c. to
observe their motions : they are under the command of Colonel
Ligonier. The marshal had ordered the regiments, who had
been quartered in Newcastle since their landing, to join and
encamp with the other forces upon the 6th. The horse and
dragoons continued at Durham. The left column of the rebels
marched upon the 3d inst. from Dalkeith and Newbottle to
Lauder. The number of the rebels who w ere at Peebles upon
the same day amounted to between 4 and 5000 with 150 cart¬
loads of baggage and some artillery. Other letters mention,
that the French arms, ammunition, and baggage, &c., landed
some time since at Montrose, had been brought to Perth, from
whence horses had been pressed to carry it to Allowa on the
27th past, under pain of military execution. That part of the
said baggage had been ferried over that night, which continued
the Monday and Tuesday after; but that General Blakeney
having had notice that the rear of the men who conducted it
was to pass over on Wednesday morning, had dispatched Cap¬
tain Abercrombie with some soldiers and countrymen to attack
them, which they accordingly did, wounded some, took several
prisoners, some cows, horses, and a great deal of baggage,
arms, &c. with some money, and great quantities of letters.
That all these were brought into Stirling castle between seven
and eight that night. That it was reported that there were 24
French engineers along with the said baggage, &c. and that
Giengyle, with 150 men and 7 pieces, of cannon that had been
mounted on the Highlanders' battery at Allowa, was gone to
take possession of the castle of Down, live miles beyond Stir¬
ling, and that General Blakeney was preparing to attack them
there.
Nov. 10.—By letters from the north, of the 6th, there is
advice, that that part of the rebel army which came to Kelso,
continued there till nine that morning; their numbers were be¬
tween 3 and 4000. At ten, they began to pass the Tweed, and
continued passing till after it was dark; they took the road to
Jedburgh, and by the motions of the other two columns, as well
as by what they gave out themselves, they were marching to¬
wards Longtown for Carlisle. Marshal Wade was at Newcastle,
upon the 7th, and it was thought would continue there till their
80
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
designs could be more certainly known; the horse under him
had been ordered to join the army at Newcastle the day before.
The Pretender's son arrived at Kelso upon the 4th at night; the
party with him is said to consist of the best of their men, the
Camerons and Macdonalds. They had no cannon, and no more
baggage than what could be carried in thirty carts and upon
twelve horses, and one covered waggon with the Pretender's
son's baggage. All the cannon and heavy baggage had been
sent towards Peebles, where the Duke of Perth commands, who
is their general-in-chief; Lord George Murray acted as Lieu-
tenant-General; Lord Elcho as Colonel, of what they called the
life-guards; Lord Kilmarnock, as Colonel of Hussars, and Lord
Pitsligo commanded the Angus horse. Many of the rebels have
deserted on their march from Edinburgh, and particularly at
Kelso, and many stragglers with their arms have been seized,
and delivered by the country people into the castles of Edinburgh
and Stirling, or to the commanders of his Majesty's ships.
Nov> 15.—Letters of the 9th from Berwick mention that
Lord Justice Clerk, and Mr. Dundas, his Majesty's Solicitor-
general, with others of his Majesty's servants in Scotland, who
had retired to that place, intended to set out next day upon their
return to Edinburgh, in order to resume the functions of their
several posts.
Letters of the 11 th state, that Lieutenant-General Handasyd
intended to begin his march the next day towards Edinburgh,
and to take with him Price's and Ligonier's regiments of foot,
and the two regiments of Hamilton's and Ligonier's dragoons.
The following account of the motions of the rebels from the
7th to the 10th inst. was received by the same express.
On Thursday, the 7th of November, the rebels marched from
Hawick to Halyhaugh, where the Pretender's son lay that night.
On Friday, the 8th, they marched part of the cavalry to Lang¬
holm, and infantry to Cannoby, on the Scotch side, and the rest
of the cavalry crossed the river, and lay at Longtown, and the
Pretender's son lay at Mr. David Murray's at Ridding. On Sa¬
turday, the 9th, they marched towards Rowcliff, where they
crossed the river within four miles of Carlisle, and thence
pursued their march to Murray's, on Brough side, where they
lay that night, about four miles southward of Carlisle ; and that
afternoon part of the corps which took the route by Moffat, with
THE REBELLIONS.
81
the artillery, joined them, and all the rest next day, except
about 200, which could not join before the 11th. On Sunday,
the 10th, part of their corps approached the walls of Carlisle,
first bending towards the Irish gate, but afterwards marched
round to the English gate, in order to reconnoitre the place, as
it was judged, during which motions they were fired at from
both town and castle, and it was supposed they intended to
make a vigorous attack in the night between the 10th and the
11th, the firing continuing till midnight. On the same day, the
two regiments commanded by Lord Ogilvy and Gordon, of
Glenbucket, crossed the river, about two miles above Rowcliff,
at which time they were counted, and found both together to
make up but 400.
Nov. 15.—A letter, dated the 12th inst. from Mr. Thomas
Pattenson, Mayor of Carlisle, brings advice, that on Saturday
night, the 9th inst., that city was surrounded by about 9000
Highlanders; that at three o'clock that afternoon, he, the Mayor
had received a message from them, to provide billets for 13,000
men, and to be ready that night, which he refused. That the
next day, at three in the afternoon, he received a message in
writing from the person stiling himself Prince Charles, and
subscribed Charles P. R. in the following words :
" Charles, Prince of Wales, Regent of the Kingdom of England, Scotland,
France, and Ireland, and the dominions thereunto belonging."
" Being come to recover the King our father's just rights, .for which we are
arrived with all his authority, we are sorry to find that you should prepare to
obstruct our passage; We therefore, to avoid the effusion of English blood,
hereby require you to open your gates, and let us enter, as we desire, in a peace¬
able manner; which if you do, we shall take care to preserve you from any
insult, and set an example to all England of the exactness with which we intend
to fulfil the King our father's declaration and our own : But if you shall refuse
us entrance, we are fully resolved to force it by such means as Providence
has put into our hands, and then it will not perhaps be in our power to pre¬
vent the dreadful consequences which usually attend a town's being taken by
assault. Consider seriously of this, and let me have your answer within the
space of two hours, for we shall take any farther delay as a peremptory refusal,
and take our measures accordingly.
November, 10, 1745,
Two in the afternoon,
For the Mayor of Carlisle.''''
That he, the Mayor, had returned no answer thereto but by
firing the cannon upon them. That the said pretended Prince,
6
82
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
the Duke of Perth, with several other gentlemen, lay within a
mile or two of the city; but that their whole army was, at the
time of dispatching the above advice, marched for Brampton,
seven miles on the high road to Newcastle.
Nov. 16.—By advices from the north of the 12th, at night,
there are accounts, that the main body of the rebels marched
upon the 11 th to Brampton. The Pretender's son lodged on
the 9th at night, at Murray's, at a little village, three miles west
of Carlisle; on the 10th, at night, at Blackball, three miles south
of Carlisle, and was at Warwick Castle by ten o'clock on the
11 th. A body of the rebels, which the garrison took for the
rear guard, appeared the same day upon Stanwix Bank, but the
guns firing upon them, they fled in great haste. The same night
this body took up their quarters at Rickarby, and at several vil¬
lages near it upon the north side of the river Eden; but receiving
an express ordering them to march to Brampton without loss
of time, they set out immediately from thence, but were not able
to march above a mile and a half that night, their carriage-
horses having failed them. Some stragglers had been brought
into Carlisle, and two carriages laden with biscuit. Upon the
12th the rebels remained at Brampton, Warwick Bridge, and
the villages between those two places. They gave out that their
whole army was to join that night, and that they had orders to
hold themselves in readiness to march at ten o'clock, upon the
13th. They had 16 field-pieces along with them, and seemed
to be greatly surprised that the town of Carlisle had not sur¬
rendered upon their appearance before it the Sunday before.
The rebels who continued before Carlisle, from Saturday till
Monday last, retreated with their carriages and 16 field-pieces
to Brampton, eight miles east from thence. They have con¬
tinued there, and have been collecting their forces till nine this
morning. Two persons of good character came to Penrith at
five this evening, and declared they saw a large body of the
rebels, which they gave out to be 7000, moving from Brampton
to Carlisle, and heard numbers of them declare they were going
to besiege it in form.
Nov. 18.—Letters from Marshal Wade, of the 15th inst.
mention, that upon the news received by him of the resolution
of the rebels to return from Brampton, in order to make an at¬
tempt upon Carlisle, it had been determined in a council of war,
THE REBELLIONS.
83
held the same day thereupon, to march on Saturday morning
the 16th inst. by Hexham towards Carlisle.
Letters of the 14th inst. from Penrith mention, that it was
affirmed by great numbers of persons who were come thither
from the villages, on the south and west sides of Carlisle, that
the whole rebel army were endeavouring to surround that city:
that they shot at every body that fled from them, and that one
person had been killed, and that they were actually putting the
country under military execution: that they seized all able-
bodied men, horses and carriages, and declared that they would
force them to carry their ladders to the walls of Carlisle. Letters
of the same date from Penrith at nine o'clock at night mention,
that the rebels had approached so near Carlisle, that the garrison
had thrown grenades at them, and that the rebels had broke
ground about 300 yards from the citadel, and at Spring-Garden,
near the horse-race ground; and that they had been obliged to
fetch provisions as far as Heckett, about five miles from Car¬
lisle.
Nov. 18.—Letters dated the 15th instant from Penrith give
an account, that a person sent from the governor of Carlisle to
Marshal Wade, reported, that it was agreed, that the town
should be delivered up to the rebels, but did not know the con¬
ditions. The governor was determined to defend the castle to
the last extremity, and had prepared every thing for that pur¬
pose. It was supposed that he will be able to hold out eight
days. Letters from Shap of the 15th instant at noon mention, that
the city of Carlisle surrendered at ten o'clock that morning.
Nov. 19.—By letters received this morning from Edinburgh,
of the 15th instant, there is an account of Lieutenant-General
Handasyd's arrival there the day before from Berwick, with
Price's and Ligonier's regiments of foot, and Hamilton's and
Ligonier's regiments of dragoons: and that the rebels in the
shire of Perth were augmented to 700. Lieutenant-General
Handasyd had left Brigadier Fleming to command at Berwick.
Nov. 23.—Letters from Penrith, dated the 16th, bring a
confirmation of the surrender of Carlisle the day before to the
rebels, and give the following account of the occasion of it, viz.
that for seven days before, neither the officers nor common men
of the garrison had had scarce an hour's rest, being perpetually
alarmed by the rebels, and that many of them were so sick,
6 *
84
TIIE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
through their great fatigue, that being out of all hopes of a
speedy relief, they absolutely refused to hold out any longer;
and multitudes went off every hour over the walls, some of which
fell into the hands of the rebels, till the officers of many com¬
panies were at last left with not above three or four men, so that
the mayor and corporation determined to hang out the white
flag (though contrary to the opinion and protestation of Colonel
Durand),and made the best terms they could get for themselves ;
and that the Colonel was thereupon obliged to abandon the castle,
not having above 70 invalids to defend it, and most of them
unfit for service, and the rebels threatening, in case of refusal,
to destroy the whole town by fire and sword. It is added in
other letters of the 17th, that the garrison were permitted to go
to their respective homes. Marshal Wade marched on Sa¬
turday last, at ten o'clock in the morning, and was to go the
first night to Ovingham, and the second to Hexham.
Nov. 23.—Letters from the North, of the 20th instant, men¬
tion, that the rebels entered Penrith on the 19th instant. Letters
from Marshal Wade, dated the 19th instant, at Hexham, bring
advice of the arrival there, on the 17th at midnight, of the army
under his command, in order to have proceeded to the relief of
Carlisle, and to give battle to the rebels; but that having re¬
ceived advice, as well of the surrender of that city and castle on
the 15th, as of the advance of the rebels to Penrith, and finding
the roads, through the great quantity of snow that had fallen,
in a manner impassable, it had been resolved in a council of
war, to march the army back immediately to Newcastle.
Nov. 23.—It appears by letters just received from Colonel
Durand, commandant of Carlisle, that before the surrender of
that place to the rebels, he had time to nail up ten pieces of
cannon, from four to two-pounders, that were placed upon the
ramparts; that he had prevailed upon 400 men (besides the two
companies of invalids), to join with him in defending the castle;
but that before eight the next morning they had changed their
resolution, and had all left him to a man; so that upon calling a
council of war, consisting of the officers of the invalids, it was
unanimously agreed, that with the small force remaining under
his orders, and which did not exceed eighty men, many of them
extremely infirm, it was not possible to defend the castle.
Letters from Berwick mention, that an account had been re-
THE REBELLIONS.
So
ceived there from General Guest of the taking of MacDonald of
Kinloch, a few miles from Edinburgh: that he is the gentleman
at whose house the Pretender's son lodged, and who was with
him for two months before any other joined him: that he was
sent some time ago to Sir Alexander MacDonald, and the Laird
of MacCloud, from the Pretender's son, in order to prevail upon
those two to join him : that being utterly refused, he was re¬
turning back to the Pretender's son, when taken. The same
letters add, that there was a letter found in his pocket from Mr.
Murray, the Pretender's son's secretary, telling him, that in case
he did not succeed with Sir Alexander and MacCloud, he must
be sure to give it out in the country, as he passed along, that
Sir Alex. MacDonald and Mr. MacCloud were upon their march
to join the Pretender's son with 2000 men, well armed: that
otherwise they could not keep the army they had together, se¬
veral of the chiefs having declared that if those two clans did not
join him, they would march back again.
Oct. 27.—The men of war lying at Berwick are to join ad¬
miral Byng, who has orders to demand all the vessels out of
every port in Scotland, or on refusal to burn them and the
towns that offer resistance, to prevent the Pretender and his
adherents from escaping by sea.
Nov, 1.—Major-General Campbell is arrived at Inverary in
Argyleshire from Liverpool, with arms, money, &c. and is
forming a body in defence of the kingdom. The Eaul of Loudon
has had great success at Inverness, and is now at the head of a
little complete army. A proclamation was read at the high cross,
at Edinburgh, inviting all able-bodied men to enter into his Ma¬
jesty's service, with assurances of being discharged as soon as
the rebellion shall be extinguished. The officers of excise have
been ordered to repair immediately to their divisions, and do
their duty as formerly.
Some gentlemen, by order of the Pretender, having visited
the wounded English prisoners in the infirmaries of Edinburgh,
and told them that such as inclined to swear that they would
not carry arms against the house of Stuart, before the 1 st of
January, 1747, should be set at liberty, 260 of them complied,
some of whom got to the castle, others remain in the infirmary
to be cured.—The rebels soon after retired from the city, and
when they were at a distance, the mob rose on the stragglers left
86
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
behind, drove them into the castle, and broke all the windows
of the most noted Jacobites. Last Sunday divine service was
performed in most of the churches of Edinburgh, and large col¬
lections were made for the poor.
Nov. 11.—A person, who saw the rebels about Rowcliff,
affirms that the whole number did not exceed 9000 men. As to
arms, every man has a sword, target, musket, and dirk; their
baggage is not very considerable, but they relieve the guard
that marches with it every night. For provisions, they have
live cattle, and keep a drove along with them; oatmeal they
buy, or take it where they find it, carry it in a bag at their
sides, and eat it morning and evening, with water. They march
at a very great rate, and express a desire of getting into Lan¬
cashire. Their officers lodge in villages, but the men always
encamp at night. About day-break they begin to move, or
sooner if the moon shines, and push on as hard as possible;
whereas some of our regiments do not get ready to march till
nine o'clock.
Kendal, Nov. IB.—Most of our militia are got home from
Carlisle, who generally complained of very ill treatment in that
place; and though perhaps some of them may exaggerate mat¬
ters through resentment, yet, by all accounts, the conduct of that
city fell much short of what was expected from a place of so
much strength and reputed loyalty. An officer in the said mi¬
litia, who is a man of fortune and good credit, declares, that
Carlisle merits no greater honour by its surrender to the rebels
than Edinburgh did. The garrison wholly consisted of the
Cumberland and Westmoreland militia, together with a few
volunteers, and two imperfect companies of invalids. There
were besides some independent companies of the town, who
would not assist the said garrison with more than two or three
men out of a company; so that last week they were obliged to
be continually upon duty, and the week before one half relieved
the other alternately. The militia were also put to several other
great hardships; many of the inhabitants making them pay an
exorbitant price for provisions; and they could not, for any
money, procure a sufficient quantity of straw to lie upon on the
walks. Captain Wilson (son of Daniel Wilson, Esq., member
of Parliament for Westmoreland) paid £\ 10s. for the use of a
cobler's stall under the walls. Upon the first approach of the
THE REBELLIONS.
87
rebels, the garrison gave out that themselves were 3000 strong;
upon which the rebels durst not attempt the city immediately,
but went forward towards Brampton; from whence they return¬
ed on the 13th. The garrison kept continually firing upon them,
till they were obliged, on the 14th, by the manager in the town,
to desist, and come off from the walls, and continued so all that
night; during which time it was supposed the terms of capitulation
were settled. Next morning they observed that the rebels had
entrenched themselves before the town: upon which the garrison
renewed their fire with great spirit and bravery, but soon re¬
ceived orders again to desist, for the capitulation was agreed
upon. The Duke of Perth, with his division, were the first of
the rebels that entered Carlisle, the Pretender being then six
miles from the city. They made the garrison swear never to
appear in arms any more against them; and Perth, shaking the
men by the hands, told them they were brave fellows, and
offered them great sums to enlist with him. The rebels had
taken above 200 good horses, and all the arms from the militia,
besides 1000 stand lodged in the castle. They also found a rich
booty in the castle; the people of the country round about having
brought thither, for safety, the most valuable of their effects.
The Marquess of Tullibardine was killed by the first fire from
the walls on the 10th. Th^ town capitulated on the 14th, in
the evening ; and on the 15th, at ten o'clock in the morning, it
was given up. Several of the militia endeavoured to escape,
without being obliged to take the oath, as also did some of
Cope's men, who had deserted from the rebels, one of which
they threatened should be shot, as an example to deter others.
Nov. 19.—Upon the application of Provost Cochran, and the
magistrates of Glasgow, for 1000 arms, they are immediately
to be sent thither; and the Earl of Hume, with two troops
of dragoons, is going to Glasgow, in order to discipline and
put in order the men which the city has in readiness. The
accounts we had of Colonel Campbell defeating and dispersing
a body of the rebels of about 130, who came into Cowel, in Ar-
gyleshire, in order to raise men for the rebel army, is confirmed;
and that the deputy lieutenants in that shire, in pursuance of
his Majesty's orders, are endeavouring, with the utmost dili¬
gence, to raise a considerable number of men for the service of
thfe government.
88
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Nov. 25.—Advices from Penrith of the 20th at night, men¬
tion, that the rebels to the amount of 3000 had been entering
that place from four in the afternoon to nine, and that several
thousand men were expected there the next day; that accord¬
ing to all appearance their intention was to march southwards,
and that a party of them, consisting of 120 men, had gone that
afternoon to Lowther-hill, Lord Lonsdale's seat.
Letters of the 21st from the same place say, the rebels had
been coming in there all that day; that those which had arrived
the day before were all gone the Lancashire road; that Lord
George Murray, Lord Elcho, Lord Nairn, Glenbucket, and the
person styling himself Duke of Perth, were arrived at Penrith,
and the Pretender's son was expected every minute.
Letters from Kendal, of the 21st, bring advice, that about 120
horse, belonging to the rebels, were come into that town, and
that orders had been given for preparing quarters for 2000
foot, which were to be there that evening under the command
of Lord George Murray. Letters of the 22d, from the same
place, say, that the rebels were arrived there, and that they
gave out that they proposed to he at Lancaster upon the 23d.
By advices of the 22d from Penrith, the Highland army which
marched in there on the 21st, was to halt that day. The Pre¬
tender's son, with his household, c^me in at the head of a regi¬
ment of foot, about three that afternoon; that by the best
reckoning that could be made at Emont and Fallowlield-bridge,
the whole of their army did not exceed 7000 men; that the
body of regular horse is very inconsiderable. There are not
as yet above 30 hussars, besides those that marched with the
van-guard yesterday to Kendal; that Carlisle was left with only
about 100; that they talked of great numbers gone to join
them from Scotland; that old Glenbucket was gone forward with
Lord Elcho ; that their whole train of artillery did not amount
to above 16 small field-pieces; but their baggage waggons,
which were about 20 in number, were very slenderly guarded,
some of them being drawn by three, and others by two horses,
and that it was expected that the whole body would march from
Penrith upon the 24th.
Nov. 26.—By advices from Liverpool, of the 24th, there is
an account, that nine men belonging to the army of the rebels
came into Burton about one o'clock in the afternoon of the 23d,
THE REBELLIONS.
89
and demanded quarters for 100 horse and 700 foot. Letters
from Lancaster, of the 24th, take notice, that the van of the
rebel army, consisting of the numbers above, arrived there that
day; and that the young Pretender, with the main body, lay at
Kendal the night before.
An express just arrived from Marshal Wade, dated the 23d,
at Newcastle, brings advice, that the army under his command
had returned thither the 22d, and was received and lodged by
the magistrates and inhabitants in the public halls, glass-houses,
malt-houses and other empty buildings; and that, upon the news
of the motions of the rebels, it had been resolved, in a council
of war, to march the whole army southward, on Sunday, the
24th inst. in pursuit of them.
This day his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland set out
from St. James's, to take upon him the command of the army,
now on its march towards Lancashire.
Nov. 25.—This afternoon arrived at Deal his Majesty's ship
Sheerness, Captain Bully, and brought in a French privateer,
called the Soleil, which he took on the 22d off the Dogger bank.
She came from Dunkirk the 21st, and was bound to Montrose,
in Scotland, and has on board Mr. Ratcliff (who styles himself
Earl of Derwentwater), with 20 colonels, captains, &c. Irish,
Scotch, and French, besides 60 other men.
Nov. 30.—The London Gazette of this day relates, that a
French ship was arrived at Montrose, with two companies and
a half of Lord John Drummond's regiment, which landed,
though the ship ran ashore and was lost; that she came from
Dunkirk with three more, and that the rebels in Perthshire
were considerably augmented. It adds, that the rebels were at
Preston on the 27th, when an advanced party went to Liver¬
pool, to demand quarters for 2000 men ; that on the 28th some
few of them came to Warrington, and some were gone to Man¬
chester : that 200 disorderly persons, on the 25th at night,
proclaimed the Pretender King, in Ormskirk, and beat a drum
for volunteers in his service; but the townsmen rose and fought
them, and took ten or twelve prisoners, and dispersed the rest:
that his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland arrived at
Litchfield the 28th, and the horse were advanced to Newcastle;
that the town of Birmingham had generously provided 200
DO
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
horses to help forward the foot, and that General Wade was at
Persbridge oh the 28th.
Archibald Stewart, Esq., late mayor of Edinburgh, was taken
into custody of two messengers.
Many subscriptions were promoted this month to buy neces¬
saries for the army. The quakers sent down 10,000 woollen
waistcoats, to keep them warm, and his Majesty from his privy
purse gave them shoes.
Sir William Yonge, by his Majesty's command, came and
thanked the Lord Mayor and several citizens for their contri¬
butions of blankets, watch-coats, and other necessaries for the
soldiers.
Dec. 1.—Letters from Inverness, of the 14th of November,
bring advice, that Lord Loudon, having with him a considerable
force, consisting of part of his own regiment and several of the
Monro's, Lord Sunderland's, Mr. Grant's and Lord Rae's people,
and 400 of the Macleod's from the isle of Sky, and having re¬
ceived the arms and money brought by his Majesty's sloop the
Saltash, was preparing to set out to quell the commotions in
that neighbourhood, to supply the garrison with such neces¬
saries as they might have occasion for, and to prevent Lord
Lewis Gordon, who was lately come from the North, from giving
any further disturbance. The said letters add, that besides the
gentlemen above named, the greatest zeal had been shown for
the support of his Majesty's government, by the Lord Fortrose
and Sir Alexander Macdonald.
Dec. 3.—By advices from Lancashire, of the 29th, the
main body of the rebels lay at Wigan and Leigh upon the
28th. That afternoon a party of them came into Manchester,
beat up for volunteers for the Pretender, inlisted several papists
and nonjurors, and offered* five guineas a man to any that
would enter. Those who took the money had white cockades
given them, and marched about the town with the drum and
the serjeant. The party above ordered quarters to be prepared
for 10,000 men, who were to come thither the next day.
Upon the 29th the main body moved towards Manchester. A
party of them arrived there at ten in the morning, examined
* It was said elsewhere, that the five guineas were not paid but promised
when they came to St. James's.
THE REBELLIONS.
91
the best houses, and fixed upon one for the Pretender's son's
quarters. By their order the bellman went round the town to
give notice to all persons belonging to the excise, inkeepers, &c.
forthwith to appear, to bring their last acquittances and rolls,
and all the ready cash they had in their hands belonging to
government, upon pain of military execution. About two in
the afternoon, another party arrived there with the Pretender's
son, who marched on* foot in a Highland dress, surrounded
by a body of Highlanders, and was proclaimed. The bellman
went round the town again to order the houses to be illumi¬
nated. That night some of them gave out that their rout was
for Chester, and others reported that they should march to
Knotsford, through Middlewhich and Nantwieh into W ales.f
The three battalions of guards which went last from hence,
notwithstanding the excessive badness of the roads, were ex¬
pected at Litchfield upon the 30th, or this day at farthest.
Letters received to-day mention, that the main body of the
rebel army marched from Manchester on Sunday morning last:
that one part of them had taken the road to Stockport, and
the other that to Knotsford; but that it was supposed they would
join and go altogether the latter road.
An express is arrived from Marshal Wade, with letters of the
28th from Persbridge, where his army was then encamped, with
advice, that he was- upon his march through Yorkshire into
Lancashire, and would be on the 3d at Wetherby.
Dec. 4.—Letters from Lancashire, Cheshire, and Stafford¬
shire, of the 30th past, bring accounts, that about 200 of the rebels
had that day come to a pass three miles from Manchester, lead-
* His dress, &tc. is further described in the following private letter.'—' Butley
Ashe (two miles north of Macclesfield), Dec. I. About three this afternoon
marched by the Pretender's son, at the head of two regiments of foot, one of
which is called his; he marched all the way from Manchester, and forded the
river above Stockport, which took him up to the middle. He was dressed in a light
plaid, belted about with a blue sash; he wore a grey wig, with a blue bonnet
and a white rose in it, and it was observed that he looked very dejected. The
bulk of his people were very ordinary, only his own regiment seemed to be picked,
and made a tolerable appearance. Their advanced guard got into Macclesfield
before the main body passed this place. Their arms are very indifferent; some
have only guns, and those but bad; some pistols and nothing else; the rest swords
and targets; their train of artillery consists of 13 field pieces, some two, some
four pounders; two carriages loadcn with gunpowder, and two sumpter-horses,"
T The Paris Gazette relates, that he intended to go into Wales.
92
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
ing to Knotsford, and had made a sort of bridge over the river
by filling it up with trees that they had felled, and had ad¬
vanced to Altringham : that 55 had the same day crossed the ri¬
ver at Gatley ford to Cheadle, two miles from Stockport, and had
returned directly after to Manchester by Cheadle ford : that
10 had crossed the ford at Stockport that afternoon, staid there
about an hour, gave out that they should bring a large body of
forces to Stockport that night, and that they had inlistcd great
numbers of men at Manchester, to which place they returned.
They had 16 pieces of cannon at Manchester, great numbers of
covered waggons, and near 100 horses laden. They talked
differently about the route they intended to take; some giving
out that they should march forthwith to Chester, and others
into Derbyshire. The same day 200 were at Warrington; two
of whom, who had crossed the river, were seized by the Liver¬
pool soldiers, handcuffed, and sent to Chester.
Letters of the 1st inst. say, that several parties of the rebels
had crossed the Mersey at different places upon the 30th at night,
and early in the morning of the 1st inst. and were marching by
different routes towards Macclesfield. The horse and ar¬
tillery passed at Cheadle ford. The bridges were made of
trees (chiefly poplars) [he should say, over bridges, which
were, &c.] felled for that purpose, and planks laid across; and
all the country people that could be found, were compelled to
assist them. They pressed or rather took away all the horses
they could meet with about Manchester, before they crossed the
Mersey, and obliged several gentlemen, who had sent their
horses out of the way, to send for them back. By break of day
upon the 1st, a party of horse came to Altringham, bespoke
quarters for a body of foot, which arrived there about ten, and
then set out for Macclesfield with a guide. The party which lay
at Altringham were very solicitous to know what number of the
king's forces there was at Knotsford. At 11 o'clock about 100
horse came into Macclesfield, and ordered the bellman to pre¬
pare quarters for 5000 men, who came in there about two
o'clock, with the artillery and the Pretender's son, who lay-
there that night. The van-guard, which consisted of about 200
men, and which had orders to be in readiness to march at 1 I
at night, was quartered at Broken Cross, on the Congleton side
of Macclesfield. All that evening they were very busy scaling
THE REBELLIONS.
93
their pieces, firing them, and putting them into order. They
had given out that they should call at Knotsford, and that
they did not, seems to be owing to their having heard that there
were 2000 of the King's troops in that place. In the middle
of the night, 40 of them were at Buckley hill in pursuit of two
deserters.
By letters of the 2d, there are advices that the party which
lay at Altringham the night before, marched early that morning
towards Macclesfield, from which place about 2000 foot passed
by Gawsworth at ten; that 2000 horse and foot came into Con¬
gleton between three and four in the afternoon, who gave out
that the Pretender, with the remainder of the troops, would
be there that evening. A small party of about 30 were de¬
tached to a place called Ashbury, two or three miles on the
Newcastle side of Congleton. Their horses are very small,
lean, and of different colours.
Dec. 3. Letters from Edinburgh of the 30th past and 1st
inst. mention, that 800 Irish and Scotch, with Lord John Drum-
mond, in six transports, from Dunkirk, had landed at Montrose,
Stonehive, and Peterhead : that the rebels in and near Perth,
by this reinforcement, were 3000 strong; and that having ad¬
vice that they intended to force a passage near Stirling, Lieut.
Gen. Handasyd had ordered a considerable force to march
thither. Admiral Byng, with some of his Majesty's ships, was
since arrived, and cruizing off the said harbour.
Dec. 4.—His Boyal Highness the Duke of Cumberland is re¬
turned to Stafford with the army under his command, which
was assembled at Stone by four in the morning yesterday, upon
positive advices of the rebels marching by Congleton towards
North Wales. His Royal Highness's van-guard was in motion
towards Newcastle, when advice came, that the rebels were gone
for Leek and Ashbourn; and it was thereupon resolved to march
the army as soon as possible to Northampton, in order to in¬
tercept them in their march towards the South. The van-guard
will be at Northampton on Friday night.
This morning the Pretender's son entered Derby with 450
horse, and 2,300 foot. The rest, with the artillery and baggage,
were then at Ashbourn, but set forward this evening for Derby.
Dec. 5.—Yesterday in the afternoon the rebel army began
to come into the town of Derby, and continued coming in till
94
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
late at night. They marched in such a manner as to make their
numbers appear as great as possible, and to render it extremely
difficult to take an exact account of them. They gave out, that
they should march this day to Leicester; but we have advices,
that they have continued at Derby till late this evening, with
their artillery in the market-place. Some of them talked as if
they should make a sudden march in order to slip the Duke of
Cumberland's army, whilst others said, that they should stay to
see whether the Duke would come and give them battle. They
levied the excise there.
Dec. 9.—Letters of the 6th inst. from the army under the
command of his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, men¬
tion, that the whole cavalry, with two battalions of foot, marched
that day into Coventry, and that the rest of the infantry was
encamped on Meriden common: that his Royal Highness had
received several concurrent advices of the rebels having left
Derby on Friday morning, and marched towards Ashbourn, after
having levied a great sum upon the former town, under pain of
military execution.
Letters from Leicester, of the 7th mention, that the rebels
marched that day from Ashbourn towards Leek, and that it was
thought their route was for Wales.
Dec. 9.—Our freshest accounts concerning the progress of
the rebels are of last night. Ry them we learn, that an ad¬
vanced party had reached Manchester at eleven at night, and
that the main body of them marched out of Leek yesterday
morning. Some small parties of them had raised alarms at
Newcastle; and we hear that they do more mischief now in the
country, than when they came.
His Royal Highness is here with all the cavalry, and a body
of foot mounted, and preparing to continue his march in pursuit
of the rebels.
The rebels behaved tolerably well in their march south¬
wards, but have plundered the country in their retreat. Many
of the best houses here have suffered. Two of them were taken
with their arms, between Ashbourn and Derby, by a farmer and
two boys, and were sent to the camp at Meriden common. In
this town they demanded billets for 10,000 men; but those who
computed their numbers as exactly as possible assure us, that
they did not exceed 6,300 horse and foot. The horses were
THE REBELLIONS.
95
extremely jaded, and in a bad condition. In the number above
were many old men, and boys of 15 and 16 years of age, all
without shoes and stockings.
The rebels were at Ashbourn on Saturday morning, and went
to Leek that night. Before they left Ashbourn, they shot two
men, one of whom died on the spot. They have taken all the
horses they could lay their hands upon, and have plundered and
done great damage. They had 15 pieces of cannon, and one
mortar.
Dec. 11.—We have advices, that the rebels left Manchester
yesterday, marching northwards ; and that his Royal Highness
the Duke of Cumberland had made two forced* marches after
them, and continued in pursuit of them.
Dec. 11.—Late last night his Royal Highness the Duke of
Cumberland arrived at Macclesfield, with two regiments of
dragoons, having marched from Litchfield thither in two days,
through terrible roads :f 1000 foot were within an hour's march
of that place, and the Duke of Richmond was expected there
that evening with the remainder of the cavalry. Upon hearing
of the arrival of the Duke's advanced guard with the quarter¬
masters at its place, the rebels quitted Manchester with the ut¬
most hurry and confusion, and went on towards Wigan. His
Royal Highness sent an order by express to the magistrates of
Manchester, to enjoin them to seize all stragglers of the rebel
army, or such as had abetted them, and to keep them in custody
till further orders: and this morning his Royal Highness sent on
Major Wheatly with a body of dragoons. The greatest zeal and
affection were expressed upon the arrival of the King's troops
in these parts. Excepting at Manchester, where the rebels were
joined by about 60 persons, they have met with no success in
their expeditions. Fifteen or sixteen stragglers have been picked
up, who are sent to different jails.
* To enable his Royal Highness to make these marches, the public has been
informed that most of the gentlemen of Staffordshire assisted in furnishing or
procuring horses to mount the foot soldiers on; in particular, the town of Bir¬
mingham ; and Sir Lister Holt, of Aston Hall, near Birmingham, Bart, one of
the members of parliament for Litchfield, is mentioned to have furnished 250
from his own stables and parks; that his Royal Highness was pleased to signify
his great satisfaction for this service ; also for the ready assistance given by the
town of Newcastle, among others; that there was scarce a roan of influence in
the whole county, who did not exert himself on this occasion.
f By Uttoxeter and Cheadle.
96
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Dec. 14.—By letters which came in this morning by express
from his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, dated at
Macclesfield, the 12th inst., there is advice, that his Royal High¬
ness had just received intelligence, that General Oglethorpe with
his detachment of cavalry would be that day at Wigan; and being
at the same time informed, by several advices, from Lancashire,
that the rebels were continuing their flight in the utmost dis¬
order and confusion, and with such a panick, that many of thein
threw away their arms upon the road, his Royal Highness* had
thereupon resolved to pursue them with all possible expedi¬
tion, and would be with his whole cavalry, as yesterday, at
Wigan; and that as the rebels had been forced to halt on
Thursday, the 12th, at Preston, his Royal Highness hoped to
be able to come up with them in two or three days' march.
There are also letters that mention, that the people of the
country had for three days past had some smart skirmishes with
the rebels, and destroyed several of them.
The French troops that landed in Scotland some time ago,
brought with them a train of artillery of 18-pounders. They are
now busy bringing it from Montrose to Perth, by Brecchin, but
meet with great difficulties *, one of their cannon requires 20 of
their country horses to draw it. They give out that they shall
cross the Forth, and talk of besieging both Edinburgh and Stir¬
ling Castles. The spirit of the country to resist the rebels, and
to prevent their crossing the Forth, is very strong; and it is
hoped, that before the rebels can bring all their cannon to
Stirling, a large body of well-affected people will be brought
together to support the King's troops there.
Dec. 14.—We have just now an account, that the rebels left
Preston yesterday, at nine in the morning, and that his Royal
Highness the Duke marched into Preston about four hours after;
and that General Oglethorpe had joined the Duke with the de¬
tachment from Marshal Wade's army.
Dec. 18.—By advice from Preston, of the 14th, Major Gene¬
ral Oglethorpe, with his cavalry, was at Garstang that morn¬
ing, and was to advance that night with his whole corps, and
* His Royal Highness, as every one knows, had resolved to pursue the rebels
with all possible expedition, having made two great day marches after them;
but the reason here given is very unluckily assigned by the writer of the Ga¬
zette.
THE REBELLIONS.
post his regulars on Elhibmoore, which begins about three miles
on this side Lancaster, and extends beyond the town; and his
irregulars were to be detached in small patrols, supported by
parties of the regulars, with orders to attack any patrols of the
rebels, which they might fall in with. If the rebels marched off,
General Oglethorpe was to pursue them, and fall upon their
rear, giving notice immediately to Major Wheatly, who was
posted at Garstang with a considerable body of dragoons, to
support him, and the Major was to be supported by the troops
from Preston. The Liverpool companies were ordered to
march from Warrington, and would arrive at Preston on the
16th. The person called Duke of Perth, with about 150 horse,
left the rebel army upon the 11th at Lancaster, and took the
road towards Carlisle, giving out, that he was going to fetch a
reinforcement. Notice thereof has been sent to all the towns
through which he was to pass, and it was hoped that the country
people would intercept him. About twenty rebel stragglers
have been picked up in different places. The town of Liver¬
pool had sent four persons to attend his Royal Highness the
Duke, with offers to supply the troops with whatever they stood
in need of.
By advices from Preston, of the 15th, the rebels began to
march out of Lancaster at eight o'clock the night before, in a
very great hurry; the baggage proceeded first. They were
marching out in different bodies all night. The last of them left
that town at eight o'clock in the morning of the 15th. They
took the road to Kendal.
Letters of the 17th, from Preston, mention, that General Ogle¬
thorpe had received orders to push beyond Lancaster ; that his
Royal Highness the Duke proposed to be there with the whole
corps that day; that Brigadier Bligh was to be at Preston the
same day; and that Lord Semple, with the two regiments of
Scotch fuzileers, was to follow him thither with the utmost ex¬
pedition.
Some prisoners that have been taken and examined, make
the number of the rebels amount to 8000, including women and
boys, and say, that amongst them there are about 2000 of the
men of the clans, well armed with guns and broad swords, the
rest consisting chiefly of Athol men and Lowlanders, who are
but indifferently armed; that they have 15 pieces of cannon of 3
7
9S
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
or 4 pounders; that one Sullivan (who has been in the French
service) has the care of their artillery; that from their first enter¬
ing England, till they came to Derby, they seemed resolved upon
marching directly to London ; but that at Derby, having heard
how the Duke of Cumberland's army was posted, a council of
war was called, in which it was resolved to return by Carlisle
into Scotland; that there was a person with the rebels who
styled himself the French ambassador ; and that great numbers
of the men had often declared, that if they could get back into
Scotland, they would leave the army, and return to their res¬
pective abodes.
Dec. 14.—In obedience to a letter sent to the deputy-lieute¬
nants of Westmoreland and Cumberland, by his Royal Highness
the Duke of Cumberland, requiring them, by all means, to re¬
tard and obstruct the march of the rebels through those two
countries, a resolution has been just taken to raise part of the
country, to demolish Wastel bridge, to make the road from Ken¬
dal to Shap impassable for the artillery of the rebels, or any
wheel-carriages; and for the same reason to break up the road
down Graridge-Hawse; whereby it is hoped their march may
be so far retarded, as to give time to his Royal Highness's
army to come up with them, before they can get clear of these
counties. About ten this morning the van-guard of the rebels,
consisting of 110 men, equipped and accoutred like hussars,
entered Kendal on horseback, with a chaise, in w hich was a
person in woman's dress, rode up the town quietly, and turned
through the fish-market down to the bridge leading to Penrith;
but as they were pursuing their route through the town, without
stopping, and were almost got out of it, a gun was fired out of a
house, and one of the rebels killed; whereupon the town's people
closed in, and took two more prisoners. The rest of them galloped
on towards the bridge, where a halt was made on a sudden, and
a few muskets discharged at the people, and an ostler and shoe¬
maker thereby killed on the spot. They then made a general
volley, but without doing any more mischief, and after that pur¬
sued their way as fast as they could towards Shap. Their
horses seemed very much harrassed and jaded.
Dec. 17.—A party of rebel horse (about 100) amongst whom
was the Duke of Perth, so called, passed through Kendal on
Saturday morning about ten; the country and town's people
THE REBELLIONS.
«9
mobbed their rear, which fired and killed two or three, and
proceeded forward towards Penrith. On Sunday after dinner
a party of the horse came into Kendal, amongst whom was their
commissary; and an hour afterwards came the rest, horse and
foot, and were coming in till after dark. Their artillery, con¬
sisting of 12 to 13 small pieces, was about the middle of the
corps, with several covered carts. The Duke of Perth, so called,
after the scuffle above mentioned at Kendal, proceeded on to
Shap, and intended for Penrith; but seeing the beacons on fire,
and hearing it was done to call in the country, sent a small party
to the round table, which is a mile on this side Penrith, and five
from Shap, to make enquiries; and finding it true, he returned
for safety to Kendal about two in the morning of the 16th. Be¬
tween four and five the drums began to beat, and the men
marched out from day-break till near ten, in the same order as
they entered, Lord George Murray being with the last company.
On Sunday night mischief was apprehended at Kendal, but
the magistrates pacified the heads of the rebels in some measure;
but on Monday morning, after the alarm, they behaved very
rudely, and exacted a sum of money; and the last of them plun¬
dered some horses for liquors, stripped those they met of their
shoes, and attempted to fire a house.
Dec. 21.—Letters received this morning from the Duke of
Cumberland, by a messenger who left his Royal Highness on
Thursday morning last, bring an account, that he came up with
the rebels on Wednesday night with his cavalry, after ten
hours' march, just beyond Lowther-Hall, which the rebels
abandoned on our approach, and threw themselves into a vil¬
lage called Clifton, within three miles of Penrith ; which village
his Royal Highness immediately attacked with the dragoons dis¬
mounted, who behaved extremely well, and drove the rebels
out of it in an hour's time, though a very strong and defensible
post. The loss of the rebels could not be known, as it was quite
dark before the skirmish was over : that of the king's forces
amounted to about 40 men killed and wounded, and 4 officers
wounded, but not mortally, viz. Colonel Honywood, Captain
East, and the two cornets Owen and Hamilton. A Captain
Hamilton of the rebels was taken prisoner, much wounded.
After this action, the rebels retired to four miles' distance, and
his Royal Highness intended to pursue them as soon as possible.
7
100
TIIE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
The rebels having carried off their killed and wounded, it has
not been possible to ascertain their loss; but since that affair
about 70 of their people have been taken prisoners.
Of the King's forces, the regiment that suffered most was his
Majesty's own regiment of dragoons, some officers of which
being wounded, the rebels cried : No quarter—murder them.—
And they received several wounds after they were down.
About ten o'clock on Wednesday night, that corps of the re¬
bels which was at Penrith, and had ordered their cannon and
baggage to advance during the skirmish, retired with the utmost
precipitation to Carlisle, where they arrived yesterday morning
about ten. It was so dark, and the country so covered, that it
was not possible to pursue them that night; and the troops being
fatigued with the forced marches they had made through very
bad roads, they halted at Penrith yesterday, and were joined
last night by the greatest part of the foot, and by the remainder
this morning.
Dec. 26.—Letters received yesterday by express from Bli-
chall, near Carlisle, give an account, that upon the march from
Penrith thither, his Royal Highness the Duke had received the
news of the rebel army having quitted that place, and left in it
only 3 or 4 hundred men, who, according to the best intelli¬
gence, consist chiefly of their English recruits, and Gordon of
Glenbucket's men, commanded by one Hamilton. The king's
forces arrived within sight of the town the 21st about noon, and
Major General Bland had invested it on the Scotch side with
St. George's dragoons, and 300 men of Bligh's regiment, with
orders to prevent any passage over the bridge upon the river
Eden, which leads directly to the Scotch gate. Major Adams,
with 200 foot, was posted in the suburbs of the English gate, to
prevent any of the garrison's escaping that way; Major Meirac
at the Irish gate with the same orders, and Sir Andrew Agnew
at the Sully port with 300. All the horse and the foot-guards
were cantoned round the town, at a mile or two distance. The
rebels, who were left, made a show of intending to defend the
place, firing their cannon upon every body who appeared in
sight of it. The artillery from Whitehaven was expected to
arrive in a day or two at the army, and it was proposed to have
a battery erected by the morning of the 24th; after which it was
not doubted but his Royal Highness would be master of the town
THE REBELLIONS. 101
in 24 hours, in which he intended to leave a sufficient garrison.
The rebels left their cannon behind them in Carlisle, excepting
3 pieces; and Major General Bland had taken 1C carts laden
with tents.
A LIST OF PRINCE CHARLES'S OFFICERS AND TROOrs.
REGIMENTS.
COLONELS.
MEN.
Lochiel
Cameron of Loch ......
740
Appin
Steward of Ardshiel
360
Athol
Lord George Murray .....
1000
Clanronald
Clanronald of Clanronald, jun ....
200
Keppoch
Macdonald of Keppoch .....
400
Glenco
Macdonald of Glenco .....
200
Ogilvie
Lord Ogilvie .......
500
Glenbucket
Gordon of Glenbucket
427
Perth
Duke of Perth (and Pitsligo's foot) .
750
St.iv van
Robertson of Strowan
200
Maclauchlan
Maclauchlan of Maclauchlan ....
260
Glencarnick
Macgregor
300
Glengeary
Macdonald of Glengeary, jun ....
300
Nairn
Lord Nairn
200
Edinburgh
J. Roy Stuard (and Lord Kelly's)
450
6287
In several small corps
1000
Horse, Lord Elcho and Lord Kilmarnock
160
Lord Pitsligo's horse
140
Total 7587
Dec. 23.—The rebels remained at Dumfries till eleven of the
clock this morning, at which time they began to march, and
had all left the town before eight. They demanded two thou¬
sand pounds contribution at Dumfries, one thousand whereof
was immediately paid, and as a security for the other, they have
taken along with them two gentlemen as prisoners. They also
insisted on one thousand pair of shoes, paid nothing for quar¬
ters, and did a prodigious deal of mischief every where. It is
said they marched from Dumfries this morning in great preci¬
pitation, being alarmed by a report that a party of the army
under the command of his Royal Highness the Duke of Cum¬
berland was at Annan. We hear that the rebels who went to
102
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Moffat, and were computed about 2000 in number, had orders
not to march from that place till this day; and it is said the
whole rebel army was to march north by way of Douglas.
The young Pretender, the Duke of Perth, Lord Elcho, Lord
Pitsligo, Lochiel, and Keppoch, went by Dumfries-, Lord Tul-
libardine, Lord George Murray, Lords Ogilvy and Nairn, went
by Moffat.
Dec. 24.—The main body of the rebels was in Penrith, on
Wednesday the 18th inst., when their rear-guard, which con¬
sisted of about 1000 of their best men, was driven out of the
village of Clifton, by about 800 dismounted dragoons, twelve of
whom were killed, and twenty-four wounded. As soon as the
news arrived, orders were given by the rebels to prepare for a
march forthwith, and about eight that evening they set out, and
continued marching towards Carlisle, where they arrived at
nine o'clock the next morning. His Royal Highness halted
there with the rest of the army on Friday. At four o' clock on
Saturday morning, our whole army marched in three columns
towards Carlisle, his Royal Highness with the infantry making
the centre along the post-road, and the horse and dragoons in
two columns, one on his right by Armathwate, and the other on
his left by Hutton-hall. They joined on Carlton-moor, and
took their quarters in the villages round Carlisle, which place
the rebels left on Friday, having staid there but one night to
change the garrison. Whilst the Highlanders were in this
town, they were guilty of great excesses; they broke open se¬
veral houses and shops, took away great quantities of the goods,
and threw into the streets, and spoiled or destroyed, what they
could not carry off.
Deo. 31.-—The rebels in Carlisle have burnt part of the su¬
burbs, and hanged three of the inhabitants. The Duke's can¬
non was to play against them on the 28th.
After the battle of Falkirk, which proved so disastrous to the
rebel array, the chiefs addressed Prince Charles advising a re¬
treat to the north, to the following effect :*—
* See the Appendix io Mr. Home's History of the Rebellion,
THE REBELLIONS.
103
The Highland Chiefs to their Prince.
" We think it our duty, in this critical juncture, to lay our opinions, in the
most respectful manner, before your Royal Highness.
" We are certain that a vast number of the soldiers of your Royal Iligh-
ness's army are gone home since the battle of Falkirk; and notwithstanding
all the endeavours of the commanders of the different corps, they find that
this evil is encreasing hourly, and not in their power to prevent; and as we
are afraid Stirling Castle cannot be taken so soon as was expected, if the
enemy should march before it fall into your Royal Highness's hands, we can
see nothing but utter destruction to the few that will remain, considering the
inequality of our numbers to that of the enemy. For these reasons we are
humbly of opinion, that there is no way to extricate your Royal Highness,
and those who remain with you, out of the most eminent danger, but by retiring
immediately to the Highlands, where we can be usefully employed the re¬
mainder of the winter, by taking and mustering the forts in the north; and
we are morally sure we can keep as many men together as will answer that
end, and hinder the enemy from following us in the mountains at this season
of the year; and in spring we doubt not that an army of 10,000 effective
Highlanders can be brought together, and follow your Royal Highness wher¬
ever you think proper. This will certainly disconcert your enemies, and cannot
but be approved of by your Royal Highness's friends, both at home and abroad.
If a landing should happen in the mean time, the Highlanders would imme¬
diately rise, either to join them, or to make a powerful diversion elsewhere.
" The hard marches which your enemy has undergone, the winter season,
and now the inclemency of the weather, cannot fail of making this measure ap¬
proved of by your Royal Highness's allies abroad, as well as your faithful ad¬
herents at home. The greatest difficulty that occurs to us, is the saving of
the artillery, particularly the heavy cannon; but better some of these were
thrown into the river Forth, as that your Royal Highness, besides the danger
of your own person, should risk the flower of your army, which we apprehend,
must inevitably be the case, if this retreat be not agreed to, and gone about with¬
out the loss of one moment, and we think it would be the greatest imprudence
to risk the whole on so unequal a chance, when there are such hopes of succour
from abroad, besides the resources your Royal Highness will have from your
faithful and dutiful followers at home. It is but just now we are apprised of the
numbers of our own people that are going off, besides the many sick that are
in no condition to fight. And we offer this our opinion with the more freedom,
that we are persuaded that your Royal Highness can never doubt of' the up¬
rightness of our intention. Nobody is privy to this address to your Royal
Highness, except your subscribers; and we beg leave to assure your Royal
Highness, that it is with great concern and reluctance, we find ourselves
obliged to declare our sentiments in so dangerous a situation, which nothing
could have prevailed with us to have done, but the unhappy going off of so many
men.
(Signed by)
Lord George Murray, Lochiel, Kei>pocii, Clanronalp, Arpstitel, Loch-
oary, Scothouse, Simon Frazer, Master of Lovat.
Falkirk, 29th .Tan, 1746.
104
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
The Pretender and Miss Walkenshaw. — It was after the
battle of Falkirk, at Bannockburn-castle, where the Prince had
taken his head-quarters, that he became acquainted with Miss
Clementina Walkenshaw, by whom he had a daughter, the Du¬
chess of Albany. Mr. Amedee Pichot, in the new edition of his
History of Charles Edward, has the first narrated the Pre¬
tender's love adventures with some detail.
The subsequent discomfiture of Prince Charles and his ad¬
herents after the battle of Falkirk are sufficiently known.
Macpherson and Cameron.*—After the last fatal catastrophe
of the Highland army at Culloden, upon the 16th of April, 1746,
they meant to make head again about Auchmearry, till, upon
Lord Loudon's approach with an army, the few that had got
together were made to disperse. Lochiel being bad of his
wounds, was obliged to shift from his own country to the Braes
of Rannoch; near which, about the 20th of June, in a hill
called Benouschk, Cluny Macpherson met him and Sir Steward
Threipland, physician, who attended him in the cure of his
wounds. Cluny brought them from thence to Benalder, a hill
of great circumference in that part of Badenoch next to Ran-
noch, and his own ordinary grassings; where they remained
together, without ever getting certain notice of what had be¬
come of the Prince for near three months, when they received
the agreeable news of his being safe at Locherkaik, from one
John Macpherson, a tenant of Lochiel's who was sent by Ca¬
meron of Cluns, to find out Lochiel and Cluny, in order to
* This account of Macpherson of Cluny and Cameron of Lochiel, after the
battles of Culloden, of their meeting with Prince Charles, and of the extraor¬
dinary habitation called the Cage, where the Prince lived with them till he re¬
ceived notice that two French frigates were arrived at Lochrameagh, was taken
from the original dictated by Cluny himself, which was written by one who had
a very bad hand, and has several words which are not legible; but when the
author of the work whence this is taken had caused a fair copy of it to be made
and fairly written, he was sensible that he had mistaken the sense of the ori¬
ginal; particularly in that part of it where Cluny says, that after the battle of
Culloden, the Highlanders meant to make head again about Auchmearry. As
Mr. Home had obtained from the present Macpherson of Cluny many of his
father's papers and letters, concerning the rebellion, he had recourse to that col¬
lection, and found there an account of a plan, formed by certain chiefs and heads
of clans to take arms after the battle of Culloden; with several letters contain¬
ing an account of this design, and the manner in which it was defeated
MACPIIERSON AND CAMERON.
105
acquaint them that his Royal Highness was safe, and where he
was to be found.
Upon Macpherson's return to Cluns, the Prince being in¬
formed where Lochiel and Cluny were, he sent Lochgary and
Dr. Archibald Cameron, with a message to them. When these
gentlemen met with Lochiel and Cluny, it was concerted among
them, that the Prince should come to their asylum, as the safest
place for him to pass for some time; on which Lochgary and
Dr. Cameron immediately returned to his Royal Highness, to
acquaint him of the resolution taken by his friends; and that
Cluny would on a certain day meet his Royal Highness at Auch-
mearry, in order to conduct him to Radenoch. Upon the
return of Lochgary and Dr. Cameron to the Prince, they
having set off a day or two before Cluny, his Royal Highness
was so impatient to be with his two friends, whom he had not
for a long time seen, that he would not wait for Cluny's com¬
ing to Aucbmearry; but expecting to meet Cluny on the way,
set out with guides for Radenoch; where he arrived on the
29th of August, having, in the mean time, missed Cluny, who
went on to Auchmearry, where he was acquainted of the turn
his Royal Highness had taken; on which he made all the
dispatch possible to join him, but did not come up with his
Royal Highness till a day or two after his arrival at Radenoch.
The Prince lay the first night at Corineuir, after his coming
to Badenoch, from which he was conducted next day to Mel-
lanuir, a sheiling of very narrow compass, where Lochiel with
Macpherson of Breakachie, Allan Cameron his principal ser¬
vant, and two servants of Cluny, were at the lime.
It cannot but be remarked, that when Lochiel saw five men
approaching under arms, being the Prince, Lochgary, Dr.
Cameron, and two servants, taking the five men to be of the
army, or militia, who lay encamped not above four or five
miles from them, and very probably in search of them; as it
was in vain to think of plying, Lochiel at the time being quite
lame, and not in any condition to travel, much less to ran
away, it was resolved that the enemy, as they judged them to
be, should be received with a general discharge of all the arms,
in number twelve firelocks and some pistols; which they had
in the small sheiling house, or hothie (as such small huts are
commonly called), in which they at the time lodged ; whereupon
106
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
all was made ready, the pieces planted and levelled; and, in
short, they flattered themselves of getting the better of the
searchers, there being no more than their own number; and
likewise considering the great advantage they had of firing at
them without being at all observed, and the convenience of so
many spare arms. But the auspicious hand of Almighty God,
and his providence, so apparent at all times in the preservation
of his Royal Highness, prevented those within from firing upon
the Prince and his four attendants, for they came so near that
they were recognized by those within.
Lochiel, upon making this discovery, made the best of his
way, though lame, to meet his Royal Highness, who received
him very graciously. The joy at this meeting is much easier to
be conceived than expressed; and when Lochiel would have
kneeled, on coming up to the Prince. —" Oh! no, my dear
Lochiel (said his Royal Highness, clapping him on the shoulder),
we do not know who may be looking from the top of yonder
hills, and if they see any such motions, they'll immediately con¬
clude that I am here." Lochiel then ushered him into his
habitation, which was indeed but a very poor one. The Prince
was gay, and in better spirits than it was possible to think he
could have been, considering the many disasters, disappoint¬
ments, fatigues, and difficulties he had undergone. His Royal
Highness, with his retinue, went into the hut, and there was
more meat and drink provided for him than he expected. There
was plenty of mutton, an anker of whisky containing twenty
Scots pints, some good beef sausages made the year before,
with plenty of butter and cheese, besides a large well-cured
bacon ham. Upon his entry the Prince took a hearty dram,
which he sometimes called for thereafter, to drink the health
of his friends. When some minced collops were dressed with
butter in a large saucepan, which Lochiel and Cluny carried
always about with them, being the only fire-vessel they had,
his Royal Highness ate heartily, and said, with a cheerful coun¬
tenance, "Now, gentlemen, I live like a Prince," though at the
same time he was no otherwise entertained, than eating his
collops out of the pan with a silver spoon. After dinner he
asked Lochiel if he had always lived here, during his skulking,
in such a good way? "Yes, sir," answered Lochiel, "for near
Ihree months that I have been hereabouts with my cousin
MACPHERSON AND CAMERON.
107
Cluny, he has provided for me so well, that I have had plenty
such as you now see; and I thank heaven your Royal Highness
has got through so many dangers to take a part."
In two days after, his Royal Highness went and lodged with
Lockert at Mellamuir, to which Cluny came to them from
Auchmearry. Upon his entering the hut, when he would have
kneeled, his Royal Highness provented him, and kissed him as
if he had been an equal, saying: " I am sorry, Cluny, you and
your regiment were not at Culloden : I did not hear, till very
lately, that you were so near us that day."
The day after Cluny arrived he thought it time to remove
from Mellamuir, and took the Prince about two miles farther
into Renalder, to a little sheil called Uischebra, where the hut,
or bothie, was superlatively bad and smoky; yet his Royal High¬
ness put up with every thing. Here he remained for two or
three nights, and then removed to a very romantic habitation,
made for him by Cluny, two miles further into Renalder, called '
the Cage; which was a great curiosity, and can scarcely be
described to perfection. It was situated in the face of a very
rough, high, and rocky mountain, called Letternilichk, still a
part of Benalder, full of great stones and crevices, and some
scattered wood interspersed. The habitation called the Cage,
in the face of that mountain, was within a small thick bush of
wood. There were, first, some rows of trees laid down, in
order to level a floor for the habitation; and as the place was
steep, this raised the lower side to an equal height with the
other; and these trees, in the way of joists, or planks, were
levelled with earth and gravel. There were betwixt the trees,
growing naturally in their mere roots, some stakes fixed in the
earth, which, with the trees, were interwoven with ropes, made
of heath and birch twigs, up to the top of the Cage, it being of a
round or rather oval shape ; and the whole thatched or rather
covered over with fog. This whole fabric being, as it were,
supported by a large tree, which reclined from the one end, all
along the roof, to the other, and which gave it the name of the
Cage; and by chance there happened to be two stones at a small
distance from one another, in the side next the precipice resem¬
bling the pillars of a chimney, where the lire was placed. The
smoke had its vent out here, all along the face of the i-oek, which
was so much of the same colour, that one could discover no
10S
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
difference in the clearest day. The Cage was no larger than
to contain six or seven persons, four of whom were frequently
employed playing at cards, one idle looking on, one baking, and
another firing bread and cooking.
Here his Royal Highness remained till the 13th of September,
when he was informed, that the vessels for receiving and carrying
him to France, were arrived at Lochnamragh. The Prince set
out immediately; and travelling only by night, arrived at Bo-
radale, near Lochnamragh, on the 19th of September, and em¬
barked there on the 20th.
The following historiette has been told of the young Prince:
—In a long march which he made in Lancashire, through very
bad roads, he wore a hole in one of his shoes. Upon his arrival
at a small village, he sent for a blacksmith, and ordered him to
make a thin plate of iron, which was fastened to the bottom of
the sole. Then paying him for the labour, said, " My lad, thou
art the first blacksmith that ever shoed the son of a king."
Imprisonment of Prince Charles at Paris, Dec. 10, 1748.*—
The troubles and persecutions of this ill-fated prince, as appears
by the following letter, addressed to a lady in Scotland, did not
terminate with the adventures and miraculous escapes which he
encountered with such courage and fortitude, accompanied with
a few faithful friends, among his native mountains. He was still
reserved for other trials, and in which his courage never forsook
him: surprised on his way to the opera, bound, and conducted
to the Castle of Vincennes, two years after he had landed in
France, safe from the pursuit of his pursuers, an occurrence so
sudden and so little expected, in a mind less inured to hardships
and reverses of fortune, might have produced the most dreadful
forebodings as to the ultimate consequences of such procedure.
" The Prince having dined at home with about thirty at his
table, mostly of his own people, proposed, after dinner, to walk in
the Thuileries, where several of his company followed him, par¬
ticularly two of his Scots chieftains, one of which spoke to him
in the morning concerning the reports that were going, that cer¬
tainly he was to be taken up one of these days. And as the
report went, that it was to be at his own house, or in the public
* From the MS. collections of the Earl of Buchan.
IMPRISONMENT OF PRINCE CHARLES.
109
gardens, begged of him to give him and the rest of his subjects
orders 5 but added, he believed there was nothing in them. It
coming on rain while they were walking, he left the Thuileries,
and as stepping into his coach, the two chieftains told hiin
" if he had a mind to make a Bender of it, as the King of Sweden
did, he would not want assistance;' at which he thanked them,
but bid them not be uneasy. He returned home, where he
stayed about half an hour, and then took his coach and went
to the opera, attended by Sir James Harrington and Colonel
Goring, two Englishmen, and Mr. Sheridan, an Irishman. When
the coach came to the cul-de-sac, the Prince alighted as usual,
was seized in a moment by a number of the Serjeants of the
French Blue Guards, who shut the opera door before him, and
the barrier behind them, while one insolently broke his sword in
the scabbard, and two others took the little pistols out of his side
pockets; then carrying him, without his feet touching the ground,
to a room in the Palais Royal, when the major of the French
guards, Marquis de Yaudreuil, told him, ' he had the King of
France's orders.' All who took him were disguised in whitish
coloured clothes, such as footmen out of livery wear. The Prince
was, in the Palais Royal, bound like a common criminal, and put
into a remise coach, the major and two captains going with
them, and French soldiers mounted behind with screwed bay¬
onets. The Prince then said, ' Gentlemen, this is but a dirty
office you are employed in ; I suppose I'm straight on my way
to Hanover;' they told him he was going to Vincennes Castle,
where, as soon as he arrived, he said to the Governor, Marquis
de Cliatel, ' I used to come as your friend, governor, but now I
come your prisoner. I hope you will salute me though I cannot
come to you.' The governor, who was his very great friend,
stormed like a lion, and ran and unbound him ; but was obliged
to obey orders, and put him in that part of the castle called the
Dungeon, a little dark hole of a place in the flight tower, two
Captains guards within his room, and four sentries at the door.
" When he came into this miserable place, he said, it was
not quite so good as his brother's in the Highland Hills. He
threw himself on the bed, and would not be prevailed upon to
throw off his clothes, nor eat or drink any thing that night, and
was frequently heard to say to himself, ' Oh! my faithful
mountains!' Next day he eat nothing but a little soup; but on
110
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
Thursday he dined, and took ill after it, with a violent vomiting
and purging, but was perfectly well next day: he made the
captains always eat with him, and spoke to them about the
wars, &c. and behaved with such a noble and manly courage,
that he so charmed the hearts of his guards, that they were ready
to cry when they spoke of him, and several swore that they
would rather give up their commission than mount guard there
any more. He parted from Vincennes on Sunday morning about
daybreak, where is not yet known; but it is said the musqueteers
have orders to guard him to Pont de Beauvoisin on the frontiers,
a place belonging half to Savoy, half to France, where it is said
he will be left to go where he pleases.
" The gentlemen, who were in the coach with the Prince
going to the Opera, were put in separate hackney coaches, and
carried to the Bastille; his footmen went the same road, one of
which, Angus MacDonald, the only Scotsman there, fired a pistol
at one of the men that took the Prince. Mr. Alexander Mac¬
Leod and Stewart of Ardsheill were playing at backgammon in
the Prince's house, Sir David Murray was looking on, when the
guards came to the house; and they were seized also and sent
to the Bastille, as was the cook, washerwoman, and every body
within that door. Mr. Strafford, an Irish gentleman, had dined
abroad, and knowing nothing of the matter, was by the guards
let into the court, and sent the same road with the rest. It would
have appeared, they feared the mob, for there were guards from
the Prince's house to the Pont Boyal, and about 2000 men in
arms there and about the Opera, and six regiments at a call;
a great many French gentlemen were put in the Bastille that
night, and next day, for speaking of it. The people got up in the
Opera to come out, but the doors were shut; every body, high
and low, were in tears, and I could not imagine that the French
were so fond of any king but their own king.
" The Count de Biron went from the Palais Royal to court
that night, and when the news were told the Queen, the Dauphin,
and Dauphiness, and all the Madames, they threw down their
knives, and there was not one word spoken.
" You may depend on the truth of this paper, because I had
it from the Governor of Vincennes, and others of absolute credit,
thought it is treason now to say he was tied or ill-used."
MONUMENT OF PRINCE CHARLES.
Ill
The last of the Stuarts.—On the 4th of January, 1815, died
Alexander Macdonald, Esq., who is no other way remarkable,
than for a chivalrous devotion to the family Stuart. He raised
a monument in the vale of Glenlinnyn, at the head of Lochschiel,
in the county of Inverness, with a Latin, Gaelic, and English in¬
scription, to commemorate the last open efforts of that family,
for the recovery of a crown they had forfeited by innumerable
breaches of the laws, and whose aggressions on life and property
being suffered, till
r
" Non-resistance could no further go,"
they were excluded from the throne of the people, by the aristo¬
cracy and commonality of England in parliament assembled. As
evidence of the spirit that dictated such a memorial, and of the
proper feeling which permits that spirit to be expressed, in spite
of its hostility to the principles that deposited and continued the
diadem of the commonwealth in the custody of the house of
Hanover, the inscription on the monument is here given, as it
stands in English
On the spot where
PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD
First raised his Standard,
On the 19th day of August, MDCCXLV,
When he made the daring and romantic attempt
To recover a throne lost by the imprudence of his
Ancestors,
This column was erected by
ALEXANDER MACDONALD, Esq., of
Grenaladale,
To commemorate the generous zeal;
The undaunted bravery, and the inviolable fidelity,
Of his forefathers, and the rest of those
Who fought and bled in that
Arduous and unfortunate enterprise.
This pillar is now,
Alas!
Also become the Monument
Of its amiable and accomplished founder,
Who,
Before it was finished,
Died in Edinburgh on the 4th day of January,
MDCCCXV.
112
THE ENGLISH AND SCOTS.
The " right line" of the Stuart race terminated in the late
cardinal York. He was the second son of " the Pretender," and
was born at Rome on the 26th of March, 1725; where he was
baptized by the name of Henry Benedict Maria Clemens : he
died there in 1807, in the 83d year of his age. In 1745 he went
to France to head an army of fifteen thousand men, assembled
at Dunkirk for the invasion of England. The battle of Culloden
settled " the arduous and unfortunate enterprise," which the
"amiable and accomplished founder" of the monument comme¬
morates, and not a single transport left Dunkirk roads. As soon
as Henry Benedict heard of the alfair at Culloden, he returned
to Rome, entered into priest's orders, and in 1747 was made a
Cardinal by Pope Benedict XIV. It was taunted by a former
pope upon James II., that he " lost his kingdom for a mass
and it is certain that Henry Benedict was better qualified to take
a red hat, and pull on and off red stockings, than to attempt the
conquest of a free protestant nation.
After the expulsion of Pius YI. from "the chair of St. Peter,''
by the French, he fled from his splendid residences at Rome and
Frascati to Venice, infirm in health, distressed in circumstances,
and at the age of seventy-five. He subsisted for awhile on the
produce of some silver plate, he had saved from the ruin of his
property. By the friendly interference of Sir John Cox Hippis-
ley, the Cardinal's situation was made known to George III., and
Lord Minto had orders to remit him a present of £2000, which
he received in February, 1800, with an intimation that he might
draw for the same amount in the July following; and Sir J. C.
Hippisley communicated to him, that an annuity of £4000 would
be at his service, so long as his circumstances might require it.
This liberality was received and acknowledged by the Cardinal
in terms of gratitude, and made a considerable impression on
the reigning Pope and his court. These facts are extracted from
the Gentleman's Magazine (vols. 74 and 77), which also ob¬
serves, that " from the time he devoted himself to ecclesiastical
functions he seemed to have laid aside all worldly views, till his
father's death in 1788, when he had medals struck, bearing on
their face his head, with ' Henricus nonus Angliae Rex ;' on the
reverse, a city, with ' Gratia Dei, sed non Voluntate Hominum :'
if we are not misinformed, one of these medals was in the pos¬
session of George IV.
CLANS.
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
In the " Tales of my Landlord," the author has given a line
representation of the Highland clans of the sixteenth century, and
particularly in the Legend of Montrose. The following charac¬
teristic traits of the ancient Scots Highlanders' discipline, of their
fierce and hardy habits, their dress, arms, mode of warfare, and
manner of living, their devotion to their chiefs, & c., will convey
some previous rational idea of the manners and customs of these
sons of the " mountain and glen," from which a comparative es¬
timate, in some measure, under due allowances, may be made
with their successors of the present day.
Clans. *—The Highlanders were composed of a number of
tribes, called clans, each of which bore a different name, and
lived upon the lands of a different chieftain. The members of
every tribe were united to each other, not only by the feudal,
but by the patriarchal bond; for while the individuals which
composed it were vassals or tenants of their own hereditary
chieftain, they were also descended from his family, and could
count exactly the degree of their descent. The right of primo¬
geniture, moreover, together with the weakness of the laws to
reach inaccessible countries, and more inaccessible men, had, in
the revolution of centuries, converted these natural principles of
connexion between the chieftain and his people, into the most
sacred tie of human life. The castle of the chieftain was a kind
of palace to which every man of his tribe was made welcome,
and where he was entertained according to his station in time
of peace, and to which all flocked at the sound of war. Then
the meanest of the clan, knowing himself to be as well-born as
the head of it, revered in the chieftain his own blood; complained
not of the difference of station into which fortune had thrown
him, and respected himself. The chieftain in return bestowed a
protection, founded equally on gratitude and a consciousness of
his own interest. Hence, the Highlanders, with more savage
nations, called savage, carried in the outward expression of their
* See pages 53 and 51.
S
11.-1
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
manners the politeness of courts without their vices; and in their
bosoms, the high point of honour, without its follies.
Dress.—The dress of the Highlander, which was the last re¬
mains of the Roman habit in Europe, was well suited to the na¬
ture of their country, and still better to the necessities of war;
it consisted of a roll of light woollen, called a plaid, six yards in
length, and two in breadth, wrapped loosely round the body, the
upper lappet of which rested on the left shoulder, leaving the
right arm at full liberty; a jacket of thick cloth fitted tightly to
the body, and a loose short garment of light woollen, which went
round the waist, and covered the thigh. In rain they formed
the plaid into folds, and laying it on the shoulders, were covered
as with a roof. When they were obliged to be abroad on the
hills in their hunting parties, or tending their cattle, or in war,
the plaid served them both for bed and covering; for, when three
men slept together, they could spread three folds of cloth below,
and six above them. The garters of their stockings were tied
under the knee, w ith a view to give more freedom to the limb;
and they wore no breeches that they might climb the moun¬
tains with greater ease. The lightness or looseness of their
dress, the habit they had of going always on foot, never on
horseback, their love of long journies, and above all, that pa¬
tience of hunger and every kind of hardship, which carried their
bodies forward even after their spirits were exhausted, made
them exceed all other European nations in speed and perseve¬
rance of march. They marched sometimes sixty miles a-day,
without food or halting, over mountains, among rocks, through
morasses. In encampments they were expert in forming beds
in a moment, by tying together bundles of heath, and fixing them
upright in the ground; an art which, as the beds were both soft
and dry, preserved their health in the field, when other soldiers
lost theirs.
Arms.—Their arms were a broadsword, a dagger, called the
dirk, a target, a musket and two pistols, so that they carried the
long sword of the Celts, the pugio of the Romans, the shield of
the ancients, and both kinds of modern fire-arms altogether. In
battle they threw away the plaid and garment, and fought in
their jackets; making.thus their movements quicker, and their
ARMS.
US
strokes more forcible. Their advance to battle was rapid, like
the charge of dragoons ; when near the enemy they stopped
a little, to draw breath and discharge their muskets, which they
then dropped on the ground; advancing they fired their pistols,
which they threw almost at the same instant at the heads of their
opponents. They then rushed into their ranks with the broad¬
sword as they ran on, so as to conquer the enemy's eye, while
his body was yet unhurt. They fought not in long and, regular
lines, but in separate bands, like wedges condensed and firm;
the army being ranged according to the clans that composed it,
and each clan according to its families; so that there arose a
competition in valour, clan with clan, of family with family, of
brother with brother. To make an opening in regular troops,
and to conquer, they reckoned the same thing, because in close
engagements, and in broken ranks, no regular troops could
withstand them. They received the bayonet in the target, which
they carried on the left arm; then, turning it aside, or twisting-
it in the target, they attacked with the broadsword the encum¬
bered and defenceless enemy; and where they could not wield the
broadsword, they attacked with the dirk. The only foes they
dreaded were cavalry, to which many causes contributed:—the
novelty of the enemy; their want of the bayonet to receive the
shock of the horse ; the attack made upon them with their own
weapon, the broadsword; the size of dragoon horses appearing
greater to them, from a comparison with those of their own coun¬
try ; but above all, a belief entertained universally among the
lower class of Highlanders, that a war-horse is taught to light
with his feet and teeth.
Notwithstanding all these advantages, the victories of the High¬
landers have always been more honourable for themselves than
of consequence to others. A river stopped them, because they
were unaccustomed to swim; a fort had the same effect, because
they knew not the science of attack: they wanted cannon, car¬
riages, and magazines, from their poverty and ignorance of the
arts; they spoke an unknown language, and therefore could derive
their resources only from themselves. Although their respect for
their chieftains gave them, as long as they continued in the held,
that exact habit of obedience, which the excessive rigour of disci¬
pline only can secure over other troops, yet, as soon as the victory
was gained, they accounted their duty, which was to conquer,
s*
116
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
fulfilled^ and many of them ran home to recount their feats,
and store up their plunder. In spring and harvest many were
obliged to retire, or leave their women and children to die of
famine ; their chieftains too were apt to separate from the army
upon quarrels and points of honour amongst themselves and
with others^
Diffusion of Knowledge.—The contrast of the state of know¬
ledge in the Highlands some fifty years back, compared with
the present improved condition of these parts, is universally ac¬
knowledged. The author of the Gaelic Dictionary published in
1778, in his preface to that work, even at that period, exclaims,
with enthusiastic fervour, in the following words " The im¬
provements which have taken place in the Highlands within the
last half century, as well as in the minds of the inhabitants, have
been strangely neglected in an age when every other country
emerges from obscurity and ignorance, till some changes were
forced upon them by a late law,* I shall not say how politic. To
see a people natu rally capable of every improvement, though
once misled by ignorance, stripped of their ancient habits and
customs, and deprived of the Scriptures in their own tongue, the
right of Christians, never denied to the most savage Indians, is
at once a complication of inhumanity and imprudence. Better
slay their bodies to secure their affections, as Rome was wont to
say with heretics to bring their souls to Heaven, than keep them
in ignorance, with the expectation that after some generations,
the English language, manners, and improvements may begin
to dawn. At this day there is no equal number of people in
Britain so useful to the state. Upon every emergency they
supply our navy with good seamen and our armies with valiant
soldiers. But strip them of their dress, language, the name and
honour of Gael, and they soon degenerate. Their habit, lan¬
guage, life, and honour they have always kept or parted with at
once. The honour of their name, their habit, and a Gaelic speech
have always inspired them more than the consecration of the «
colours. Government, by preserving these privileges to them
sacred as their arce et foci, might have at least one part of the
* The law alluded to was made in 1745, when their own language was pro¬
scribed to them, and the English forced upon them.
CIVILISATION.
117
community, of whom they, on any emergency, might say with
the Roman general, "I know the tenth legion will not desert
me." From this I would infer that the Gael should be taught
to read the Scriptures in their own language, by which popery,
that ever grows on the soil of ignorance, might be for ever ex¬
terminated. Is there no Bishop Bedel, no Robert Boyle in our
days, and is the society for propagating Christian knowledge
only a name ?" Yes, might we reply to this exclamation of our
departed friend, all our reflections and reproaches were, too
well deserved. But how wonderful now is the increase of know¬
ledge among the Highlanders of Scotland, owing to the labours
of the school for propagating Christian knowledge, and especially
to those of the Gaelic schools, whose benign influence has en¬
lightened every glen where even the natural sun cannot pene¬
trate! Thousands, now, from the age of four to that of ninety,
have learned to read; the schools being circulating and held in
the open air, while the Bible Society has furnished every hut
and individual with the Scriptures in the Gaelic language.
Civilisation.—The natives of the Highlands, and the isles, are
at this present moment as much civilized in their manners, and
under as just a subordination to the laws, as any people what¬
ever ; so that in no part of the world is property more secure,
or lawless violence more rare among the body of the people,
than there; insomuch a single peace-officer, unattended and
unarmed, can execute without difficulty or danger to himself,
any commission that the law may require. A stranger also in
those regions, may go where he will in perfect safety; and if he
behaves with decent politeness, he will not only not be insulted,
but will be kindly entertained wherever he goes, with a cheerful
and unaffected hospitality. On these unknown coasts, shipwrecks
must sometimes happen; and, in all cases of that nature, the
mariners are not only saved, where it can possibly be done, and
kindly entertained; but their property is secured and preserved
with a degree of care that reflects the highest honour upon the
natives.
Family Pride.—An intelligent reader may easily perceive that
the family pride which is perhaps not yet totally annihilated as
118
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
not to be perceptible in Scotland, was owing to the feudal insti¬
tutions which reigned there in all their horrors of blood and
barbarity.* Their family differences, especially those of the
Highlanders, familiarized them to blood and slaughter; and the
death of an enemy, however effected, was always a matter of
triumph. These passions did not live in the breasts of the com¬
mon people only, for they were authorised and cherished by
their chieftains, many of whom were men who had seen the
world, were conversant in the courts of Europe, masters of polite
literature, and amiable in all the duties of civil and social life.
Their kings, excepting some of them who were endowed with
extraordinary virtues, were considered in little other light than
commanders of their army in time of war; for in time of peace
their civil authority was so little felt, that every clan or family,
even in the most civilized parts of Scotland, looked upon its own
chieftain as the sovereign. Those ideas were confirmed even
by the laws which gave those petty tyrants a power of life or
death upon their own estates, and they generally executed in
four-and-twenty hours after the party was apprehended. The
pride which those chieftains had of outvying with each other,' in
the numbers of their followers, created perpetual animosities,
which seldom or never ended without bloodshed; so that the
common people, whose best qualification was a blind devotion
to the will of their master, and the aggrandizement of his name,
lived in a state of continual hostility. The late Archibald Doug¬
las, Duke of Argyle, was the first chieftain we have heard of,
who had the patriotism to attempt to reform his dependents,
and to banish from them those barbarous ideas. His example
* Many Scottisli gentlemen still pique themselves upon their family, and the
antiquity of their descent; in this respect they are frequently not the most social
members of society ; because, forgetful of the virtues which enabled their ances¬
tors, they imitate them only in their capricious vanity and vindictive feeling.
Those who go abroad, and endeavour by industry to raise the lowness of their
circumstances, excel in all the social, civil, commercial, and military duties.
There is a king of similarity in their personal characters, and by seeing one
Scotsman who acquires a fortune abroad, you have a specimen of nearly the
whole. They are hospitable, open, communicative, and charitable. They as¬
similate to the manners of the people with whom they live, with more ease and
freedom, than the natives of most other countries, and they have a surprising
facility for the acquisition of languages; and indeed, for sciences and arts ot
every kind, they manifest a peculiar aptitude.
CHRISTMAS-DAY.
119
has been followed by others; and it is pleasing to see that the
wild and ferocious habits of the Highlander have been gradually
and successfully reconciled to all the milder habits of society.
A Banquet.—A line picture of a Highland banquet is to be
found in the " Tales of the Canongate." * It conveys to our mind a
more lively idea of the mountain manner of earlier days than we
could otherwise possibly get from any other source—manners,
in fact, the impressions of which are not yet wholly obliterated
from the present handy and blended race of the " Saxon and
the Gael." The fine local description, the varied and vivid re¬
presentations of human nature, are quite in keeping with the line
descriptive tact and fertile imagination of the author.
Christmas-day.—No sooner does the brightening glow of the
eastern sky warn the anxious housemaid of the approach of
Christmas, than she rises full of anxiety at the prospect of her
morning labours. The meal which was steeped in the " sowan
bowie" a fortnight ago, to make the " Prechdachden sour," or
" sour scones," is the first object of her attention. The gridiron
(girdle) is put on the fire, and the sour scones are soon followed
by hard cakes, buttered cakes and branded bann«ocks, and ban-
nichfrem. The baking being once over, the sowans pot suc¬
ceeds the gridiron, full of new sowans which are to be given to
the family, agreeably to custom, this day in their beds. The
sowans are boiled to the consistence of molasses, when the
" Lagan le vrich," or east bread, to distinguish it from boiled
sowans, is ready. It is then poured into as many bickers as
there are individuals to partake of it, and presently served to
the whole, old and young.
On such an occasion, it would well become the pencil of a
Hogarth, or the pen of a Burns, to illustrate the scenes which
follow. The ambrosial food is dispatched in aspiring draughts
by the family, who soon give evident proofs of the enlivening
elfects of the " Lagan le vrich." As soon as each has emptied
his bicker of its contents, he jumps out of bed—the elder
* See The Fair Maid of Perth, p. 383—389.
120
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS,
branches to examine the ominous characters or signs of the
day ;* and the younger to enter upon its amusements.
Flocking to the swing is a favorite amusement on this oc¬
casion ; the youngest of the family gets the first " shoulder," and
the next oldest to him in regular succession. In order to add
the more to the spirit of the exercise, it is a common practice
with the person in the swing, and the person appointed to swing
him, to enter into a very warm and humorous altercation. As
the swinged person approaches the swinger, he exclaims " Ei
mi tu chal," " I'll eat your kailto this the swinger replies, with
a violent shove, " Cha in u mu chal," " you shan't eat my kail."
These threats and reproaches are sometimes carried to such a
height, as to break down or capsize the threatener, which ge¬
nerally puts an end to the quarrel.
As the day advances, these minor amusements are terminated at
the report of the gun, or the rattle of the ball-clubs—the gun in¬
viting the marksmen to the " Kiavamuchd" or prize shooting, and
the latter to the " Tuckd vouil," or the ball combatants—both the
principal sports of the day. Tired at length of the active amuse¬
ments of the field, they exchange them for the substantial enter¬
tainments of the table, groaning under the load of "sonsy faced
haggies," and many other savoury dainties, unseen for twelve
months before. The relish communicated to the company by
the appearance of the festive board, may be more easily con¬
ceived than described. The dinner once dispatched, the flowing
bowl succeeds, and the sparkling glass flies to and fro, like a
weaver's shuttle. As it continues its rounds, the spirits of the
company become more jovial and happy. Animated by his ex¬
hilarating powers, even old decrepitude no longer feels its ha¬
bitual pains, the fire of youth is in its eye, as he details to the
company the exploits which distinguished him in the " days of
Auld Lang Syne," while the young, inflamed with "love and
glory," long to mingle in the more lively scenes of mirth, to dis¬
play their prowess and agility.
Leaving the patriarchs to finish those professions of friendship
for each other, in which they are so devoutly engaged, the
* The following are common sayings both in the Highlands and Lowlands :
" A black Christmas makes a fat kirkyard"—"A windy Christmas and a calm
Candlemas are signs of a good year.
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
121
younger part of the company shape their course to the ball¬
room, or to the card-table, as their individual inclinations suggest,
and the remainder of the evening is spent amid the greatest
pleasure and hilarity of which human nature is susceptible.
The Schoolmaster.—There are but two countries in Europe
more remarkable than Scotland, for the learning and usefulness
of their schoolmasters. These are Switzerland and Sweden.
In these countries there is a regular school in every parish
amply maintained at the public expense, and the masters, who
are remarkably well qualified, held in considerable respect.
The great Gessner, one of the first and most successful restorers
of learning, and the celebrated and elegant Castalio, besides
many other men of note in literature, were schoolmasters in
Switzerland. It is by these means, that the Swiss and the
Swedes, though poor, are from the highest to the lowest the
best educated people in Europe ; and the radical advantage has
always appeared in their character, both as a nation and as in¬
dividuals. The character of the Highland schoolmasters, as
associated with the earliest feelings of his pupils, and ever after
cimented by the most durable friendship and regard, is accu¬
rately pourtrayed in the following sentimental sketch, with which
we have been favoured from another hand.
" Chance led me to the old man's humble dwelling; but the
impression which his benevolence made on my mind, no time or
chance, no change of age, of circumstance, or of situation, will
ever have power to efface. Chance, I say, conducted me to
the homely habitation of the village schoolmaster. Losing my
road in the wilds of Badenoch, I halted, and cast an anxious
and fearful eye around, in order to sea if a man and a brother
were within hail; for the veil of night was dropping over the
earth, and I trembled lest its sable covering should soon render
every form and feature thereof indiscernable.
" The old man at a distance looked almost like a speck upon
the face of darkness. As his stature increased by approach, it
grew of still greater magnitude and importance. He stepped up
to me with a cheerful, confident air, whistling a strathspey, and
followed by two shaggy Highland dogs, full of fidelity and in¬
telligence. " Guid e'en to ye," said he, making a rustic bow,
" ye need na he afraid o'being benighted ; for if even we were to
122
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
miss the road, Whiskey and Calamdubh* (the names of his dogs)
would conduct us safe hame." I here observed that W hiskey had
led me a sad dance; for that a generous Highlander had kept
me so long at his house, taking a lunch and the cup o'better
acquaintance, and then the cup o'friendship, and lastly, the
" dochan dorish," that I had lost count of time, and was ap¬
prehensive of losing my way and of having to bivouac as I had
sometime done on service. ' Hout!' cried he with an air of
disdain towards care or misadventure, ' ye maun juist tak a
wi drap mair in my cabin the night, and a check o'mutton
ham, and a muir fool wi me, for it's quite dangerous to pass the
fuird.'
" I accepted the old man's invitation and partook of the hos¬
pitality of his cottage; but the morning scene is that which
dwells most in my mind. I had gone in company with the
schoolmaster's son, to look over the improvement of his very
small farm, in which courtesy and gratitude taught me to take
all possible interest. When, on entering his saloon, boudoir,
study, library, refectory (for they were all one and the same
apartment), I saw two tall sunburnt, weather-beaten, young
men enter. The one was in "the garb of old Gaul;" the other
had on a regimental great coat and a highland bonnet, with an
eagle's feather in it.
" The old man rose and gave a pure Highland shout, demon¬
strative of surprise and ecstasy; and, with electrical rapidity,
the two youths had each a hand of the schoolmaster clenched
in both of theirs. They shook him heartily; and for a few se¬
conds, it was the magic eloquence of eyes, the matchless expres¬
sion of silence. At length the old man relieved his bosom by
ejaculating, ' Hegh! hegh! Sirs; and is it ye after seven lang
years o'absence, in which ' ye've wandered mony a weary fit.'
What broght ye here ?' and (his face lit up with smiles and rosy
health, his nerves doubly strung, his pulse dancing with the ve¬
locity of youth, and proud self-approbation crimsoning his cheek),
' is it possible ye hae come on purpose to see me ?'
" ' Just sae, my worthy maister,' said the eldest. ' Just sae,
my dear Dominie,' exclaimed the younger, with an arch and
affectionate air, and tapping him sportively and kindly on the
* Black Malcolm.
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
123
back. ' Tears rapped down the auld mans1 cheeks', and again
all was momentary silence.
"' How's mother ?' cried one of them. ' Oh! brawly,' replied
the schoolmaster, ' She'll be maist out o' her senses wi joy to
see ye : we heard that ye were killed at Talavera.' ' Tut!'
exclaimed they simultaneously, with a manly and soldierlike ex¬
pression of contempt of danger: ' Sandy got a clink upon's
airm, but he can wield the braid sword yet; and as for me, it
seemed that bullets had no fancy for me, for plenty of them played
crack upon comrades' heads, but I got off Scot free.'
" ' But, I say, how's auld Syntax, the shelty (the pony) ?' here
the schoolmaster heaved a deep sigh; ' puir beastie,' replied he,
in a subdued tone, 'he is deed.' ' it,' exclaimed the
youngest warrior, ' I wud nae a had him die for a purse o' goud.'
And here the rose twice visited and left his cheek. ' What
pranks I hae played with the puir beastie!' Here he looked
back to infantine days and sports, whilst the gravity of retrospect
sat singularly becoming on the front of youth. ' Hegh ! hegh I'
concluded he, which meant, 'every thing is transitory in this
nether world.'
" The old man quite forgot me, and I forgot myself, standing
in profound attentiveness, and in undivided respect for the actor
in this scene of sensibility. At length, starting and apologizing,
he introduced me to the two young officers, who shook me by
the hand as a friend and comrade at first sight.
" I will not disappoint the reader by any common-place words
that passed betwixt us. Suffice it to say, that these two laurelled
youths could not stay. They embraced the old lady, the school¬
master's wife. The old man expressed every term of regret at
their short stay; and conducted them, walking betwixt them, and
linked hand in hand, bald and bare-headed, and with his silver
locks whistling in the Highland breeze. At length they shook
hands, looked eloquently at each other, and he saw them out of
sight.
" Who were the young men ?—His sons ? No.— His relatives P
No.—His patrons or benefactors ? No.—They were merely
his scholars in their juvenile years; and, out of respect and love
for the old man, they had travelled thirty miles to see him. All
the localities of their childhood were dear to them; all the as-
124
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
sociations of passed time weighed deeply in their minds. How
creditable to youth this feeling! how honourable to old age, and
to the old man's deserts!
"My uncle Toby most truly says, 'the bravest men are always
the best.' Here were living examples of this undeniable truth.
What might not be expected from these youths, who thus ve¬
nerated the instructor of their infant years. And here we can¬
not omit naming and honouring the naive remark of the African
Prince (Leban), who was educated in England. He said, that
he ' considered the preceptor or teacher of youth as the most
noble avocation of the state; since to infuse knowledge and cul¬
tivate wisdom was making him the direct agent of divinity.'"
The hospitality of a Highlander has never yet been questioned.
His lunch and " the cup o' better acquaintance," and then "the
cup o' friendship," and, lastly, the " Dochan Dorish," have been
experienced early and late by all who have visited their blessed
retirement, and simplicity of manners,—true parents of friend¬
ship and hospitality. In great towns man mistrusts man. In
these wilds, bleak muirs, and woods of sepulchral pine, man
clings to man, every heart beats in unison, hand seeks for hand,
and the links of social connexion are double-locked and rivetted
to each other.
It would be indeed an insult to clothe in wordiness and cir¬
cumlocution, the kind reception, the genuine Highland welcome
with which the stranger is hailed. Every Highlander is hos¬
pitable ; and he " maks nae words aboot it."—Good bed, good
cheer, good humour, honest civility, and improving converse,
sweeten every hour between labour and repose. To this ge¬
nerous reception and universal spirit of hospitality, may be at¬
tributed the want of many of the conveniences which their
country-side inns are, compared with their more southern neigh¬
bours, deficient of. Satire is by no means our aim in these
pages; should, however, the following description of a Highland
Inn appear to be too exaggerated, either the author of it, at the
time, had sipped too potently of the ' mountain dew,' from the
genuine production of which the Highlands are so remarkable;
or he was determined to be fastidiously humorous at the ex¬
pense of his host, without probably meaning to make the ap¬
plication general, or even strictly particular.
A HEDGE ALEHOUSE.
125
A Hedge Alehouse.*—The following semi-burlesque description
of a roadside inn, is, in fact, more amusing than consistent with
truth—though some resemblances are not altogether incorrect
at some distance of time, among the bleak and thinly populated
mountains.—" Arrived at mine host's, early or late, if you are
wet, the fire will be lighted by the time you are dry ; at least if
the peat is not wet too. The smoke of wet peat is wholesome;
and if you are not used to it, the inmates are, which is the very
same thing. There is neither poker nor tongs; you can stir the
fire with your umbrella: nor bellows; you can blow it, unless you
are asthmatic, with your mouth; or what is better still, Peggy
will fan it with her petticoat.—' Peggy, is the supper coming ?'
In time come mutton, called chops (qy collops), then mustard,
by and by a knife and fork; successively, a plate, a candle, and
salt. When the mutton is cold, the pepper arrives, and then
the bread, and lastly the whiskey. The water is reserved for
the second course. By this time the fire is dying; Peggy waits
till it is dead, and the whole process of the peats and petticoats
is to be gone over again. ' Peggy, is the bed ready ?' By the
time you have fallen asleep once or twice, it is ready. When
you enter it, it is damp: but how should it be dry in such a cli¬
mate ? The blankets feel so heavy that you expect to get warm
in time. Not at all; they have the property of weight without
warmth; though there is a pulling mill at Kilmahog. You awake
at two o'clock, very cold, and find that they have slipped over
on the floor. You try to square them again; but such is their
weight that they fall on the other side; and, at last, by dint of
kicking and pulling, they become immediately entangled, sheets
and all; and sleep flies, whatever King Harry may think, to take
refuge on other beds and other blankets.
" It is in vain you try again to court the drowsy god, and you
get up at five. Water being so contemptibly common, it is
probable that there is none present; or if there is, it has a de¬
licious flavour of stale whiskey; so that you may almost imagine
the Highland rills to run grog. There is no soap in Mrs. Mac-
larty's house. It is prudent also to learn to shave without a
looking-glass; because if there be one present, it is so furrowed
* A hundred and ' Thrctty sax' years ago.
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
and stripped, and striated, either crossways, perpendicularly, or
diagonally, that, in consequence of what Sir Isaac Newton might
call its fits of irregular reflection and transmission, you cut your
nose if it distorts you one way, and your ears if it protracts you
in the opposite direction.
" The towel being either wet or dirty, or both, you wipe
yourself with the Moreen curtains, unless you prefer the sheets.
When you return to your sitting-room, the table is covered
with glasses and mugs, and circles of dried whiskey and porter.
The fire-place is full of white ashes. You labour to open a
window, if it will open, that you may get a little of the morn¬
ing air, and there being no sash line, it falls on your fingers,
as it did on Susannah's. Should you break a pane, it is of no
consequence, as it will never be mended again. The clothes
which you sent to be washed, are brought up wet, and those
which you sent to be dried, smoked."
The Bagpipes.—In the last volume of the " Decline and Fall
of the Roman Empire," Mr. Gibbon observes, that " Expe¬
rience has proved, that the mechanical operation of sounds,
by quickening the circulation of the blood and spirits, will act
on the human machine more forcibly than the eloquence of
reason and honour." Of this remark, the following anecdote,
from a Tour in England and Scotland, is a remarkable illustra¬
tion : "Beyond all memory or tradition, the favourite instrument
of the Scotch musicians has been the bagpipe, introduced into
Scotland at a very early period by the Norwegians. The large
bagpipe is the instrument of the Highlanders for w ar, for funeral
processions, for marriage, and other great occasions. They have
also a smaller kind, on which dancing tunes are played. A cer¬
tain species of this wind-music, called pibrochs, rouses the na¬
tive Highlanders in the same way that the sound of the trumpet
does the war horse; and even produces effects little less mar¬
vellous than those recorded of the ancient music.
At the battle of Quebec, in April, 1760, while the British
troops w ere retreating in great confusion, the general officer
complained to a field officer of Frazer's regiment, of the bad
behaviour of his corps. " Sir," answered he with some warmth,
" you did very wrong in forbidding the pipers to play; nothing
encourages Highlanders so much in a day of action : nay, even
THE BAGPIPES.
127
now they would be of use."—" Let them blow then like the
devil," replied the general, " if that will bring back the men."
The pipes were ordered to play a favourite martial air. The
Highlanders, the moment they heard the music, returned and
formed with alacrity in the rear.—In the late war in India, Sir
Eyre Coote, after the battle of Porto Nuovo, being aware of the
strong attachment of the Highlanders to their ancient music,
expressed his approbation of their behaviour on that day, by
giving them fifty pounds to buy a pair of bagpipes.*
The following (more recent) anecdote is related of Serjeant
Alexander Cameron, Piper Major of the 92d, or Cameronian
Highlanders, whose merits as a performer on the Highland bag¬
pipes were generally acknowledged to be of the first wind,
though they could not be duly appreciated but by those who felt
the inspiring effects of his animating strains on the toilsome
march, or amid the thunder of the battle. He served on the
Peninsula, during the whole of the late war, and by his zeal
attracted the notice of several officers of high rank. Lieutenant-
General Sir William Erskine, in a letter to a friend, after the
affair of Rio del Molinas, says, " the first intimation the enemy
had of our approach, was the piper of the 92d, playing, " Hey
Johnie Cope, are ye waking yet." To this favourite air from
Cameron's pipe, the streets of Brussels re-echoed on the 15th of
June, when the regiment assembled to march out to the field
of Waterloo. Once, and once only, was this brave soldier missed
in his accustomed place in the front of the battle, and the occa¬
sion strongly marks the powerful influence which the love of
fame had upon his mind. In a London paper, a very Battering
eulogium had appeared on the conduct of a piper of another re¬
giment. Our gallant musician, conscious that no one could sur¬
pass him in zeal or intrepidity, felt hurt that he should not also
have gained this flattering distinction, and declared, that " if his
name did not appear in the newspapers, he would no more play
in the battle field!" Accordingly, in the next affair with the
enemy, Cameron's "bellows ceased to blow"—his pipe was mute!
some insinuations against the piper reached his ear. The bare
idea of his motives being misunderstood was torture to poor Ca¬
meron, and overcame at once the sullen resolution he had formed
* See a eurious and interesting volume, entitled " Demonologia, or Natural
Knowledge revealed," by J. S. F. p. 194, published, 1827.
128
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
of remaining silent in tire rear. He rushed forward, and not con¬
tent with gaining his place at the head of the regiment, advanced
with a party of skirmishers, and, placing himself on a height, in
full view of the enemy, continued to animate the party by playing
favourite national airs. For the last two years of his life his
health sensibly declined. He was afflicted with an asthma, which
the blowing of the pipes tended to aggravate. Notwithstanding
he could not be induced to relinquish his favourite employment,
but continued to play within a very short time of his death "the
gathering1' for the daily assembling of the regiment. He died
at Belfast, October 18th, 1817. His remains were attended to
the grave by several officers, all the non-commissioned officers,
and the grenadier company, to which the deceased belonged.
Presentiment.—The nearer we approach to times when su¬
perstition shall be universally exploded, the more we consign to
oblivion the antiquated notions of former days, respecting every
degree of supernatural agency or communication. It is not
long ago, however, since second sight, as it is called, peculiar
to the Scotch Highlanders, was a subject of dispute, and although
it be true, as some assert, that all argument is against it, yet
it is equally certain that we have many well asserted facts for it.
We think upon the whole that this question is placed in its true
light, in the following communication from a gentleman in
Scotland, who had opportunities to know the facts he relates,
and who has evidently sense enough not to carry them farther
than they will bear. What is called in this part of the island
by the French word pressentiment, appears to us to be a
species of second sight, and it is by no means uncommon : why
it is less attended to in the " busy haunts of men,"' than in the
sequestered habitations of the Highlanders, is accounted for by
the following detail, and we apprehend upon very just grounds.
" Of all the subjects which philosophers have chosen for exer¬
cising their faculty of reasoning, there is not one more worthy
of their attention than the contemplation of the human mind.
There they will find an ample field wherein they may range at
large, and display their powers; but at the same time it must be
observed, that here, unless the philosopher calls in religion to
his aid, he will be lost in a labyrinth of fruitless conjectures, and
here, in particular, he will be obliged to have a reference to a
PRESENTIMENT.
12!)
great first cause, as the mind of man (whatever may be asserted
of material substances) could never be formed by chance; and
he will find his affections so infinitely various, that instead of
endeavouring to investigate, he will be lost in admiration.
" The faculty or affections of the mind attributed to our neigh¬
bours of the Highlands of Scotland, of having a foreknowledge
of future events, or, as it is commonly expressed, having the
second sight, is perhaps one of the most singular. Many have
been the arguments both for and against the real existence of
this wonderful gift. I shall not be an advocate on either side,
but I shall presume to give you a fact or two, which I know to
be well authenticated, and from which every one is at liberty to
infer what they please.
" The late Rev. D. M'Sween was minister of a parish in the
high parts of Aberdeenshire, and was a native of the Isle of Sky,
where his mother continued to reside. On the 4th of May,
1738, Mr. M'Sween, with his brother, who often came to visit
him from Sky, were walking in the fields. After some interval
in their discourse, during which the minister seemed to be lost
in thought, his brother asked him what was the matter with
him; he made answer he hardly could tell, but he was certain
that their mother was dead. His brother endeavoured to reason
him out of his opinion, but in vain. And upon his brother's
return home, he found his mother had really died on that very
day on which he was walking with the minister.
" In April, 1744, a man of the name of Forbes, walking over
Culloden Muir,35 with two or three others, was suddenly, as it
were, lost in thought, and when in some short time after he was
interrupted by his companions, he very accurately described the
battle that was fought on that very spot two years afterwards;
at which description his companions laughed heartily, as there
was no expectation of the Pretender's coming to Britain at that
time."
Many such instances might be adduced, but these, I am afraid,
are sufficient to stagger the credulity of most people. But to
the incredulous I shall only say, that I am very far from attri¬
buting the second sight to the Highlanders mere than to our¬
selves. I am pretty certain there is no man whatever, who is
not sometimes seized with a foreboding in his mind, or as it may
9
130
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
be termed, a kind of reflection which it is not in his power to
prevent; and although his thoughts may not be employed in
any particular kind of exigency, yet he is apt to dread from
that quarter where he is more immediately concerned. This
opinion is agreeable to all the heathen mythologists, particularly
Homer and Virgil, where numerous instances might be brought
forward, and these justified in the event; but there is an au¬
thority which I hold in more veneration than all the others put
together, I mean that now much disused book called the Bible,
where we meet with many examples, which may corroborate
the existence of such an affection in the mind; and that too in
persons who were not ranked among prophets. I shall in¬
stance one or two. The first is in the 14th chapter of I. Samuel,
where it is next to impossible to imagine that had not Jonathan
been convinced of some foreboding in his mind, that he should
certainly be successful, he and his armour-bearer being only
two in number, would never have encountered a whole garrison
of the enemy. Another instance is in the Gth chapter of Esther
wbere the king of Persia (who was no prophet) was so much
troubled in his mind, that he could not sleep, neither could he
assign any reason for his being so, till the very reason was dis¬
covered from the means that w ere used to divert his melancholy,
viz. the reading of the records, where he found he had forgot
to do a thing which he was under an obligation to perform.
Many of the most judicious modern authors also favour this
opinion. Addison makes his Cato, some time before his fatal
exit, express himself thus: " What means this heaviness that
hangs upon me?" Shakspeare also makes Banquo exclaim,
when he is about to set out on a journey: "A heavy summons
hangs like lead upon me!" De Foe makes an instance of this
kind the means of saving the life of Robinson Crusoe, at the
same time admonishes his readers not to make light of these
emotions of the mind, but to be upon their guard, and pray to
God to assist them and bear them through, and direct them in
what may happen to their prejudice in consequence thereof.
To what then are we to attribute these singular emotions ?
Shall we impute them to the agency of spiritual beings called
guardian Angels, or more properly to the divinity that stirs
within us, and points out an hereafter? However it may be,
PRESENTIMENT.
131
it is our business to make the best of such hints, which we are
confident every man must have experienced, perhaps more fre¬
quently than he is aware of.
In great towns the hurry and dissipation that attend the
opulent, and the little leisure that the poor have, from following
the avocations which necessity drives them to, prevent them
from taking any notice of similar instances to the foregoing,
which may happen to themselves. But the case is quite dif¬
ferent in the Highlands of Scotland, where they live solitary,
and have little to do, or see done, and consequently, compara¬
tively have but few ideas. When any thing of the above nature
occurs, they have leisure to brood over it, and cannot get it
banished from their minds; by which means it gains a deep and
lasting impression, and often various circumstances may happen
by which it may be interpreted, just like the ancient oracles by
the priests of the heathen deities. This solitary situation of our
neighbours is also productive of an opinion of worse tendency
—I mean the belief in spirits and superstitions, to which no
people on earth are more addicted than the Scotch Highlanders ;
this opinion they suck in with their mother's milk, and it in¬
creases with their years and stature. Not a glen or strath, but
is haunted by its particular goblins and fairies. And, indeed,
the face of the country is in some places such, that it wears a
very solemn appearance, even to a philosophic eye. The fall
of cataracts of water down deep declivities, the whistling of the
wind heath, rocks, and caverns, a loose fragment of a rock
falling from its top, and in its course downward bringing a
hundred more with it, so that it appears like the wreck of
nature; the hooting of the night-owl—the chattering of the heath
cock—the pale light of the moon or the dreary prospect, with
here and there a solitary tree on an eminence, which tree mag¬
nifies to an unusual size; all these considered, it is not to be
wondered at, that even an enlightened mind should be struck
with awe: what then must be the emotion of a person prejudiced
from his infancy, when left alone in such a situation ?
Until the last century, the spirit Brownie, in the Highlands of
Scotland, was another story of second sight, as the following
story will show :—" Sir Norman MacLeod, playing at tables, at
a game called by the Irish Palmer-more, wherein there are three
of a side, and each of them throw dice by turns; there happened
9 *
13-2
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
to bs one difficult point in disposing the table-men; this obliged
the gamester to pause, before he changed his man, since upon
the disposing of it, the winning or losing of the game depended.
At last, the butler who stood behind him, advised the player
where to place his man; with which he complied and won the
game. This being thought extraordinary, and Sir Norman
hearing one whisper in the ear, asked who advised him so skil¬
fully? He answered, it was the butler; but this seemed more
strange, for he could not play at tables. Upon this, Sir Norman
asked him how long it was since he had learned how to play ?
and the fellow owned that he had never played in his life; but
that he saw the spirit Brownie reaching his arm over the player's
head, and touching the part with his linger on the point where
the table-man was to be placed."*
The circumstance, however, deserving most notice, is the re¬
ference which the object of second sight is supposed to bear
to the seer's assumed gift of prophecy. It is said in one of the
numerous illustrations which have been given of this faculty,
that " Sir Norman MacLeod, who has his residence in the isle
of Bernera which lies between the isle of North Uist and Harris,
went to the isle of Skye about business, without appointing any
time for his return: his servants, in his absence, being alto¬
gether in the large hall at night, one of them, who had been
accustomed to see the second sight, told the rest they must re¬
move, for they would have abundance of company that night.
One of his fellow servants answered that there was very little
appearance of that, and if he had any vision of company, it was
not likely to be accomplished this night; but the seer insisted
upon it that it was. They continued to argue the improbability
of it, because of the darkness of the night, and the danger of
coming through the rocks that lie round the isle; but within
an hour after, one of Sir Norman's men came to the house,
bidding them to provide lights, &c. for his master had newly
landed."
* There is a species to whom, in the Highlands, is ascribed the guardianship
or superintendence of a particular clan, or family of distinction. Thus the fa¬
mily Gurlingbeg was haunted by a spirit called Garlen Bodachar; that of the
Baron of Kilcliarden, by Sandear or Red-Hand, a spectre one of whose hands
is as red as blood; and that of Tullochgorum by May Moulach, a female figure,
whose left hand and arm were covered with hair, who is also mentioned as a
familiar attendant upon the clan Grant,—Border Minstrelsy.
PRESENTIMENT.
133
Dr. Ferriar gives the following illustrations of second sight
in his " Theory of Apparitions."
" A gentleman connected with my family, an officer in the
army, and certainly addicted to no superstition, was quartered
early in life, in the middle of the last century, near the castle of
a gentleman in the north of Scotland, who was supposed to pos¬
sess the second sight. Strange rumours were afloat respecting
the old chieftain. He had spoken to an apparition, which ran
along the battlements of the house, and had never been cheerful
afterwards. His prophetic visions surprised even in the regions
of credulity; and his retired habits favoured the popular opi¬
nions. My friend assured me, that one day, while he was read¬
ing a play to the ladies of the family, the chief, who had been
walking across the room, stopped suddenly and assumed the
look of a seer. He rang the bell and ordered a groom to saddle
a horse; to proceed immediately to a seat in the neighbourhood,
and enquire after the health of Lady . If the account
was favorable, he then directed him to call at another castle, to
ask after another lady whom he named.
"The reader immediately closed his book, and declared he
would not proceed till those abrupt orders were explained, as he
was confident they were produced by the second sight. The
chief was very unwilling to explain himself; but at length the
door had appeared to open, and that a little woman without a
head, had entered the room; that the apparition indicated the
death of some person of his acquaintance; and the only two
persons who resembled the figure, were those ladies after whose
health he had sent to inquire. A few hours afterwards, the servant
returned with an account that one of the ladies had died of an
apoplectic fit, about the time when the vision appeared.
" At another time the chief was confined to his bed by indis¬
position, and my friend was reading to him on a stormy winter-
night, while the fishing-boat belonging to the castle was at sea.
The old gentleman repeatedly expressed much anxiety respect¬
ing his people ; and at last exclaimed: ' My boat is lost!' The
colonel replied: ' How do you know it, Sir ?' He was answered,
'I see two of the boatmen bringing in the third drowned, all
dripping wet, and laying him close beside your chair.' The
chair was shifted with great precipitation ; and in the course o(
134
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
the night the fishermen returned with the corpse of one of the
boatmen." *
It is perhaps to be lamented, that such narratives as these
should be quoted in Dr. Ferriar's Philosophic work on appari¬
tions. We have lately seen them advanced, on the Doctor's au¬
thority, as favouring the vulgar belief in apparitions, and intro¬
duced in the same volume with that of Mrs. Veal.
Ghosts.—There is perhaps no nation or clime either in the
civilized or savage state of society, where that very ancient and
fantastic race of beings ycleped ghosts, is not, under different
terms and characters, more or less familiar to the inhabitants;
but particularly to the brave mountaineers in the Highlands of
Scotland. Unlike, however, the present puny, green, worm-
eaten effigies thai now-a-days stalk about our premises, and, like
the cameleon, feed upon the air, the ancient race of Highland
ghosts were a set of stout, lusty, sociable ghosts, "as tall as a
pine, and as broad as a house." Differing widely in his habits
from those of his posterity, the ghost of antiquity would enter
the habitation of a man, descant a lee long night upon the news
of the times, until the long wished-for supper was once prepared,
when this pattern of frankness and good living would invite him¬
self to the table, and do as much justice to a bicker of Highland
crowdie as his earthly contemporaries. Indeed, if all the tales
be true, many centuries are not elapsed since those social prac¬
tices of the ghosts of the day proved an eminent pest to society.
With voracious appetites, those greedy gormandizers were in
the habit of visiting the humble hamlets, where superabundance
of store seldom resided, and of ravishing from the grasp of a starv¬
ing progeny the meagre fare allotted for their support. Beyond
their personal attractions, however, it is believed, they displayed
few enviable qualities; for, besides their continual depredations
on the goods and chattels of the adjacent hamlets, they were
ill-natured and cruel, and cared not a spittle for woman or child.
The truth of the above remark is well exemplified in the his¬
tory of two celebrated ghosts, who " once upon a time " lived,
or rather existed, in the wilds of Craig Aulnaic, a romantic place
* Demonologia, or Natural Knowledge Revealed.
GHOSTS.
135
in the district of Strathdown, Banffshire. The one was a male,
and the other was a female. The male was called Fhua Abhoir
Bein Baynac, after one of the mountains of Glenalvon, where at
one time he resided; and the female was called Clashneckd
Aulnaic. But although the great ghost of Ben Baynac was bound,
by the common ties of nature and of honour, to protect and
even cherish his weaker companion, Clashneckd Anlnaic, yet he
often treated her in the most cruel and unfeeling manner. In
the dead of the night, when the surrounding hamlets were buried
in sleep, and nothing else disturbed the solemn stillness of the
midnight scene, oft, says our narrator, would the shrill shrieks
of poor Clashneckd burst upon the slumberer's ears, and awake
him to any thing but pleasant reflections. But of all those who
were incommoded by the noise and unseemly quarrels of these
two ghosts, James Owie or Gray, the tenant of the farm ofBalbig
of Delnabo was the greatest sufferer. From the proximity of
his abode to their haunts, it was the misfortune of himself and
family to be the night audience of Clashneckds cries and la¬
mentations, which they considered any thing but agreeable en¬
tertainment.
On one occasion, as James Gray was on his rounds look¬
ing after his sheep, he happened to fall in with Clashneckd,
the ghost of Aulnaic, with whom he entered into a long con¬
versation ; in the course of which he took occasion to remonstrate
with her, on the very disagreeable disturbance she caused him¬
self and family, by her wild and unearthly cries; " Cries," said
he, "which few mortals could relish in the dreary midnight hour."
Poor Clashneckd, by way of apology for her conduct, gave James
Gray a sad account of her usage, detailing at full length the series
of cruelties committed upon her by Ben Baynac. From this
account it appeared, that her cohabitation with the latter was by
no means a matter of choice with Clashneckd; on the contrary,
it appeared that she had, for a long time, led a life of celibacy
with much comfort, residing in a snug dwelling, as already men¬
tioned, in the wilds of Craig Aulnaic; but Ben Baynac having
unfortunately taken it into his head to pay her a visit, he took
a fancy, not to herself, hut her dwelling, of which, in his own
name and authority, he took immediate possession, and soon
after expelled poor Clashneckd, with many stripes, from her
natural inheritance; while not satisfied with invading and de-
136
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
priving her of her just rights, he was in the habit of following
her into her private haunts, not with the view of offering her
any endearments, but for the purpose of inflicting on her person
every degrading torment which his brain could invent.
Such a moving story could not fail to inflict a deep wound
in the generous heart of James Gray, who determined from that
moment to risk life and limb in order to vindicate the rights, and
revenge the wrongs of poor Clashneckd, the ghost of Craig
Aulnaic. He therefore took good care to interrogate his new
protegee touching the nature of her oppressor's constitution,
whether he was of that killable species of ghost that could be
shot with a silver sixpence, or if there was any other weapon
that could possibly accomplish his annihilation. Clashneckd in¬
formed him, that he had occasion to know that Ben Baynac was
wholly invulnerable to all the wreapons of man, with the ex¬
ception of a large mole on his left breast, which no doubt was
penetrable by silver or steel j but that, from the specimen she
had of his personal prowess and strength, it were vain for mere
man to attempt to combat Ben Baynac the great ghost. Con-r
fiding, however in his expertness as an archer—for he was al¬
lowed to be the best marksman of his age—James Gray told
Clashneckd, he did not fear him with all his might, that he was
his man, and desired her, moreover, next time he chose to re¬
peat his incivilities to her, to apply to him, James Gray, for
redress.
It was not long before James had an opportunity of fulfilling
his promises. Ben Baynac having one night, for the want of
better amusement, entertained himself by inflicting an inhuman
castigation on Clashneckd, she lost no time in waiting on Gray,
with a full and particular account of it. She found him smoking
his cutty, and unbuttoning his habiliments for bed; but, notwith¬
standing the inconvenience of the hour, James needed no great
persuasion to induce him to proceed directly along with Clash¬
neckd to hold a communing with their friend Ben Baynac, the
great ghost. Clashneckd was a stout sturdy hussey, who un¬
derstood the nack of travelling much better than our women do.
She expressed a wish that, for the sake of expedition, James Gray
would mount himself on her ample shoulders, a motion to which
the latter agreed; and a few moments brought them close to the
scene of Ben Bavnac's residence. As (hey approached his haunt,
GHOSTS.
137
he came forth to meet them,"with looks and gestures, which did
not at all indicate a cordial welcome. It was a fine moonlight
night, and they could easily observe his actions. Poor Clash-
neckd was now sorely afraid of the great ghost. Apprehending
instant destruction from his fury, she exclaimed to James Gray,
that they should be both dead people, and that immediately,
unless James could hit with an arrow the noble mole which co¬
vered Ben Baynac's heart. This was not so difficult a task as
James had hitherto apprehended it. The mole was as large as a
common bonnet, and yet nowise disproportioned to the natural
size of his body, for he certainly was a great and a mighty ghost.
Ben Baynac cried out to James Gray, that he would soon make
eagle's meat of him ; and certain it is, such was his intention,
had not James Gray so effectually stopped him from the exe¬
cution of it. Raising his bow to his eye within a few yards of
Ben Baynac, he took an important aim; the arrow flew—it hit
-—a yell from Ben Baynac announced its fatality. A hideous
howl reechoed from the surrounding mountains, responsive to
the groans of a thousand ghosts, and Ben Baynac, like the smoke
of a shot, vanished into air.* Clashneckd, the ghost of Aulnaic,
now found herself emancipated from the most abject state of
slavery, and restored to freedom and liberty, through the in¬
vincible courage of James Gray. Overpowered with gratitude,
she fell at James Gray's feet, and vowed to devote the whole
of her time and talents towards his service and prosperity.
Meanwhile, being anxious to have her remaining goods and fur¬
niture removed to her former dwelling, whence she had been so
iniquitously expelled by Ben Baynac, the great ghost, she re¬
quested of her new master the use of his horses to remove them.
James observing on the adjacent hill a flock of deer, and wishing
to have a trial of his new servant's sagacity or expertness, told
her those were his horses—she was welcome to the use of them,
* To the refined reader, can any thing appear more surprising, than that
«a human being, possessing the rational faculties of human nature, could for a
moment entertain so preposterous an idea, of an immortal spirit being killed, or
rather annihilated, by an arrow, dirk, or sixpence? It was, however, the opi¬
nion of the darker ages, that such an exploit as killing a ghost was perfectly
practicable. A spirit was supposed to be material in its nature, quite susceptible
of mortal pain, and liable to death or annihilation from the weapon of man.
Huch an opinion is repeatedly expressed in several passages of the poems of
Ossi.an, and in the doctrine of the Sennachy down to the present day,
138
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
desiring when she had done with them, that she would enclose
them in his stable. Clashneckd then proceeded to make use of
the horses, and James Gray returned home to enjoy his night's rest.
Scarce had he reached his arm-chair, and reclined his
cheek on his hand, to ruminate over the bold adventure of the
night, when Clashneckd entered, and with her ' breath in her
throat,' and venting the bitterest complaints at the unruliness of
his horses, which had broken one half of her furniture, and
caused more trouble in them than their services are worth. ' Oh!
they are stabled then ?' enquired James Gray. Clashneckd re¬
plied in the affirmative. ' Very well,' rejoined James,' they shall
be tame enough to-morrow.'
From this specimen of Clashneckd the ghost of Craig Aulnaic's
expertness, it will be seen what a valuable acquisition her service
proved to James Gray and his young family: of which, however,
they were too speedily deprived by a most unfortunate accident.
From the sequel of the story, and of which the foregoing is but
an abstract, it appears, that poor Clashneckd was but too deeply
addicted to those lushing propensities, which at that time ren¬
dered her kin so obnoxious to their human neighbours. She
was consequently in the habit of visiting her friends much oft-
ener than she was invited, and, in the course of such visits, was
never very scrupulous in making free with any eatables that fell
within the circle of her observation. One day, while engaged on
a foraging expedition of this description, she happened to enter
the mill of Delnabo, which was inhabited in those days by the
miller's family. She found the miller's wife engaged in roasting
a large gridiron of savoury fish, the agreeable effluvia proceed¬
ing from which perhaps occasioned her visit. With the usual
inquiries after the health of the miller and his family, Clashneckd
proceeded, with the greatest familiarity and good humour, to
make herself comfortable at the expense of their entertainment.
But the miller's wife enraged at the loss of her fish, and not re¬
lishing such unwelcome familiarity, punished the unfortunate
Clashneckd rather too severely for her freedom. It happened
that there was a large cauldron of boiling water suspended over
the fire, and this cauldron the beldam of miller's wife over¬
turned in Clashneckd's bosom! Scalded beyond recovery, she
fled up the wilds of Craig Aulnaic, uttering the most melancholy
lamentations,—nor has been ever heard of to the present day.
GHOSTS.
139
The forest of Glenmore, in the northern Highlands, is believed
to be haunted by a spirit, called Llham Dearg, in the array of
an ancient warrior having a bloody hand, from which he takes
his name. He insists upon all those he meets doing battle with
him.
The admixture of Christianity with the ancient religion of the
Gael, created infinite confusion of ideas, with respect to the state
of departed souls. Heaven and hell were sometimes fulminated
from the pulpit; but the nurse spoke daily of Flath-inis, and the
hills of their departed kindred, to the children at her knee, and
ancient tales of those who had been favoured with visions of the
state of the dead, prevented the Christian idea of heaven and hell
from ever being properly established. It was supposed that
only the souls of the supremely good and brave were received
into Flath-inis, and those only of the very base and wicked
were condemned to the torments of Ifrin. The hills of their
fathers were in an intermediate state, into which the common
run of mankind were received after death. They had no notion
of an immaterial being; but supposed that each spirit, in depart¬
ing from this mortal habitation, received a body subject to no
decay, and that men in a future state enjoyed such pleasures as
had been most congenial to their minds in this, without being
subject to any of the evils "that flesh is heir to."
The belief in the " hill of spirits" began, in general, to give
way soon after the reformation, and in some parts of the High¬
lands it soon disappeared altogether. Others, however, proved
more tenacious of it, and among some clans and branches of
clans, it lingered until very lately. The one, a high conical hill
in Inverness-shire, was regarded by the house of Crubin, of the
clan Macpherson, as their future inheritance; and the house of
Garva, ol the same race, believed that their spirits should inhabit
Tom-mor. On the entrance of every new inhabitant, those hills
were seen by persons at a certain distance, in a state of illumi¬
nation. Tom-mor, it is believed, was seen on fire, for the last
time, some thirty years ago; and it was confidently asserted that
some member of the house of Garva was passing from this to
a better state of existence. But no death being heard of in the
neighbourhood for some days, an opinion, already on the decline,
was on the eve of being consigned to utter attempt, when, to the
140
ANCIENT SCOTS HIGHLANDERS.
confusion of the sceptics, news arrived that a daughter of the
house of Garva had expired at Glasgow, at the very moment
Tom-mor had been seen in a blaze. But in whatsoever state
the departed spirit passed, it had, for a time, to return to per¬
form a sacred duty on earth. This was Faire Chloidh (the
grave watch). It was the duty of the spirit of the last person
interred, to stand sentry at the grave-yard gate, from sun-set
until the crowing of the cock, every night, until regularly re¬
lieved. This, sometimes, in thinly inhabited parts of the coun¬
try, happened to be a tedious and severe duty ; and the duration
of the Faire Chloidh gave the deceased's surviving friends some¬
times much uneasiness.
Some thirty years ago a young man had an interview with the
ghost of a neighbour's wife, while she watched at the gate of the
old Luggan Church-yard. She was clothed in a comfortable
mantle of snow-white flannel, adorned with red crosses, and
appeared now, though a very old woman at her decease, in the
full bloom of youth and beauty. She told him that she enjoyed
the felicity of Flath-inis, and they exchanged snuff-mulls. She
directed him to a hidden treasure she had hoarded, and desired
it might be added to the fortune of her daughter, who, she said,
was to be married on a certain day, which she named, and,
strange to say, though the girl was not then courted, she be¬
came a wife on the day foretold.
It was a vulgar opinion that the spirits of such as were burned
in foreign countries, were obliged to perform a nightly pilgri¬
mage to their native hills, in order to commune with the spirits
of their kindred. To obviate this posthumous inconvenience,
when a Highlander happened to die at a distance, his family,
though, perhaps, at the expense of their last shilling, esteemed
it a sacred duty to have his remains carried home, and deposited
by those of his ancestors. The corpse was all the way borne on
the shoulders of men, who found it requisite sometimes to lay
down their burden, by the way-side, to rest themselves. On
such occasions, a cairn or heap of stones, was raised on the spot,
and it was customary for every person that passed, as long as
any could be found in the vicinity, to augment it by a stone.
Cairns were sometimes raised on other occasions. Before the
Highlanders entered the pass of Druimuacar (1689), on their
way to join Dundee, they erected a cairn, by each man putting
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
141
in a stone. As many of them as returned, after their victory at
Raon—Ruari,—Killy—Crankie, raised a second cairn in the
same manner; but, alas! it was not above half the size of the
first. The Highlanders thought the unproductive victory dearly
purchased by the loss of so many brave men, and, above all, by
the death of Lord Dundee, or, as he was emphatically called,
Clavers,—their general, who, it is believed, was shot from be¬
hind by a fanatic, who, by feigning different principles, contrived,
with a view to his destruction, to become his servant.
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
The romantic scenery of some parts of the Highlands of Scot¬
land is universally and deservedly admired; and it is not a
little surprising that so many having travelled into these ro¬
mantic wilds, the knowledge even of the existence of some of
the greatest natural curiosities in the island, should still be con¬
fined to the few neighbouring inhabitants. " Of this being the
case," says our authority, " I had lately a striking instance, when
at Ballachelish, in the western part of Inverness-shire, in the
neighbourhood of which I saw some of the most striking scenery
any where to be met with. As I have never seen any descrip¬
tion of the beauties of that place, the following account of the
adventures of a day spent there may be useful to future tra¬
vellers.
"I had stopped all night at Ballachelish, and intended early in
the morning to proceed southward through the celebrated valley
of Glencoe. On looking out, however, I found that it rained a
good deal, and that the hills were quite covered with mist, which
would have rendered travelling alone in a country almost unin¬
habited very disagreeable. While hesitating whether to set out
or not, I walked a short way along the banks of Lochleven
(an arm of the sea), to see some of the slate quarries for which
Ballachelish is celebrated. At one of these I found a man who
spoke tolerable English, and who informed me that there were
some waterfalls at the head of Lochleven more interesting than
those of Foyers. Being in doubt whether I could depend on his
account or not, I went and asked the landlord if he knew any
thing of such falls. He confirmed the account I had received,
142
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
and mentioned, that there were several remarkable caves in that
neighbourhood, but could give me no distinct description either
of these or of the waterfalls. A gentleman who had been all
night in the inn, on being informed of these curiosities, was as
anxious as I was to see them. The landlord informed us that
we could get a boat at the head of the loch, which was nine
miles distant, and then we should not have far to walk. We
soon procured a boat, and two men to row it, but we were
obliged to wait for some time that we might go up with the tide,
as in some places the current was such as would have rendered
it impossible to go against it. At last, however, at about eleven
o'clock, we set out on our voyage of discovery, as we found
good reason to call it.
" As we advanced, the loch, which at Ballachelish was not
ab®ve a quarter of a mile in breadth, expanded into a large sheet,
the banks of which were ornamented with considerable quanti¬
ties of natural wood. On both sides were high mountains, some
of which seemed to rise almost perpendicularly from the loch,
and were green to the tops. The whole of the scenery of this
loch was grand, and the reflection that in its neighbourhood was
the residence of Ossian, added not a little to its interest. Our
boatmen occasionally sung us some Gaelic songs, to which they
beat time with their oars, and which, although any thing but
fine music, added considerably to our entertainment. About
two or three miles from Ballachelish, we passed a small island
called St. Mungo's isle. It had been formerly resorted to for a
burying-ground to protect the dead bodies from wolves, which
were once very common in this country, and it is still used as such.
One of our boatmen, whose name was Cameron, informed us,
that at the burials the pomp of funeral times is still preserved.
He told us, that upwards of 4000 Camerons, of whom he was
one, attended the funeral of a son of Mr. Cameron of Fassfern,
who was killed at Waterloo, and whose body was brought home
for interment.
" Not far from the island above mentioned, the loch suddenly
contracted into a narrow channel, confined on each side by rocks
of a slaty structure. Through this the tide was flowing with
great rapidity, and carried the boat with almost the swiftness of
an arrow. Beyond this the loch again expanded to a consider¬
able breadth, and was surrounded on all sides, except the nar-
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
MS
row channel through which we passed, by lofty and steep moun¬
tains, green to the tops, except where a craggy precipice elevates
its rugged front in awful grandeur. On the south side of the
loch we saw part of Glencoe, through which the Cona of Ossian
pours its 'thousand streams.'
"When within about two miles of the head of the loch, the
boatmen put us on shore on the north side, telling us that there
was a 'curiousplace' there, which they would show us. We
accompanied them along the banks of a considerable stream,
which runs into the loch, and soon arrived at a place where the
water, confined on each side by high rocks, forms one fallof con¬
siderable height, besides several small ones. Eut what rendered
this particularly worthy of our attention was, the water having
in five places quite near each other cut a passage for itself, leav¬
ing the rock arched above it, and thus forming five natural
bridges. With some difficulty we got at one of these, which
was almost close to the principal fall. On going upon it we had
a fine view of the water-fall from a considerable height into an
awful gulf immediately under our feet; but so narrow was the
rock, and so near the water, that it was impossible to stand long
on it without becoming quite giddy.
" Having returned to the boat, we proceeded to the head of
the loch, where we again left the boat and walked along the
banks of another stream, on which we were told there was a fall.
We had not proceeded far till we came in sight of part of this
fall, where we saw a large stream of water precipitating itself a
hundred feet or more over a perpendicular rock, into a deep
chasm, the sides of which concealed the lower part of the fall
from us. On getting to the mouth of this chasm, a grand view
all at once burst on our sight. The water having gained an im¬
mense velocity in the part we had before seen, but which was
now in its turn concealed by a projecting cliff, fell quite detached
from the rock in an extended and foaming sheet, into the gulf
below. The height of the lower part I supposed to be at least
five hundred feet. Wishing to see the whole fall at once, we
endeavoured to get still nearer to it. This was by no means an
easy task, as the stream entirely filled the bottom of the chasm,
and the sides were so steep that it was impossible to walk on
them. We were therefore obliged to walk in the stream itself,
which, though rapid, was not so deep at the sides as to stop us.
144
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
" After proceeding for some time in this way, sometimes
scrambling over piles of rock, and sometimes obliged to bold by
twigs or bushes growing on the sides, to prevent ourselves from
being carried down by the current, we at length arrived at a point
where the fall could be seen to the greatest advantage, and we
found it were worth all the trouble we had undergone to get at
it. We were now surrounded on all sides, except the narrow
chasm through which we had passed, by rocks so steep and so
high, that we could only see a small part of the sky immediately
over our heads. In the crevices of these rocks, some weeping
birches had taken root, which must have been supported entirely
by the spray arising from the fall, as there appeared to be scarce¬
ly any soil about them. But the fall was the grand object to
which our attention was directed. The water, for about a
hundred feet or upwards, seemed just to touch the rock, down
which it rushed with a velocity almost inconceivable; but below
this it was entirely detached from the rock.
" On leaving the rock, the water, which was before confined
and narrow, expanded into a broad and foamy sheet, and rolled
in awful majesty into an abyss quite concealed by the clouds of
spray which rose from it. Indeed, the water seemed to be quite
broken by the resistance of the air, into small particles, long be¬
fore it reached the bottom, presenting the appearance of clouds
of mist before the wind. In a few minutes we were completely
wet with the spray, but we were too highly delighted to regard
such a trifling inconvenience. In short, the freshness and ver¬
dure of the trees, scattered here and there among the cliffs, the
wildness and height of the rocks, the foamy whiteness of the wa¬
ter, and, above all, its terrific thundering roar, all conspired to
render this scene the most awfully sublime I ever beheld.
"We had no means of measuring the exact height of this fall;
the boatmen informed us that they had once accompanied the
factor of a neighbouring gentleman, who had measured it by tak¬
ing a station as nearly as possible on a level with the water
below. They even pointed out the very tree from which they
had let fall the line, at a height, as they averred, of one thou¬
sand and thirty-three feet from the bottom. This however, I
think must have been an exaggeration. I have no doubt that its
height is above five hundred feet, but it is impossible to judge
with any tolerable accuracy in a place where every thing is on so
CAVES.
145
grand a scale, and where there is no known height to judge from.
At any rate this fall is by far the grandest I ever saw, and vastly
surpasses the celebrated Foyers, both in the height of the fall,
and the quantity of water. This fall has one peculiarity which
is a considerable improvement to its appearance, which is, that
its water, except when swollen with rains, is pure and trans¬
parent, and its foam, instead of having a reddish tinge from
moss or any earthly substance, is of a brilliant pearly whiteness,
which is finely contrasted by the blackness of the surrounding
rocks.
"Our next visit was to some of the caves we had heard of.
Our guides, after muttering Gaelic to each other for some time,
at last confessed, that they did not know where to find the en¬
trance to any of them. We, however, had the good fortune to
meet a man who dwelt near the loch, and who undertook to con¬
duct us. He led us a good way up a hill, near the top of which
be showed us a small hole in the turf, which proved to be the
entrance to a very large cavern, and which could be quite con¬
cealed by a small quantity of heath. It was so dark, that we
could not see the whole of it, but from what we did see, we
judged that it was of great extent. We found that there was
another entrance to it in the face of a precipice, which was so
steep as to render the cave almost inaccessible to that quarter.
Our guide informed us, that at no very remote period this cave
was the haunt of a gang of robbers, but their retreat having been
at last discovered, the cave was surrounded by soldiers, and a
party entered by the opening from the top.
"We were next conducted to another cave, close by the side
of a river. The entrance to it was in the precipitous bank of
the stream, and so near it, that we were obliged to walk through
the water to get at it. The mouth of it Was very narrow, but it
appeared to be of considerable size within. Our guide informed
us, that a man who had been outlawed for some crime lived for
several years in this cave, going out at night to procure provi¬
sions, and keeping concealed during the day. At last having
turned too bold, lie ventured out in daylight, and was appre¬
hended and executed. Although our guide either would not or
could not tell us any thing particular about this unfortunate in¬
dividual, I was led to suppose, from what information we pro-
It)
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
cured, that this had been Allan Breck Stewart, who was supposed
to have murdered a Mr. Campbell, of Glenure/
"We now began to think of returning toBallachelish, but were
obliged again to wait for the tide. On this account it was very
late before we got there. In the course of our excursion at the
head of the loch, we saw large masses of marble, which might
be wrought to great advantage. Great quantities of fine slates
are quarried at Ballachelish and Glencoe, and sent to various
parts of the kingdom. Porphyry and granite abound in this part
of the country. Deer are frequently to be met with among the
hills, and eagles build upon some of the rocks. Upon the whole
we were highly gratified with what we had seen during the day,
and I would recommend it to future travellers, by no means to
pass Ballachelish without paying a visit to Lochleven head."
Ailsa Rock.—There is perhaps nothing so much worthy the
attention of tourists on the western coast of Scotland, of a pic¬
turesque and sublime nature, than the immense rock of this name.
It is situated nearly opposite to the town of Girvan, about twenty
miles from Ayr, in the middle of the Frith of Clyde, and lifts its
solitary colossal head about 940 feet above the level of the sea,
and is about three miles in circumference. It is distinctly per¬
ceptible at the distance of between sixty and seventy miles, and
when viewed at a remoteness, appears to be perfectly conical.
It is distant from Girvan about fifteen miles (which a boat would
reach in about an hour and a half with a brisk breeze), and about
the central position from the Highlands on the opposite coast.
* This murder happened soon after the rebellion in 1745, and excited much
interest about that time, on account of a man being executed for it, who was
generally believed to have been entirely innocent. The estate of Ardshiel, the
property of a Mr. Stewart, had been forfeited on account of his being engaged
in the rebellion. Mr. Colin Campbell, of Glenne, was appointed factor, and
under him Mr. James Stewart, a brother of the late possessor. For some time
Campbell behaved with moderation, but afterwards, having turned out many
tenants, he was shot when passing through the wood of Lettermore, on his
way from Fort-William, where he had been on some business. It was gene¬
rally supposed that Allan Brock Stewart was the murderer. Mr. James Stewart
was also suspected of having been an accomplice, and was apprehended and
tried at Inverary. Although it was proved that he was at home when the
murder happened, and although little was proved against him, except that
he had sent Allan some money, he was condemned and executed; but it was
generally believed that he met with great injustice.
A1LSA ROCK.
117
Very few travellers in that part of the country pass by without
embracing the opportunity of visiting this curious work of na¬
ture. The only landing-place is on the north-east, where a
beach is evidently formed from the fragments of stone fallen from
the neighbouring rocks. The cliffs are distinctly columnar, and
the whole isle appears to be composed of rock belonging to the
newest flcetz formation. It is inhabited by immense quantities
of aquatic fowls, including a number of gannets or Solan geese.
On landing at the base of this rock, one would deem the summit
to be inaccessible; however, the majority of travellers who have
proceeded so far, generally surmount all apparent obstacles and
barriers, although it is attended with considerable irksomeness,
and some danger;—the path (which is steep and rugged, and
the individual has often to climb over projecting rocks) will only
admit of a single person to proceed alone, upon which he must
direct his course with the greatest possible courage. When he
has toiled a little distance up the almost indescribable acclivity,
to look down to the beach below, it becomes in some degree ap¬
palling, and if trepidation should then seize him, or inattention
make him tumble, he would probably be dashed down the vast
rocky and calculous precipice to a profound abyss, which would be
inevitable death. Great circumspection and a courageous spirit
are the only requisites to be possessed of, in order to proceed
with safety.
About half way up the rock you come to an old ruinous anti¬
quated castle, of a quadrangular form, consisting of different
apartments, which, in all probability, at some previous period,
has been a notable place of fortification. An opinion is in some
degree prevalent among the inhabitants of the coast, that this
was the residence of the celebrated Scottish reformer, John Knox,
during the time the vindictive and sanguinary demon, persecu¬
tion, raged with destructive powers in the north, more particu¬
larly in this part of Scotland. There are, however, no records
or historical facts to justify this supposition, nor indeed to give
us any other account as to the origin of its erection.
You may ascend the tower with a little difficulty, which com¬
mands an extensive view of the western coast for above one
hundred miles. As you proceed to the apex, you meet with an
excellent fountain of fresh water, which some have endeavoured
to fathom, but without success. If you have strength and nerve
10 *
148
HIGHLAND SCENERY.
sufficient to reach the perpendicular extremity, you are in pos¬
session of a view which very few equal, and which we are led
lo suppose none can excel. You have an extensive view of the
island of Arran, and the southern majestic beauties of the High¬
lands; Londonderry and other northern parts of Ireland, and the
whole western coast of Scotland; together with the Clyde disem¬
boguing itself into the Frith, which dashes its proud and uncon-
trolable waves at the foot of this rock. :
The sea-fowls are here innumerable, and when simultane¬
ously roused, as is often the case, by the discharge of a cannon
from the steam-packets proceeding up the Frith, the air is abso¬
lutely darkened by their vast numbers, which is the object they
wish to witness by their discharge, but which, by the by, is ex¬
tremely detrimental to them in some parts of the year, for by
being suddenly disturbed from their ovaries, they generally desert
them, and that of course has a tendency to lessen their numbers:
the rock abounds with the nests of these fowls.
Great caution is likewise requisite in descending this preci¬
pitous declivity; a few years ago a gentleman courageously as¬
cended the top, he then became timid, fear gained the absolute
dominion over him, and he could not be prevailed upon to
descend alone; and, as the only alternative, he was obliged to be
blindfolded and led down with the greatest care.
This forlorn and desert rock is the property of the Earl of
Cassilis, from whence he derives his baronial title of Baron Ailsa.
It is tenanted by a person of the name of David Boddan, at a
yearly rent of about sixty pounds, for the express purpose of
destroying the sea-fowl and the few wild goats that are to be found
there. The birds are so numerous that they are in general
struck down with large sticks, or the dogs seize them in the fis¬
sures of the rocks. Occasionally they are obliged to resort to
dangerous measures to obtain the eggs and destroy the birds:—
a man descends down a precipice of about sixty fathoms, by means
of ropes tied to his body, which are held by two individuals;
one on each side of the rock,—a method which is extremely cri¬
tical, and, to behold, horrific. Some few years back a man of
the name of Ross fell a prey to his temerity, by one of the ropes
breaking. LJpon the whole, we would recommend this stupen¬
dous and curious object to the attention of all northern travel¬
lers, who delight to contemplate the sublime works of nature;
A TOUR.
149
and to the antiquarian, and man of science, as ample means to
furnish them with materials for the exercise of their speculative
powers, and to give an impetus to the profundity of their re¬
searches.
The following fragment of some romantic and sentimental
itinerants, with whom we have not the pleasure to be ac¬
quainted,* is so lively a picture, that the imagination will re¬
quire comparatively little efforts to transport one to the scene
itself.
"Abbotsford.—On the 27 th of July, 1831, we parted with' Bon¬
nie Dumfries,' as the Duchess of Bedford very truly calls it—
bade farewell to Criffel,f the fairest of mountains—and Solway,
the sweetest of all seas—and penetrated into the vale of Yarrow ,
by the way of Moffat. We bowed as we went along to Bodsbeck,
the abode of the last of those drudging goblins called Brownies,*
and the scene of one of Hogg's tales, and visited the Gray Mare's
Tail, a wild torrent of that name, w hich Loch Skene flings from
the summit of her pasture mountains over cliffs, the abode of the
eagle, into the great pass ofMoffatdale. We had never been in
that land before ; and on reaching Birkhill, where the waters of
Dumfrieshire run one way, and those of Selkirkshire another,
we were conscious of being about to enter the enchanted region
of Poetry and Bomance. The hills on either side rose lofty,
steep, and green; white, in many places, with innumerable sheep,
and differing from the brown heathery eminences of Dumfries¬
shire and Galloway in one important feature of beauty—namely,
they were one and all covered with the greenest grass from base
to summit. Between them St. Mary's Lake lies like a fine mir¬
ror, in which the hills on either side, with all their sheep and
shepherds, are reflected calm and fair. We looked for the Cha¬
pel of the Lowes; but it is past and gone, and lives only in the
'Lay of the Last Minstrel;' and we looked for Wordsworth's
swans, but they are gone too—swan and shadow. In truth, the
* From the Athenceum.
•f An excellent local barometer for many miles round. It is an old saying that
when Criffel has got her " night mutch on" it is an infallible sign of wet weather.
* See Fairies. Passim.
150
ALTRIVE LAKE.
wild swan is but the winter guest of this fine lake; and even in
winter, it comes seldom. The last of the race was of great size
and beauty, and was shot some years ago by a gentleman, who
sent it to Altrive ; the shepherd presented it to Sir Walter Scott,
who, in his turn, bestowed it upon the Edinburgh Museum, where
the majestic bird may be seen stuffed. If we did not see Words¬
worth's swans, we felt that pastoral melancholy of which the
poet speaks; and in this mood we parted with the lonely lake
and Dryhope tower, the residence of Mary Scott, the Flower of
Yarrow, and followed the course of the water of that name on
its way to the banks of the Tweed.
" Though the mark and aim of our journey was Abbotsford
and Chiefswood, we had promised ourselves pleasure by the
way; and accordingly, on moving along, we looked out for Al¬
trive Lake, the abode of the ' far-kenned and noted' Shepherd of
Etterick. Now, in this land the population is thin—there are no
mile-stones, and, what is better, no toll-bars—and what is sor¬
rowful, no houses of refreshment: and moreover, to a citizen of
' credit and renown,' the whole vale, with all its associations of
verse and prose, may seem naught and barren. But to him who
knows how to seek such things, there is milk and honey, and trout
and lamb, and as much information, old and new, as would fill
a hundred pages of a traveller's volume. Any maiden, whom
ye may chance to meet, will, with small entreaty, supply you
with milk, if you ask for water; and any shepherd will give you
information on any subject reaching from the present hour to
the days of Robert Bruce. We had arrived at that part of the
valley where the growing corn and natural grass meet, when we
inquired of a boy where Altrive was, and if Hogg was at home.
' Yon house is Altrive,' said the boy, 'and yon man fishing is
Mr. Hogg : cry, and he'll hear you.' We lifted our voice, but the
murmur of the stream drowned it; and as we advanced upon him,
'bout ship went the Shepherd, and, with a heavy creel of trouts,
began to wend his way home : at length he Heard us, and mar¬
velling, no doubt, what manner of people we were, came slowly
to meet us. Now, we were known to the poet of old—he had
heard, too, that we were in these parts; so he began to quicken
his pace, nnd before we met, his whole face was radiant with
joy—dilated with gladness. ' God, man! but I'm glad to see
ETTERICK AND YARROW.
151
you!' was the lirst exclamation, followed by a hearty, vigorous
shake of both hands, after the manner of the Great Minstrel of
Abbotsford. 'You must come and dine with me, you and all
your following; na, nae murmuring, man—I am omnipotent here,
and can command you. I have two friends, also, who will be
glad to see you; besides, you must taste our Yarrow cheer—
our mutton, our trout, and our whiskey.' *
" The house of the poet is a lonely one, and not very large;
* The glens and the mountains of Etterick and Yarrow combine almost all
the soft and wild sublimity that Highland scenery exhibits. In the lower dis¬
trict of Yarrow, that lovely stream winds among hills of no great height, gently
swelling, and green to the summits; in some places finely wooded, but generally
naked, and well suited to the pasture of flocks. This is their common charac¬
ter, but some miles from the mouth of the valley, dark heathy mountains are
seen towering to a considerable height above the surrounding hills, and give
a variety to the scene. Towards the head, the glen widens, and embosoms St.
Mary's Loch, and the Loch of the Lowes; and, above these sweet lakes, termi¬
nates in a wild mountain-pass that divides it from Moffatdale. In the loftiest
and most rugged regions of this pass, the grey-mare's tail, a waterfall 300 feet
in perpendicular height, dashes and falls over stupendous rocks. This celebrated
fall is formed by a stream that flows from dark Skene, a dark and mountain
lake, about a mile above it, surrounded by inaccessible heights 011 all sides save
one, and that is strewed by a thousand black heathery hillocks of the most gro-
lesque and irregular forms. This place is so solitary that the eagle has built
her nest in an islet of the lake for ages, and is overhung by the highest moun¬
tains in the south of Scotland. The character of Etterick is similar to that of
Yarrow, except perhaps that its tints are softer and more mellow, and it is des¬
titute of lakes. These valleys, so celebrated in Border legend and song, are skirted
by hills, extending many miles on both sides, and, as there is no great road through
them, the people have long lived shut out from the rest of mankind, in a state
of pastoral simplicity and virtuous seclusion, alike remote from the vices of boorish
rusticity and fawning servility. Among the wild mountains at the head of Ette¬
rick and Yarrow, the sturdy champions of the covenant found an asylum when
they were chased like wild beasts, by a relentless persecution, from every other
part of the country. Their preachers held their conventicles in the most seques¬
tered glens, and made many converts, from whom a number of the present race
are descended; but while they cherish the memory of these glorious men, and
as well they may, retain all the noble-mindedness that arises from the conscious¬
ness of an illustrious ancestry, their moral features have lost much of the stern¬
ness of their fathers, and are softened down into the gentler virtues of more
peaceful times; yet if we were asked what people of Britain had suffered least
from the evil consequences of excessive refinement, we should answer without
hesitation, the inhabitants of Etterick and Yarrow. In these interesting vallies.
there is hardly a cottage that has not its legend, or a cleugh that is not famed
for some act of romantic chivalry, or tenanted by some supernatural being, or
sanctified by the blood of some martyr. In such a country, full of chastened
beauty, and dark sublimity and visionary agency, and glorious recollections, it
was the good fortune of Hogg to be born.
152
THE ETTERICK SHEPHERD.
nor is the land very fertile around ; but to make amends for all
this, the fine water of Yarrow is some bow-shot distance—a
burn well stored with trout runs past the very door—and, better
than all, the wife of the poet, a prudent and clever lady, keeps
the whole in good order, and presides over the in-door econo
my of her dwelling-place in a way worthy of more worldly pros¬
perity. We had a pleasant chat about things bygone—how we
met of old on Queensberry Hill, with the 'Lay of the last Min¬
strel' and a bottle of Ferintosh for our companions—how we
lingered at a Thornhill fair till the morning stars shone—and
how we discoursed in old Dumfries on the merits of all poets
living and dead. During all this we made use of our eyes, and
looked at the Shepherd's library—a small, but valuable collection;
at his pictures on the wall, among which we remarked a clever
portrait of one of his children—a likeness of a fine collie—and
two of Martin's exquisite engravings, one of them the Fall of Ni¬
neveh. The Scottish games of Inverleithing were talked of,
where wrestling, pitching the bar, throwing the sledge hammer,
and archery, are practised in the presence of the noblemen and
gentlemen of the district, and in which the Shepherd himself
takes a leading part. He invited us anxiously to these sports,
held on the 2d of August—showed us certain silver buttons, with
suitable devices, sent to him by a Scottish nobleman, to be worn
on that day—and, finally, producing a good yew bow six feet
long, dared us to attempt to string it. Now, in a vain moment,
we had said something of our skill with this old weapon, and the
Poet, who sorely misdoubted us, had a roguish twinkle in his
eye, as we handled the bow in such sort as bow was never
handled before; we nevertheless lodged the string, and our en¬
tertainer spared us farther proof of our skill. The dinner was
excellent—broth of the best, trout, lamb and haggis ; and when
their reliques were removed, the Shepherd set on the table a
massive punch-bowl of solid silver, the gift of Mr. Franks; and
with no little knowledge he mixed the whisky and the sugar and
water. As this pleasing tipple went round, we said, ' What is
your pen about now, Mr. Hogg?'—' Pen!' said he, 'it might as
well be in the goose's wing; I cannot get writing any for the
visits of my friends; I'm never a day without some.'—We
looked at the two guests to whom he had formerly alluded ;
MELROSE.
153
they looked at us : and we all perhaps felt that a man might be
ruined by the visits of thoughtless friends.
' Crowdie ance, crowdie twice,
Crowdie three times in a day;
And if ye crowdie ony mair,
Ye'ell crowdie a' my meal away.'
We tore ourselves reluctantly away from Altrive and its hos¬
pitable master and mistress, and pursued our way along the
Yarrow.
"The mere names of places renowned in song and story would
fill a column; we saw ' the dowie dens of Yarrow,' and the two
gray stones which mark the scene of the tragedy. One ot these
rude but effectual monuments was about to be destroyed by the
hands of a divine, when it was saved by the poetic Sheriff. We
passed ' Sweet Bowhill,' and those wooded acclivities where
'Newark's ruined tower
Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower.'
The memory of our ancestor rose upon us, as we passed Philip-
haugh, where he fought and bled; and Janet and her elfin lover
were present as we looked on Carterhaugh; we hastened through
Selkirk, singing, in a subdued tone of voice,' Sutors a'—sutors
a',' and hurried on towards Abbotsford, with the hope of reach¬
ing, before bed-time, the abode of the greatest of all Scotland's
spirits. But the ascending-into-heaven and descending-into-
hell nature of the road interposed—the candles, when we reached
the gates, were burning bed ward, for it was now ten at night;
so we drove on to Melrose, and with the light of the moon sur¬
veyed the splendid ruins. Well has the poet sung—
' He that would view Melrose aright,
Must visit it by the pale moon-light—
and with equal beauty and accuracy has he called it the ' ruin
gray;' and observed that the flowers of the garden and the herbs
of the field around are carved on the fabric. In the burial ground
we saw a small monument in memory of Thomas Purdie, wood-
forester at Abbotsford, erected by his affectionate master. We
forgot the 'dark Abbey' as we looked at this honorable memo-
15-1
ABBOTSFORD.
morial. On the morrow we made our way to Abbotsford, and
were received with what Burns calls, in his emphatic language,
' a soul-warm welcome.' We had not seen Sir Walter lor years,
and the newspapers had hinted of ill-health : we found him hale
and ruddy in the outward man, and in conversation all that we
had ever known him. Indeed, out of the dozen times at least
that we have had the honour of being in his company, we never
found him so shrewd, so anecdotish, and so agreeably compa¬
nionable. His foot, as he said of Rob-Roy, was on his native
heath, and we were his guests; yet to be pleasant cost him no
effort, and his wit ran as readily as the waters of the Tweed.
His hair is as white as the ' Dinlay snow and we could not help
involuntarily blessing him as he passed before us into his halls
and libraries, to show us line collections of books, and armour,
and weapons.
"Of the former it is enough to say, that of the works of Scots¬
men, he has perhaps the finest collection extant; volumes anent
the Cameronians, and dark books on witchcraft and gramery
abound. His armour and weapons merit a longer description
—they are numerous and of great value. The fowling-piece of
Rob-Roy, and the pistol of Claverhouse, both of rich workman¬
ship, hang together; the sword of the great Montrose is locked
carefully in a sort of relique-chest. There are the arms, too,
of the warlike name of Scott : we neglected to enquire for the
lance of the poet's ancestor, Swinton, of Swinton, with which he
slew the Duke of Clarence in the battle of Beague : the wound
inflicted by the Scottish lance is imitated on the cheek of the ala¬
baster figure on the tomb in Canterbury cathedral. We looked
at those torture-irons called ' thumbikins' in the history of the
persecutions in Scotland; but the relique which struck us most
was a plain piece of well tempered steel, being neither more nor
less than the head of an English arrow found on the field of Ban-
nockburn, several feet below the surface. It was small, compact,
and lit for the working day : the barbs on the sides lie closer
than what is common, and the thickness of the shaft must have
been little more than that of a tobacco pipe. We had often heard
of English arrows, but we never saw one before; and we believe
that of Abbotsford is almost the only one : we involuntarily re¬
peated the lines —
THE BORDERS.
155
' And there were many vainly thought,
But for a vaunt such weapons wrought,
But little deemed their force to feel
Through bars of brass and links of steel,
When rattling down on Flodden vale,
The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail.'
" As we were walking through the house, an open carriage
came to the door, and the Baronet said, 'if we wished to take a
ride, he would be glad to accompany us, and show us what was
most worth seeing in the land.' It is needless to say with what
what joy we stepped into the carriage."
THE BORDERS.
" All the blue bonnets are over the border."
Burns.
Of the different regions into which Scotland is divided, it may
be said, that, as the Highlands possess the greatest attraction for
the lover of nature in her sublimest and most interesting forms,
so the Border has charms to fascinate all those who delight in
romantic enterprize, and poetic fancy. This boundary between
two warlike and long hostile kingdoms, became naturally the
great theatre on which the achievements of the feudal ages
were performed. The habitual hostility, too, with which the
inhabitants of the opposite side of the march viewed each
other, gave rise to constant scenes of minor exploits, which,
though they could not find a place in history, kept alive the
habits of activity, enterprize, and daring valour, which held
men's minds in a state of perpetual excitement. The same
causes which rendered the Borders the theatre of war, ren¬
dered it also a land of song; for true and native poetry is the
result, not of monastic and studious seclusion, but of those event¬
ful circumstances which fire the imagination, and melt the
heart. Another effect of this constant state of warfare upon
the Borders, was the construction of " towers of defence,"
which, if they could not aspire to the rank of fortresses, might
at least afford protection against sudden inroad; and, il they
could not repel an invader, might retard his progress. These
156
THE BORDERS.
could not, indeed, rival the pomp and magnificence of those
mansions which, in the interior of Scotland, and the less
troubled districts of England, were erected by the great nobles,
for the display of baronial grandeur. A square tower, built on
a height, with walls of immense thickness, and a few narrow
loop-holes for the admission of light, and the discharge of mis¬
sile weapons, formed usually the whole array of a Border cas¬
tle. Some, however, belonging to the Border nobility, was
built on a scale of greater magnificence; they are placed, gene¬
rally, in a picturesque situation, and all of them recall events of
history and tradition which must be interesting to a large por¬
tion of the present generation. The striking aspect, indeed,
presented by a country which, after having long been the theatre
of national hostility, has remained some time in a state of peace,
affords a contrast as inviting as it is romantic and luxuriant.
Numerous castles left to moulder in massive ruins; fields where
the memory of ancient battles still lives among the descendants
of those by whom they were fought or witnessed; the very line
of-demarcation which, separating the two countries, though no
longer hostile, induces the inhabitants of each to cherish their
separate traditions, unite to render these regions interesting to
the topographical historian or antiquary.
The most remarkable Border antiquities of the Britons are the
extensive entrenchments, known by the name of the Catrail, and
the remains of an irregular hill fort, situated on the grounds of
Mr. Pringle, of Fairnlee.* The Roman antiquities here met with,
besides their great roads, and the remains of the wall of Anto-
nius, consist chiefly of arms and sepulchral monuments. At
length the Saxons, partly as conquerors, and partly as refugees,
came and filled the whole low country of Scotland, and finally
communicated their language to that part of the kingdom. The
system of clanship, which was originally Celtic, and unknown
to the Saxons, was borrowed by the latter, and adopted on the
Borders to nearly as great an extent as in the Highlands. Of
this remarkable form of political association, a very striking pic-
* For a very interesting account of the most remarkable incidents in Border
history and tradition; see " The Border Antiquities of England and Scotland,
comprising specimens of architecture and sculpture, and other vestiges of former
ages, by Walter Scott, Esq." To which the reader is referred for many cu¬
rious anecdotes, and many views of manners, and antiquities.
THE BORDERS.
157
ture is furnished by the distinguished author of " the Border
Antiquities of England and Scotland." The most flourishing
period of Border history was the reign of David I., when the splen¬
did monasteries of Kelso, Jedburgh, Melrose, and Dryburgh were
founded. The castle, also, of Roxburgh and Jedburgh, then
standing, appear to have surpassed any military stations erected
in later times. After the usurpation of Edward I., and the succes¬
sion of desolating invasions with which Scotland was afflicted, the
Scots ceased attempting to defend regularly their frontiers. The
consequences are thus described by the author here alluded to :
" It followed from this devastating system of defensive war¬
fare, that the Scottish were so far from desiring to cover their
Borders by building strong places or fortresses, that they pulled
down and destroyed those they had formerly erected. Bu¬
chanan has elegantly termed this systematic destruction of their
castles into a compliment to the valour of his countrymen:
' Nec fossis et muris patriam, sed Marte, tueri.'
But, without disparaging Scottish valour, the motive of leav¬
ing their frontier thus, seems to have been a consciousness that
they were greatly surpassed by the English, both in the attack
and the defence of their strong-holds; that if they threw their
best warriors into frontier garrisons, they might be there be¬
sieged, and reduced either by force or famine ; and that the for¬
tresses of which the enemy should thus obtain possession, might
afford them the means of maintaining a footing in the country.
When, therefore, the Scottish patriots recovered possession of
the castles which had fallen into the power of the English, they
usually dismantled them. The good Lord James of Douglas sur¬
prised his own castle of Douglas three times, it having been as
frequently garrisoned by the English, and upon each occasion
he laid waste and demolished it. The military system of Wal¬
lace was on the same principle. And, in fine, with a very few
exceptions, the strong and extensive fortresses, which had arisen
on the Scottish Borders in better times, were levelled with the
ground during the wars of the thirteenth century. The ruins of
the castles of Roxburgh, and Jedburgh, and of several others
which were thus destroyed, bear as wonderful disproportion in
extent to any which were erected in subsequent times. Nay, the
158
TIIE BORDERS.
castle of Jedburgh was so strongly and solidly constructed, and
the Scottish so unskilful in the art of destruction, even where
there was no military opposition, that it was thought it could
not be destroyed without such time and labour, as would render
it necessary to impose a tax of two pennies on every hearth in
Scotland, to defray the expense. But Robert, Duke of Albany,
then Regent, to show the unpopularity of this impost, defrayed
the charge of the demolition out of the crown revenue.
" This continued to be the Scottish defensive system for many
ages ; and, of course, while it exposed invaders to hardships, loss,
and want of subsistence, it reduced the frontiers of their own
country, for the time, to a waste desert. Beacons were lighted
in such a manner, as to signify either the threatened approach,
or actual arrival of the English army. These were maintained
at Hume Castle, at the tower of Edgerhope, or Edgerstone, near
the source of the Jed, upon the ridge of the Soltra hills, at
Dunbar, Dunpender (or Trapraine), Law, North-Berwick Law,
and other eminences; and their light was a signal for the Scot¬
tish forces to assemble at Edinburgh and Haddington, abandon¬
ing to waste and pillage all the southern counties. Till the very
last occasion of hostility between England and Scotland, this mode
of defensive war was resorted to in the latter kingdom. Crom¬
well found the Borders in that desolate situation in his campaign
of 1G50 ; and had it not been for the misguided zeal of the Pres¬
byterian Ministers, who urged David Leslie to give battle at
Dunbar, he must have made a disastrous and disgraceful re¬
treat.
" From this system it followed, that most of the Scottish places
of strength, even when the abode of great nobles or powerful
chiefs, were constructed upon a limited and mean scale. Built
usually in some situation of natural strength, and having very
thick walls, strongly cemented, they could easily repel the attack
of any desultory incursion ; but they were neither victualled nor
capable of receiving garrisons sufficient to defend them, except¬
ing against a sudden assault. The village, which almost always
adjoined to the castle, contained the abodes of the retainers, who,
upon the summons of the chieftain, took arms either for the de¬
fence of the fortresses, or for giving battle in the field. Of
these, the greater part were called " kindly tenants,1' or " ren-
iallers," deriving the former name from the close and intimate
TIIE ENGLISH BORDER.
159
nature of their connexion with the Lord of the soil, from whom
they held their little possessions by favour, rather than bargain ;
and the latter from the mode in which their right of possession
was constituted, by entering their names in their lord's rental
book. Besides this ready militia, the more powerful chiefs main¬
tained in their castle, and as immediate attendants upon their
persons, the more active young gentlemen of their clan, selected
from the younger brethren and gentlemen of estate, whose de¬
scent from the original stock, and immediate dependence upon
the chief, rendered them equally zealous and determined ad¬
herents. These were recompensed by grants of land, in pro¬
perty or lease, which they stocked with cattle or sheep, as their
chief did those which he retained in his own hands.
" But the castles which held these garrisons, whether con¬
stant or occasional, were not of strength, or at least of extent,
at all commensurate with the military power of the chiefs who
inhabited them. The ruins of Cessford, or of Branxholm, be¬
fore the latter was modernized, might be considered as on the
largest scale of Scottish Border fortresses, and neither could
brook comparison with the baronial castles of English families
of far less power and influence."
The English Border.—The edifices on the opposite side of the
Border present a very different scene, including, even in these
remote provinces, the superior wealth and civilization of the
English nation, with that attention to defend, which was the
natural consequence of their having something of value to defend.
The central marches, indeed, and the extreme verge of the
frontier in every direction, excepting upon the east, were inha¬
bited by wild clans, as lawless as their northern neighbours,
resembling them in their manners and customs, inhabiting similar
strong-holds, and subsisting, like them, by rapine. The towers
ofThirlwall, upon the river Tippal, of Fenvvick, Widdrington,
and others, exhibit the same rude strength and scanty limits
with those of the Scottish Border chieftains. But these were
not as in Scotland, the abode of the great nobles, but rather of
leaders of inferior rank. W herever the mountains receded,
arose chains of castles of magnificent structure, great extent, and
fortified with all the art of the age, belonging to those powerful
barons whose names hold so high a rank in English history.
100
MOSS-TROOPERS.
The great house of Clifford of Cumberland alone possessed,
exclusive of inferior strong-holds, the great and extensive castles
of Appleby, Brough, Brougham, Pendragon, and Skipton,eachof
which formed a lordly residence, as may yet be seen from their
majestic ruins. The possessions of the great house of Percy were
fortified with equal strength. Warkworth, Alnwick, Bam-
borough, and Cockermouth, all castles of great baronial splen¬
dour and strength, besides others in the interior of the country,
show their wealth and power. Raby Castle, still inhabited, attests
the magnificence of the great Nevilles, Earls of Westmoreland;
and the lowering strength of Naworth or Brougham Castles are
compared with the magnificence of Warwick and Kenilworth;
their savage strength, their triple rows of dungeons, the few and
small windows which open to the outside, the length and com¬
plication of secret and subterraneous passages, show that they
are rather to be held limitary fortresses for curbing the doubtful
allegiance of the Borders, and the incursions of the Scottish,
than the abodes of feudal hospitality and baronial splendour.
Moss-troopeus.—Returning to the other side of the Solway,
the Moss-troopers present us with an admirable picture of the
local mode of warfare carried on by the Borderers. The fol¬
lowing sketch of these early and indefatigable, yet predatory
warriors will be found very interesting.
Contrary to the custom of the rest of Scotland, the Moss¬
troopers almost always acted as light horsemen, and made use
of small active horses accustomed to traverse morasses, in
which other cavalry would have stood a chance of being swal¬
lowed up. " Their hardy mode of life made them indifferent to
danger, and careless about the ordinary accommodations of life.
The uncertainty of reaping the fruits of their labour, deterred
them from all the labours of cultivation; their mountains and
glens afforded pasturage for the cattle and horses, and when
these were driven off by the enemy, they supplied the loss by
reciprocal depredation. Living under chiefs by whom this pre¬
datory warfare was countenanced, and sometimes headed, they
appear to have had little knowledge of the light in which their
actions were regarded by the legislature, and the various sta¬
tutes and regulations made against their incursions remained,
in most cases, a dead letter. It did indeed, frequently happen,
MOSS-TROOPERS.
101
that the kings or governors of Scotland, when the disorders
upon the Border reached to a certain height, marched against
these districts with an overpowering force, seized on the per¬
sons of the chiefs, and sent them to distant prisons in the centre
of the kingdom, and executed, without mercy, the inferior cap¬
tains and leaders. Thus in the years 1529, a memorable era
for this soil of expeditious justice, James V., having first com¬
mitted to ward the Earl of Both well, the Lords Home and
Maxwell, the Lairds of Buccleigh, Fairnihirst, Johnstone, Pol-
warth, Dolphinton, and other chiefs of clans, marched through
the Borders with about 8000 men, and seizing upon the chief
leaders of the Moss-troopers, who seem not to have been aware
that they had any reason to expect harm at their sovereign's
hands, executed them without mercy.
Besides the celebrated Johnnie Armstrong, of Gilnockie, to
whom a considerable part of the English frontier paid black
mail,* the names of Piers, Cockburn, of Henderland, Adam
Scott, of Tushielaw, called the king of the Border, and other
marauders of note, are recorded as having suffered on this oc¬
casion. And although this and other examples of severity had
the effect for the time, as the Scottish phrase is, of " dantoning
the thieves of the Borders, and making the rush-bush keep the
cow," yet this course not only deprived the kingdom of the
assistance of many brave men, who were usually the first to
endure or repel the brunt of invasion, but it also diminished the
affections of those who remained ; and a curious and middle
state of relation appears to have taken place between the
Borders on each side, who, as they were never at absolute
peace with each other during the cessation of national hosti¬
lities, seem, in like manner, to have shunned engaging in vio¬
lent and sanguinary conflicts, even during the time of war.
The English Borderers, who were in the same manner held
aliens to the civilized part of the country, inasmuch that, by the
regulation of the corporation of Newcastle, no burgess could
take to his apprentice a youth from the dales of Beed of Tyne,
made common cause with those of Scotland, and the allegiance of
both to their common country was much loosened; the Dalesmen
on either side seem to have considered themselves in many
* A sort of tax paid to freebooters, to obtain exemption from their inroads..
11
162
MOSS-TROOPERS.
respects as a separate people, having interests of their own,
distinct from, and often hostile to, that of the country to which
they were nominal subjects. This gave rise to some singular
features in their history.
These men, who might thus be said to bear but dubious alle¬
giance to their country, were, of all others, the most true of
faith to whatever they had pledged their individual word. If it
happened that any of them broke his troth, he who sustained
the wrong, displayed, at the first public meeting upon the
Borders, a glove upon the point of a lance, and proclaimed him
a perjured and man-sworn traitor. This was accounted an
insult to the whole clan to which the culprit belonged. If his
crime was manifest, there were instances of his being put to
death by his kinsmen; but if the accusation was unfounded, tlie
stain upon the honour of the clan was accounted equal to the
slaughter of one of its members, and, like that, could only be
expiated by deadly feud. Under the terrors of this penalty, the
degree of trust that might be reposed in the most desperate of
the Border outlaws, is described by Piobert Constable, in his ac¬
count of an interview with the banished Earl of Westmoreland
and his unfortunate followers. They desired to get back into
England, but were unwilling to trust their fortune without some
guides. " I promised," said Constable, " to get them two guides
that would not care to stcale, and yet they would not bewray
any man that trusts in them for all the gold in Scotland and
France. They are my guides and outlaws ; if they would
betray me, they might get their pardons, and cause me to be
hanged, but I have tried them ere this." This strict observance
of pledged faith tended much to soften the rigours of war; for
when a Borderer made a prisoner, he esteemed it wholly unne¬
cessary to lead him into actual captivity or confinement. He
simply accepted his word to be a true prisoner, and named a
time and place where he expected him to come to treat about
his ransom. If they w ere able to agree, a term w as usually as¬
signed for the payment and security given; if not, the prisoner
surrendered himself to the discretion of his captor. But where
the interest of both parties pointed so strongly towards the ne¬
cessity of mutual accommodation, it rarely happened that they
did not agree upon terms. Thus even in the encounters of these
rude warriors on either side, the nations maintained the cha-
PRESENT STATE OF THE BORDERS.
1G3
racier of honour, courage, and generosity assigned to them by
Froissart. " Englishmen on the one party, and Scotsmen on the
other party, are good men of war; for when they meet, there is
a hard fight without sparing; there is no hoo (i. e. there is no
cessation for parley) between them, as long as spears, swords,
axes or daggers will endure; but they lay on each other, and
when they be well beaten, and that the one party hath obtained
the victory, they then glorify so in their deeds of arms, and are
so joyful, that such as be taken they shall be ransomed ere they
go out of the field : so that shortly each of them is so content
with the other, that at their departing courteously, they will say
' God thank you.' But in fighting one with another, there is no
play nor sparing."
Of the other qualities and habits of the Borderers we are
much left to form our own conjectures. That they were a
people of some accomplishments, fond of the legends of their
own exploits, and of their own rude poetry and music, is proved
by the remains still preserved of both. They were skilful anti¬
quaries, according to Boger North, in whatever concerned their
own bounds. Lesley gives them the praise of great and artful
eloquence when reduced to plead for their lives : also, that they
were temperate in food and liquors, and rarely tasted those of
an intoxicating quality. Their females caught the warlike spirit
of the country, and appear often to have mingled in battle. Fair
maiden Liliard, whose grave is still pointed out upon the field
of battle at Anoram-Moor, called from her name, Lilliard's
Edge, seems to have been a heroine of this description. And
Holingshed records that at the conflict fought near Naworth,
in 1570, between Leonard Dacres and Lord Hunsden, the
former had in his company many desperate women, who there
gave the adventure of their lives, and "fought right stoutly."
This is a change in the habits of the other sex which can only
be produced by early and daily familiarity with scenes of hazard,
blood and death. The Borderers, however, merited the devoted
attachment of their wives, if, as we learn, one principal use of
the wealth they obtained by plunder was to bestow it in orna¬
menting the persons of their partners.
Present State of the Borders.—Hospitality, kindness, and
most minute attention to the comfort and ease of their guests, mark
u
104. PRESENT STATE OF THE BORDERS.
the character of facets gentlemen of the present day, whilst the
peasantry are equally remarkable for the same good qualities in
a ruder way, and the more valuable ones of correct morality, sin¬
cere piety, and an exemplary decency in language and manners.
Struggling with a poverty that almost amounts to a privation of
food, and eondemaed to a labour before which the southern
Britons would sink down in listless despondence, the Scotch
peasant displays a degree of patience and industry, accompanied
at the same time with content, that place him on the scale of
moral excellence far above those who ridicule or despise him.
—Serious without moroseness, quick without asperity, and sa¬
gacious without conceit; friendly, kind and just; this may be
considered as the moral portrait of such part of the Scotch as
are not sophisticated or spoiled by a communication with their
southern neighbours, and particularly where the benefits of re¬
ligious instruction and education have paved the way to more
striking exemplifications of moral excellence. Of this descrip¬
tion may we pronounce the inhabitants of the Borders to be,
who perhaps are more national in their manners, practices, and
ideas, than the northern counties of the kingdom; from the cir¬
cumstances of the effects being still felt in these parts, which
have long faded away in the more distant divisions of the country.
The natural consequence of those perpetual feuds which sub¬
sisted between the Borderers of both kingdoms was a reciprocal
rooted hatred, piously handed down from father to son, and
carefully transmitted through successive generations by legen¬
dary tales and popular ballads, whose constant theme and burden
were the injuries which each party had received from the other,
and the vengeance which these injuries deserved.
Amongst the other Scots, the national disgust of the English,
though excited before their conquest by frequent wars, had ceased
(at least in a degree) as soon as those wars had terminated.
But with the Borderers the case had been different; their rela¬
tive situation with the English prevented the wound from being
closed ; the cause was always operating ; new occasions of ran¬
cour were ever occurring in the violence of each party; and
their mutual dislike, instead of being softened by time, was, on
the contrary, every day increased and confirmed. Hence it
happens that a great degree of coolness and dislike still subsists
between the inhabitants of the respective neighbouring counties,
THE SCOTCH PEASANTRY.
165
which not only operate as a bar to free conversation between
them, but at the same time render the Scotch infinitely more
tenacious of those manners, customs, and opinions, which distin¬
guish them from their ancient enemies.
The Peasantry.—About sixty or seventy years ago, a great
part of the cottages of the Scotch day-labourers were built with
walls of turf, stone buttresses, or wooden posts, built into the
wall, supporting the heavy timbers of the roof; few, compara¬
tively, of this description exist at present, the greater part being
built with stone and lime.*
The general description of the cottage of a labourer or trades¬
man, who keeps a cow, is a house of eighteen or twenty feet by
fifteen or sixteen within walls ; the door is in front, close by one
of the gables; two close beds form the cross partition, dividing
the space occupied by the family from a space of four feet from
the gable at which you enter, where stands the cow behind one
of the beds, with her tail to the door of the house. There is
one window in front, near the fire gable, opposite to which, at
the opposite wall, stands the ambry, in which the cow's milk and
other family daily provisions are locked up; and above it, lying
against the slant of the roof, is the slietf or frame, containing
shelves, with cross-bars in front, to prevent the utensils set upon
its shelves from tumbling off from its over-hanging position; the
show of the house depending much upon the quality and arrange¬
ment of the crockery and other utensils placed thus, in open view
upon the shelf. A chest, containing the family wardrobe, stands
in front of one of the close beds serving also for seats. The
close beds are also furnished with a shelf at head and foot, upon
which part of the family apparel is deposited, to preserve it from
the dust. A wooden armed-chair for the husband or " gudeman,"
when he arrives fatigued from his labour, and a few stools, among
which is one called the buffet-stool, for the rest of the family,
and a plunge churn, completes the inventory of the household
furniture; to which only a small barrel for salted fish and another
for meal may be added, if the family can afford to lay in stores
and are not from hand to mouth.
The cooking utensils consist of a small cast iron pot, in which.
* See Findlater's General Vie\r oi'llie Agriculture of Pocbleshire.
1G6
THE SCOTCH PEASANTRY.
is daily prepared the oatmeal porridge, the universal breakfast,
eaten with milk, or with home-brewed weak ale from treacle,
when the milk season is over, in which also the potatoes are
boiled, as the universal supper, while they last, eaten either
with milk, or merely with salt; in which is also prepared for
dinner, through winter, potatoes dressed with mutton suet for
the purpose, or broth, to be eaten with bread made universally
with shelled barley, and kale from the kale-yard, and, according
to circumstances, either with or without a bit of salted mutton, to
give them a relish. The butter from the cow being all sold fresh,
from the high price it bears in such vicinity to Edinburgh, is
the chief dependence for money to pay for the cow's summer
grass, and to purchase the winter's fodder: the skimmed milk
only being used by the family, in the manner already stated, or,
when most plenty in summer, serving for dinner broth.
The next indispensable cooking utensil, universally in use in
every cottage and in every family in the country, is the girdle,
which is a round thin plate, either of malleable or cast iron, from
a foot to two feet and a half in diameter, according to the size of
the family. It is suspended over the fire by a jointed iron arch
with three legs called the clips, the end of the legs of which are
hooked to hold fast the girdle. The clips is again hooked upon
the end of a chain, called the crook, which is attached to an iron
rod, or wooden beam, called the rantle-tree, which is fixed
across the chimney-stalk, at some distance above the fire. Upon
this girdle is baked the ordinary bread of the cottager, and
of the farmers' servants, consisting of bannocks, made of the
meal of peas or of barley, but more generally of the two meals
together, and more rarely of oats. The meal is made into
dough with water without leaven, and the dough is formed into
circular cakes of from seven to nine inches in diameter, and 1/2 to
% of an inch in thickness. It is then toasted, first on one side
and then on the other, upon the girdle; and two or three days'
provision are made at once. The bread has but a doughy
taste.
The oat cake, known by the sole appellation of cake, is the
gala bread of the cottager. The meal is made into dough with
water, without leaven, as little water being used as is merely
sufficient to make the meal stick together; the dough is then
kneaded, or rolled out as thin as possible, into a round cake, or
GYPSIES.
16?
diameter, corresponding to the size of the girdle; the cake is
then cut into four quadrants, and toasted on the girdle, alternate¬
ly on both sides, care being taken, both with cakes and bannocks,
to prevent the girdle from being so hot as to burn the surface.
When the cake is so hardened as to stand on edge, it is placed
upon an iron heater, linked upon a bar of the grate, where it
toasts leisurely till it be perfectly dry, though no way burnt. If
it has lain some days unused, it is toasted anew before it is eaten:
it thus constitutes a hearty species of bread, of a tonic quality, to
judge by the taste; and which, by many Scotsmen in the higher
ranks, is preferred to wheaten bread.
There is just one other utensil indispensable to the cottager,
which is a very small barrel or can of stone to hold his salt,
which he keeps in a hole in the walls, close by his tire, to pre¬
vent its running, from the moisture in the air. lie must also
have a wooden pail to carry water; in which also his cow is
milked, if he has one; on which supposition, too, he must have
three cans of stone ware, or vessels of cooper's work, in which
the milk is set in the ambry, to stand for casting up the cream.
GYPSIES.
As the author of the admirable romance of Guy Mannering
has rendered every thing respecting Scottish Gypsies of extreme
interest, the following details, relative to the elopement of the
Countess Cassilis with Johnnie Faa, or Faw, the gypsey chief,
may not prove uninteresting to our readers.
John, sixth Earl of Cassilis, commonly termed " the grave
and solemn Earl," married his first wife, Lady Jane Hamilton,
daughter of Thomas, first Earl of Haddington. It is said that
this match took place contrary to the inclinations of the young
lady, whose affections had been previously engaged by a certain
Sir John Faa, of Dunbar, who was neither grave nor solemn, and
moreover much handsomer than his successful rival. While
Lord Cassilis, who, by the way, was a very zealous puritan,
was absent on some mission to England, Sir John with his
followers repaired to Cassilis, where the young lady then re¬
sided, and persuaded her to elope with him to England. As ill
luck would have it, the Earl returned home before the lovers
16S
GYPSIES.
could cross the Border ; pursued and overtook them, and in the
conflict all the masquerade gypsies were slain save one, and the
weeping Countess brought back to her husband's mansion, where
she remained till a dungeon was prepared for her near the village
of Maybole, wherein she languished for the remainder of her life
in humble sorrow and devotion.
This is one version of the story, still very current in the
country where the elopement took place, but it is not supported
by the tenor of the ballad, which was composed by the only
surviving ravisher, and is contradicted by a numerous jury of
matrons, " spinters and knitters in the sun," who pronounce the
fair Countess guilty of having eloped with a genuine gypsey,
though compelled in some degree to that low-lived indiscretion
by certain wicked charms and philtres, ol which Faa and his
party are said to have possessed the secret. The unfortunate lady
was also assailed by the powers of glamour, which the stoutest
chastity found quite unable to resist, if unaided by a morsel of
the mountain ash-tree, an amber necklace, a stone forced by
stripes from the head of a live toad, or the prudent recollection
of keeping both thumbs close compressed in the hand, during
the presence of the malevolent charmer.
Glamour, according to Scottish interpretation, is that super¬
natural power of imposing on the eye-sight, by which the ap¬
pearance of an object shall be totally different from the reality.
Sir Walter Scott, describing the wonderful volume of Michael of
Balwearie, says:
" It had much of glamour might;
Could make a lady seem a knight;
The cobwebs on a dungeon wall
Seem tapestry in a lordly hall;
A nut-shell seem a gilded barge,
A sheeting seem a palace large,
And youth seem age, and age seem youth,
All was delusion, nought was truth.*
* The most extraordinary instances that are to be met with on the subject of
glamour, are collected by Delrio, in his citations from Dubravius' history of Bo¬
hemia. Winceslaus, son to the Emperor Charles IV., marrying the Duke of
Bavaria's daughter, the duke who understood that his son-in-law delighted in
feats of conjuration, sent to Prague for a waggon load of magicians to enliven
the nuptials. While the most scientific of these were puzzling for some new illu-
GYPSIES.
10!)
It is not now possible to fix the precise date of Lady Cas-
silis' elopement with the gypsey laddie. She was born in the
year 1607, and is said to have died young; but, if she ran off
with her lover during her husband's first journey to England,
in quality of ruling elder deputed to the assembly of divines at
Westminster, 1643, to ratify the solemn league and covenant,
she could not even then have been in her first youth; and it is
certain that she lived long enough in her confinement at Maybole,
to work a piece of tapestry, still preserved at Colzean House, in
which she represented her unhappy flight, but with circum¬
stances unsuitable to the details of the ballad, and as if the deceits
of glamour had still bewildered her memory; for she is mounted
beside her lover, gorgeously attired on a superb white courser,
sion, Winceslaus' family conjuror, Zyto by name, who had slid privately in among
the crowd, of a sudden presented himself, having his mouth, as it seemed, en¬
tangled on both sides, open to his very ears; he goes straight to the duke's chief
conjuror, and swallows him up with all that he wore,' saving his pantouffles
(slippers,), which, being dirty, he spit a great way from bim. After this feat,
feeling himself uneasy with such a load on his stomach, he hastens to a great tub
that stood by full of water, voids the man into it, and them brings him back to
the company, dripping wet, and overwhelmed with confusion; on w hich the other
magicians would show no more tricks. This same master Zyto, w ho, par pa¬
rent hese, was, at last, himself carried off bodily by the devil, could appear w ith
any visage he chose. When the king walked on the land, he would seem to
swim on the water towards him; or, if his majesty was carried in a litter with
horses, Zyto would follow in another borne up by cocks. He made thirty fat
swine of so many wisps of hay, and sold them to a rich baker at a very high
price, desiring him not to allow them to enter into any water; but the baker
forgetting this injunction, found only the wisps of hay swimming on the surface
of a pool; and in a mighty chafe seeking out Zyto, who was extended upon a
bench, and seemingly asleep, he seized him by one leg to awake him, when lo!
both the leg and thigh seemed to remain in his hands, which fdled him with so
much terror, that he complained no more of the cheat. Zyto, at the banquet of
the king, would sometimes change the hands of the guests into the hoofs of an
ox or horse, so that they could not extend them to the dishes to help themselves
to any thing; and if they looked out of the windows, he beautified their heads
w ith horns;—a trick, by the by, which perhaps Johnnie Faa could have played
to Lord Cassilis with infinitely greater significance.
" Two magicians," says Delrio, " met in the court of Elizabeth, Queen of Eng¬
land, and agreed that in any one thing they should certainly obey each other.
The one, thereupon, commands the other to thrust his head out of the casement,
which he had no sooner done than a huge pair of stags' horns were seen planted
on his forehead, to the no small delight of the spectators, who laughed at, and
mocked him extremely; but when it came to the horned magician's turn to be
obeyed, he made his adversary stand upright against a wall, which instantly
opening, swallowed him up, so that he was never afterwards seen."
170
GYPSIEH.
and surrounded by a group of persons wbo bear no resemblance
to a herd of tatterdemalion gypsies.
But it appears from the criminal records of Edinburgh, that,
in January 1624, eight men, among whom were Captain John
Faa, and live more of the name of Faa, were convicted on the
statute against Egyptians, and suffered according to sentence. *
We are strongly induced to believe that this was the Johnnie of
the ballad, whom Lord Cassilis wisely got hanged in place of
slaying him in the held. Indeed, a stranger of the song, as it is
sometimes recited, states that eight of the gypsies were hanged
at Carlisle, and the rest at the Border. If this conjecture be
right, the lady's lover was married as well as herself; for, a few
days after John's trial, Helen Faa, relict of the captain, Lucretia
Faa, and nine other female gypsies, were brought to judgment
and condemned to be drowned ; but the barbarous sentence was
afterwards commuted to that of banishment, under pain of death
to them and all their race should they ever return to Scotland.
The Earl of Cassilis * divorced his lady a mensa et thoro, and
confined her, as has been already said, in a tower at Maybole,
where eight heads carved in stone, below one of the turrets, are
still pointed out as representing eight of the luckess Egyptians. It
ought to be remembered, that this frail one did not carry on the
noble family into which she married; for she bore only two
daughters to the earl, of whom one became the wife of Lord
Dundonald, and the other, in the last stage of antiquated vir¬
ginity, bestowed her hand, upon the youthful Gilbert Burnet,
thenthe busy intriguing inmate of Hamilton Palace, where Lady
Margaret Kennedy generally resided, afterwards the well-known
bishop of Salisbury.
The gypsies, it appears, did not bring any particular religion
* From an abridgement of the acts of parliament and convention, from thereign
of King James, we extract the following relative to gipsies, the act, no doubt,
under which the dingy gallant, Johnnie Faa suffered, he he the individual in
question; though there remains some doubt that the government would hang a
man whom they had called upon to assist them in relieving the country of his
vagrant brethren, unless he proved refractory to this command. "An act, ba¬
nishing all vagabonds, called Egyptians, forth of the kingdom for ever, after the
first of August, 1609, and not to return under the pain of death, to be execute
upon them as notorious thieves, on trial to be taken by an assize, that they are
holden and reputed Egyptians, and that none visit them, and all w arrants in (he
contrary are declared void.—Jam. 6, par. 20, cap. IS.
GYPSIES.
171
with them from their native country; by which, as the Jews,
they could be distinguished among other persons, but regulate
themselves in religious matters, according to the country where
they live. Being very inconsistent in their choice of residence,
they are likewise so in respect to religion. No gypsey has an idea
of submission to any fixed profession of faith; it is as easy for
him to change his religion at every new village, as for another
person to shift his coat. They suffer themselves to be baptised
in christian countries; among Mahometans to be circumcised.
They are Greeks with Greeks, catholics with catholics, and again
profess themselves to be protestants, whenever they happen to
reside where that may be the prevailing religion.
From this mutability, we conceive what kind of ideas they
have, and from thence we may deduce their general opinions of
religion. As parents suffer their children to grow up, without
either education or instruction, and were reared in the same
manner themselves, so neither the one nor the other have any
knowledge of God or religion. Very few of them like to attend
to any discourse on the subject; they hear what is said with
indifference, nay rather with impatience and repugnance; de¬
spising all remonstrance, believing nothing, they live on without
the least solicitude, concerning what shall become of them alter
this life. In this manner the greatest part of these people think,
with regard to religion; it naturally follows that their conduct
should be conformable to such opinions and conceptions. Every
duty is neglected, no prayer ever passes their lips; as little are
they to be found in any assembly of public woiship; from
whence the Wallachians have a saying, "the gypsies' church
was built with bacon, and the dogs ate it." The religious party
from which a gypsey apostatizes, as little loses a brother believer,
as the one to which he goes acquires one. He is neither ma-
hommedan nor christian; for the doctrines of Mahomet and of
Christ are unlike unknown or indifferent to him, producing no
other effect than, that in Turkey his child is circumcised, and
baptised in Christendom. Even this is not done from any motive
of reverence for the commands of religion; at least the circum¬
stance of a gypsey's choosing to have his child several times
baptized, in order to get more christening money, strongly in¬
dicates a very indifferent reason. This is the state of the gypsey
religion in every country where thev are found.
172
GYPSIES.
Besides, that every gypsey understands and speaks the lan¬
guage of the country where he lives, these people having been
always famed for their knowledge of various ones, acquired by
their frequent removal from place to place, they have a general
language of their own, in which they always converse with each
other. Writers are of different opinions concerning this, whether
it be a fictitious language, or really that of any country, and
who are the people from whom it originates. Some pronounce
it a mere jargon, others say it is gibberish. We can by no
means agree with the first, as the only ground for the assertion
is, barely, that they do not know any other language correspon¬
dent to that of the gypsies. But they do not seem to have con¬
sidered how extravagant a surmise it is to believe a whole
language an invention, that too, of people, rude, uncivilized,
and hundreds of miles distant from each other. This opinion
is too extravagant to employ more time to controvert it. The
gypsey language cannot be admitted for gibberish neither, unless
by those who know nothing of the former, or are totally ignorant
of the latter, which is corrupt German; whereas the former
has neither German words, inflexions, nor the least affinity in
sound.
It is now, we believe, pretty generally agreed, that the gypsies
came originally from Hindostan; since their language so far
coincides with the Hindostanic, that even now, after a lapse of
nearly four centuries, during which they have been dispersed
in various foreign countries, nearly one half of their words are
precisely those of Hindostan; * and scarcely any variation is to
be found in vocabularies procured from the gypsies in Turkey,
Hungary, Germany, and those in England, j- Their manners,
for the most part, coincide, as well as the language, in every
quarter of the globe where they are found ; being the same idle
* Grellraan's opinion seems extremely plausible, that they are of the lowest
class of Indians, called Suders, and that they left India when Timur Beg ravaged
that country in 1408 and 1409, putting to death immense numbers of all ranks
of people.
f Mr. Marsden first made inquiries among the English gypsies concerning
their language.—Vide Archajologia, vol. ii. pp. 382—386. Mr. Coxe commu¬
nicated a vocabulary of words used by those of Hungary.'—See the same volume
of the Archaeologia, p. 387. Any person who may wish to be convinced of the
similarity of language, and is possessed of a vocabulary of words used in Hin¬
dostan, may be satisfied of its truth bj conversing \vith the first gypsey he
meets.
GYPSIES.
17:}
wandering set of beings, and seldom professing any mode of
acquiring a livelihood, except that of fortune telling.
The gypsies have no writing peculiar to them in which to
express their language. Writing or reading are in general very
uncommon accomplishments with any of them, nor must they
be at all expected among the wandering sort. Sciences and the
refined arts are not even to he thought of among people whose
manner of living and education are so rough. Twiss does, in¬
deed, mention, that the Spanish gypsies have some knowledge
of medicine and surgery; but wo betide the person who con¬
fides in their skill. Music is the only science in which the gypsies
participate in any considerable degree; they sometimes compose
likewise, but it is. after the manner of the eastern people,
extempore.
Few of the descendants of the aboriginal gypsies are to be
found any where in Europe at the present day, and in Switzer¬
land and England less than any where else. The severity of the
police against this description of the degenerate vagabonds ex¬
isting at the present day, have considerably thinned their pha¬
lanxes, and brought them to something like a due sense of the
laws and expectations of civilized society. What remains of
them, nevertheless, continue one way or other to elude the
vigilance of the laws by different masked or pretended callings,
under which they ostensibly appear to carry on their usual
traffic.
The modern gypsies pretend that they derive their origin from
the ancient Egyptians, who were famous for their knowledge in
astronomy and other sciences; and, under the pretence of for¬
tune-telling, find means to rob or defraud the credulous and su¬
perstitious. To colour their impostures, they artificially discolour
their faces, and speak a kind of gibberish or cant peculiar to
themselves. They rove up and down the country in large com¬
panies, to the great terror of the farmers, from whose geese,
turkies, and fowls, they take considerable contributions. The
following account of these wandering beings is extracted from
Evelyn's Journal, which throws some light on their degeneracy
from the primitive tribes:—
" In our statutes they are called Egyptians, which implies a
counterfeit kind of rogues,' who being English or Welsh people,'
disguise themselves in uncouth habits, meaning their faces and
174
GYPSEY COLONY.
bodies, and framing to themselves an unknown, canting language,
wander up and down, under pretence of telling fortunes, curing
diseases, &c. abuse the common people, trick them of their money,
and steal all that is not too hot or too heavy for them."
In 1531, the wandering bands styled gypsies were so nume¬
rous and noxious in England, that an act was passed to banish
them from the realm, on pain of imprisonment and confiscation
of property. The Earl of Arran, during his regency, a few
years afterwards, took a different method to get rid of these
hated vagabonds, by ordering all sheriffs and other magistrates
to assist John Faw, Lord and Earl of little Egypt, to collect to¬
gether his subjects, the gypsies (many of whom had rebelled
against Faw, under the guidance of one Sebastian Lalow), that
he might carry them back to their own country, as he had en¬
gaged to do.
Gypsey Colony.—" The energy and perseverance by which
North Britons are distinguished, will be evinced throughout the
pages of this section. A friend of the author, having been re¬
quested to make application at the Advocates' and the University
Libraries, in the city of Edinburgh, for extracts from some fo¬
reign publications, was also desired to transmit with them, what
information could be obtained respecting the Gypsies in Scot¬
land.
" With a promptitude and zeal which characterise genuine
philanthropy, a circular, containing four queries, was dispatched
to the Sheriff of every county in that nation; soliciting, through
the medium of an official organ, all the intelligence which could
be obtained on the subject. In consequence, returns have been
made from nearly the whole of the shires, either by the Sheriff,
or his substitute; generally addressed to George Miller, jun.
Edinburgh, who has been a most effective coadjutor on this oc¬
casion.
"From thirteen counties, the reports are, 'No Gypsies re¬
sident in themsome others give account of their only passing
through at times.
"William Frazer Tytler, Sheriff of Inverness-shire, writes as
follows: ' The undertaking in which you are engaged, for the ci-
* From " Heyland's Historical Survey of the gypsies." 8vo. York, 1816.
GYPSEY COLONY.
175
vilization of so lost a portion of mankind, merits every support.
Its effects may be more generally and extensively useful in Eng¬
land, where those unfortunate people are extremely numerous.
In Scotland, their number is comparatively small, and particularly
so in the county of Inverness.'
" Alexander Moor, Sheriff Depute of Aberdeenshire, states :
' There are not any Gypsies who have a permanent residence in
that Sheriffalty. Occasionally, vagrants, both single and in
bands, appear in this part of the country; resorting the fairs,
where they commit depredations on the unwary. Some of them
are supposed to be connected with Gypsies in the southern part
of the island.'
" John Blair, sheriff-substitute for the county of Bute, writes:
' I have to inform, that the people generally known by the de¬
scription of gypsies, are not in use to come hither, unless abject
itinerant tinkers and braziers, generally from Ireland, may be
accounted such. A few of them often visit us, and take up
their abode for a time in different parts of the country, where
people can be prevailed upon to give them the accommodation
of an out-house or hut.'
" They are understood to be illiterate; neither they nor their
children, who are often numerous, being able to read.
" The distinguished northern poet, Walter Scott, who is
sheriff of Selkirkshire, has in a very obliging manner commu¬
nicated the following statement:
" ' A set of people possessing the same erratic habits, and
practising the trade of tinkers, are well known in the Borders;
and have often fallen under the cognizance of the law.—They
are often called gypsies, and pass through the county annually
in small bands, with their carts and asses. The men are tinkers,
poachers, and thieves, upon a small scale. They also sell crock¬
ery, deal in old rags, in eggs, in salt, in tobacco, and such trifles;
and manufacture horn into spoons. I believe most of those
who come through Selkirkshire resided during winter in the
villages of Sterncliff and Spittal, in Northumberland, and in
that of Kirk Yetholm, Roxburghshire.
" ' Mr. Smith, the respectable bailie of Kelso, can give the
most complete information concerning those who reside at Kirk
Yetholm. Formerly, I believe, they were much more des-
176
GYPSEY COLONY.
perate in their conduct than at present. But some of the most
atrocious families have been extirpated; I allude particularly to
the Winters, a Northumberland clan, who, I fancy, are all
buried by this time.
" ' Mr. Reddell, justice of peace for Roxburghshire, with my
assistance and concurrence, cleared this county of the last of
them, about eight or nine years ago. They were thorough des¬
peradoes, of the worst of classes of vagabonds. Those who
now travel through this county give offence chiefly by poaching
and small thefts. They are divided into clans, the principal
names being Faa, Bailie, Young, Ruthven, and Gordon.
" ' All of them are perfectly ignorant of religion, nor do their
children receive any education. They marry and cohabit
amongst each other, and are held in a sort of horror by the
common people.
" ' I do not conceive them to be the proper oriental Egyptian
race; at least they are much intermingled with our own national
outlaws and vagabonds. They are said to keep up a commu¬
nication with each other through Scotland, and to have some
internal government and regulation as to the districts which each
family travels.
"' I cannot help again referring to Mr. Smith, of Kelso, a
gentleman who can give the most accurate information respect¬
ing the habits of those itinerants, as their winter-quarters of
Yetholm are upon an estate of which he has long had the ma¬
nagement.'
" It is very satisfactory to have received from an authority so
respectable as that of William Smith, the Bailie of Kelso, above
referred to, answers to the four queries of the circular; accom¬
panied by his own interesting and appropriate illustrations, from
which extracts were made as follow, dated November, 1815.
" Query 1st. What number of gypsies in this county?
"A. I know of none except the colony of Yethohn, and one
family who lately removed from that place to Kelso. Yetholm
consists of two towns, or large villages, called Town Yetholm,
and Kirk Yetholm. The first is in the estate of Mr. Wauehope,
of Niddry; the latter in that of the Marquis of Tweedale. The
number of the gypsey colony at present in Kirk Yetholm amounts
to at least 100 men, women, and children: and perhaps two or
GYPSIES.
177
three may have escaped notice.—They marry early in life, in
general have many children, and their number seems to be in¬
creasing.
" Query 2d. In what do the men and women mostly employ
themselves ?
" A. I have known the colony between forty and fifty years.
At my first remembrance of them, they were called the Tinklers
(tinkers) of Yelholm, from the males being chiefly then em¬
ployed in mendftig pots, and other culinary utensils, especially
in their peregrinations through the hilly and less populous parts
of the country.
" Sometimes they were called Horners, from their occupation
in making and selling horn spoons, called cutties. Now their
common appellation is that of muggers, or, what pleases them
better, potters. They purchase, at a cheap rate, the cast or
faulty articles, at the different manufactories of earthenware,
which they carry for sale all over the country; consisting of
groups of six, ten, and sometimes twelve or fourteen persons,
male and female, young and old, provided with a horse and
cart to transport the pottery; besides shelties and asses to carry
the youngest of the children, and such baggage as they find ne¬
cessary.
" In the country, they sleep in barns, and byres, or other out¬
houses; and when they cannot find that accommodation, they
take the canvass covering from the pottery cart, and squat below
it like a covey of partridges in the snow.
" A few of the colony also employ themselves occasionally in
making besoms, foot-bosses, &c. from heath, broom, and bent,
and sell them at Kelso, and the neighbouring towns. After all,
their employment can be considered little better than an apology
for idleness and vagrancy.
" They are in general great adepts in hunting, shooting, and
fishing; in which last they use the net and spear, as well as the
rod; and often supply themselves with a hearty meal by their
dexterity. They have no notion of their being limited in their
field sports, either to time, place, or mode of destruction.
" I do not see that the women are any otherwise employed,
than attending the young children, and assisting to sell the pot¬
tery when carried through the country.
12
.178
GYPSIES.
" Query 3d. Have they any settled abode in winter, and
where ?
" A. Their residence, with the exception of a single family, who
some years ago came to Kelso, is at Kirk Yetholm, and chiefly
confined to one row of houses, or street of that town, which goes
by the name of Tinkler-row. Most of them have leases of their
possessions, granted for a term of nineteen times nineteen years,
for payment of a small sum yearly ; something of the nature of
a quit rent. There is no fradition in the neighbourhood con¬
cerning the time when the gypsies first took up their residence at
that place, nor whence they came.
"Most of their leases, I believe, were granted by the family
of the Bennets and Grubet; the last of whom was Sir David
Rennet, who died about sixty years ago. The late Mr. Nesbit
of Dirleton then succeeded to the estate, comprehending the ba¬
ronies of Kirk Yetholm and Grubet. He died about the year
1783, and not long after, the property was acquired by the late
Lord Tweedale's trustees.
" During the latter part of the late Mr. Nesbit, he was less fre¬
quently at his estate in Roxburghshire than formerly. He was
a great favourite of the gypsies, and was in use to call them his
body-guards, and often gave them money," &c.
Notes.—"I remember that about forty-five years ago, being
then apprentice to a writer, who was in use to receive the rents as
well as the small duties of Kirk Yetholm, he sent me there with
a list of names, and a statement of what was due; recommending
me to apply to the landlord of the public-house, in the village, for
any information or assistance which I might need.
"After waiting a long time, and receiving payment from most
of the feuers, or rentallers, I observed to him that none of the
persons of the names of Faa, Young, Blythe, Fleckie, &c. who
stood at the bottom of the list for small sums, had come to
meet me, according to the notice given by the Baron officer; and
proposed sending to inform them that they were detaining me,
and to request their immediate attendance.
" The landlord, with a grave face, inquired whether my
master had desired me to ask money from those men ? I said,
not particularly; but they stood on the list. ' So, I see,' said
GYPSIES.
179
the landlord; ' but had your master been here himself, he did
not dare to ask money from them, either as rent or feu duty.—
He knows that it is as good as if it were in his pocket. They will
pay when their own time comes, but do not like to pay at a set
time with the rest of the barony; and still less to be craved.'
"I accordingly returned without their money, and reported
progress. I found that the landlord was right; my master said
with a smile, that it was unnecessary to send to them, after the
previous notice from the baron officer; it was enough if I had
received the money if offered. Their rent and feu duty was
brought to the office in a few weeks. I need scarcely add, those
persons all belonged to the tribe.
" When first I knew any thing about the colony, old Will Faa
was king or leader, and had held the sovereignty for many years.
"Meeting at Kelso with Mr. Walter Scott, who se discriminat¬
ing habits and just observations I had occasion to know from his
youth, and at the same time seeing one of my Yetholm friends
in the horse-market, I merely said to Mr. Scott, ' Try to get be¬
fore that man with the long drab coat; look at him on your re¬
turn, and tell me whether you ever saw him, and what you think
of him.' He was so good as to indulge me; and rejoining me,
said, without hesitation, ' I never saw the man, that I know of;
but he is one of the gypsies of Yetholm, that you told me of se¬
veral years ago.' I need scarcely say that he was perfectly correct.
"The descendants of Faa now take the name of Fall, from
the Mess. Fall, of Dunbar, who, they pride themselves in saying,
are of the same stock and lineage. When old Will Faa was
upwards of eighty years of age, he called on me at Kelso, in his
way to Edinburgh, telling that he was going to see the laird, the
late Mr. Nesbit, ofDirleton, as he understood that he was very
unwell, and himself being now old and not so stout as he had
been, he wished to see hi'm once more before he died.
"The old man set out by the nearest road, which was by no
means his common practice. Next market-day some of the
farmers informed me, that they had been in Edinburgh, and
seen Will Faa upon the bridge (the south bridge was not then
built) ; that he was tossing about his old brown hat, and huzzaing
with great vociferation, that he had seen the laird before he died.
Indeed Will himself had no time to lose, for having set his face
homewards by the way of the sea coast, to vary his route, as is
12 *
180
WITCHES.
the general custom of the gang, he only got the length of Cold-
ingham, when he was taken ill and died."
Before receiving the very interesting report from William
Smith, the author of this Survey was entirely at a loss to deter¬
mine what was become of the descendants of John Faw, who
styled himself Lord and Earl of Little Egypt; and with a nume¬
rous retinue entered Scotland in the reign of Queen Mary, as
stated in Section the 5th. His complaint of his men refusing to
return home with him, might be only a feint, invented to cover
his design of continuing in the country; for there does not ap¬
pear to be any traces in history of the banishment of Fawgang,
or of their quitting Scotland. But in the above-cited report, we
find at the head of the Tinklers a Will Faa, in Whose name
there is only a variation of one letter from that of his distin¬
guished predecessor; and that in reference to this origin, he as¬
serts the Falls of Dunbar to be of the same stock and lineage.*
WITCHES.
In the records of ignorance and credulity, there is not perhaps
a more melancholy proof of the aberration of the human mind,
than that which is exhibited by the very general belief in witch¬
craft, which, in this country, continued to prevail, even to the
close of the 17th century, and which, even at the present mo¬
ment, is far from being completely eradicated. The sex, age,
condition, of the individuals commonly accused of this crime,—
the utter improbability of the accusation itself, and of the cruel
acts by which it was attempted to prove it—the horrid means
by which confessions were extorted,—and the cruel doom which
awaited conviction—do not appear to have raised any doubts of
the reality of their guilt, and very rarely to have excited in the
minds of their judges those feelings of commiseration, which
nothing but the grossest superstition has ever been able alto¬
gether to repress with the sufferings of the greatest criminal. But
it is not our intention here to enter upon the very extensive field
to which these general views would conduct us. Suffice it, on
* A faithful picture of a wandering horde of Bohemians, or aboriginal gypsies,
may be found in Quentin Durward, pages 196 to 201.
WITCHES.
181
this occasion, merely to notice the law and practice of Scotland,
in regard to the alleged crime of witchcraft; and then to mark
the dawn of improvement in public opinion at the commence¬
ment of the 18th century, displayed in the case of the witches
of Pittenween, in Fifeshire.
It is a singular circumstance in the history of this delusion in
Scotland, that the only statute against witchcraft passed so late
as in 1563, a period when the superstition of the dark ages was
shaken to its foundation by the spirit of inquiry, which, in a few
years, led to the complete establishment of the reformation.
As this remarkable statute, which brought so many innocent
beings to an untimely end, is not very long, we shall here insert
it. The reader cannot fail to perceive, on comparing this simple
and concise enactment with the elaborate and voluminous acts
of the present age, how much the technical part of the science
of legislation has been improved in the intermediate period :
" Queen Marie,—ninth parliament,
" IV of June, 1563.
"73. AnentisWitchcraft.es."
" Item, For sa meikle as the Queenis Majestie, and the three
estaites in this present parliament, being informed that the
heavie and abominable superstition used by divers of the lieges
of this realme, be using of witchcraftes, sorcerie, and necro-
mancie, and credence given thereto in times by-gone, against
the law of God ; and for avoiding and away-putting of all such
vaine superstition in times to come; it is statute and ordained
by the Queenes Majestie, and the three estaites foresaides, that
na-maner of person or persones, of quhat-sum-ever estaite,
degree or condition, they be off, take upon hand in onie times
hereafter to use onie maner of witchcraftes, sorcerie, or necro-
mancie, nor give themselves furth to have onie seik crafte or
knowledge thereof, their-throw abusand the people: nor that na
person seek onie help, response, or consultation at onie sik users
or abusers forsaidis of witch-craftes, sorcerie, or necromancie,
under the paine of death, alsweil to be execute against the user,
abuser, as the seeker of the response or consultation. And this
to be put to execution be the justice, Scbireffis, Stewards,
Raillies, Lordes of Regalites and Royalties, their deputies, and
182
WITCHES.
eithers ordinar judges incompetent within this realme, with aM
vigour, have power to execute the samen."*
It deserves also to be remarked, that the trials for witchcraft
seem to have been more numerous about a hundred years after
the Reformation had taken place,f though during this interval the
nation had not only acquired a thorough conviction of the value
of civil and religious liberty, but shed its blood in the most
arduous struggles to obtaia and secure both, under circum¬
stances of peculiar difficulty and discouragement. If the legal
murders which the records of our criminal courts prove to have
been committed during this period, had occurred in that com¬
paratively remote age which Shakspeare has penetrated with
the light of his genius in his tragedy of Macbeth, however much
we might lament the infatuation of our forefathers, we should
lind it less difficult to account for their proceedings. But Sir
George Mackenzie, in his " Laws and Customs of Scotland in
Matters Criminal," so late as 1678, never insinuates a doubt of
the reality of witchcraft, thou'gh he was led to express his strong
disapprobation of the forms of trial then in use in a number of
instances. On the contrary, indeed, this eminent lawyer stoutly
defends the popular belief against the more liberal views of
" many lawyers in Holland and elsewhere."
* It has been doubted, and we think with much propriety, whether the framers
of this act themselves believed in witchcraft, and whether by denouncing the
same heavy penalty against the dupe and the impostor, they even expected it to
be executed at all. The judges and juries , however, never seem to have any
doubts about the matter.
f In the year 1661, the number of commissioners' upon record for trying
persons suspected of witchcraft are very considerable in various parts of Scot¬
land : they all confessed themselves guilty of the " abominable cryme of witch¬
craft, in entering into paction with the devill, renuncing their baptisme, and
otherways," &c. In 1662, the number is still more considerable, but the
commissions seem to have been granted under certain qualifications; for instance,
June 12,1662, commission is granted to Sir Archibald Douglas, sheriff-principal
of Roxburgh, and others, " to try and judge Bessie Thompson, Malie Thompson,
Agness Quarie and Malie Turnbull, who have confest themselves to be guilty
of witchcraft, with these qualities, that if they shall be found guilty, upon vo¬
luntary confessions, by renouncing of baptisme, paction with the divell, or com¬
mitting of malefices, without any sort of torture or other indirect means used,
and that the tyme of their confession and pactioning with the divell, they wer
of eompleat age, sound judgment, no ways distracted, or under any earnest
desire to dy, and reiterat the former confessions made by them judicially; and
then, and in those cases, the said commmissioners cause the sentence of death
to be executed upon them, and no otherways."
WITCHES.
183
The same belief prevailed in England posterior to the middle
of the seventeenth century. At the assizes held at Bury St.
Edmund's, for the county of Suffolk, on the 10th March, 1664,
before Sir Matthew Hale, Rose Cullender and Amy Duny,
widows, were found guilty of witchcraft, "upon a long evidence,"
and hanged a few days after.* In the absurdity of the accu¬
sation, the insufficiency of the evidence, and the iniquity of the
verdict,—the unhappy women asserting their innocence in their
last moments,—this remarkable trial is in no degree exceeded
by any similar one in Scotland.
We find the following curious document among a collection
of others, published a few years ago:f—"Edinburgh, Novem¬
bers, (1652) There was a man condemned for a witch, a
very simple fellow, but he was reprieved. It is very observable
in him, that upon a commission from the judges in June last,
and afterwards before the judges, he confessed himself to have
had familiar converse with the devil,—that he gave him a piece
of silver, which was put into a crevice of his neighbour's house
who had crost him, and thereupon all his cattle and horses died;
and (after a year's languishment) the woman herself. He said
also that he renounced his name, for which the devil gave him
a new one, which is Alexander, or Sandy; that he sometimes
lay with the devil in the likeness of a woman, with many other
stories of that nature; and yet most of them that have conversed
with him say they cannot believe him to be a witch. Before
the judges at his trial, he denied all that he had confessecPbe-
fore, and said he was in a dream. Yet the very day that he
should have been executed, he was not at all afraid, but seemed
indifferent whether to live or die.
" The truth is, he lived in so poor a condition, and was (through
his simplicity) so unable to get his livelihood, that he confessed,
or rather said, every thing that was put into his head by some
that accused him, upon the confession of some who have died
witches. By this you may guess upon what grounds many
* Trial of Witches, &c. taken by a person then attending the court, printed
in 1716.
f Military Memoirs of the great Civil War; being the Military Memoirs of
John Gwynne; and an Account of the Earl of Glencairn's Expedition in the
Highlands of Scotland, in 1653 and 1654.
184
WITCHES.
hundreds have heretofore been burnt in this country for
witches *
It was not until 1735, by the 9th Geo. II., c. 5, that pro¬
secutions for witchcraft, and for imputing witchcraft to others,
were prohibited: and it does not appear that the wisdom of the
legislature in this repeal had been anticipated by the progress
of knowledge among the great body of the people, to such an
extent as has been sometimes alleged. So late as 1722, a
person was brought to the stake in Scotland for the crime of
witchcraft, under the authority of the sheriff-depute of the
county of Sutherland.-J- In 1743, a body of dissenters, who
have since become numerous and respectable, published an act
of their presbytery, in which, among the national sins enume¬
rated as the causes of God's wrath against Scotland, is to be
found the repeal of the penal statutes against witches, "contrary
to the express law of God," and the same doctrine is still taught
from their pulpits, and firmly believed by the far greater
number of their adherents. Indeed, a belief in witches prevails
even at the present enlightened period among the lower orders
in different parts of Scotland, whatever may be their religious
persuasion.
In many parishes in Scotland, traditional tales of witches, and
specific instances of their preternatural power, are still current,
only a few of which have passed through the press. Of the
works on this curious subject, "Satan's Invisible World Dis¬
covered," by "Master George Sinclair, late professor of philo¬
sophic at the College of Glasgow," seems to have been received
with peculiar favour, the lords of council having, by an order,
dated at Edinburgh, 26th Feb. 1685, prohibited and discharged
all persons "from printing, re-printing, or importing into this
kingdom, any copie or copies of the said book, during the space
of eleven years after the date hereof, without licence of the
* The sectaries, however wedded to their own enthusiastic dreams, were
free from the infatuated belief in witchcraft, which characterised the Presby¬
terians both in Scotland and England. During the brief domination of Presbytery
in the latter country, a great many unhappy victims were executed, under the
direction and upon the evidence of a pretended witch finder, called Hopkins,
mentioned in Hudibras. The infatuation continued in Scotland to a much later
period ; the last witch being executed in 1722.
f Arnot's Criminal Trials, p. 412.
WITCHES. 185
author or his order." The last edition printed is within a few
years; and the editor, without the slightest intimation of any
doubts as to the truth of the marvellous narratives it contains,
has enriched his work with " some additional relations which
have happened in the shire of Renfrew, towns of Pittenween,
Calder, and other places." The Renfrewshire witches, indeed,
have been thought to merit the honour of a separate "history,"
which was published in 1809, by the editor of the Paisley Re¬
porter. We regret we cannot do as much justice to the old
dames of Pittenween, who, notwithstanding the very laudable
exertions of their minister and magistrates, had the singular
good fortune to escape the flames, through the obstinacy of the
privy council, who could not be prevailed on to bring them to
trial. What could be done, however, by these active enemies
of the evil one, was not spared. The witches were imprisoned
and tortured, and confessed in the usual manner. One of them
was starved in prison, and the rabble enjoyed " three hours'
sport" in murdering another, by the permissive power of the
legal guardians of their lives and properties on earth, and of
their saintly guide to Heaven.
" About the month of March, 1704, there lived in the town of
Pittenween, a noted witch, Reatrix Laing, by name, who came
to one Patrick Mortoun, a blacksmith, with an order for some
nails, which this person, being otherwise employed at the time,
refused to execute. The witch went away muttering threats of
course, and soon after was detected, by the blacksmith, in the
use of a charm, of which even the literal description is not with¬
out its difficulties. Patrick, with another person in company,
carrying some fish by the said Reatrix Layng's door, they saw a
vessel with water placed at the door, with burning coal in it,
upon which he was presently stricken with an impression, that
it was a charm designed against him; and upon this, a little after
he was sickened."*
This is the account of the party so active in the concern
against the witches ; and is given from a pamphlet published in
their defence, after their proceedings had drawn upon them the
notice of the privy council. Convincing, however, as this charm
* A just reproof of tlie false reports, &c. printed in 170(i.
186
WITCHES.
must have been to the magistrates and minister of Pittenween,
as well as to the blacksmith himself of the diablerie of Layng,
other proofs were not wanting. The physicians would not un¬
derstand Morton's distemper. At length he was seized with fits,
and in due time delated (accused) Layng and a number of other
persons as his tormentors, who were forthwith thrown into
prison, and subjected to the usual preparatory process of pricking
or brodding, to prevent them from sleeping, and to extort from
them a confession of guilt.
" It was upon his (Morton's) accusation ulteriorly the mi¬
nisters and bailiffs imprisoned these poor women, and set a guard
of drunken fellows about them, who, by pinching and pricking,
some of them with pins and elesions (awls), kept them from sleep
for several nights together; the marks whereof were seen by se¬
veral, a month thereafter. This cruel usage made some of them
learn to be so wise, as to acknowledge every question that was
asked them; whereby they found the ministers and bailiffs well
pleased, and themselves belter treated." *
Nothing upon this subject of witchcraft has ever appeared
more extraordinary, than the confessions of the accused them¬
selves. But this wonder must cease, when we know the means
by which they were extorted. " Thrusting of pins into the flesh,
and keeping the accused from sleep, were the ordinary treatment
of a witch. But if the prisoner was endued with uncommon
fortitude, other methods were used to extort confession. The
boots and capsie-claws, and the pilniewinks, engines for tor¬
turing the legs, the arms and the fingers, were applied to either
sex, and that with such violence, that sometimes the blood would
have spouted from the limb. Loading with heavy irons, and
whipping with cords, till the skin and flesh were torn from the
bones, have also been the adopted methods of torture."j-
Of the treatment which the wretched Layng experienced, in
consequence of the ridiculous charge we Jiave mentioned, we
have some account in a petition which she presented to the privy
council, about a year afterwards, praying for protection against
the rabble, who had murdered another woman, a few months
* An answer of a letter from a gentleman in Fife to a nobleman, printed
in 1705.
f Arnot's Criminal Trials, p. 413.
WITCHES.
187
before, and which detestable outrage, does not seem to have had
its proper effect upon the darkened intellects of the rulers of
that burgh :—
"Act and protection to Bettie Layng,
" Att the palace of Holyrudehouse.
"May 1, 1705.
" Anent the supplication given in and presented to his grace, her majesty's;
high commissioner, and the lords of her majesties privy council, by Bettie
Laing, spous to William Brown, tayleor, and late tbeasurer of the town of Pit—
tenween, humbly shewing, that the petitioner having met with most cruel! and
unclrristianlike treatment in the town of Pittenween, upon no other ground than
bare affection of ane Peter Mortoun, a young man in the said town, who being
under a natural disease, which had some strange effect upon his body, pretended
that the petitioner, and other persons he named, wer witches, and tormented
him : upon this very unsutficient ground, the petitioner was thrown into the
talbootli of Pittenween, by the minister and magistrates thereof; and because
she would not confess that she was a witch, and in compact with the divell,
was tortured by keeping her awake, without sleep for fyve days and nights to¬
gether, and by continually pricking her with instruments in the shoulders,
back, and thighs, that the blood gushed out in great abundance, so that her
lyfe was a burden to her ; and they urging her continuallie to confess, the pe¬
titioner expressed severall things as they directed her, to be rede of the pre¬
sent torture; and because she afterwards avowed and publickly told, that what
she said to them, of her having seen the divell, &c., was lyes and untruths,
they put her in the stocks for several dayes, and then carried her to the thiefs'
hall, and from that they transported her to a dark dungeon, where she was al¬
lowed no manner of licht, nor human converse, and in this condition she lay
for five months together; and at last, having found means to get out of the said
dungeon, she wandered about in strange places, in the extremity of hunger and
cold, though she thanked God, she had a competency at home, but dared not
come near her own house, because of the fury and rage of the people; and
the petitioner being willing to undergoe any legal! tryall upon the said cryme
hereof she was accused, and for denying of which she had been so inhumanly
treated : she confidently presumed their grace and their lops, would grant her
the common benefit of protection to her person, till she were legally convict of
crymes rendering her indeserving of it: and this she was necessitated to de¬
mand of your lops.: for that she having lately returned to her own house at
Pittenween, expecting to live safely and quietly with her husband, the rabble
there so menaced, and threatened to treat her as they had done Janet Corn-
foot, a little before, &c. &c. His grace her majesties high commissioner, &c.
&c., declares the petitioner to be under the protection of the government; and
therefore, his grace and the said lords, appoints and ordains the magistrates of
Pittenween, to maintain and defend the petitioner against any tumults and
mobbs, insult and violence, that may fall upon, or be attempted against her, as
they will be answerable," &c. &c. &c.
The Magistrates, however, were more careful of their own in¬
dividual interest than the peace of their burgh, or the lives of
188
WITCHES.
their fellow-citizens; and seem to have held their clergyman in
higher veneration than the Commissioners of the Privy Council.
In the burgh records there is the following minute on this
occasion:
" Act anent the committee of the privy counsel, their tryalof the process anent
the witches."
TJndecimo May, 1705.
" The which daie the baillies and counsell, viz. William Borthwick, &c.
(thirteen present) being convened, the said baillie represented to the Counsell,
that on the ninth day of May instant, the Erie of Bellcarnes and Lord Anstru-
tlier, two of her Majesties most honourable privie Counsell, being commissioned
to meet here this day for takeing further triall of the murther of Janet Corn-
foot, who contest herself guilty of witchcraft, and anent the way of the touns
procedure against Beatrix Layng, and others, accused for that cryme, the said
Lords requyred that the Baillie and whole toune counsell shoftld engage in a
bond to protect the Beatrix Layng against any rabble that should assault her.
Which they unanimously refused to doe, in respect she may he murdered in
the night without their knowledge, and the ^rfifljltie of the bond being five
hundred merks they would be obliged to pay it. ,$he said baillie also informed
the Counsell, that these Lords of the Committee J^f the Counsell were to meet
here on Saturday nixt, and it was concluded, that the baillie and some of the
toune Counsell should attend them."
Janet Cornphat, or Cornfoot, who was murdered by the
rabble, was also one of those unhappy persons delated by this
Mortoun. There was another crime, however, imputed to this
woman of a not less extraordinary nature. Beatrix Layng, who
seems to have been Satan's chief minister in those parts, hap¬
pened to quarrel with one Alexander Macgregor, a fisherman,
about what we are not told—and forthwith the Devil in person,
with his Janet Cornfoot, and " several others in company," set
upon poor Macgregor in his bed, with tiffe felonious intent of
murdering him in his sleep. Macgregor, however, awaking in
good time, and wrestling manfully with his infernal majesty, was
glad to beat a retreat with his baffled troops. The truth of the
thing could not possibly be called in question, for it was confessed
by two of the hags who assisted on the occasion ;* and at least it
would appear by Cornfoot herself alone. This poor woman
of course retracted her confession to some gentlemen whom cu¬
riosity had induced to visit her in prison; but begged them, " for
* A just reproof to the false reports, &c. p. 7,
WITCHES.
189
Christ's not to tell them she had done so, else she would be mur¬
dered." * She was murdered nevertheless; and with circum¬
stances of such almost incredible barbarity, that we shall give
the account in the words of the writer to whom we have referred.
" It appears that this no less unhappy than innocent woman,
(Jane Cornphat, or Cornfoot, above mentioned) had contrived
by some means or other to escape from prison (stated to be by
the connivance of the minister who, after the attention that began
to be paid to her case by persons of rank and influence, seems to
have lost all hope of bringing her to the stake, and was, pro¬
bably, glad to get rid of her); she was, however, apprehended,
and sent back to Pittenween by another active clergyman in the
neighbourhood, in the custody of two men, who carried her as a
matter of course to the minister, in whose person the offices of
Priest and King appear to have been harmoniously combined
throughout all these proceedings. But the clergyman had no¬
thing to say to her; h^ was not concerned, he told the rabble,
and they might do wl^ they pleased with her.
" They took encouragement from this to fall upon the poor
woman, those of the minister's family going along with them,
as I hear ; they fell upon the poor creature immediately, and
beat her unmercifully, tying her so hard with a rope, that she
was almost strangled; they dragged her through the streets, and
along the shore by the heels. A baillie hearing of a rabble near
his stair, came^out upon them, which made them, immediately
disappear. But the Magistrates, though met together, not taking
care to put her into close custody for her safety, the rabble
gathered again immediately, and stretched a rope betwixt a ship
and the shore, to a great height, to which they tied her fast, after
which they swinged*her to and fro, from one side to another, in
the mean time throwing stones at her from all quarters, until
they were weary. Then they loosed her, and with a mighty
swing threw her upon the hard sands; all about being ready in
the mean time to receive her with stones and staves, with which
they beat her most cruelly. The daughter in the time of her
mother's agony, though she knew of it, durst not adventure to
appear, lest the rabble had used her after the same manner,
being in the house in great concern and terror, out of natural
* Account of an horrible and barbarous murder, in a letter from a gentleman
in Fife, to a friend in Edinburgh, Feb. 1765.
190
WITCHES.
affection for her mother. They laid a heavy door upon her, with
which they pressed her so sore, that she cried out to let her up
for Christ's sake, and she would tell the truth. But when they
did let her up, what she said could not satisfy them, and there¬
fore they again laid on the door, and with a heavy weight of
stones on it pressed her to death. And to be sure it was so,
they called a man with a horse and a sledge, and made him
drive over her corpse backward and forward several times. When
they were sure she was killed outright, they dragged her mise¬
rable carcase to Nicolas Lawson's house, where they first found
her.
" There was a motion made to treat Nicolas Lawson (another
witch) after the same manner immediately; but some of them
being wearied with three hours' sport, as they called it, said it
would be better to delay her for another day's divertisement;
and so they ajl went off.
" To the disgrace of the country, the rabble, who had been
so easily dispersed by the magistrates before, do not appear to
have experienced any interruption in this protracted murder,
which was perpetrated on the 30th of January, 1765, in one of
the most civilized counties of Scotland, and within a few hours
distance of the metropolis. But this was an enormity which it
was impossible for a well-regulated government to overlook.
The Privy Council had lent a deaf ear, as we have seen, to two
sets of commissioners from this priest-ridden junto, who do not
appear to have been supported either by the presbytery, or the
commission of the general assembly of the Kirk; but this very
plain hint was still not plain enough for their comprehension.
On the present occasion, it was necessary to operate upon their
perverted intellects, by a more definite expression of disappro¬
bation. Besides this, Mrs. White, a witch of the better order,
about this time commenced an action against these magistrates
for false imprisonment. These proofs of a remarkable im¬
provement in public opinion seem to have put an end to the
legal persecutions of old women in that quarter,—though, as
appears from the order made upon the petition of Beatrix
Layng in May thereafter, formerly referred to—not to the
belief in the existence in witches."
The following paper, of which the title does not exactly
correspond with its contents, is transcribed from the original
WITCHES.
191
records, and the proceedings of the Privy Council do not seem
to have been carried further. The report of the Committee
represents the murder as of a less atrocious character than the
account of it taken from the letter before quoted, though the
two are by no means inconsistent with each other.
" Approbation of the report of the Committee anent the murder at Pitten-
ween,
At Edinburgh, Feb. 15, 1705.
" The Lords of her Majesties Privy Counsell doe hereby covenant and ap-
poynt the Earls of Rothes and Haddingtown, Lords Yester, Advocat, and En-
struther, to be a Committee to enquyre into the murder committed upon awoman
in Pittenween, as suspect of witchcraft, and recommends to the said committee
to meet to-morrow at twelve o'clock, in the midd-day, and call forbaillie Couts,
in Pittenween, and know at him why he suffered the said murder to be com¬
mitted, and did not keep the public peace in the place, and appoynts the solici¬
tors to cite the rest of the magistrates to the said burgh of Pittenween, to ap¬
pear before the said Committee, and answer to what shall be laid to their charge,
for their not keeping the peace of the place, as said is, and declares any three
of the said Committee, a quorum and to report.
" Report of the Committee appoynted to inquyre after the murder committed
at Pittenween.
" At Edinburgh, sedurunt the Earle of Rothes, the Lord Yester, the Lord
Enstruther, and her Majesties Advocat. The baillies compearing, and having
given in a subsequent information of the matter of fact, with the double of the
precognition taken by them anent the murder of Janet Cornfoot, they find that
the said Janet was brought from the parish of Lewchars, by two men, to the
town of Pittenween, upon the thirtieth of January last, about six o'clock at
night; that the men brought her first to the minister, after she had stayed a
little in a private house in the town; and that the minister being for the time
at Baillie Cook's house, she was brought before Baillie Cook's door, but not
immediately secured as she ought to have been : That when the officer, Peter
Inues, after a little time, was found, and sent to secure her, the rabble was up,
and that they deforced the officer, and made made him flee; that the officer
went to the other two baillies and gott their verbal orders, but they concerned
themselves no further: That when Baillie Cook heard of the rabble, he came
out himself and dispersed them, and rescued the poor woman, but found her
almost halfe dead, lying within the sea-mark—that she being in that condition,
Baillie Cook did not order her to prison, but ordained the officer and four men
to take her to a private house : that they carried her to Nicolas Lawson's,
other houses being unwilling to receive her; that before Nicolas Lawson's
door she was again assaulted, cast down, and murdered. And that it appears
the principal actors were Robert Dalziell, a skipper's son, Walter Watson, in
Bruntesland, and one Groundwater, an Orkney-man; all three fled."
While these active magistrates displayed so much laudable
192
WITCIIES.
anxiety to expelthe great enemy of mankind, and his associates,
from their jurisdiction, it was not to be expected that they
should look with horror on the instruments by which their ob¬
ject was, in some degree, accomplished. The end was probably
thought holy enough to sanctify the means, however irregular.
It does not appear that a single individual was ever brought to
trial for the " three hour sport" of the rabble who murdered
Janet Cornfoot. Before the baillies made their appearance in
presence of the committee of the Privy Council, they had con¬
trived, indeed, to imprison some of the murderers; but accord¬
ing to the writer of the letter to a nobleman already quoted,
" they were not long from the town, when the minister set
them at liberty," as it is alleged, by virtue of an order from
these magistrates themselves.
The only men accused by Mortoun was one Thomas Brown,
who died in prison, "after a great deal of hunger and hardship;"
and his remains, as well as those of Janet Cornfoot, were denied
Christian burial.
Thus much is said of the Pittenween witches, not because
the evidence against them, if Mortoun's pretended fits could
deserve such a name, or the murder of two of them, are cir¬
cumstances in themselves remarkable. Hundreds were brought
to the stake in Scotland during the seventeenth century, on no
better grounds.* But what is worthy of particular notice in
their case, is the visible conflict between statute law, supported
by the obstinate credulity of the lower classes, on the one hand,
—and the dawn on a purer day which was then rising upon
our rulers, and had already begun to dispel the illusions of the
most detestable fanaticism, on the other. Yet melancholy it is
to reflect how long the night had lasted, and how deep had
been its darkness; nor is it less lamentable to perceive how inef¬
fectually the influence of true religion and of science is opposed
* See the ridiculous confessions of certain Scotch witches, taken out of an
authentic copy of their trial at the assizes, held at Paisley, Feb. 15, 167S,
touching the bewitching of Sir George Maxwell. — Also the confession of
Agnes Syinpson to King James—a confession which in all probability induced
that monarch to change his opinion relative to the existence of witches; which,
it was reported, he was inclined to think were mere conceits, as he was then hut
young (not above five or six-and-twenty years of age) when this examination
took place before him ; and part of the third chapter of his Demonologie appears
to be a transcript of this confession.
FAIRIES.
103
in our days, to the inveterate credulity of a large proportion of
our countrymen.*
FAIRIES.
The fiction of fairies is supposed to have been brought, with
other extravagancies of a like nature, from the eastern nations,
whilst the European christians were engaged in the holy war;
such, at least, is the notion of an ingenious writer, who thus
expresses himself: " Nor were the monstrous embellishments of
enchantments the invention of romancers, but formed upon
eastern tales, brought thence by travellers from their crusades
and pilgrimages, which, indeed, have given a cast peculiar to
the wild imagination of the eastern people." f That fairies, in
particular, came from the east, we are assured by that learned
orientalist, Mr. Herbelot, who tells us that the Persians called the
fairies Peri, and the Arabs Genii; that, according to the eastern
fiction, there is a certain country inhabited by fairies, called
Gennistian, which answers to our fairy-land ; and that the an¬
cient romances of Persia are full of Peri or fairies. Mr. Warton,
(vol. I. p. 64) in his observations on Spenser's Fairy Queen, is
decidedly of opinion that the fairies came from the east; but
he justly remarks that they were introduced into this country
long before the period of the crusades. The race of fairies, he
informs us, were established in Europe in very early times, but
" not universally." The fairies were confined to the north of
Europe—to the " ultima Thule"—to the British isles—to "the di-
visis orbe Britannis." They were unknown at this remote era
to the Gauls or the Germans, and they were, probably, familiar
to the vallies of Scotland and Danmonium, when Gaul and Ger-
* The vulgar, even in this most enlightened period, are not entirely exempt
from the belief in the powers of sorcery and magic, and other fantastical and
imaginary agonies, such as exorcisms, charms, and amulets. It is pleasing,
however, to contrast the former with present times, in which there is almost
an extinction of these delusions. It is only 19*2 years since great numbers
of persons were condemned to death, in the ordinary course of law, and
executed for witchcraft in England. And the like disgraceful proceedings have
occurred in Scotland of a more recent date. The like trials and convictions, and
executions, took place in New England, in the end of the 17th century.—See
Evelyn's Memoirs. Vol. XI. p. 35.—See alsoDemonologia, by J. S. Forsilh, 1827,
f Supplement to the Trans. Prof, to Jarvis's Don Quixote.
13
194
FAIRIES.
many were yet unpeopled either by real or imaginary beings.
The belief, indeed, of such invisible agents, assigned to different
parts of nature, prevails at this very day in Scotland, and in
Devonshire and Cornwall, regularly transmitted from the re¬
motest autiquity to the present time, and totally unconnected
with the spurious romance of the crusader or the pilgrim.
Ilence those superstitious notions now existing in our western
villages, where the spriggian* are still believed to delude be¬
nighted travellers, to discover hidden treasures, to influence the
weather, and to rule the winds. " This, then," says Warton,
" strengthens the hypothesis of the northern parts of Europe
being peopled by colonies from the east! "
The inhabitants of Shetland and the isles pour libations of
milk or beer through a holed stone, in honour of the spirit
Brownie, and it scarcely can admit of a doubt that the Dan-
monii were accustomed to sacrifice to the same spirit, since
the Cornish and the Devonians on the border of Cornwall,
invoke to this day the spirit Brownie, on the swarming of their
bees. With respect to rivers, it is a certain fact, that the pri¬
mitive Britons paid them divine honours; even now, in many
parts of Devonshire and Cornwall, the vulgar may be said to
worship brooks and wells, to which they resort at stated pe¬
riods, performing various ceremonies in honour of those conse¬
crated waters; and the Highlanders, to this day, talk with great
respect of the genius of the sea; never bath in a fountain, lest
the elegant spirit that resides in it should be offended, and re¬
move ; and mention not the water of rivers without prefixing to
it the name of excellent.-}- In one of the western islands, the
inhabitants retained the custom to the close of the last century,
of making an annual sacrifice to the Genius of the Ocean.
In the west of Europe, a host of other demons was brought
upon the stage, far more formidable, who had their origin in
Celtic, Teutonic, and even Eastern fables; and as their existence
as well as influence, was, not only by the early Christians, but
* "That the Druids worshipped rocks, stones, and fountains, and imagined
them inhabited, and actuated by divine intelligence of a lower rank, may be
plainly inferred from their stone monuments. These inferior deities, the Cor¬
nish call spriggian, or spirits, which answer to genii or fairies; and the vulgar
in Cornwall still discourse of these spriggian as of real beings, and pay them a
kind of veneration."—Borlasse, p. 163, 164.
f See Macpherson's Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Ireland.
FAIRIES.
195
even by the Reformers, boldly asserted, it was long before the
rites to which they have been accustomed, were totally eradi¬
cated. Thus in Orkney, for instance, it was customary, even
during the last century, for lovers to meet within the pale of a
large circle of huge stones, which had been dedicated to the
chief of the Scandinavian deities. Through a hole in one of
the pillars, the hands of the contracting parties were joined,
and the faith they plighted was named, the promise of Odin, to
violate which, was infamous. But the influence of the "dii ma-
jores" of the Edda was slight and transient, in comparison with
that of the duergan, or dwarfs, who figure away in the same my¬
thology, and whose origin is thus recited:—Odin and his bro¬
thers killed the giant Ymor, from whose wound ran so much
blood, that all the families of the earth were drowned, except
one who saved himself on board a bark. These gods then
made of the giant's bones, of his flesh and blood, the earth, the
waters, and the heavens. But, in the body of the monster, se¬
veral worms had, in the course of putrefaction, been engen¬
dered, which, by order of the gods, partook of both human
shape and reason. These little beings possessed the most deli¬
cate figures, and always dwelt in subterraneous caverns, or
clefts in the rocks. They were remarkable for their riches,
their activity, and their malevolence.* This is the origin of
our modern fairies, who, at the present day, are described as
people of a small stature, gaily dressed in habiliments of green.
They possess material shapes, with the means, however, of
making themselves invisible. They multiply their species; they
have a relish for the same kind of food that affords sustenance
to the human race, and when, on some festal occasion, they
would regale themselves with good beef or mutton; they em¬
ploy elf arrows to bring down their victim. At the same time
they delude the shepherds with the substitution of some vile
* Sir Walter Scott has supposed that this mythological account of the duer¬
gan bears a remote allusion to real history, having an ultimate reference to the
oppressed Fins, who, before the arrival of the invaders, under the conduct of
Odin, were the prior possessors of Scandinavia. The followers of this hero
saw a people, who knew how to work upon the minds of the people better than
they did; and, therefore, from a superstitious regard, transformed them into
spirits of an unfavourable character, dwelling in the interior of rocks., and sur¬
rounded with immense riches. See Border Minstrelsy, vol. TI, p. 179.
13*
19G
FAIRIES.
substance, or illusory image, possessing the same form as that
of the animal they had taken away. These spirits are much
addicted to music; and when they make their excursions, a most
exquisite band of music never fails to accompany them in their
course. They are addicted to the abstraction of the human
species, in whose place they leave substitutes for living beings,
named changelings, the unearthly origin of whom is known by
their mental imbecility, or some wasting disease. When a
limb is touched with paralysis, a suspicion often arises that it has
been touched by these spirits, or that, instead of the sound member,
an insensible mass of matter has been substituted in its place.
In England, the opinions originally entertained, relative to the
duergan or dwarfs, have sustained considerable modifications,
from the same attributes being assigned to them as the Persian
peris, an imaginary race of intelligences, whose offices of be¬
nevolence were opposed to the spiteful interference of evil spirits.
Whence this confusion in proper Teutonic mythology has ori¬
ginated, is doubtful; conjectures have been advanced, that it may
be traced to the intercourse the Crusaders had with the Saracens,
and that, as before observed, was imported the corrupted name
derived from the peris, of fairies; for under such a title the
duergan of the Edda are now generally recognised,—the male¬
volent character of the dwarf being thus sunk in the opposite
qualities of the peris, or fairies. Blessing became, in England,
proverbial: " Grant that the sweet fairies may nightly put 011
your shoes, and sweep your house clean." In more general
terms, the wish denoted, " peace be to the house." *
Fairies, for many centuries, have been the objects of spectral
impressions. In the case of a poor woman of Scotland, Alison
Pearson, who suffered for witchcraft, in the year 1586, they
probably resulted from some plethoric state of the system, which
was followed by paralysis. Yet, for this illusive image, to which
the popular superstition of the times had given rise, the poor
creature was indicted for holding communication with demons,
under which light fairies were then considered, and burnt at a
stake. During her illness, she was not unfrequently impressed
* In Germany, probably for similar reasons, the dwarfs have acquired the
name of elves,—a word, observes Mr. Douce, derived from the Teutonic helfin,
which etymologists have translated juvare. See Demonologia, p. 329.
FAIRIES.
197
with sleeping and waking visions, in which she held an inter¬
course with the queen of the Elf-land, and the " good neighbours."
Occasionally, these capricious spirits would condescend to afford
her bodily relief; at other times, they would add to the severity of
her pains. In such trances or dreams, she would observe her
cousin, Mr. William Sympsoune, of Sterling, who had been
conveyed away to the hills by the fairies, from whom she re¬
ceived a salve that would cure every disease, of which the
Archbishop of St. Andrew's deigned himself to reap the benefit.
It is said, in the indictment against her, that " being in Grange
Muir with some other folke, she, being sick, lay downe; and
when alone, there came a man to her, clad in green, who said to
her, if she would be faithful, he would do her good; but she
being feared, cried out, but nae bodie came to her, so she said
if he came in God's name, and for the gude of her soul, it was
all well; but he gaed away. He appeared another time, like a
lustie man, and manie men and women with him; at seeing him,
she signed herself, and prayed, and passed with them, and saw
them making merrie with pypes, and good cheer, and wine ; she
was carried with them, and when she telled any of these things,
she was sairlie tormented by them; and the first time she gaed
with them, she gat a sair stracke frae one of them, which took
all the poustie (power) of her side frae her, and left an ill-far'd
mark on her side.
" She saw the gude neighbours make their saas (salves) with
panns and fyres, and they gathered the herbs before the sun
was up, and they cam verie fearful sometimes to her, and flaire
(scared) her verie sair, which made her cry, and threatened they
would use her worse than before ; and at last they tuck away
the power of her haile syde frae her, and made her lye manie
weeks. Sometimes they would come and sit by her, and pro¬
mise that she should never want if she would be faithful; but if
she would speak and tell of them, they would murder her. Mr.
William Sympsoune is with them who healed her, and telt her
all things; he is a young man, not six years older than herself,
and he will appear to her before the court comes ; he told her
he was taken away by them, and he bid her sign herself that
she be not taken away."
Another apparition of this kind may be seen in the pamphlet
which was published in 1696, under the patronage of Dr.
108
FAIRIES.
Fowler, Bishop of Gloucester, relative to Ann Jeffries, "who
was fed for six months by a small sort of airy people, called
fairies." There is every reason to suppose, that this female
•vvas either effected with hysterics, or with that highly excited
state of nervous irritation, which gives rise to ecstatic illusions.
The narrative of this girl, which is not worth reciting, was, ne¬
vertheless, highly interesting at the time to her superstitious
neighbours, and she was induced to relate far more wonderful
Stories, upon which not the least dependence can be placed, as
the sympathy she excited, eventually induced her to become a
rank impostor.
In his Illustrations of Shakspeare, Mr. Douce has shown
that the Samogitse, a people formerly inhabiting the shores of
the Baltic, who remained idolatrous so late as the fifteenth cen¬
tury, had a deity named Pulseet, whom they invoked to live
with them, by placing in the barn every night, a table covered
with bread, butter, cheese and ale. If these were taken away,
good fortune was to be expected; but if they were left, nothing
but bad luck. This spirit is the same as the Goblin Groom,
Puck, or Robin Good-fellow, of the English, whose face and
hands were either of a russet or green colour, who was attired
in a suit of leather, and armed with a flail. For a much smaller
fee than was originally given him, he would assist in threshing,
churning, grinding malt or mustard, and sweeping the house at
midnight. " He would chafe exceedingly," says Scot, "if the
maid or good wife of the house, having compassion on his na¬
kedness, laid any clothes for him besides his messe of white
bread and milk, which was his standing fee. For in that case
he saith, what have we here ? Hempten, Hempten, here will
I never more tread nor stampen." A similar tall lubber fiend,
habited in a brown garb, was known in Scotland. Upon the
condition of a little wort being laid for him, or the occasional
sprinkling, upon a sacrificial stone, of a small quantity of milk,
he would ensure the success of many domestic operations.
According to Qlaus Magnus, the northern nations regarded
domestic spirits of this description, as the souls of men who had
given themselves up, during life, to illicit pleasures, and were
doomed, as a punishment, to wander upon the earth, for a
certain time, in the peculiar shape which they assumed, and to
be bound to mortals in a sort of servitude. It is natural, there-
FAIRIES.
fore, to expect, that these familiar spirits would be the subjects
of many apparitions, of which a few relations are given in
Martin's account of the Second Sight in Scotland. " A spirit,''
says this writer, " called Brownie, was frequently seen in all the
most considerable families in the isles of the north of Scotland,
in the shape of a tall man, but within these twenty or thirty
years, he is seen but rarely." Suffice it to observe, as regards
this subject, that in the course of a few centuries, the realms of
superstition were increased to almost an immeasureable extent;
the consequence was, that the air, the rocks, the seas, the
rivers, nay, every lake, pool, brook or spring, were so filled
with spirits, both good and evil, that in each province, in the
words of the Roman satirist, " Nosiba regio tarn plena est nu-
minibus, ut facilius possis deum quam hominem invenire."
Hence the modification which took place of systems of demo-
nology, so as to admit of the classification of all description of
devils, whether Teutonic, Celtic, or Eastern.
The popular belief in the existence of fairies still remains
almost unimpaired in some of the more remote parts of the
Borders of Scotland and England ; though it is generally allowed
that they are now very seldom seen in the southern parts of
the island. The opinion current among the peasantry is, that,
after the land had been purged from popish superstitions and
prelatic corruptions, the "gude neighbours," as they were usually
called, found it expedient likewise to retreat to the Highlands
and other "sick like" unenlightened and uncivilized regions.
A similar cause is assigned for their disappearance by Cleland,
the Cameronian poet, who, as might be expected, speaks of
them somewhat rigidly, though, at the same time, evidently with
a degree of hankering partiality, not unlike that with which the
pious mountaineers of the present day still regard these old
" neighbours," in spite of all the clerical fulminations which
have been so frequently launched against them. Cleland, al¬
luding to the classical attributes of certain Border streams,
whose poetical "vertu" he, with some justice, ascribes chiefly
to the haunting of these aerial visions, says :
" For there, and several other places,
About mill-dams and green brae laces,
Both Elrich elfs, and Brownies stayed,
And green-gown'd fairies danced and played .
200
FAIRIES.
When old John Knox and other some
Began to plott the baggs of Rome,
They suddenly took to their heels,
And did no more frequent these fields :
But if Rome's pipes perhaps they hear,
Sure for their interest they'll compear
Again, and play their old hell's tricks," &c.
Yet, though thus proscribed and exiled from our Scottish Ar¬
cadia, the fairy folk are still supposed to pay, now and then, a
passing visit to their old haunts, and to keep up a sort of shy
correspondence with a few favourable individuals. "A most
worthy old woman of our acquaintance," says our informant,
" who for the greater part of a century resided in a spot very well
known to me, has long held much familiar and kindly inter¬
course with them. Indeed, their intercourse with old Nanzy
could scarcely be otherwise than of a kindly description, for she
possessed such an inexhaustible fund of good nature, and more¬
over entertained such a true respect for them, that the 'Brown
Man of the Moors' himself, the most malignant sprite of the
elfin kind, could scarcely have had the heart to do her an in¬
jury. Nanzy has frequently met with fairy processions when she
chanced to be late or early out of doors, and has more than
once received presents from her aerial neighbours ; among
other things, very nice rolls of fairy butter have occasionally
been laid down before her on the grass when she had occasion
to go to market. But she was too good a Christian, and too
well aware of the insidious nature of such gifts, to use this in
" ony meltith," though she applied it without hesitation to other
household purposes.
The place where Nanzy resided was an old ruinous hamlet,
containing only five habitable cottages, all of which were te¬
nanted by old unmarried women, except one that was occupied
by an aged weaver and his wife. It stood at the bottom of a
black heathy hill, was dreary and desolate in appearance, and
remote from even the cross roads of the country ; and was very
well known to be haunted, as were also several places in
its immediate vicinity. At a little distance down the valley lay
a marshy recess, traversed by a moorland stream, called the
Laike, which, from time immemorial, had been haunted by the
unhappy ghost of an unchristened infant, which a cruel mother
was said to have murdered there at some former period. Many
FAIRIES.
201
persons have heard this wailing: though many have imagined
they heard the unearthy yell, nobody was ever known to have
seen it, except old Nanzy. " She gat a sight o't ae morning,"
she said, "just afore the skriegh o' day, as she was gaun through
the Laike, on her way to the merket. Hearing its eirie erlish
maene, she lookit up the water, and just gat a glim o't as it was
hovan away like i' the mist, wi its bit wee waesome hands
streekit out, and its elfish body swathed like a corpse in the
dead deeding."
Still nearer the old hamlet, at about the distance of half a
Scotch mile, stood an old farm-house, which, about sixty or
seventy years ago, is said to have been visited by a bogle much
more uncommon, as well as familiar, than the " Greetin Bairn
o' the Laike." This being was neither fairy, ghost, nor Brownie,
but appears to have partaken somewhat of the attributes of the
whole three. Often have we, in our boyhood, listened with
intense and fearful interest to the strange and mysterious tales
related of this "elrich incubus;" but the purport of these was
altogether so undefined and shadowy, that they cannot now be
detailed with any degree of accuracy or distinctness. It was
generally said, however, that this creature took on the appear¬
ance of an ancient man, wild, withered, dwarfish and deformed;
that it played a number of malicious tricks to such as gave
offence to it; that it never, on any occasion, was known to speak;
but at length, one winter evening, it came and took a seat among
the family, who were sitting round the kitchen fire; when a
servant girl, who was churning, having offered it a bowl of
cream, it thought fit to fly up the chimney, and was never since
seen or heard of. When we met with the account of Gilpin
Horner, for the first time in the notes of the "Lay of the Last
Minstrel," we were forcibly struck with the resemblance of that
elfish sprite to this anomalous ghaist, and have ever since
believed that the "Bogle of Blacklaw Myres" could be none
other than the redoubted Gilpin himself, or one of his near
relatives.
Though the inhabitants of the old hamlet never made any
objection to these and other bogles who frequented their neigh¬
bourhood, nor even seemed to be anyway adverse to a peaceable
intercourse with them, they by no means exhibited the same
degree of forbearance in regard to witches. They were once
FAIRIES.
put to a sore trial on this point: one of the ancient female inha¬
bitants having died, the landlord let the cottage she had occupied
to two old single women who lived together. These poor
creatures had the misfortune to be strongly suspected in the
neighbourhood of using the black art; which probably arose
from the circumstance of one of them being very crabbed in
her temper, and the other very crazed in her head. They ruled
the new neighbours for a season most despotically, for none
dared to quarrel with them; till at length the old weaver plucked
up courage, held a council of the other cronies, and forthwith
went to the landlord, and declared, in their name and his own,
that unless the witches were put away next term, or else " scored
aboon the breath, " * all the other cotters would leave the place.
It was in vain to reason on the subject, and the unhappy beldames
were obliged to flit. This occurred only about twenty years
ago; and one of these supposed witches (the crazy one) rather
encouraged the belief of her magical endowments. She was
generally known by the name of Whistling Ann.
The Flora wood, between Traquair -f and Selkir k, is distin¬
guished for a remarkable feat of the fairies, who are said to
have carried off from this place a little girl, and after keeping
her a considerable time, and showing her all the wonders of the
fairy-land, left her asleep, as the story goes, upon the same spot
* To draw blood above tlie breath of a reputed witch, is to render all her
spells impotent.
f The Bush aboon Traquair, or rather what is called the new bush, is no¬
thing else than an ugly square clump of Scotch firs, planted on the side of a
bleak hill, at a distance from every thing in the landscape that is pleasing or-
poetical. The rest of the scenery, however, abundantly compensates for this
piece of bad taste. The situation and appearance of the old mansion of Tra¬
quair is beautiful and interesting in the highest degree. What is here most
striking is the wonderful resemblance, in the whole aspect of the gate-way,
avenue, and house itself, to the semi-gothic bear-guarded mansion of Tully-
Veolan, as described by the author of Waverley. It is true, indeed, that, in
place of the multitudinous representations of the bear, so profusely scattered
around the environs of Bradwardine, we have here only the single pair which
adorn the gate at the entrance of the avenue, and that the avenue itself cannot
pretend to match the broad continuous shade through which Waverley ap¬
proached the castle of the hospitable and redoubted baron ; and also that se¬
veral other important features are wanting to complete the resemblance ; yet if
one be not altogether imposed upon by one's fancy, there is a likeness suit!-
ciently strong to support the idea, that this scene formed the original study of
the most finished and bold-featured fiction of the celebrated novelist.—(Ed
May.) See Waverley, note, p. 134.
BROWNIES.
•2 03
from whence they had stolen her away. Upon this legend,
Mr. Hogg is understood to have founded his very beautiful and
enchanting tale of Kilmeny.
The Pastoral Braes of Plora would appear to have been pe¬
culiarly favoured by these and other beneficent genii. The
following story was related by a lady of very superior intelli¬
gence, who was long resident in that neighbourhood, and re¬
members hearing the matter talked of, as a very recent and
well-authenticated occurrence. A family who resided on the
banks of the Plora were assembled one evening at family wor¬
ship, and the old goodman had just concluded his pious duty,
when the youngest girl, a child who had been absent unnoticed,
rushed breathless into the room, and, in a perfect rapture of
delight, called upon them " to come a' and look! for the maist
beautifu' leddie o' a' the world was coming sailing doun the
glen 1"—Such was the eagerness and even ecstasy of the child,
that the call was instantly obeyed, and old and young followed
her straight out of doors to see this delightful vision. They
looked up the glen, as she pointed, but in vain : nothing un¬
usual could be seen or heard, till a sudden and dreadful crash
behind them made every one look instantly round, and ex¬
plained at once the benevolent mission of this lovely lady of the
wood ; the house which had just been emptied of all its inmates,
had fallen flat on the ground.
The Brownies formed a class of beings distinct in habit and
disposition from the freakish and mischievous elves. They were
meagre, shaggy, and wild in their appearance. Cleland, in his
satire against the Highlanders, compares them to
" Fawnies, or Brownies, if ye will,
Or Satyrs come from Atlas hill."
In the day-time, the Brownies lurked in remote recesses of
the old houses which they delighted to haunt; and in the night,
sedulously employed themselves in discharging any laborious
task which they thought might be acceptable to the family, to
whose service they had devoted themselves. But although, like
Milton's lubber fiend, they love to stretch themselves by the
lire, they do not drudge from the hope of recompense. On the
contrary, so delicate is their attachment, that the offer of reward.
204
BROWNIES.
but particularly of food, infallibly occasions their disappearance
for ever.
The last Brownie known in Etterick forest, resided at Bods-
beck, a wild and solitary spot, where he exercised his functions
undisturbed, till the scrupulous devotion of an old lady induced
her to hire him away, as it was termed, by placing in his hands
a porringer of milk and a piece of money. After receiving the
hint to depart, he was heard the whole night to howl and cry,
"Farewell to Bonnie Bodsbeck!" which he was compelled to
abandon for ever.—When the menials of a Scottish family
protracted their vigils around the kitchen fire, Brownie, weary
of being excluded from the midnight hearth, sometimes ap¬
peared at the door, seemed to watch their departure, and thus
admonish them : " Gang a' to your beds, sirs, and dinna put out
the wie grieshoch (embers)"—It seems no improbable conjec¬
ture, that the Brownies are legitimate descendants of the "Lares
familiares " of the ancients.
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
Many of the casts and qualities of human character have been
so frequently described, and are so obviously subject to every com¬
mon observation, that they can no longer have the power to in¬
terest in a drama, an epic poem, a novel, or even in the faithful
narrative of true history. Thus, after Homer, Virgil, Tasso, and
Milton, it is no longer easily possible to confer interesting pecu¬
liarity on the character of a hero w ithout violating its natural pro¬
priety ; and hence comes it that the heroes in our modern epic
poems so slightly command our sympathy or fond enthusiastic ad¬
miration. Indeed, it would be folly to suppose that there can be
any person of native genius which, without culture, observation,
and experience, can in any department of writing produce those
speciosa miracula which alone have pow er to astonish, or in¬
terest to charm. In the whole furniture of our circulating
libraries, we have not a single novel written by a raw unexpe¬
rienced youth of either sex that exhibits any happy and vigorous
delineations of character. What a deep insight into human
nature must there not have been necessary to enable Cervantes
to imagine and develope a character so natural yet so inimitably
singular as that of Don Quixote? How much must Le Sage
have read and observed, to be able to paint so many faithful,
yet happy, touches as the characters in his novel of Gil Bias ?
How careful must Fielding have observed, at least the super¬
ficies of both vulgar and fashionable life, before he could be
qualified to present those genuine displays of the humour of
English manners which are diffused throughout his novels ?
Smollett looked deep into the human mind, and often, as it
should seem, with a malignant suspicious inspection, before he
drew the characters of Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle,
and Humphrey Clinker. How much of real knowledge, the
result of keen observation and of deep thought, appears in the
206
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
single character of Zeluco, by Dr. Moore ? Of all our modern
novelists, Charlotte Smith is one whose writings afford the
most faithful, the happiest, and the most various pictures of
character. Her experience, her affections, and the fluctuating
course of her life, have evidently contributed not less than the
nature, strength, and vivacity of her genius, to enable her to
make her works, to a degree so remarkable, a great exhibition
of the varieties in human nature, and of genuine English life.
We would not here be understood, let it be observed, that
mere reading and experience in the world will endow any
person with the power of happily inventing characters for a
novel:—there must be something more. The novelist is not
io copy his characters from real life and books, with the servi¬
lity of a plagiarist: he is to take thence only the elements—the
composition of these elements into one substance, and the mould¬
ing of that into new forms, must be the work of his own genius.
The novelist, of all the writers who address themselves to the
heart, appears to have a superior sway over the attention of his
reader; or perhaps it were better to say that there is no species
of writing for which the generality of readers show such a
rooted predilection, as for romance. We are fond of examining
a moral painting. We are curious to mark the modifications,
the diversities, and shades of human nature. This passion is
universal: and wherever a character is faithfully delineated, it
is instantly observed and appreciated by all ranks of people.
ISTow there are points of view without number from which inte¬
resting sketches of human character can be taken : and wher¬
ever there is a moral painter who, to a quick conception, and a
playful fancy, joins acuteness of observation, we take it to be
almost impossible that, until he ceases to write, he should ever
cease to please. The very uncommon, and very deserved suc¬
cess of the romances which have been supplied us from the
pen of the distinguished author of Waverley, shows that there
is something more than speculation or hypothesis in this remark;
and we will add, that the curiosity already alluded to, to survey
the different aspects and phases of character, is, together with
the great merit of these publications, a very good ground on
which to argue, that they shall retain in after times the popu¬
larity which they have acquired in our own.
The author of Waverley has contributed a vast stock to the
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
20?
fund of imaginative felicity; he has evinced a consummate know¬
ledge of nature and the workings of the human mind, in many
of his vigorous and, perhaps, unrivalled delineations of charac¬
ter; the creations of his fancy are pregnant with enjoyment
He has exhibited such a rare combination of mingled qualities,
good and evil, as even tend to throw a charm on vice itself.
However difficult it may be to preserve the truth of nature, our
author, however, has fallen into the best side of the general
error of his predecessors—he has made his readers in love only
with vice, on account of the splendid talents and virtues with
which it appears inseparably allied.
We must dissent altogether from Sir Walter's opinion, that
" the worst evil to be apprehended from the perusal of novels
is, that the habit is apt to generate an indisposition to useful
literature and real history."
The person who devours the Memoirs of a Cavalie-r, and
allows his Clarendon to sleep on a dusty shelf, would have
treated the Lord Chancellor, we shrewdly suspect, with equal
disrespect, although Defoe's delightful novel had never existed;
and many, on the other hand, who, if that had never existed,
would never have troubled Clarendon, have their curiosity
stimulated by the charm of the fiction, and are compelled to
gratify it by having recourse to the history. We have had
abundant evidence of this tendency in our own times. The
author of Waverley's historical romances has, with hardly one
exception, been immediately followed by republications of the
comparatively forgotten authors from whom he had drawn the
historical part of his materials. A new edition of Philip de
Comines was sold rapidly during the first popularity of Quentin
Durward. A variety of contemporaneous tracts concerning the
Scotch religious and civil wars have in like manner been re¬
called from oblivion in consequence of Waverley and Old
Mortality—and some valuable MS. memoirs even have been
sent to the press solely under the influence of the curiosity
which these and other novels of the same author had excited.
It is certain there are more readers of novels now than in any
former time; but we suspect the readers of almost all other
kinds of books are increased in at least as large a propor¬
tion. The elder established classics of our litterature, histo¬
rians among the rest, are eternally republished : the chief of
208
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
them are obliged to be stereotyped in order to meet the con¬
stantly growing demand. Indeed, it is a most remarkable fact,
that no former period, eminently distinguished for the production
of works of imagination, was at all to be compared with the pre¬
sent, for the encouragement and favour bestowed on depart¬
ments of intellectual exertion, apparently the most remote from
that to which these belong. The public that is so voracious of
novels, is the same public that gives ear so willingly to the ex¬
pounders of many branches of science, from which our ancestors
would unquestionably have turned away as utterly dry and
uninteresting. The novel-readers, who remain in our time ex¬
clusively novel-readers, would, we take leave to think, have
been, in the immense majority of cases, readers of exactly
nothing at all, had they lived a hundred years ago.
In Waverley, the characters of the brave and devoted ' Vich
lan Yhor,' the eccentric and kind-hearted Baron Bradwardine,
with his bears and boot-jacks,—the poor idiot David Gellatley,
with his leal cunning; the two dogs, Ban and Busker, with the
glorious and soul-inspiring loyalty and self-devotion of Flora
M'lvor, are master touches and dear to our recollection. Then
Dominie Sampson, with his learning and his simplicity—poor
Meg Merrilies, with her supernatural energies, and her simply
natural feelings (we could almost cry now at the remembrance
of the exquisite pathos with which she laments the loss of her
humble cottage),—Dirk Hatterick, with his stern, and Gilbert
Glossin, with his sly, villanies; Paul Pleydell, that prince of ad¬
vocates ; and Dandie Dinmont, that prince of honest hearts and
iron frames—the living images of Guy Mannering : and our
good friend Monkbarns, with his veneration for the press, sanc¬
tifying in our eyes, all his whims in praetoriums, old coins, and
old ladles—the fisherman at the funeral, old Edie Ochiltree full
of good humoured craftiness,—the high-spirited young High¬
lander and the seal, together with the aristocratic Baronet, and
his charlatan Dunsterswivel, in the Antiquary.
Then, in our opinion, the chief production of all, Old Mor¬
tality, abounding with incident and delineation—the period of
the Covenant, when Scotland would not tamely endure a corrupt
kirk, and an arbitrary king—Balfour of Burley, with his fear¬
lessness and desperate fanaticism ; the maniac Mucklewrath,
the sonorous Kettledrumle, the gallant but bloody Claverhouse :
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
*209
the crafty clown Cuddie, and his crafty helpmate,—the old
Lady Bellenden, with the eternal dejeuner—the unfortunate
Calf Gibbie, Cuddie's mother, with her love for the cause, sadly
battling in her mind with the fears of her son; and the finest
character of all, the young preacher Macbriar, dying in a con¬
sumption, yet still animated with divine energy in the cause of
his God,—here, however, we must stop, or we shall fill this
chapter with a mere catalogue of portraits painted with all the
freshness of Teniers, all the richness of Rubens, all the colour¬
ing of Titian, and all the splendour, power, and boldness of
Raphael.
However mighty and teeming the imagination, there is
a point beyond which it cannot soar, and the distinguished
author who, with confidence and intrepidity, for a course of
years, not only courted, but commanded the approbation of the
public, and kept, as it were, caprice stationary—he who re¬
gularly spread before us an annual banquet, without any lack
of relish, or exhaustion of means, procured, for every succes¬
sive performance, an additional measure of praise; and after
having given the most unequivocal proofs that can be required
of extraordinary genius, began at length to discover symptoms
of an over-wrought and exhausted mind worn out by its own
incessant liberality.
There is a time when, in the selection of characters fitted to
command the sympathetic curiosity of the greatest number of
those who are likely to be readers of similar productions, the
mind must become exhausted, original characters cannot always
be invented. "All that's bright must fade," and the brightness
of our Aurora Borealis began to diminish, more or less, with
many an intervening corruscation, with the Monastery and the
Abbot. The Redgauntlet is rather a prosing tale; the Bride of
Lammermuir and the Legend of Montrose contain more inci¬
dents in one volume and a half, than it does in three. There is
moreover no description—the salmon-striking scene is nothing
compared to a similar one in Guy Mannering. Allan Fairford
and his father are a thousand degrees beneath Paul Pleydell.
Old Trumbell is an unnatural and improbable hypocrite, and
not half so well drawn as Gilbert Glossin. Redgauntlet, as a
political enthusiast, comes far short either of Claverhouse on the
one side, or Balfour on the other. Foxley, the justice, is a cy-
14
210
WAVERLEY.
pher compared with Justice Ingleby in Rob Roy, as his clerk is
to Jobson in the novel; and wandering Willie must hide his
diminished head before Edie Ochiltree. The letters in the first
volume are somewhat tedious and wire-drawn. The narrative
in the other two is disconnected and made up in the way of
common novel writers—leaving off just when the interest is ex¬
cited, to begin another long story. These are the main faults in
the work, and which, but for the many redeeming characters
of the author, were in our opinion sufficient to damn it. There
are, however, beauties—flights which could only proceed from
the bow of the northern Ulysses. The character and tale of
Nanty Ewart, the smuggler, are admirable and original;—a
smuggler now and a pirate formerly: not the villanies of his
present profession, nor the horrid barbarities of his late one—
nor continued intoxication, nor habitual blasphemy, can efface
from his conscience one ever-gnawing feeling, arising from the
seduction of a young female, who, her chastity gone, lost her re¬
maining virtues, became a thief, and was sent to the plantations
—her poor mother turned out of doors and dying in a workhouse.
Though there were no aggravating circumstances in the seduc¬
tion—yet, still her former innocence, and her present fate, her
mother's happiness and her mother's end, were ever before the
eyes of the drunken and blaspheming smuggler and pirate—he
was dying with the worm within, and the cankerings of his heart
are well delineated.
WAVERLEY.
There is no small portion of poetical power, of ideal creation,
in Waverley. Whatever there is of acquired knowledge, and
there is a great deal, is reproduced in another form, differently
organized for a peculiar purpose, as (to revert to a former
illustration) the tree reproduces the dew and the shower in
spontaneous foliage and blossom. And freely as the tree ex¬
pands her branches, and multiplies her leaves, has the author
of Waverley continued to produce with a fertility apparently
inexhaustible.—But let no one vainly imagine that, whatever
his genius may be, he can, without long preparation and pro-
WAVERLEY.
'211
found study, produce works like these. The mind must be
nourished and enriched with the appropriate aliment, and dis¬
ciplined by patient exercise and practice, before it can possibly
attain to the tenth part of an hair of excellence like his—still
less can a writer of little genius hope to succeed as his rival or
imitator. There are writers of some talent, though not very
elevated either in kind or degree, who seem to think that to
imitate the construction of his fable, to collect some scraps of
antiquarian lore, and to introduce old names at intervals, is to
write a novel in the style of Waverley. It is an error, and a
fatal one.
Waverley is produced from the outpourings of the writer's
mind. " From the fulness of his heart his mouth speaketh."
The familiar and romantic, the gay and the grave, are blended
and harmonized with peculiar grace and vigour. He seems
impatient for opportunity to sparkle—to bewitty—to relieve
his teeming fancy of its inventions, and his understanding
of its stores of fiction and story, accumulated for the mat¬
ter and embellishment of his narrative. The Spirit of Poetry
is breathing all about, and glancing upon it, in the happiest
light and the most amiable aspects. There is an instance of
prodigality, arising from a confidence in superabundant re¬
sources, in Mrs. Rachael's tale of " Poor William," and of Lucy
St. Aubin, who lived and died a maid for his sake, and who
" when she found herself sinking, desired to be brought to Wa¬
verley Honour once more, and visited all the places where she
had been with my grand uncle, and caused the carpets to be
raised, that she might trace the impression of his blood; and if-
tears could have washed it out, it had not been there now, for
there was not a dry eye in the house!" Then follows a line ef¬
fusion of poetry and feeling:—" You would have thought,
Edward, that the very trees mourned for her, for their leaves
dropped around her without a gust of wind; and indeed she
looked like one that would never see them green again." The
writer who could afford this expense of feeling and fancy upon
such an occasion, must have felt satisfied of the sufficiency of
his resources;—and that he did not vainly presume on their
extent, what he was able to do in the subsequent portions of that
work, and in those that immediately succeeded, abundantly
testified.
14*
212
WAVERLEY.
Bradwardine.—Of the genus of Bradwardine, Colonel Stew¬
art gives the following account:*—
" The armies of Sweden, Holland, and France gave employ¬
ment to the younger sons of the Highland gentry, who were edu¬
cated abroad in the seminaries of Leyden and Douay. Many of
these returned with a competent knowledge of modern languages
added to their classical education—often speaking Latin with
more purity than Scotch, which, in many cases, they only learned
after leaving their native homes. The race of Bradwardine is not
long extinct. In my own time, several veterans might have sat
for the picture of that most honourable, brave, learned, and kind-
hearted personage. These gentlemen returned from the Conti¬
nent full of warlike Latin, French phrases, and inveterate broad
Scotch. One of the last of these, Colonel Alexander Robertson,
of the Scotch Brigade, uncle of the present" (now late) " Stro-
wan, I well remember.
" Another of the Bradwardine character is still remembered
by the Highlanders with a degree of admiration bordering on en¬
thusiasm. This was John Stewart, of the family of Kincardine,
in Strathspey, known to the country by the name of John Roy
Stewart, an accomplished gentleman, an elegant scholar, a good
poet, and a brave officer. He composed with equal facility in
English, Latin, and Gaelic: but it was chiefly by his songs, epi¬
grams, and descriptive pieces, that he attracted the admiration
of his countrymen. He was an active leader in the rebellion of
1745, and during his ' hiding' of many months, he had more
leisure to indulge his taste for poetry and song. The country
traditions are full of his descriptive pieces, eulogies, and laments
on friends, or in allusion to the events of that unfortunate period.
He had been long in the service of France and Portugal, and had
risen to the rank of colonel. He was in Scotland in 1745, and
commanded a regiment, composed of the tenants of his family
and a considerable number of the followers of Sir George Stew¬
art of Grandtully, who had been placed under him. With these,
amounting in all to 400 men, he joined the rebel army, and
proved one of its ablest partizans."
Diligent research, however, has enabled us to point out a
* Sketches, vol. II. Notes.
BRADWARDINE.
213
much nearer original.—The person who held the situation in
the rebel army, which in the novel has been assigned to the
Baron, namely, the command of their few cavalry, was Alexan¬
der, fourth Lord Forbes ofPitsligo. This nobleman, who pos¬
sessed but a moderate fortune, was so much esteemed for his ex¬
cellent qualities of temper and understanding, that when, after the
battle of Prestonpans, he declared his purpose of joining Prince
Charles, most of the gentlemen in that part of the country put
themselves under his command, thinking they could not follow a
better or safer example than the conduct of Lord Pitsligo. He
thus commanded a body of 150 well mounted gentlemen in the
subsequent scenes of the rebellion, at the fatal close of which
he escaped to France, and was attainted, in the following month,
by the title of Lord Pitsligo, his estate and honours being of
course forfeited to the crown. After this he claimed the estate
before the Court of Session, on account of the misnomer, his title
being properly Lord Forbes ofPitsligo; and that Court gave judg¬
ment in his favour, 16th November, 1749; but, on an appeal,
it was reversed by the House of Lords, 1750.
Like Bradwardine, Lord Pitsligo had been out in 1715 also—
though it does not appear that much notice was then taken of
his defection. His opposition to the whiggery of modern times
had been equally constant, and of long standing; for he was one
of those stanch and honourable though mistaken patriots of the
last Scottish Parliment, who had opposed the Union.
He could also boast of a smattering of the belles lettres; and
probably plumed himself upon his literary attainments as much as
the grim old pedant, his counterpart. In 1734, he published
" Essays, Moral and Philosophical;" and something of the same
sort appeared in 1761, when he seems to have been in the near
prospect of a conclusion to his earthly trials. He died at Auchi-
ries, in Aberdeenshire, December 21, 1762, at an avanced age,
after having possessed his title, counting from his accession in
1691, during a period of seventy-one years.
It is not unworthy of remark, that the supporters of Lord Pit-
sligo's arms were two bears proper; which circumstance, con¬
nected with the great favour in which these animals were held by-
Bradwardine, brings the relation between the real and the ficti¬
tious personages very close.
214
WAYERLEY.
Davie Gellatley.—It appears that licensed fools were custo¬
mary appendages of the Scottish Court at a very early period; and
the time is not long gone by, when such beings were retained at
(he table and in the halls of various respectable noblemen. The
absence of more refined amusements made them become as neces¬
sary a part of a baronial establishment as horses and hounds still
continue to be in the mansions of many modern squires. W hen
as yet the pursuits of literature were not, and ere gaming had
become vicious enough to be fashionable, the rude humours
of the jester could entertain a pick-tooth hour; and what wal¬
nuts now are to wine, and enlightened conversation to the amu¬
sements of the drawing-room, the boisterous bacclianalianism of
our ancestors once found in coarse buffooneries and the alternate
darkness and radiance of a foolish mind.
In later times, when all taste for such diversion had gone out,
the madman of the country-side frequently found shelter and pa-
• tronage under the roofs of neighbouring gentlemen; but though
the good things of Daft Jamie and Daft Wattie were regularly list¬
ened to by the laird, and preserved in the traditions of the
household, the encouragement given to them was rather ex¬
tended out of a benevolent compassion for their helpless condi¬
tion than from any desire to make their talents a source of enter¬
tainment. Such was the motive of Bradwardine in protecting
Davie Gellatley; and such was also that of the late Earl of We-
myss, in the support which he gave to the renowned Willie
Howison, a personage of whom many anecdotes are yet told in
Haddingtonshire, and whose services at Gosford House were not
unlike those of Davie at Tully-Veolan.
Till within the last few years, these unfortunate persons were
more frequently to be found in their respective villages throughout
the country than now ; and it is not long since even Edinburgh
could boast of her "Daft Laird," her " Bailie Duff," and her
" Madam Bouzie." Numerous charitable institutions now seclude
most of them from the world. Yet, in many retired districts,
where delicacy is not apt to be shocked by sights so common, the
blind, the dumb, and the insane are still permitted to mix indiscri¬
minately with their fellow-creatures. Poverty compels many pa¬
rents to take the easiest method of supporting their unfortunate
offspring—that of bringing them up with the rest of the fa-
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
mily: the decent pride of the Scottish peasant also makes an ap¬
plication to charity, even in such a case as this, a matter of very
rare occurrence ; and while superstition points out, that those
whom God has sent into the world with less than the full share
of mental faculties are always made most peculiarly the objects
of his care, thus rendering the possession of such a child rather
a medium through which the blessings of heaven are diffused
than a burden or a curse, the affectionate desire of administer¬
ing to them all those tender offices which their unhappy situa¬
tion so peculiarly requires, of tending them with their own eyes,
and nursing them with their own hands, make their domesti¬
cation a matter of strong, and happily not unpleasing, necessity.
The rustic idiots of Scotland are also in general blessed with
a few peculiarities, which seldom fail to make them objects of
popular esteem and affection. Many of them exhibit a degree of
sagacity or cunning, bearing the same relation to the rest of their
intellectual faculties which, in the ruins of a Grecian temple, the
coarse and entire foundations bear to the few and scattered, but
beautiful fragments of the superstructure. This humble qualifi¬
cation, joined sometimes to the more agreeable one of a shrewd
and sly humour, while it enables them to keep their own part, and
occasionally to baffle sounder judgments, proves an engaging
subject of amusement and wonder to the cottage fireside. A
wild and wayward fancy, powers of song singularly great, to¬
gether with a full share of the above qualifications, formed the
chief characteristics of Daft Jock Gray of Gilmanscleugh, whom
we are about to introduce to the reader as the counterpart of
Davie Gellatley.
John Gray is a native of Gilmanscleugh, a farm in the parish
of Etterick, of which his father was formerly the shepherd, and
from which, according to Border custom, he derives his popular
designation or title " of Gilmanscleuch." Jock is now above
fifty years of age, and still wanders through the neighbouring,
counties of Roxburgh, Selkirk, and Peebles, in a half minstrel,
half mendicant manner, finding, even after the fervour of youth
is past, no pleasure in a sedentary or domestic life.
Many months, many weeks, had not elapsed after Jock came
into the world, before all the old women of the Faculty in the pa¬
rish discovered that "he had a want." As he grew up, it was
found that he had no capacity for the learning taught at the pa-
216
WAVERLEY.
rish school, though, in receiving various other sorts of lore, he
showed an aptitude far surpassing that of more highly-gifted
children. Thus, though he had not steadiness of mind to com¬
prehend the alphabet, and Barrie's smallest primer was to him
as a fountain closed and a book sealed, he caught, at a wonder¬
fully early age, and with a rapidity almost incredible, many
fragments of Border song, which he could repeat, with the mu¬
sic, in the precise manner of those who instructed him ; and in¬
deed he discovered an almost miraculous power of giving utter¬
ance to sounds, in all their extensive and intricate varieties.
All endeavours on the part of his parents to communicate to
his mind the seed of written knowledge having failed, Jock was
abandoned to the oral lore he loved so much; and of this he soon
possessed himself of an immense stock. His boyhood was passed
in perfect idleness ; yet if it could have been proved upon him
(hat he had the smallest glimmering of sense, his days would
not have been so easy. In Jock's native district there are just two
ways for a boy to spend his time ; either he must go to school,
or he must tend the cows; and it generally happens that he
goes to school in summer, and tends the cows in winter. But
Jock's idiocy, like Caleb Balderstone's "fire," was an excuse for
every duty. As to the first employment, his friend the Do¬
minie bore him out with flying colours; for the second, the
question was set for ever at rest by a coup-de-main achieved by
the rascal's own happy fancy. "John," says the minister of Yar¬
row to him one day, " you are the idlest boy in the parish ; you
do nothing all day but go about from house to house; you might
lit least herd a few cows." "Me, Sir!" says Jock, with the most
stolid stare imaginable, " how could I herd the kye ? Losh, Sir,
I disna ken corn by garse!"—This happy hit was enough to
keep Jock comfortable all the rest of his life.
There is one species of employment in which Jock always
displays the utmost willingness to be engaged. It must be
understood, that, like many sounder men, he is a great ad¬
mirer of the fair sex. He exhibits an almost chivalrous de¬
votion to their cause, and takes great pleasure in serving them.
Any little commission with which they may please to honour
him, he executes with alacrity, and his own expression is, that
he would "jump Tweed, or dive the Wheel (a deep eddy in
Tweed), for their sakes." He requires no reward for his ser-
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
217
vices, but, like a true knight, begs only to kiss the hand of his
fair employer, and is satisfied. It may be observed, that he is
at all times fond of saluting the hands of ladies that will permit
him.
The author of Waverley has described Davie Gellatley as
dressed in a grey jerkin, with scarlet cuffs, and slashed sleeves,
showing a scarlet lining, a livery with which the Baron of Brad-
wardine indued him, in consideration of his services and cha¬
racter. Daft Jock Gray has at no period of his life exhibited
so much personal magnificence. His usual dress is a rather
shabby suit of hodden grey, with ridge and furrow * stockings ;
and the utmost extent of his finery is a pair of broad red garters,
bound neatly below the knee-strings of his nether garments,
of which, however, he is probably more vain than ever belted
knight was of the royal garter. But waving the matter of dress,
their discrepance in which is purely accidental, the resemblance
is complete in every other respect. The face, mien, and ges¬
tures are exactly the same. Jock walks with all that swing of
the body and arms, that abstracted air and sauntering pace,
which figure in the description of Davie, -f and which, it may
indeed be said, are peculiar to the whole genus and body of
Scottish madmen. Jock's face is equally handsome in its out¬
line with that given to the fool of Tully-Veolan, and is no
less distinguished by "that.wild, unsettled, and irregular ex¬
pression, which indicated neither idiocy nor insanity, but some¬
thing resembling a compound of both, where the simplicity of
the fool was mixed with the extravagance of a crazed imagi¬
nation." Add to this happy picture the prosaic and somewhat
unromantic circumstance of a pair of buck-teeth, and the reader
has our friend Jock to a single feature.
Like Davie Gellatley, Jock "is in good earnest the half-
crazed simpleton which he appears to be, and incapable of any
steady exertion. He has just so much wild wit as saves him
from the imputation of insanity, warm affections, a prodigious
memory, and an ear for music." This latter quality is a point
of resemblance which puts all question of their identity past the
possibility of doubt. Davie, it must be well remembered by
* See Introduction to " Peveril," where the Scottish Novelist describes,
himself as wearing sucli old-fashioned habiliments.
t Waverley, p. 137.
eis
WAVERLEY.
the readers of Waverley, is there represented as constantly
singing wild scraps of ancient songs and ballads, which, by a
beautiful fiction of the author, he is said to have received in
legacy from a poetical brother who died in a decline some years
before. Bis conversation was in general carried on by means
of these, to the great annoyance of young Waverley, and such as,
like him, did not comprehend the strange metaphorical mean¬
ings of his replies and allusions. Now, Jock's principal talent
and means of subsistence are vested in his singular and minstrel¬
like powers of song, there being few of our national melodies of
which he cannot chaunt forth a verse, as the occasion may
suggest to his memory. He never fails to be a welcome guest
with all the farmers he may chance to visit,* on account of his
faculties of entertaining them with the tender or warlike ditties
of the Border, or the more smart and vulgar songs of the mo¬
dern world. It is to be remarked, that his style of singing, like
the styles of all other great geniuses in the line arts, is entirely
his own. Sometimes his voice soars to the ecstasy of the
highest, and sometimes descends to the melancholious grunt of
the lowest pitch ; while ever and anon he throws certain wild
and beautiful variations into both the words and the music, act
libitum, which altogether stamp his performances with a cha¬
racter of the most perfect originality. He generally sings very
much through his nose, especially in humorous songs; and,
from his making a curious hiss, or twang, on setting off into a
melody, one might almost think that he employs his notorious
buck-teeth in the capacity of what musicians term a pitchfork.
In addition to his talent as a musician, Jock can also boast of
a supplementary one, by means of which, whenever memory
fails in his songs, he can supply, currente voce, all incidental
deficiencies. He is not only a wit and a musician, but also a
poet! He has composed several songs, which by no means want
admirers in the country, though the most of them scarcely de¬
serve the praise of even mediocrity. Indeed his poetical talents
are of no higher order than what the author of an excellent ar¬
ticle in the Edinburgh Annual Register happily terms "wonder¬
fully well considering;" and seem to be admired by his rustic
* While Sir Walter Scott resided at Ashesteil, Jock frequently visited him,
and was much noticed, on account of his strange humours and entertaining
qualities.
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
21»
Mends only on the benevolent principle of " where little has
been given, let little be required."
He has, however, another most remarkable gift, which the
author of Waverley has entirely rejected in conceiving the re¬
vised and enlarged edition of his character,—a wonderful turn
for mimicry. His powers in this art are far, far indeed, from
contemptible, though it unfortunately happens that, like almost
all rustic Scottish humorists, he makes ministers and sacred
things his chief and favourite objects. He attends the preach¬
ings of all the ministers that fall within the scope of his pere¬
grinations, and sometimes brings away whole tenthlies of their
several sermons, which he lays off' to any person that desires
him, with a faithfulness of imitation, in tone and gesture, which
never fails to convulse his audience with laughter. He has made
himself master of all the twangs, soughs, wheezes, coughs,
snirtles, and bleatings, peculiar to the various parish ministers
twenty miles round; and being himself of no particular sect, he
feels not the least delicacy or compunction for. any single class
of divines—all are indiscriminately familiar to the powers of the
universal Jock!
It is remarkable, that though the Scottish peasantry are almost
without exception pious, they never express, so far as we have
been able to discover, the least demur respecting the profanity
and irreverence of this exhibition. The character of the nation
may appear anomalous on this account. But we believe the
mystery may be solved by supposing them so sincerely and
unaffectedly devout, in all that concerns the sentiment of piety,
that they do not suspect themselves of any remissness, when
they make the outward circumstances, and even the ordinances
of religion, the subject of wit. It is on this account, that in no
country, even the most lax in religious feeling, have the matters
of the Church been discussed so freely as in Scotland ; and
nowhere are there so many jokes and good things about mi¬
nisters and priests. In this case the very ministers themselves
have been known to listen to Daft Jock's mimicries of their
neighbours with unqualmed delight,—never thinking, good souls,
that the impartial rascal has just as little mercy on themselves at
the next manse he visits. It is also to be remarked, that, in thus
quizzing the worthy ministers, he does not forget to practise what
the country-people consider a piece of exquisite satire on the
220
WAVERLEY.
habits of such as read their sermons. Whenever he imitates any
of those degenerate divines, who, by their unpopularity, form
quite a sect by themselves in the country, and are not nearly so
much respected as extempore preachers, * he must have either
a book or a piece of paper open before him, from which he
gravely affects to read the subject of discourse; and his audience
are always trebly delighted with this species of exhibition. He
was once amusing Mrs. C , the minister's wife of Selkirk, with
some imitations of the neighbouring clergymen, when she at last
requested him to give her a few words in the manner of Dr. C—,
who being a notorious reader, " Ou, Mem," says Jock, " ye maun
bring me the Doctor's Bible then, and I'll gie ye him in style."
She brought the Bible, little suspecting the purpose for which
the wag intended it, when, with the greatest effrontery, he pro¬
ceeded to burlesque this unhappy peculiarity of the worthy
Doctor, in the presence of his own wife.
Jock was always a privileged character in attending all sorts
of kirks, though many ministers, who dreaded a future sufferance
under his relentless caricaturing powers, would have been glad
to exclude him. He never seems to pay any attention to the ser¬
mon, nor even deigns to sit down, like other decent Christians,
but wanders constantly about from gallery to gallery, up stairs
and down stairs. His erratic habit is not altogether without its
use. When he observes any person sleeping during the sermon,
he reaches over to the place, and taps him gently on the head
with his kent till he awake; should he in any of his future rounds
(for he parades as regularly about as a policeman in a large
city), observe the drowsy person repeating the offence, he gives
him a tremendous thwack over the pate; and he increases the
punishment so much at every subsequent offence, that, like the
military punishment for desertion, the third infliction almost
amounts to death itself. A most laughable incident once occur¬
red in Church, on a drowsy summer afternoon, when the
* A respectable clergyman of our acquaintance, who is in the habit of
preaching his elegant discourses with the help of MS., was once extremely
amused with the declaration of a hearer, who professed himself repugnant to
that practice. " Doctor," says he, " ye're just a slave to the bit paper, and nane
o' us ha'e that respect for ye that we ought to ha'e; but, to do ye justice, I
maun confess, that since I changed my seat in the loft, and ha'na ye now sae
fair atween my een, so that I can hear without seeing yc, fient a bit but I think
ye're just as good as auld Threshin' Willy himsel!"
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
221
windows were let down, admitting and emitting a thousand flies,
whose monotonous buzz, joined to the somniferous snuffle of
Dr. , would have been fit music for the bed-chamber of
Morpheus, even though that honest god was lying ill of the tooth¬
ache, the gout, or any other equally waukrife disorder. A bailie,
who had dined, as is usual in most country towns, between
sermons, could not resist the propensity of his nature, and, fairly
overpowered, at last was under the necessity of affronting the
preacher to his very face, by laying down his head upon the
book-board; when his capacious, bald, round crown, might have
been mistaken, at first sight, for the face of the clock placed in
the front of the gallery immediately below. Jock was soon at
him With his stick, and with great difficulty succeeded in rousing
him. But the indulgence was too great to be long resisted, and
down again went the bailie's head. This was not to be borne.
Jock considered his authority sacred, and feared not either
the frowns of elders, nor the more threatening scowls of
kirk-officers, when his duty was to be done. So his arm went
forth, and the kent descended a second time with little reverence
upon the offending sconce; upon which the magistrate started
up with an astonished stare, in which the sentiment of surprise
was as completely concentrated as in the face of the inimitable
Mackay, when he cries out, " Hang a magistrate ! My con¬
science !" The contrast between the bailie's stupid and drowsy
face, smarting and writhing from the blow, which Jock had laid
on pretty soundly, and the aspect of the natural himself, who
still stood at the head of the pew, shaking his stick, and looking
at the magistrate with an air in which authority, admonition, and
a threat of further punishment, were strangely mingled,—al¬
together formed a scene of striking and irresistible burlesque;
and while the Doctor's customary snuffle was increased to a
perfect whimper of distress, the whole congregation showed in
their faces evident symptoms of every thing but the demureness
proper to a place of worship.
Sometimes, when in a sitting mood, Jock takes a modest seat
on the pulpit stairs, where there likewise usually roost a number
of deaf old women, who cannot hear in any other part of the
church. These old ladies, whom the reader will remember as
the unfortunate persons that Dominie Sampson sprawled over,
in his premature descent from the pulpit, when he stickithxs first
222
WAVERLEY.
preaching, our waggish friend would endeavour to torment by
every means which his knavish humour could invent. He would
tread upon their corns, lean amorously upon their laps, purloin
their specks (spectacles), set them on a false scent after the
psalm, and, sometimes getting behind them, plant his longest and
most serious face over their black cathedral-looking bonnets,
like an owl looking over an ivied wall, while few of the audience
could contain their gravity at the extreme humour of the scene.
The fun was sometimes, as we ourselves have witnessed, not a
little enhanced by the old lady upon whom Jock was practising,
turning round, in holy dudgeon, and dealing the unlucky wag a
vengeful thwack across the face with her heavy octavo Bible.
We have also seen a very ludicrous scene take place, when, on
the occasion of a baptism, he refused to come down from his
citadel, and defied all the efforts which James Kerr, the kirk-
officer, made to dislodge him; while the father of the child,
waiting below to present it, stood in the most awkward predi¬
cament imaginable, not daring to venture upon the stairs while
Jock kept possession of them.
The naturals, or idiots, of Scotland, of whom the Davie Gel-
latley of fictitious, and the Daft Jock Gray of real life, may be
considered as good specimens, form a class of our countrymen
which it is our anxious desire should be kept in remembrance.
Many of the anecdotes told of them are extremely laughable,
and we are inclined to prize such things, on account of the just
exhibitions they sometimes afford of genuine human nature.
The sketch we have given, and the anecdotes which we are
about to give, may perhaps be considered valuable on this ac¬
count, and also from their connexion, moreover, with the man¬
ners of rustic life in the Lowlands of Scotland.
Daft Willie Law of Kirkaldy was a regular attendant on tent-
preachings, and would scour the country thirty miles round in
order to be present at "an occasion."* One warm summer-
day, he was attending the preaching at Abbots-Hall, when,
being very near-sighted, and having a very short neck, he stood
* The country people call a dispensation of the greater Sacrament " an oc¬
casion." It is also scoflingly termed " the Holy Fair." In Edinburgh it is
called " the Preachings." But it must be observed, these phrases are only ap¬
plied in reference to the outward circumstances, and not to the holy ceremony
itself.
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
223
quite close to " tlie tent," gaping in the minister's face, who,
greatly irritated at a number of his hearers being fast asleep,
bawled out, " For shame, Christians, to lie sleeping there, while
the glad tidings of the gospel are sounding in your ears; and
here is Willie Law, a poor idiot, hearing me with great atten¬
tion!" " Eh go! sir, that's true," says Willie; " but if I hadna
been a pair idiot, I would have been sleeping too!"
The late John Berry, Esq. of Wester Bogie, was married to a
distant relation of Daft Willie, upon which account the poor fellow
used a little more freedom with that gentleman than with any other
who was in the habit of noticing him. Meeting Mr. Berry one day
inKirkaldy, he cries, "God bless you, Mr. Berry! gie's a bawbee,
gie's a bawbee." "There, Willie," says Mr. Berry, giving him
what he thought a halfpenny, but which he immediately saw was
a shilling. " That's no a gude bawbee, Willie," continues he; "gie
me't back, and 111 gie ye anither ane for't." "Na, na," quoth
Willie, "it sets daft Willie Law far better to put away an ill baw¬
bee than it wad do you, Mr. Berry. " " Ay, but Willie, if ye dinna
gie me't back, I'll never gie ye anither ane." " Deil may care,"
says the wag, "it'll be langorlgetitherfour-and-twentyfraeye!"
Willie was descended from an ancient Scottish family, and
nearly related to John Law of Lauriston, the celebrated linancier
of France. On that account he was often spoken to and no¬
ticed by gentlemen of distinction; and he wished always to
appear on the most intimate terms with the nobility and gentry
of the neighbourhood. Posting one day through Kirkcaldy with
more than ordinary speed, he was met by Mr. Oswald of Dun-
nikier, who asked him where he was going in such a hurry.
" I'm gaun to my cousin Lord Elgin's burial." " Your con-
sin Lord Elgin's burial, you fool! Lord Elgin's not dead! " Ah,
deil may care," quoth Willie; " there's sax doctors out o' Em-
bro' at him, and they'll hae him dead afore I win forat!"
Of Matthew Gatliie, an East Lothian idiot, numerous charac¬
teristic anecdotes are related. He lives by begging in the town of
NorthBerwick, and is well treated by the people there, on account
of his extreme inoffensiveness. Like Daft Jock Gray, he is fond of
going into churches, where his appearance does not fail to set the
people a-staring. On one occasion, the minister, pointing toMat-
tliew, said, "That person must be put out before we can proceed."
Matthew, hearing this, exclaimed, "Put him out wha likes, I'll
2-24
WAVERLEY.
hae nae hand in't!"—Another time, the minister said "Mathew
must he put out!" when Matthew got up and replied, "Oh!
Geordic, man, ye needna fash—Matthew can gang out himsel'!"
The Earl of Wemyss, walking one day, found his fool, Willie
llowison, asleep upon the ground, and, rousing him, asked what
he had been dreaming about. "Ou, my lord," says Willie, "I
dreamed that I was in hell!" "Ay, Willie, and pray what
did ye observe there?" "Ou, my lord, it's just there as it's
here—the grit folk's ta'en farrest ben
Selkirkshire boasts of several highly amusing idiots, all of
whom John Gray once made the subject of a song, in which
each of them received some complimentary mention. Himself,
Davie o' the Inch, Caleb and Robbie Scott, and Jamie Renwick,
are the chief heroes. Caleb, a very stupid natural, was once en¬
gaged by a troop of wandering showfolks to personate the cha¬
racter of an orang-outang at a Melrose fair; the regular orang¬
outang of the establishment having recently left his keepers in the
lurch, by marrying a widow in Berwick, which enabled him to give
up business, and retire to the shades of domestic privity, Caleb
performed very well, and, being appropriately tarred and fea¬
thered, looked the part to perfection. Amateurship alone would
have soon reconciled him to be an orang-outang all the rest of
his life, and to have left Selkirkshire behind; for, according to
his own account, he had nothing to do but hold his tongue, and
sit munchingapples all day long. But his stars had not destined
him for so enviable a life of enjoyment. A drunken farmer
coming in to see " the wild man of the woods," out of pure
mischief gave Caleb a lash across the shoulders with his whip,
when the poor fellow roaring out in his natural voice, a mor¬
tifying denouement took place; the showfolks were affronted
and hissed out of the town, and Caleb was turned off at a mo¬
ment's notice, with all his blushing honours thick upon him!
Jamie Renwick has more sense and better perceptions than
Caleb Scott, but he is much more intractable and mischievous.
He is a tall, stout, wild-looking fellow, and might perhaps make
as good a hyaena as Caleb made an orang-outang. Once, being
upon an excursion along with Jock Gray, they came to a farm¬
house, and, in default of better accommodation, were lodged in
the barn. They did not like this treatment at all, and Jock, in
particular, was so irritated, that he would not rest, but got up
DAVIE GELLATLEY.
•225
and walked about, amusing himself with some of his wildest and
most sonorous melodies. This, of course, annoyed his compa¬
nion, who, being inclined to sleep, was making the best he could
of a blanket and a bundle of straw. " Come to your bed, ye
skirlin' deevil!" cries Jamie; " I canna get a wink o' sleep for
ye: I daursay the folk will think us daft! Od, if ye dinna come
and lie down this instant, I'll rise and bring ye to your senses
wi' my' rung!"—" Faith," says Jock, " if ye do that, it will be
mair than ony ither body has ever been able to do!" It will be
remembered that even the minister of Yarrow himself failed in
accomplishing this consummation so devoutly to be wished.
The following anecdote, from Colonel Stewart's work on the
Highlands, displays a strange instance of mingled sagacity and
fidelity in a Celtic madman; and has, we have no doubt, been
made use of in the Author of Waverley's examples of the fidelity
of Davie Gellatley, as exerted in behalf of his unfortunate patron
on similar occasions: —
"In the years 1746 and 1747, some of the gentlemen 'who
had been out' in the rebellion were occasionally concealed in a
deep woody den near my grandfather's house. A poor half¬
witted creature, brought up about the house, was, along with
many others, entrusted with the secret of their concealment,
and employed in supplying them with necessaries. It was
supposed that when the troops came round on their usual
searches, they would not imagine that he could be intrusted with
so important a secret, and, consequently, no questions would be
asked. One day two ladies, friends of the gentlemen, wished
to visit them in their cave, and asked Jamie Forbes to show
them the way. Seeing that they came from the house, and
judging from their manner that they were friends, he did not
object to their request, and walked away before them. When
they had proceeded a short way, one of the ladies offered him
five shillings. The instant he saw the money, he put his hands
behind his back, and seemed to lose all recollection. ' He did
not know what they wanted : he never saw the gentlemen,
and knew nothing of themand, turning away, walked in a
quite contrary direction. When questioned afterwards why he
ran away from the ladies, he answered, that when they had
offered him such a sum (live shillings was of some value
seventy years ago, and would have bought two sheep in the
15
S22G
WAVERLEY.
J lighlands), lie suspected they had no good intention, and that
their fine clothes and fair words were meant to entrap the
gentlemen."
Rory Dall, the harper.—An allusion is made to this celebrated
musician in the description of Flora Maclvor's performance upon
the harp in the Highland glen. " Two paces back stood Cath-
leen, holding a small Scottish harp, the use of which had been
taught her by Rory Dall, one of the last harpers of the Western
Islands." *—Roderick Morison, called Dall on account of his
blindness, lived in Queen Anne's time, in the double capacity
of harper and bard to the family of MacLeod of MacLeod. Many
of his songs and poems are still repeated by his countrymen.
The Rodach Glas.—The original of the Bodach Glas, whose
appearance proved so portentous to the family of the Maclvors,
may probably be traced to a legend current in the ancient family
of MacLaine of Lochbuy, in the Island of Mull, noticed by Sir
Walter Scott in a note to his " Lady of the Lake."f The popu¬
lar tradition is, that whenever any person descended of that
family is near death, the spirit of one of them, who was slain in
battle, gives notice of the approaching event. There is this
difference between the Bodach Glas and him, that the former
appeared on these solemn occasions only to the chief of the
house of Maclvor, whereas the latter never misses an individual
descended of the family of Lochbuy, however obscure, or in
whatever part of the world he may be.
The manner of his showing himself is sometimes different,
but lie uniformly appears on horseback. Both the horse and
himself seem to be of a very diminutive size, particularly the
head of the rider, from which circumstance he goes under the
the appellation of " Eoghan a chinn bhig," or "Hugh of the little
head." Sometimes he is heard riding furiously round the house,
where the person is about to die, with an extraordinary noise,
like the rattling of iron chains. At other times he is discovered
with his horse's head nearly thrust in at a door or window; and,
on such occasions, whenever observed, he gallops off in the man¬
ner already described, the hooves of his steed striking fire from
* See Waverlev, p. 247.
f Note 7 to Canto III.
THE BODACH GLAS.
227
flinty rocks. The effects of such a visit on the inmates of the
dwelling may be easily conceived when it is considered that it
was viewed as an infallible prognostication of approaching death
—an event at which the stoutest heart must recoil, when the
certainty is placed before him of his hours being numbered.
Like his brother spirits, he seems destined to perform his me¬
lancholy rounds amidst nocturnal darkness, the horrors of which
have a natural tendency to increase the consternation of a scene
in itself sufficiently appalling.
The origin of the tradition is involved in the obscurity of an¬
tiquity. It is related of him that, on the eve of a battle in which
he was to be engaged, a weird woman prophesied to him, that
if his wife (who was a daughter of MacDougall of Lorn), on the
morning when he was to set out on his expedition, had his
breakfast prepared before he was ready for it, good fortune
would betide him; if, on the other hand, he had to call for his
breakfast, he would lose his life in the conflict. It seems he
was not blest with an affectionate spouse; for, on the morning
in question, after waiting a considerable time, he had at last
to call for his breakfast, not, however, without upbraiding Lis
wife, by informing her of what was to be the consequence of
her want of attention. The presentiment that he was to fall
may have contributed to the fulfilment of the prophecy, which
was accomplished as a matter of course. This part of the
story probably refers to one of the MacLaines of Lochbuy,
who was married to a daughter of MacDougall of Lorn, and
who, with his two eldest sons, was killed in a feud with their
neighbours, the MacLeans of Duart, which had nearly proved
fatal to the family of Lochbuy. This happened in the reign of
King James IV.
It has not come to our knowledge for what cause the pe¬
nance imposed on Eoghan a chinn bhig of giving warning to all
his clan of their latter end—whether for deeds done in this
life, or whether (as some people imagine that departed spirits
act as guardian angels to the living), he is thus permitted to show
his regard for his friends by visiting them in their last moments,
to prepare them for another world. The latter would appear
to be the most probable, from a circumstance reported of him,
which seems rather at variance with his general character of a
15*
228
WAVERLEY.
harbinger of death. It is said that he took a great fancy to a
near relation of the family of Lochbuy (called, by way of pa¬
tronymic, John M'Charles), to whom he paid frequent visits,
and communicated several particulars respecting the future fate
of the family. Whenever he wished an interview with his fa¬
vourite, he would come to his door, from which he would not
stir till John M' Charles came out; when he would pull him
up behind him on his Pegasus, and ride all night over hills,
rocks, woods, and wilds, at the same time conversing with him
familiarly of several events that were to happen in the Lochbuy
family, one of which is said to have been accomplished, about
forty years ago, according to his prediction.
This tiny personage, though light of limb, has the reputation
of being, like all other unearthly beings, endued with superna¬
tural strength, of which his exploits with John M'Charles afford
an instance. Not many years ago, a man in Mull, when re¬
turning home about dusk, perceived a person on horseback
coming towards him. Supposing it might be some person whom
he knew, he went up to speak to him; but the horseman seemed
determined to pass on without noticing him. Thinking he ob¬
served something remarkable in the appearance of the rider, he
approached close to him, when he was unexpectedly seized by
the collar, and forcibly dragged about a quarter of a mile by the
stranger, who at last abandoned his hold, after several ineffec¬
tual attempts to place his terrified victim behind him, which,
being a powerful man, he successfully resisted. He was, how¬
ever, so much bruised in the scuffle, that it was with difficulty
he could make his way home, although he had only about half-
a mile to go. He immediately took to his bed, which he did
not leave for some days, his friends wondering all the time
what could he the matter with him. It was not until he told
the story, as we have related it, that the adventure was known.
And as, after the strictest inquiry, it could not be ascertained that
any person on horseback had passed that way on the evening
on which it took place, it was, by the unanimous voice of all the
seers and old wives in the neighbourhood, laid down as an in¬
controvertible proposition, that the equestrian stranger could be
no other than " Eoghan a chinn bhig." x
In whatever way the tradition originated, certain it is that, at
GUY MANNERING. 22!)
one time, it was very generally, if not universally, received over
the island of Mull and adjacent parts. Like other superstitions
of similar nature, it has gradually given way to the more en¬
lightened ideas of modern times, and the belief is now confined
to the vulgar.
GUY MANNERING.
Groundwork of the Novel.*—"Sir Robert Maxwell of Orchards-
ton, in the county of Galloway, was the descendant of an ancient
Roman Catholic family of title in the south of Scotland. He
was the only child of a religious and bigoted recluse, who sent
him, while yet very young, to a college of Jesuits in Flanders,
for education—the paternal estate being, in the meantime,
wholly managed by the boy's uncle, the brother of the devotee,
to whom he resigned the guardianship of the property, in order
that he might employ the remainder of his days exclusively in
acts of devotion. In the family of Orchardston, as, indeed, inmost
great families of that day, the younger branches were but ill
provided for, and looked to the inheritor of the family estate
alone for the means of supporting their rank in society: the
liberal professions and the employments of trade were still con¬
sidered somewhat dishonourable ; and the unfortunate junior,
nursed with inflated ideas of consequence and rank, was doomed
in after life to exercise the servility and experience the mortifi¬
cation of an humble dependant. In this case, the culpable
negligence of the father had transferred the entire management
of a large estate to his younger brother, who was so delighted
in the possession, that he resolved to retain it, to the exclusion
of the rightful heir. He consequently circulated a report that
the boy was dead; and, on the death of the old baronet, which
took place about this period, he laid claim to the title and estate.
In the meantime, our young hero was suffering (very reluctantly)
the severe discipline of the Jesuits' college, his expenses being
defrayed by occasional supplies sent him by his uncle, which
were represented to him as the bounties of the college— a story
which he could not discredit, as he had been placed there at an
* From the New Monthly Magazine, June, 1819.
'230
GUY MANNERING.
age too young to know distinctly either who he was or whence
he came. He was intelligent and docile; and was deemed of
sufficient capacity to become hereafter one of their own learned
body, with which view he was educated. When at the age of
sixteen, he found the discipline and austerities of a monastic life
so ill suited to his inclination, that, on a trivial dispute with the
superior of his college, he ran away, and enlisted himself in a
French marching regiment. In this situation he sustained all the
hardships of hunger, long marches, and incessant alarms; and,
as it was in the hottest part of the war between France and
England, about the year 1743, it may easily be imagined that
his situation was by no means enviable. He fought as a foot-
soldier at the battle of Bettingen; he was also at the battle of
Fontenoy; and landed, as an ensign in the French troops, at
Murray Frith, during the rebellion of 1745. He joined the rebels
a little before the battle of Prestonpans, marched with them to
Derby, and retreated with them to Scotland. He was wounded
at the battle of Culloden, and fled with a few friends to the
woods of Lochaber, where he remained the greater part of the
summer of 1746, living upon the roots of trees, goats' milk, and
the oat-meal and water of such peasants as he durst confide in.
Knowing, however, that it would be impossible to continue this
course of life during the winter, he began to devise means of
effecting his return to France—perfectly unconscious that, in
the country where he was suffering all the miseries of an outcast
criminal, he was entitled to the possession of an ample estate
and title. Ilis scheme was to gain the coast of Galloway, where
he hoped to get on board some smuggling vessel to the Isle of
Man, and from thence to France. The hardships which he
suffered in the prosecution of this plan would require a volume
in their description. He crept through by-ways by night, and
w as forced to lie concealed among rocks and woods during the
day. He was reduced almost to a state of nudity, and his food
was obtained from the poorest peasants, in whom only he could
confide. Of this scanty subsistence he was sometimes for days
deprived; and, to complete his misfortunes, he was, after having
walked barefooted over rocks, briers, and unfrequented places,
at length discovered, seized, and carried before a magistrate
near Dumfries. As his name was Maxwell, which he did not
attempt to conceal, he would have suffered as a rebel, had not
GROUNDWORK OF THE NOVEL.
231
his commission as a French officer been found in the lining of
his tattered coat, which entitled him to the treatment of a prisoner
of war. This privilege, however, only extended to the preser¬
vation of his life. He was confined in a paved stone dungeon so
long, that he had amused himself by giving names to each stone
which composed the pavement, and which, in after life, he took
great pleasure in relating and pointing out to his friends. An
old woman, who had been his nurse in childhood, was at this
lime living in Dumfries, where he was a prisoner; and having
accidentally seen him, and becoming acquainted with his name,
apparent age, &c. felt an assurance that he was the rightful Sir
Robert Maxwell. The indissoluble attachment of the lower
orders in Scotland to their chiefs is well known; and, impelled
by this feeling, this old and faithful domestic attended him with
almost maternal affection, administering liberally to his distresses.
After an interview of some weeks, she made him acquainted with
her suspicion, and begged leave to examine a mark which she
remembered upon his body. This proof also concurring, she
became outrageous with joy, and ran about the streets proclaiming
the discovery she had made. This rumour reaching the ears of
the magistrates, inquiry was made, the proofs were examined,
and it soon became the general opinion that he was the son of
the old baronet of Orchardston. The estate lay but a few miles
from Dumfries; and the unlawful possessor being a man of
considerable power, and of a most vindictive disposition, most
people, whatever might be their private opinion, were cautious
in espousing the cause of this disinherited and distressed orphan.
One gentleman, however, was found, who, to his eternal honour,
took him by the hand. A Mr. Gowdy procured his release from
prison, took him to his own house, clothed him agreeably to his
rank, and enabled him to commence an action against his uncle.
Thp latter was not inactive in the defence of his crime, and took
every pains to prove his nephew to be an impostor. Chagrin and
a consciousness of guilt, however, put an end to his existence
before the cause came to a hearing; and Sir Robert was at
length put into possession of an estate worth upwards of ten
thousand pounds a-year. He now began to display those qualities
and abilities which had been but faintly perceptible in his former
station: he now discovered an ingenuous mind, an intellect at
232
GUY MANNER1NG.
once vigorous and refined, and manners the most elegant and
polished. His society was courted by all the neighbouring gentry;
and, in the course of time, he married a Miss MacLellan, a near
relation of the family of Lord Kirkcudbright: with this lady he
lived in the most perfect happiness for many years. He joined in
the prevalent practice of farming his own estate, and built a very
elegant house on an eminence overlooking the Nith. An imprudent
speculation in the bank of Ayr, however, compelled him to
abandon the seat of his ancestors. He had reserved a small
pittance, on which he and his lady lived the latter part of their
days. This calamity he bore as became a man familiar with
misfortune; and he continued the same worthy open-hearted cha¬
racter he had ever been. The reduction of his fortune served
only to redouble the kindness and cordiality of his friends. He
died suddenly in September, 1786, whilst on the road to visit
one of them—the Earl of Selkirk. He left behind him no issue;
but his name is still remembered with ardent attachment."
Counsellor Pleydell—Is understood to be the representa¬
tive of Mr. Andrew Crosbie, who flourished at the head of the
Scottish bar about the period referred to in the novel.
Many circumstances conspire to identify him with the lawyer
of the novel. Their eminence in their profession was equally re¬
spectable,—their habits of frequenting taverns and High Jinks
parties on Saturday nights was the same,—and both were remark-
Able for that antique politeness of manner so characteristic of old
Scottish gentlemen. It may be allowed that Pleydell is one of the
characters most nearly approaching to generic that we have at¬
tempted to identify with real life; but it is nevertheless so strenu¬
ously asserted by all who have any recollection of Mr. Crosbie,
that Pleydell resembles him in particular, that we feel no hesi¬
tation in assigning him as the only true specific original. We
therefore lay the following simple facts before the public, and
leave the judicious reader to his own discrimination.
Mr. Crosbie was in the prime of life about the middle of the
last century, and from that period till the year 1780, enjoyed the
highest reputation in his profession. He came of a respectable fa¬
mily in the county of Galloway—the district, the reader will re¬
member, in which the principal scenes of the novel are laid, and
COUNSELLOR PLEYDELL.
233
probably the shire of which Paulus Pleydell, Esq. is repre¬
sented * as having been, at an early period of his life, the she¬
riff-depute.
The residence of Mr. Crosbie, in the early periods of his prac¬
tice, exactly coincides with that of Pleydell, whom Colonel Man-
nering found in a dark close on the north side of the High Street,
several storeys up a narrow common stair. Mr. Crosbie lived
first in Lady Stair's Close, a steep alley on the north side of the
Lawnmarket—afterwards in the Advocate's Close, in the Lucken-
booths—and finally in a self-contained and well-built house of his
own, at the foot of Allan's Close, still standing, and lately inha^
bited by Richard Cleghorn, Esq. Solicitor before the Supreme
Courts. All these various residences are upon the north side
of the High Street, and the two first answer particularly to the
description in the novel. The last is otherwise remarkable as
being situated exactly behind and in view of the innermost pene¬
tralia of Mr. Constable's great publishing warehouse,f—the sanc¬
tum sanctorum in which Captain Clutterbuck found the Eidolon
of the Author of Waverley, so well described in the Introduction
to " Nigel."
At the period when Mr. Crosbie flourished, all the advocates
and judges of the day dwelt in those obscure wynds or alleys lead¬
ing down from the High Street, which, since the erection of the
New Town, have been chiefly inhabited by the lower classes of
society. The greater part, for the sake of convenience, lived
in the lanes nearest to the Parliament House—such as the Ad¬
vocate's Close, Writer's Court, Lady Stair's Close, the West
Bow, the Back Stairs, the President's Stairs in the Parliament
Close, and the tenements around the Mealmarket. In these
dense and insalubrious obscurities they possessed what were
then the best houses in Edinburgh, and which were considered
as such till the erection of Brown's Square and the contiguous
suburbs, about the beginning of the last king's reign, when the
lawyers were found the first to remove to better and more ex-
* Guy Mannering, chapter 37.
■f From which all the works of the Author of Waverley, besides many other
publications of the highest character, have issued. It is perhaps worth while
to record, that" Peveril of the Peak" was the last work of the Author of Wa~
verley'sthat appeared here—its successor, "Quentin Durward," being published
(May 1823), a few days after Constable and Co. had forsaken the High-Street
for the genteeler air of the New Town.
*234
GUY MANNERING.
tensive accommodations, being then, as now, the leading and most
opulent class of Edinburgh population.
Living, as they did, so near the Parliament House, it was the
custom of both advocates and senators to have their wigs dressed
at home, and to go to court with their gowns indued, their wigs
in full puff, and each with his cocked hat under his arm. *
About nine in the morning, the various avenues to the Parlia¬
ment Square used to be crowded with such figures. In particu¬
lar, Mr. Crosbie was remarkable for the elegance of his figure, as,
like his brethren, he emerged from the profundity of his alley into
the open street. While he walked at a deliberate pace across
the way, there could not be seen among all the throng a more
elegant figure. He exhibited at once the dignity of the coun¬
sellor high at the bar and the gracefulness of the perfect gentle¬
man. He frequently walked without a gown, when the fineness
of his personal appearance was the more remarkable. His dress
was usually a black suit, silk stockings, clear shoes, with gold
or silver buckles. Sometimes the suit was of rich black velvet.
Mr. Crosbie, with all the advantages of a pleasing exterior,
possessed the more solid qualifications of a vigorous intellect, a
refined taste, and an eloquence that has never since been equalled
at the bar. His integrity as a counsel could only be surpassed
by his abilities as a pleader. In the first capacity, his acute
judgment and great legal knowledge had long placed him in the
highest rank. In the second, his thorough and confident ac¬
quaintance with the law of his case, his beautiful style of lan¬
guage, all "the pomp and circumstance" of matchless eloquence,
commanded the attention of the bench in no ordinary degree;
and while his talents did all that could be done in respect of mov-
* Even when the judges lived in the distant suburb of George's Square, they
did not give up this practice. Old Braxfiekl used always to put on his wig and
gown at home, and walk to the Parliament House, via Bristo Street, Society,
Scott's Close, and the Back Stairs. One morning, his barber, old Kay, since
the well known limner, was rather late in taking his Lordship's wig to George's
Square. Braxfield was too impatient to wait; so he ran off with only his night¬
cap on bis head, and was fortunate enough to meet his tardy barber in Scott's
Close, when he seized his wig with one hand, took off his niglit-cap with the
pther, and adjusting the whole matter himself, sent Kay back with the undig¬
nified garment exued. This is a picture of times gone by never to return; yet,
as if to show how long traces of former manners will survive their general decay,
Lord Glenlce, who continues to live in Brown's Square, still dresses at home,
and walks to court in the style of his predecessors.
COUNSELLOR PLEYDELL.
235
ing the court, the excelling beauty of his oratory attracted im¬
mense crowds of admirers, whose sole disinterested object was
to hear him.
It is recorded of him that he was one day particularly bril¬
liant—so brilliant as even to surprise his usual audience, the im¬
perturbable Lords themselves. What rendered the circumstance
more wonderful was, that the case happened to be extremely
dull, common-place, and uninteresting. The secret history of
the matter was to the following effect:—A facetious contempo¬
rary, and intimate friend of Mr. Crosbie, the celebrated Lord
Gardenstone, in the course of a walk from Morningside, where
he resided, fell into conversation with a farmer, who was going
to Edinburgh in order to hear his cause pled that forenoon by
Mr. Crosbie. The senator, who was a very homely and rather
eccentric personage, on being made acquainted with the man's
business, directed him to procure a dozen or two of farthings at
a snulf-shop in the Grassmarket—to wrap them separately up
in white paper, under the disguise of guineas—and to present
them to his counsel as fees, when occasion served. The case
was called: Mr. Crosbie rose; but his heart not happening to
he particularly engaged, he did not by any means exert the ut¬
most of his powers. The treacherous client, however, kept close
behind his back, and ever and anon, as he perceived Mr. C. bringing
his voice to a cadence, for the purpose of closing the argument,
slipped the other farthing into his hand. The repeated applica¬
tion of this silent encouragement so far stimulated the advocate,
that, in the end, he became truly eloquent—strained every nerve
of his soul in grateful zeal for the interests of so good a client—
and, precisely at the fourteenth farthing, gained the cause. The
denouement of the conspiracy took place immediately after, in
John's Coffeehouse, over a bottle of wine, with which Mr.
Crosbie treated Lord Gardenstone from the profits of his plead¬
ing; and the surprise and mortification of the barrister, when,
on putting his hand into his pocket in order to pay the reckoning,
he discovered the real extent of his fee, can only be imagined.
Within the last forty years, a curious custom prevailed among
the gentlemen of the long robe in Edinburgh,—a custom which,,
however little it might be thought of then, would certainly make
nine modern advocates out of ten shudder at every curl just to
think of it. This was the practice of doing all their business, ex-
23B
guy mannering;
cept what required to be done in the court, in taverns and cof¬
fee-houses. Plunged in these subterranean haunts, the great
lawyers of the day were to be found, surrounded with their myr¬
midons, throughout the whole afternoon aud evening of the day.
It was next to impossible to find a lawyer at his own abode, and,
indeed, such a thing was never thought of. The whole matter
was, to find out his tavern, which the cadies upon the street—
those men of universal knowledge—could always tell—and then
seek the oracle in his own proper hell, as iEneas sought the
sybil. At that time a Directory was seldom applied to; and even
though a stranger could have consulted the celebrated Peter
Williamson's (supposing it then to have been published), he
might, perhaps, by dint of research, have found out where Lucky
Roberston lived who, in the simple words of that intelligencer,
" sold the best twopennyor he might have been accommodated,
more to his satisfaction, with the information of who, through all
the city, "sett lodgings" and "kept rooms for single men;" but
he would have found the Directory of little use to him in point¬
ing out where he might meet a legal friend. The cadies, who,
at that time, wont to be completely au fait with every hole and
bore in the town, were the only directories to whom a client from
the country, such as Colonel Mannering or Dandie Dinmont,
could in such a case apply.
The peculiar haunt of Mr. Crosbie was Douglas's tavern in the
Anchor Close, then a respectable and flourishing house, now de¬
serted and shut up. Here many revelries, similar to those de¬
scribed in the novel, took place; and here the game of High
Jinks, was played by a party of convivial lawyers every Saturday
night. The situation of the house resembles that of Clerihugh,
described in "Guy Mannering," being the second door down a
steep close, upon the north side of the High Street. Here a
club, called the Crochallan Corps, of which Robert Burns was
a member when in Edinburgh, assembled periodically, and held
bacchanalian orgies, famous for their fierceness and duration.
There was also a tavern in Writer's Court, kept by a real
person, named Clerihugh, the peculiarities of which do not re¬
semble those ascribed to the tavern of the novel, nearly so much
as do those of Douglas's. Clerihugh's was, however, a respec¬
table house. There the magistrates of the city always gave their
civic dinners, and, what may perhaps endear it more in our re-
COUNSELLOR PLEYDELL.
237
collections, it was once the favourite resort of a Boswell, a
Gardenstone, and a Home. We may suppose that such a house
as Douglas's gave the idea of the tavern described by our au¬
thor, while Clerihugh being a more striking name, and better
adapted for his purpose, he adopted it in preference to the real one.
The custom of doing all business in taverns gave that genera¬
tion of lawyers a very dissipated habit, and to it we are to attri¬
bute the ruin of Mr. Crosbie. That gentleman being held in
universal esteem and admiration, his company was much sought
after; and, while his celibacy gave every opportunity that could
be desired, his own disposition to social enjoyments tended to
confirm the evil. An anecdote is told of him, which displays in
a striking manner the extent to which he was wont to go in his
debaucheries. He had been engaged to plead a cause, and had
partially studied the pros and cons ©f the case, after which he
set off and plunged headlong into those convivialities with which
he usually closed the evening. His debauch was a fierce one,
and he did not get home till within an hour of the time when
the court was to open. It was then too late for sleep, and all
other efforts to cool the effervescence of his spirits, by applying
wet cloths to his temples, &c. were vain ; so that when the case
was called, reason had scarcely re-assumed her deserted throne.
Nevertheless, he opened up with his usual brilliancy, and soon
got warm into the argument; but not far did he get leave to
proceed with his speech, when the agent came up behind, with
horror and alarm in his face, pulled him by the gown, and
whispered into his ear, " What the deevil! Mr. Crosbie! ye'll
ruin a'! ye're on the wrang side; the very Lords are winking
at it; and the client is gi'en a' up for lost." The crapulous
barrister gave a single glance at the exordia of his papers, and
instantly comprehended his mistake. However, not at all abashed,
he rose again, and " Such, my Lords," says he, " are probably
the weak and intemperate arguments of the defender, concern¬
ing which, as I have endeavoured to state them, you can only
entertain one opinion, namely, that they are utterly false, ground¬
less, and absurd." He then turned to upon the right side of the
question, pulled to pieces all that he had said before, and re¬
presented the case in an entirely different light; and so much
and so earnestly did he exert himself in order to repair his er¬
ror, that he actually gained the cause.
238
GUY MANNERING.
In the course of a long successful practice, the original of Pley-
dell acquired some wealth; and, at the time when the New
Town of Edinburgh began to be built, with an enthusiasm pre¬
valent at the period, he conceived the best way of laying out
his money to be in the erection of houses in that noble and pros¬
perous extension of the city. He therefore spent all he had, and
ran himself into considerable debt, in raising a structure which
was to surpass all the edifices yet erected, for making the de¬
sign of which he employed that celebrated architect, Mr. James
Craig, the nephew of Mr. Thompson, who planned the New
Town on its projection in 1767. The house which Mr. Cros-
bie erected was to the north of the splendid mansion built by Sir
Lawrence Dundas, which subsequent times have seen converted
into an excise-office; and as the beauty of Mr. C.'s house was
in a great measure subservient to the decoration of Sir Law¬
rence's, that gentleman, with his accustomed liberality, made
his tasteful neighbour a present of five hundred pounds. Yet
this bonus proved, after all, but an insufficient compensation for
the expense which Mr. Crosbie had incurred in his sumptuous
speculation; and the unfortunate barrister, who, by his taste,
had attracted the wonder and envy of all ranks, was thought to
have made himself a considerable loser in the end. While it
was yet unfinished, he removed from Allan's Close, and, esta¬
blishing himself in one of its corners, realized Knickerbocker's
fable of the snail in the lobster's shell. He lived in it for some
time, in a style of extravagance appropriate to the splendour of
his mansion ; till, becoming embarrassed by his numerous debts,
and beginning to feel the effects of other imprudencies, he was
at last obliged to resort to Allan's Close, and take up with his
old abode and his diminished fortunes. About this period his
constitution appeared much injured by his habits of life, and he
was of course unable to attend to business with his former ala¬
crity. An incipient passion for dogs, horses, and cocks, was
anoiher strong symptom of decay. To crown all, he made a
low marriage with a woman who had formerly been his menial,
and, some said, his mistress; and as this tended very much to
take away the esteem of the world, his practice began to forsake,
and his friends to neglect him.
It was particularly unfortunate, that, about this time, he lost
the habit of frequenting one particular tavern, as he had been
DRIVER.
239
accustomed to do in his earlier and better years. The irregula¬
rity consequent upon visiting four or five in a night, in which he
drank liquors of different sorts and qualities, was sufficient to
produce the worst effects. Had he always steadily adhered to
Clerihugh's or Douglas's, he might have been equally fortunate
with many of his companions, who had frequented particular ta¬
verns, through several generations of possessors, seldom missing
a night's attendance, during the course of fifty years, from ill
health or any other cause.
It is a melancholy task to relate the end of Mr. Crosbie. From
one depth he floundered down to another, every step in his
conduct tending towards a climax of ruin. Infatuation and
despair led him on,—disrespect and degradation followed him.
When he had reached what might be called the goal of his fate,
he found himself deserted by all whom he had ever loved or
cherished, and almost destitute of a single attendant to administer
to him the necessaries of life. Bound by weakness and disease
to an uneasy pallet, in the garret of his former mansion, he
lingered out the last weeks of life in pain, want, and sickness.
So completely was he forsaken by every friend, that not one
was by at the last scene to close his eyes or carry him to the
grave. Though almost incredible, it is absolutely true, that he
was buried by a few unconcerned strangers, gathered from the
street; and this happened in the very spot where he had been
known all his life, in the immediate neighbourhood of hundreds
who had known, loved, and admired him for many years. He
died on the 25th of February 1785.
Driver.—Mr. Crosbie's clerk was a person named Robert
H , whose character and propensities agreed singularly well
with those of Mr. Pleydelfs dependant, Driver. He was himself
a practitioner before the courts, of the meaner description, and
is remembered by many who were acquainted with the public
characters of Edinburgh, towards the end of last century. He
was frequently to be seen in the forenoon, scouring the closes
of the High Street, or parading the Parliament Square; some¬
times seizing his legal friends by the button, and dragging them
about in the capacity of listeners, with an air and manner of as
great importance as if he had been up to the very pen in his ear
in business.
2\0
GUY MANNERING.
He was a pimpled, ill-shaven, smart-speaking, clever-looking
fellow, usually dressed in grey under-garments, an old hat nearly
brushed to death, and a black coat, of a fashion at least in the
seventh year of its age, scrupulously buttoned up to his chin. It
was in his latter and more unfortunate years that he had become
thus slovenly. A legal gentleman, who gives us information
concerning him, recollects when he was nearly the greatest fop
in Edinburgh—being powdered in the highest style of fashion,
wearing two gold watches, and having the collar of his coat
adorned with a beautiful loop of the same metal. After losing
the protection of Mr. Crosbie, he had fallen out of all regular
means of livelihood; and unfortunately acquiring an uncontrol-
able propensity for social enjoyments, like the ill-fated Robert
Fergusson, with whom he had been intimately acquainted, he
became quite unsettled,—sometimes did not change his apparel
for weeks,—sat night and day in particular taverns,—and, in
short, realised what Pleydell asserted of Driver, that " sheer ale
supported him under every thing; was meat, drink, and cloth—
bed, board, and washing." In his earlier years he had been very
regular in his irregularities, and was a "complete fixture" at
John Baxter's tavern, in Craig's Close, High Street, where he
was the Falstaff of a convivial society, termed the "Eastcheap
Club." But his dignity of conduct becoming gradually dissipated
and relaxed, and there being also, perhaps, many a landlady
who might have said with Dame Quickly, " I warrant you he's
an infinite thing upon my score," he had become unfortunately
migrative and unsteady in his tap-room affections. One night he
would get drunk at the sign of the Sautwife, in the Abbeyhill,
and next morning be found tipping off a corrective dram at a
porter-house in Rose Street. Sometimes, after having made a
midnight tumble into "the Finish" in the Covenant Close, he
would, by next afternoon, have found his way (the Lord and
the policeman only knew how!) to a pie-office in the Castlehill.
It was absolutely true that he could write his papers as well
drunk as sober, asleep as awake; and the anecdote which the
facetious Pleydell narrated to ColonelMannering, in confirmation
of this miraculous faculty, is also, we are able to inform the
reader, strictly consistent in truth with an incident of real
occurrence.
H was a man rich in all sorts of humour and fine sayings.
DRIVER.
241
His conversation was dangerously delightful. Had he not unhap¬
pily fallen into debauched habits, he possessed abilities that
might have entitled him to the most enviable situations about
the Court; but, from the nature of his peculiar habits, his wit
was the only faculty he ever displayed in its full extent—pity
it was the only one that could not be exerted for his own benefit!
To have seen him set down " for a night of it" in Lucky F 's,
with a few cronies as drouthie as himself, and his Shadow (a
person who shall hereafter be brought to light), was in itself
a most exquisite treat. By the time that the injunction of " another
half-mutchkin, mistress," had been six times repeated, his lips,
his eyes, and his nose, spoke, looked, and burned wit—pure
wit! u He could not ope his mouth, but out there tlew a trope."
The very sound of his voice was in itself a waggery; the twinkle
of his eye might have toppled a whole theatre over into con¬
vulsions. He could not even spit, but he was suspected of a
witticism, and received the congratulation of a roar accordingly.
Nay, at the height of such a tide as this, he would sometimes
get the credit of Butler himself for an accidental scratch of his
head.
This man, wretched as he eventually was, possessed a perfect
knowledge of the law of Scotland, besides a great degree of
professional cleverness ; and, what with his experience under
Mr. Crosbie, and his having been so long a hanger-on of the
Court, was considered one of the best agents that could be
employed in almost any class of cases. It is thought by many
of his survivors, that, if his talents had been backed by steadiness
of application, he might have attained to very considerable emi¬
nence. At least, it has been observed, that many of his con¬
temporaries, who had not half of his abilities, by means of
better conduct and greater perseverance, have risen to enviable
distinction. Mr. Crosbie always put great reliance in him, and
sometimes intrusted him with important business ; and H
has even been seen to destroy a paper of Mr. Crosbie's writing,
and draw up a better himself, without incurring the displeasure
which such an act of disrespect seemed to deserve. The highest
compliment, however, that could be paid to Mr. H.'s abilities,
was the saying ot an old man, named Nicol,* a native of that
* The Peter Peebles of " Rcdgaimtlet.1'
10
242
GUY MANNERING.
litigious kingdom, Fife, who, for a long course of years, pes-^
tered the Court, in forma pauperis, with a process about a dung¬
hill, and who at length died in Cupar jail—where he had been
disposed, for some small debt, by a friend, just, as was asserted,
to keep him out of harm's way. Old John used to treat H
in Johnnie Dowie's, and get, as he said, the law out o' him for
the matter of a dram. He declared that " he would not give
H 's drunken glour at a paper for the serious opinions of
the haill bench !"
Sunday was wont to be a very precious day to H ,—far
too good to be lost in idle dram-drinking at home. On Satur¬
day nights he generally made a point of insuring stock to the
amount of half-a-crown in his . landlady's hands, and proposed
a tour of jollity for next morning to a few of his companions-
These were, for the most part, poor devils like himself, who,
with few lucid intervals of sobriety or affluence—equally des¬
titute of industry, prudence, and care for the opinion of the
world—contrive to fight, drink, and roar their way through a
desperate existence, in spite of the devil, their washerwoman,
and the small-debt-court—perhaps even receiving Christian bu¬
rial at last like the rest of their species. With one or two such
companions as these, H would issue of a Sunday morning
through the Watergate, on an expedition to Newhaven, Dud-
dingstone, Portobello, or some such guzzling retreat, — the
termination of their walk being generally determined by the
consideration of where they might have the best drink, the
longest credit, or where they had already least debt. Then
was it most delightful to observe by what a special act of Pro¬
vidence they would alight upon " the last rizzer'd haddock in the
house," or " the only hundred oysters that was to be got in the
townand how gloriously they would bouse away their money,
their credit, and their senses, till, finally, after uttering, for the
thousand and first time, all their standard Parliament-House
jokes—after quarrelling with the landlord, and flattering the more
susceptible landlady up to the stricking-place of " a last gill,"—
they would reel away home, in full enjoyment of that glory
which, according to Robert Burns, is superior to the glory of
even kings!
Nevertheless, H was not utterly given up to Sunday de¬
bauches, nor was he destitute of a sense of religion. He made
MR. H.'S SHADOW.
243
a point of always going to church on rainy Sundays—that is to
say, when his neckcloth happened to be in its honey-moon, and
the button-moulds of his vestments did not chance to be beyond
their first phase. He was not, therefore, very-consistent in his
devotional sentiments and observances ; for the weather shared
with his tailor the credit of determining him in all such matters.
He was like Berwick smacks of old, which only sailed, " wind
and weather permitting." When, however, the day was fa¬
vourably bad, he would proceed to the High Church of St. Giles
(where, excepting on days of General assembly, there are
usually enow of empty seats for an army), and, on observing that
the Lords of Session had not chosen to hold any sederunt that day,
he would pop into their pew. In this conspicuous seat, which
he perhaps considered a sort of common property of the Col¬
lege of Justice, he would look wonderfully at his ease, with one
threadbare arm lolling carelessly over the velvet-cushioned gal¬
lery, while in the other hand he held his mother's old black
pocket-bible—a relic which he had contrived to preserve for
an incredible number of years, through a thousand miraculous
escapades from lodgings where he was insolvent, in memory of
a venerable relation, whom he had never forgot, though obli¬
vious of every other earthly regard besides.
Mr. H—'s Shadow, whom we have already mentioned, how¬
ever unsubstantial he may seem from his sobriquet, was a real
person, and more properly entitled Mr. Nimmo. He had long
been a dependant of H—'s, whence he derived this strange de¬
signation. Little more than the shadow of a recollection of him
remains as materiel for description. He bore somewhat of the
same relation to his principal which Silence bears to Shallow,
in Henry IV.,—that is, he was an exaggerated specimen of the
same species, and exhibited the peculiarities of H—'s habits and
character in a more advanced stage.
Besides serving Mr. H— in the character of clerk or ama¬
nuensis, he used to dangle at his elbow on all occasions, swear
religiously to all his charges, and show the way in laughing at
all his jokes. He was so clever in the use of his pen in tran¬
scription, that his hand could travel over a sheet at the rate of
eleven knots an hour, and this whether drunk or sober, asleep or
awake. Death itself could scarcely have chilled his energies,
and it was one of his favourite jokes, in vaunting of the latter
16 *
'244
GUY MANNERING.
miraculous faculty, to declare that he intended to delay writing
his will till after his decease, when he would guide himself in
the disposal of his legacies by the behaviour of his relations. We
do not question his abilities for such a task; but one might have
had a pretty good guess, from Nimmo's appearance, that he
would scarcely ever find occasion, either before or after death,
to exercise them.
H—continued a debauched course of life till the year 1808,
when his constitution became so shattered, that he was in a great
measure unfitted for business or for intercourse with society.
Towards the end of his life, his habits had become still more ir¬
regular than before, and he seemed to hasten faster and faster as
he went on to destruction, like the meteor, whose motion across the
sky seems to increase in rapidity the moment before extinction.
After the incontestible character of the greatest wit and the utmost
cleverness had been awarded to him,—after he had spent so
much money and constitution in endeavouring to render his
companions happy,—that some of them, more grateful or more
drunken than the rest, actually confessed him to be " a devilish
good-natured foolish sort of fellow,"—after he had, like certain
Scottish poets, almost drunk himself into the character of a
genius,—it came to pass that—he died. A mere pot-house re¬
veller like him is no more missed in the world of life than a
sparrow or a bishop. There was no one to sorrow for his loss—
no one to regret his absence—save those whose friendship is
worse than indifference. It never was very distinctly known
how or where he died. It was alone recorded of him, as of the
antediluvian patriarchs, that he died. As his life had become of
no importance, so his death produced little remark and less
sorrow.
Perhaps more has been said here concerning the original
Driver, than the comparative insignificance of the character, as
it stands in the novel, can well bear out. But when it is con¬
sidered, that we are illustrating one of the finest pieces of the
author's writings, detailing the traits of a man whose life would
independently be very interesting, and, perhaps, if we might be
allowed so far to flatter ourselves, filling up the shadowing out¬
line of a portrait which the original artist has left unfinished
and neglected, we do not altogether regret a space among these
anecdotes so interestingly occupied. Edinburgh once abounded
PUBLIC HOUSES.
245
and perhaps still abounds in characters like Pleydell, H ,
and Pat Nimmo. The retainers of the law in our own day,
differ considerably from their predecessors who roared away
existence so gloriously in Clerihugh's and Lucky Wood's. But
still, it is more in manner than in feature that they are changed.
" The men have been metamorphosed according to the age.
The steady, stanch bacchanalism of those times, which would
prompt men to sit night and day, holding convivial orgies in the
profundities of the High Street, and losing all bare recollections
of business and daylight in the glorious jollities of high Jenks,
have suffered a dreadful defalcation in the progress which civi¬
lization and refinement have made in the present attenuated
age. The day of the Lucky Woods' and the Lucky Finlaysons
are gone, and the Cowgate can no more produce such writers.
The present "public house," in that street, is a mean boxed,
sanded, uncomfortable place, compared with the couthie, bac¬
chanalian den, from whence issued Driver " his mouth still
greasy with mutton pies, and the last draught yet unsubsided 011
the upper lip." There now exist few of those eddy corners, re¬
tired from the main stream of dissipation, round whose small
circles, a calm, sober, seasoned, sterling drinker like Driver,
could ride at convenient anchor, enjoying the otiumcum dig-
nitate, secure from the rougher blasts of the hurricane.
There still, in fact, remains one or two taverns of ancient and
established reputation, deeply hidden in the impervious and the
impenetrable wynds of the old town, and only known and fre¬
quented by such of those veteran, true-blue, last century cha¬
racters, which still survive, unburied, in this degenerated capital,
to dignify its streets with the ivory-headed cane, the buckled
' breeks,' and the stately strut of A. D. 1780.
To some of our readers, it may still be palateable to learn
' that genuine tippenny,' the liquor on which our simple an¬
cestors used to fuddle for a groat, is still secretly sold to a few
choice veteran spirits of the above cut, who hold their nocturnal
orgies in the back slums of Halkerston's wynd. But alas! how
perishable are all human institutions! these antiquated temples
of fun and frolic that have so long eluded the devastating scythe
of time, like ruins in the desert, to tell the tale of ages long gone
by, are fast dying out; or what is nearly the same, assuming new
forms, in compliance with modern innovation. What inhabitant
guy mannering.
of ' auld Reekie1 has not heard of the venerable house in Lib-
berton's wynd so long kept by that kindliest of landlords, good
old Johnnie Dowie; where Fergusson, H , Crosbie, Burns
and Lord Gardenstone, spent so many nights of social delight.
O tempora f its present anti-gothic possessors have lighted it
with gas, and gilt its sign-board! The room termed the coffin,
in which Burns wrote " Willie brewed a peck o'maut" and
scribbled verses on the walls, they have covered over with green
cloth, and given it a new table!'
Dandje Dinmont.—Perhaps the Author of Waverley has no
where so completely given the effect of reality to his portraiture
as in the case of honest Dandie Dinmont, the renowned yeoman
of Charlieshope. This personage seems to be quite familiar to
his mind, present to his eye,—domesticated in the chambers of
his fancy. The minutest motions of the farmer's body, and the
most trivial workings of his mind, are alike bright in his eye;
and so faithful a representation has been produced, that one might
almost think the author had taken his sketch by some species of
mental camera obscura, which brought the figure beneath his
pencil in all its native colours and proportions.
Tt is impossible to point out any individual of real life as the
original of this happy production. It appears to be entirely ge¬
neric—that is to say, the whole class of Liddesdale farmers is
here represented, and little more than a single thread is taken
from any single person to form the web of the character. Three
various persons have been popularly mentioned as furnishing the
author with his most distinguished traits, each of whom have
their followers and believers among the country people. It will
perhaps be possible to prove that Dandie Dinmont is a sort of
compound of all three, the ingredients being leavened and
wrought up with the general characteristic qualities of the " Lads
of Liddesdale."
Mr. Archibald Park, late of Lewinshope, near Selkirk, brother
of the celebrated Mungo Park, was the person always most
strongly insisted on as being the original of Dandie. He was a
man of prodigious strength, in stature upwards of six feet, and
every member of his body was in perfect accordance with his great
height. He completely realized the most extravagant ideas that
the poets of his country formerly entertained of the stalwart Bor-
DAND1E DINMONT.
247
derers; aud his achievements " by flood and field," in the violent
exercises and sports of his profession, came fully up to those of
the most distinguished heroes of Border song. He had all the
careless humour and boisterous hospitality of the LiddeSdale
farmer. On the appearance of the novel, his neighbours at once
put him down as the Dandie Dinmont of real life, and he was
generally addressed by the name of his supposed archetype by
his familiar associates, so long as he remained in that part of the
country, which, however, was not long. Ilis circumstances re¬
quiring him to relinquish his farm, he obtained, by the interest
of some friends, the situation of collector of customs at Tober¬
mory, to which place he removed in 1815. Soon after he had
settled there, he was attacked by a paralytic affection, from which
he never thoroughly recovered, and he died in 1821, aged about
fifty years.
Mr. John Thorburn, of Juniper Bank, the person whom we
consider to have stood in next degree of relationship to Dinmont,
was a humorous, good-natured farmer, very fond of hunting and
fishing, and a most agreeable companion over a bottle. He was
truly an unsophisticated worthy man. Many amusing anecdotes
are told of him in the south, and numerous scenes have been
witnessed in his hospitable mansion; akin to that described in the
novel as taking place upon the return of Dandie from " Stag-
shawbank fair." The interior economy of Juniper Bank is said
to have more nearly resembled Charlieshope than did that of
Lewinshope, the residence of Mr. Pai*k. Indeed, the latter
bore no similarity whatever to Charlieshope, excepting in the
hospitality of the master and the Christian name of the mistress
of the house. Mr. Park, like his fictitious counterpart, was one
of the most generous and hearty landlords alive; and his wife,
who was a woman of highly respectable connexions, bore, like
Mrs. Dinmont, the familiar abbreviated name of Ailie.
Thorburn, like Dandie, was one before the feifteen. The ce¬
lebrated Mr. Jeffrey being retained in his cause, Thorburn, went
into Court to hear his pleading. He was delighted with the ta¬
lents and oratory of his advocate; and, on coming out, observed
to his friends, " Od he's an awfu' body yon; he said things that I
never could hae thought o' mysel'."
Mr. James Davidson of Hindlee, another honest south-country
farmer, was pointed out as the prototype of Dandie Dinmont.
•248
GUY MANNERING.
This gentleman used to breed numerous families of terriers, to
which he gave the names of Pepper and Mustard, in all their va¬
rieties of Auld and Young, Big and Little; and it was this com¬
munity of designation in the dogs of the two personages, rather
than any particular similarity in the manners or characters of
themselves, that gave credit to the conjecture of Mr. Davidson's
friends.
It will appear, from these notices, that no individual has sat
for the portrait of Dinmont, but that it has been painted from
indiscriminate recollections of various Border store-farmers.
Dominie Sampson,—There are few of our originals in whom
we can exhibit such precise points of coincident resemblance
between the real and fictitious character, as in him whom we
now assign as the prototype of Dominie Sampson. The person
of real existence also possesses the singular recommendation of
presenting more dignilied and admirable characteristics, in their
plainunvarnished detail, than the ridiculous caricature produced
in " Guy Mannering," though it be drawn by an author whose
elegant imagination has often exalted, but seldom debased, the
materials to which he has condescended to be indebted.
Mr. James Sanson was the son of James Sanson, tacksman of
Birkhillside Mill, situated in the parish of Legerwood, in Ber¬
wickshire. After getting the rudiments of his education at a
country-school, he went to the University of Edinburgh, and,
at a subsequent period, completed his probationary studies at
that of Glasgow. At these colleges he made great proficiency
in the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages, and became deeply
immersed in the depths of philosophy and theology, of which, as
with Dominie Sampson, the more abstruse and neglected
branches were his favourite subjects of application. He was a
close, incessant student; and, in the families where he afterwards
resided as tutor, all his leisure moments were devoted to the pur¬
suits of literature. Even his hours of relaxation and walking
were not exempted, in the exceeding earnestness of his solici¬
tude. After going through his probationary trials before the
presbytery, he became an acceptable—even an admired preacher,
—and was frequently employed in assisting the clergymen of the
neighbourhood.
From the narrow circumstances of his father, he was obliged
DOMINIE SAMPSON.
249
early in life to become a tutor. Into whose family he first en¬
tered is unknown. However, in this humble situation, owing pro¬
bably to the parsimonious economy to which he had been accus¬
tomed in his father's house, he in a short time saved the sum of
twenty-five pounds—a little fortune in those days to a youth of
Mr. Sanson's habits.
With this money he determined upon a pedestrian excursion
into England, for which he was excellently qualified from his un¬
common strength and undaunted resolution. After journeying
over a great part of the sister kingdom, he came to Harwich,
where a sight of the passage-boats to Holland, and the cheap¬
ness of the fare, induced him to take a trip to the Continent. How
he was supported during his peregrinations was never certainly
discovered; but he actually travelled over the greater part ol
the Netherlands, besides a considerable portion of Germany, and
spent only about the third part of his twenty-five pounds. He
always kept a profound silence upon the subject himself; but it
is conjectured, with great probability, that in the Low Countries
he had recourse to convents, where the monks were ever ready
to do acts of kindness to men of such learning as Sanson would
appear to them to be. Perhaps he procured the means of sub¬
sistence by the expedients which the celebrated Goldsmith is said
to have practised in his Continental wanderings, and made the
disputation of the morning supply the dinner of the day.
After his return from the Continent, about 1784, he entered
the family of the Rev. Laurence Johnstone, of Earlston, where
he continued some time, partly employed in the education of
his children, and giving occasional assistance in his public minis¬
terial duty. From this situation he removed to the house of
Mr. Thomas Scott, uncle of the celebrated Sir Walter, whose fa¬
mily then resided at Ellieston, in the county of Roxburgh. W hile
superintending this gentleman's children, he was appointed to a
higher duty—the charge of Carlenridge Chapel, in the parish
of Hawick, which he performed regularly every Sunday, at the
same time that he attended the education of the family through
the week. We may safely conjecture that it was at this parti¬
cular period of his life he first was honoured with the title oi
Dominie Sanson.
He was next employed by the Earl of Hopetoun, as chaplain
250
GUY MANNERING.
to that nobleman's tenants at Leadhills, where, with an admirable,
but unfortunate tenaciousness of duty, he patiently continued to
exercise his honourable calling, to the irreparable destruction of
his own health. The atmosphere being tainted with the na¬
tural effluvia of the noxious mineral which was the staple pro¬
duction of the place, though incapable of influencing the health
of those who had been accustomed to it from their infancy, had
soon a fatal effect upon the life of poor Sanson. The first cala¬
mitous consequence that befel him was the loss of his teeth; next
he became totally blind; and, last of all, to complete the sacri¬
fice, the insalubrious air extinguished the principle of life. Thus
did this worthy man, though conscious of the fate that awaited
him, choose rather to encounter the last enemy of our nature, than
relinquish what he considered a sacred duty. Strange that one,
whose conduct through life was every way so worthy of the
esteem and gratitude of mankind—whose death would not have
disgraced the devotion of a primitive martyr—should, by means
of a few less dignified peculiarities, have eventually conferred the
character of perfection on a work of humour, and, in a cari¬
catured exhibition, supplied attractions, nearly unparalleled, to
innumerable theatres ! .
Mr. James Sanson was of the greatest stature—near six feet
high, and otherwise proportionably enormous. His person was
coarse, his limbs large, and his manners awkward; so that,
while people admired the simplicity and innocence of his cha¬
racter, they could not help smiling at the clumsiness of his
motions and the rudeness of his address. His soul was pure
and untainted—the seat of many manly and amiable virtues. He
was ever faithful in his duty, both as a preacher and a tutor,
warmly attached to the interests of the family in which he re¬
sided, and gentle in the instruction of his pupils. As a preacher,
though his manner in his public exhibitions, no less than in pri¬
vate society, was not in his favour, he was well received by every
class of hearers. His discourses were the well-digested pro¬
ductions of a laborious mind; and his sentiments seldom failed
to he expressed with the utmost beauty and elegance of diction.
Meg Merrilies.—The original of this character has been al¬
ready pointed out and described in various publications. A
MEG MERRILIES.
251
desire of presenting, in this work, as much original matter as
possible, will induce us to be very brief in our notice of Jean
Gordon.
It is impossible to specify the exact date of her nativity,
though it probably was about the year 1670. She was born
at Kirk-Yetholm, in Roxburghshire, the metropolis of the Scot¬
tish gypsies, and was married to a gypsy chief, named Patrick
Faa, by whom she had ten or twelve children.
In the year 1714, one of Jean's sons, named Alexander Faa,
was murdered by another gypsy, named Robert Johnston, who
escaped the pursuit of justice for nearly ten years, but was then
taken and indicted by his Majesty's Advocate for the crime. He
was sentenced to be executed, but escaped from prison. It was
easier, however, to escape the grasp of justice than to elude
the wide-spread talons of gypsy vengeance. Jean Gordon traced
the murderer like a blood-hound, followed him to Holland, and
from thence to Ireland, where she had him seized, and brought
him back to Jedburgh. Here she obtained the full reward of her
toils, by having the satisfaction of seeing him hanged on the
Hallowhill. Some time afterwards, Jean being at Sourhope, a
sheep-farm on Rowmont-water, the goodman said to her, " Weel,
Jean, ye hae got Rob Johnston hanged at last, and out o' the
way?" "Ay, gudeman," replied Jean, lifting up her apron by
the two corners, " and a' that fu' o' goud hasna done't."—Jean
Gordon's " apron fu' o' gowd " may remind some of our readers
of Meg Merrilies' poke of jewels ; and indeed the whole trans¬
action forcibly recalls the stern picture of that intrepid heroine.
The circumstance in " Guy Mannering," of Rrown being in¬
debted to Meg Merrilies for lodgings and protection, when he
lost his way near Derncleugh, finds a remarkably precise coun¬
terpart in an anecdote related of Jean Gordon A farmer with
whom she had formerly been on good terms, though their ac¬
quaintance had been interrupted for several years, lost his way,
and was benighted among the mountains of Cheviot. A light
glimmering through the hole of a desolate barn, that had sur¬
vived the farmhouse to which it once belonged, guided him to a
place of shelter. He knocked at the door, and it was imme¬
diately opened by Jean Gordon. To meet with such a character
in so solitary a place, and probably at no great distance from her
clan, was a terrible surprise to the honest man, whose rent.
25-2
GUY MANNERING.
to lose which would have been ruin to him, was about his per¬
son. Jean set up a shout of joyful recognition, forced the farmer
to dismount, and, in the zeal of her kindness, hauled him into
the barn. Great preparations were making for supper, which
the gudeman of Lochside, to increase his anxiety, observed was
calculated for at least a dozen of guests. Jean soon left him no
doubt upon the subject, but inquired what money he had about
him, and made earnest request to be made his pursekeeper for
the night, as the "bairns" would soon be home. The poor
farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and surren¬
dered his gold to Jean's custody. She made him put a few shil¬
lings in his pocket, observing, it would excite suspicion were he
found travelling altogether pennyless. This arrangement being
made, the farmer lay down on a sort of shake-down, upon some
straw, but, as will easily be believed, slept not. • About midnight
the gang returned with various articles of plunder, and talked
over their exploits in language that made the farmer tremble.
They were not long in?discovering their guest, and demanded of
Jean whom she had there? " E'en the winsome gudeman o'
Lochside, poor body," replied Jean; "he's been at Newcastle
seeking for siller to pay his rent, honest man, but de'il-be-licket
he's been able to gather in, and sae he's gaun e'en hame wi' a
toom purse and a sair heart." "That may be, Jean," replied
one of the banditti, " but we maun ripe his pouches a bit, and
see if it be true or no." Jean set up her throat in exclamation
against this breach of hospitality, but without producing any
change in their determination. The farmer soon heard their
stifled whispers and light steps by his bed-side, and undei^stood
they were rummaging his clothes. When they found the money
which the providence of Jean Gordon had made him retain, they
held a consultation if they should take it or no; but the smallness
of the booty, and the vehemence of Jean's remonstrances, de¬
termined them in the negative. They caroused and went to
rest. So soon as day dawned, Jean roused her guest, produced
his horse, which she had accommodated behind the halian, and
guided him for some miles till he was on the high-road to Loch¬
side. She then restored his whole property, nor could his ear¬
nest intreaties prevail on her to accept so much as a single gui¬
nea.
It is related that all Jean's sons were condemned to die at
MEG MERRILIES.
253
Jedburgh on the same day. It is said the jury were equally
divided; but a friend to justice, who had slept during the dis¬
cussion, waked suddenly, and gave his word for condemnation,
in the emphatic words, " Hang them a\" Jean was present,
and only said, " The Lord help the innocent in a day like this!"
Her own death was accompanied with circumstances of brutal
outrage, of which Jean was in many respects wholly undeserving.
Jean had, among other demerits or merits, that of being a stanch
Jacobite. She chanced to be at Carlisle upon a fair or market-
day, soon after the year 1746, where she gave vent to her po¬
litical partiality, to the great offence of the rabble of that city.
Being zealous of their loyalty, when there was no danger, in
proportion to the tameness with which they surrendered to the
Highlanders in 1745, they inflicted upon poor Jean Gordon no
slighter penalty than that of ducking her to death in the Eden.
It w as an operation of some time; for Jean Gordon was a stout
woman, and, struggling hard with her murderers, often got her
head above water, and, while she had voice left, continued to
exclaim, at such intervals, "Charlie yet! Charlie yet!"
Her propensities were exactly the same as those of the fictitious
character of Meg Merrilies. She possessed the same virtue of
fidelity,—spoke the same language,—and in appearance there
was little difference; yet Madge Gordon, her grand-daughter,
was said to have had the same resemblance. She was de¬
scended from the Faas by the mother's side, and was married
to a Young. She had a large aquiline nose—penetrating eyes,
even in her old age—bushy hair, that hung around her shoulders
from beneath a gypsey bonnet of straw—a short cloak, of a
peculiar fashion, and a long staff, nearly as tall as herself.
When she spoke vehemently (for she had many complaints),
she used to strike her staff upon the floor, and throw herself
into an attitude which it was impossible to regard with indif¬
ference.
From these traits of the manners of Jean and Madge Gordon,
it may be perceived that it would be difficult to determine which
of the two Meg Merrilies was intended for; it may therefore,
without injustice, be divided between both. So that if Jean
was the prototype of her character, it is very probable that
Madge must have sat to the author of " Guy Mannering," as
the representative of her person.
254
THE ANTIQUARY.
To the author whose duty leads him so low in the scale of
nature, that the manners and the miseries of a vicious and
insubordinate race, prominent in hideous circumstances of un¬
varnished reality, are all he is permitted to record, it must ever
be gratifying to find traits of such fine enthusiasm, such devoted
fidelity, as the conduct of Jean Gordon exhibits in the foregoing
incidents. Tkey stand out with a delightful and luminous effect
from the gloomy canvass of guilt, atoning for its errors and
brightening its darkness. To trace further, as others have
done, the disgusting peculiarities of a people so abandoned to
all sense of moral propriety, would only serve to destroy the
effect already created by the redeeming characters of Jean
Gordon and her nobler sister, and more extensively to disgrace
the general respectability of human nature.
THE ANTIQUARY.
A conjecture exists, that a great part of the Antiquary is
founded on facts. How far this may be the case, we confess
ourselves unable to determine. The original of the Antiquary
himself, is reported to have been a minister in the neighbourhood
of Arbroath. A young gentleman who was intimate with his
niece, the Mary M'lntyre of the novel, showed a sermon in ma¬
nuscript of the gentleman, some years ago, and mentioned his
name, which has been forgotten. The coast of the part of Scot¬
land resembles that very nearly, which is described as being the
neighbourhood of Fairport—is much indented with caves, and
equally dangerous in the event of high tides, for such as (like
Sir Arthur Wardour and his daughter) attempt to pass along
the shores. The fraud of Dousterswivel is said to have been a
real occurrence in the case of some silver mines attempted to be
set on foot near Innerleithen by the Earl of T—. The next char
racter stands better identified.
Andrew Gemmels.—This gaberlunzie furnished the author of
the Scottish national tales, with the idea of one of his happiest
creatures. Edie Ochiltree, is, indeed, a much more elevated
and amiable person than the eccentric wanderer here produced
as his counterpart; but the latter (whom we cannot profess, how-
EDIE OCHILTREE.
255
ever, to delineate at present with much nicety or distinctness)
certainly possessed some of Edie's most remarkable and agree¬
able qualities, and, if not the sole original, at least probably
suggested some of the most characteristic features of that very
prepossessing and poetical badgeman.
Andrew Gemmels was well known over all the Border districts
as a wandering beggar or gaberlunzie, for the greater part of
half a century. He had been a soldier in his youth; and his en¬
tertaining stories of his campaigns, and the adventures he had
encountered in foreign countries, united with his shrewdness,
drollery, and other agreeable qualities, rendered him a general
favourite, and secured him a cordial welcome and free quarters
at every shepherd's cot or farm-shading that lay in the range
of his extensive wanderings. " Among his other places of resort
in Teviotdale, * Andrew regularly visited at my grandfather's.
It was one of his ' Saturday night houses,' as he called them,
where he always staid over the Sunday, and sometimes longer.
He usually put up his horse on his arrival, without the formality
of asking quarters, and had a straw bed made up for him in the
byre, claiming it rather as his acknowledged due and privilege
than as a boon of charity. He preferred sleeping in an out¬
house, and, if possible, in one where cattle or horses were kept.
My grandfather who was an old fashioned farmer in a remote
situation, was exceedingly fond of his company, and, though a
very devout man and strict Cameronian, and occasionally some¬
what scandalized at Andrew's rough and irreverent style of
language, was nevertheless so much attracted by his conver¬
sation, that he seldom failed to spend the evenings of his sojourn
in listening to his entertaining narrations and' auld warld stories,'
with the old shepherds, hinds, and children seated around them
beside the blazing turf ingle in the ' farmer's ha'.' These con¬
versations took sometimes a polemical turn, and in that case not
unfrequently ended in a violent dispute; my ancestor's hot and
impatient temper blazing forth in collision with the dry and sar¬
castic humour of his ragged guest. Andrew was never known to
yield his point on these occasions; but he usually had the address,
when matters grew too serious, to give the conversation a more
pleasant turn, by some droll remark or unexpected stroke of
* From the Edinburgh Magazine, 1817.
'256
TIIE ANTIQUARY.
humour, which convulsed the rustic group, and the graver good
man himself, with unfailing and irresistible merriment.
" Though free, however, and unceremonious, Andrew was
never burthensome or indiscreet in his visits; returning only
once or twice a year, and generally after pretty regular intervals.
He evidently appeared to prosper in his calling; for, though
hung round with rags of every shape and hue, he commonly
possessed a good horse, and used to attend the country fairs and
race-courses, where he would bet and dispute with the country
lairds and gentry, with the most independent and resolute per¬
tinacity. He allowed that begging had been a good trade in
his time, but used to complain sadly, in his latter days, that
times were daily growing worse. My father remembers seeing
Gemmels travelling about on a blood mare, with a foal after
her, and a gold watch in his pocket. On one occasion, at Ru¬
therford, in Teviotdale, he had dropped a clue of yarn, and Mr.
Mather, his host, finding him rummaging for it, assisted in the
search, and, having got hold of it, persisted, notwithstanding
Andrew's opposition, in unrolling the yarn till he came to the
kernel, which, much to his surprise and amusement, he found
to consist of about twenty guineas of gold.
" Many curious anecdotes of Andrew's sarcastic wit and
eccentric manners are current in the Borders ; and both his
character and personal appearance must have been familiar to
many individuals still alive. The following is given, as com¬
monly related with much good humour by the late Mr. Dodds
of the War Office, the person to whom it chiefly refers. An¬
drew happened to be present at a fair or market, somewhere in
Teviotdale (St. Boswell's), where Dodds, at that time a non¬
commissioned officer in His Majesty's service, happened also to
be with a military party recruiting. It was some time during
the American war, when they were beating up eagerly for fresh
men, to teach passive obedience to the obdurate and ill-man¬
nered Columbians, and it was then the practice for recruiting
Serjeants, after parading for a due space, with all the warlike
pageantry of drums, trumpets, ' glancing blades and gay cock¬
ades,' to declaim in heroic strains of the delights of a soldier's
life—of glory, patriotism, plunder—the prospect of promotion
for the bold and young, and his Majesty's munificent pension
for the old and the wounded. Dodds, who was a man of much
EDIE OCHILTREE.
natural talent, and whose abilities afterwards raised him to a
honourable rank and independent fortune, had made one of his
most brilliant speeches on this occasion; a crowd of ardent and
active rustics were standing round, gaping with admiration at
the imposing mien, and kindling at the heroic eloquence of the
manly soldier, whom many of them had known a few years be¬
fore as a rude tailor boy; the Serjeant himself already leading,
in idea, a score of new recruits, had just concluded, in a strain
of more than usual elevation, his oration in praise of the mili¬
tary profession, when Gemmels, who, in tattered guise, was
standing close behind, reared aloft his meal-pokes on the end
of his kent or pike-staff, and exclaimed with a tone and aspect
of profound derision, ' behold the end o't!' The contrast was
irresistible—the beau ideal of Serjeant Dodds, and the ragged
reality of Andrew Gemmels, were sufficiently striking, that the
former, with his red-coat followers, beat a retreat in some con¬
fusion, amidst the loud and universal laughter of the surround¬
ing multitude.
" Another time, Andrew went to visit one of his patrons, a
poor Scotch laird, who had recently erected an expensive and
fantastic mansion, of which he was very vain, and which but ill
corresponded with his rank or his resources. The beggar was
standing leaning over his pike-staff, and looking very attentively
at the edifice, when the laird came forth and accosted him :
i Well, Andrew, you're admiring our handy work here? ' At-
weel am I, sir,' ' And what think ye o' them, Andrew ?' ' I
just think ye hae thrawn away twa bonnie estates, and built a
gowk's nest.'" *
Gemmels died in the year 1793, at Roxburgh Newtown,
near Kelso. A lady who was residing there at that time, and
who witnessed his latter days, furnished the following particu¬
lars, which are here transferred in her own simple and ex¬
pressive words:—
"He came to Newtown at that time in a very weakly con¬
dition; being, according to his own account, 105 years of age.
The conduct of some of the country folks towards poor Andrew
in his declining state, was not what it should have been; pro¬
bably most of his old patrons had died out, and their more
genteel descendants disliked to be fashed and burthened with a
dying beggar; so every one handed him over to his next neigh-
17
258
THE ANTIQUARY.
bour ; and lie was hurried from Selkirk to Newtown, a distance
of sixteen miles, in three days. He was brought in a cart and
laid down at Mr. R 's byre door, but we never knew by
whom. He was taken in, and laid as usual on his truss of straw.
When we spoke of making up a bed for him, he got into a
rage, and swore (as well as he was able to speak ) ' that many
clever fellows had died in the field with their hair frozen to the
ground—and would he submit to die in any of our beds?'
He did not refuse a little whiskey, however, now and then; for
it was but cold, in the spring, lying in an out-house among
straw. A friend who was along with me, urged him to tell
what cash he had about him, ' As you know,' said she, ' it has
been reported that you have money.' Andrew replied, with a
look of derision, 'Bow, wow, wow, woman! women folk are
aye fashing theirsels aboot what they hae nae business wi'.'
He at length told us he had changed a note at Selkirk, and paid
six shillings for a pair of shoes which he had on him : but not
a silver coin was found in all his duddy doublets, and many
kind of odd like pouch he had : in one of them was sixpence
worth of halfpence, and two combs for his silver locks, which
were beautiful. His set of teeth, which he had got in his 101st
year, were very white. What was remarkable, notwithstanding
all the rags he had flapping about him, he was particularly clean
in his old halesome looking person. He at last allowed the ser¬
vants to strip off his rags and lay him on a bed, which was
made up for him in a cart, in the byre. After he was laid com¬
fortably, he often prayed and to good purpose; but if the ser¬
vants did»not feed him right (for he could not lift a spoon to his
mouth for several days before his death), he would give them a
passing bann. He lived nine days with us, and continued quite
sensible until the hour of his decease. Mr. R—— got him de¬
cently buried. Old Jemmy Jack, with his muckle nose, got his
shoes for digging his grave in Roxburgh kirk-yard. Andrew
was well known through all this country and great part of
Northumberland. I suppose he was originally from the west
country, but cannot speak with certainty as to that; it was,
however, commonly reported that he had a nephew or some
near relation in the west, who possessed a farm which Andrew
had stocked for him from the profits of his begging."
OLDBUCK.
•259
Oldbuck. The antiquary, Oldbuck, is more of an unique
personage, sui generis, who might have belonged to any
country, and whose feelings the bulk of readers do not clearly
comprehend. The chief interest, however, as in Guy Manner-
ing, lies in the humbler characters, drawn from the lower ranks
of life. In an age which borders so closely on the present, it
was difficult to find those rude and picturesque features which
formerly rendered the manners of every class almost poetical.
The remains of these, of wild enterprize, of strong and untamed
passions, and of a varied mode of existence, are found almost
only in two classes, the beggar and the fisher, which the au¬
thor, with that tact which could not desert him on such a sub¬
ject, makes his prominent personages. The following picture
of one who places the glory of his life in collecting unique
copies, first editions, illegible manuscripts, and black letter,
cannot fail to be recognized, by the truly initiated, for its cha¬
racteristic truth :—
"Davy Wilson, commonly called Snuffy Davy, from his in¬
veterate addiction to black rappee, was the very prince of scouts
for searching blind alleys, cellars, and stalls, for rare volumes,
lie had the scent of a slot-hound, sir, and the snap of a bull¬
dog. He would detect you an old black-letter ballad among
the leaves of a law-paper, and find an editio princeps under
the mask of a school Corderius. Snuffy Davy bought the
'Game of Chess, 1474,' the first book ever printed in England,
from a stall in Holland, for about two groschen, or twopence
of our money. He sold it to Osborne for twenty pounds, and
as many books as came to twenty pounds more. Osborne re¬
sold this inimitable windfall to Dr. Askew for sixty guineas. 'At
Dr. Askew's sale,1 continued the old gentleman, kindling as he
spoke, ' this inestimable treasure blazed forth in its full value,
and was purchased, by royalty itself, for one hundred and se¬
venty pounds! ' Could a copy now occur, Lord only knows,1
he ejaculated, with a deep sigh and lifted-up hands, ' Lord only
knows what would be its ransom and yet it was originally se¬
cured, by skill and research, for the equivalent of twopence
sterling. Happy, thrice happy, Snuffy Davy! and blessed were
the times when thy industry could be so rewarded!"
17 *
200
IVANHOE.
IVANHOE.
The story is entirely English; and consequently no longer
possesses the charm of that sweet Doric dialect, of which even
strangers have heen made of late to feel the force and beauty.
The time is laid as far back as the reign of Richard I.—and we
suspect that the Saxons and Normans of that age are rather
less known than the Highlanders and Cameronians of the pre¬
sent. This was the great difficulty the author had to contend
writh, and the great disadvantage of the subject with which he
had to deal. Nobody now alive can have a very clear or com¬
plete conception of the actual way of life and manure d'etre of
our ancestors in the year 1194. Some of the more prominent
outlines of their chivalry, their priesthood, and their villenage,
may be known to antiquaries, or even to general readers ; but
all the filling up and details, which alone could give body and
life to the picture, have been long since effaced by some. We
have scarcely any notion, in short, of the private life and con¬
versation of any class of persons in that remote period ; and, in
fact, know less how the men and women occupied or amused
themselves—what they talked about— how they looked—or what
they habitually thought or felt, at that time in England, than we
know of what they did or thought at Rome in the time of Au¬
gustus, or at Athens in the time of Pericles. The memorials
and relics of those earlier ages and remoter nations are greatly
more abundant and more familiar to us, than of our ancestors
at the distance of seven centuries. Resides ample histories and
copious orations, we have plays, poems, and familiar letters of
the former period; while of the latter we have only some vague
chronicles, some superstitious legends, and a few fragments of
foreign romance. We scarcely know indeed what language
was then either spoken or written.
The author has done wonders with his subject; and though
we do sometimes miss those fresh and living pictures of the cha¬
racters which we know, and the nature with which we are fami¬
liar—and that high and deep interest which the home scenes
of our own times and our own people could alone generate or
IVANHOE.
261
sustain, it is impossible to deny that he has made marvellous
good use of the scanty materials at his disposal—and eked them
out both by the greatest skill and dexterity in their arrange¬
ment, and by all the resources that original genius could render
subservient to such a design. For this purpose he has laid his
scene in a period when the rivalry of the victorious Norman
and the conquered Saxon had not been finally composed ; and
when the courtly petulance, and chivalrous and military pride
of the one race might yet be set in splendid opposition to the
manly steadiness and honest but homely simplicity of the other:
and has at the same time given an air both of dignity and of
reality to his story, by bringing in the personal prowess of Coeur
de Lion himself, and other persons of historical fame, to assist
in its development.—Though reduced in a great measure to the
vulgaOstaple of armed knights and jolly friars or woodsmen,
imprisoned damsels, lawless barons, collared serfs, and house¬
hold fools—he has made such admirable use of his great ta¬
lents for description, and invested those traditional and theatrical
persons with so much of the feelings and humours that are of
all ages and all countries, that we frequently cease to regard
them—as it is generally right to regard them—as parts of a
fantastical pageant; and are often brought to consider the
knights who joust in panoply in the lists, and the foresters who
shoot deer with arrows, and plunder travellers in the woods, as
real individuals, with hearts of flesh and blood beating in their
bosoms like our own—actual existences, in short, into whose
views we may reasonably enter, and with whose emotions we
are bound to sympathize. To all this he has added, out of the
prodigality of his high and inventive genius, the grace and the
interest of some lofty and sweet and supeidiuman characters—
for which, though evidently fictitious, and unnatural in any stage
of society, the remoteness of the scene on which they are intro¬
duced may serve as an apology—if they could need any other
than what they bring along with them in their own sublimity
and beauty.
In comparing this work, then, with the preceding productions
of the same master-hand, it is impossible not to feel that we are
passing in a good degree from the reign of nature and reality,
to that of fancy and romance; and exchanging for scenes of
wonder and curiosity, those more homefelt sympathies and
2G2
IVANHOfe.
deeper touches of delight that can only be excited by the people
among whom we live, and the objects that are constantly around
us. A far greater proportion of the work is accordingly made
up of splendid descriptions of arms and dresses—moated and
massive castles—tournaments of mailed champions—solemn
feasts—formal courtesies, and other matters of external and vi¬
sible presentment, that are only entitled to such distinction as
connected with the older times, and novel by virtue of their an¬
tiquity—while the interest of the story is maintained far more by
surprising adventures and extraordinary situations, the startling
effect of exaggerated sentiments, and the strong contrast of exag¬
gerated characters, than by the sober charms of truth and rea¬
lity,—the exquisite representation of scenes with which we are
familiar, or the skilful development of affections which*we have
often experienced. - •
These bright lights and deep shadows—this succession of
brilliant pictures, addressed as often to the eye as to the ima¬
gination, and oftener to the imagination than to the heart—this
preference of striking generalities to homely details, all belong
more properly to the province of poetry than of prose; and
Ivanhoe accordingly seems to us much more akin to the most
splendid of modern poems, than the most interesting of mo¬
dern novels; and savours much more of the author of Mar-
mion or the Lady of the Lake, than that ofWaverley or Old
Mortality.
The story opens, after some historical notices of great vigour
and accuracy, with a picture or two of Cedric's domestics tend¬
ing his herd of swine in a forest adjoining his domain in the
central districts of Yorkshire : the Fool, whose whole part is
copied with considerable boldness and success from the speci¬
mens of that character in Shakspeare, and especially from the
kind-hearted one who attended on the wanderings of the un¬
happy Lear, is described with powerful effect. The Tourna¬
ment, or Passage of Arms of Ashby," in the description of
which the author has made use of all his resources, present us
at once with a more learned and a more lively picture of that
stately and chivalrous divertisement, than is to be found in any
other writer. The meeting of the Black Knight with the Her-i
* Ivanhoe, p. 75.
ARCHERY.
•263
mit ' is also given in the very best manner of the author. No
passage in epic or dramatic poetry is more full of life, interest,
and energy, than the magnificent descriptive dialogue between
the wounded knight of Ivanhoe, and the fair Rebecca,f when
she is induced to climb up to the lofty and iron-bound window
of his prison, and to report what she could thence descry of the
tumultuous scene before her. The trial of Rebecca is set forth
learnedly and with poetical effect. The close of the dialogue
between her and the Templar4 in which he urges her to fly with
him, and offers, for her sake, to renounce all his darling and
long-cherished schemes of ambition, and to devote his life to
her happiness and honour, would, with a very little alteration,
make a more striking scene in tragedy, than any that has been
offered for the stage for more than a century. The whole strain
of it is dramatical and poetical, and the interest of the most
exalted description.
Ivanhoe is a splendid poem, and contains matter enough for
six good tragedies.
It is to be taken for granted, that the charming extracts from
" Old Plays," that are occasionally given as mottoes to this and
some of his other novels, are original compositions of the
author whose prose they garnish ; and they show that he is not
less a master of the most beautiful style of dramatic versification,
than of all the higher and more inward secrets of that for¬
gotten art.
The match of archery, at Ashby, in which the yeoman Locksley
overcomes all the antagonists whom Prince John brings up
against him, finds a parallel, and indeed it may be said a
foundation, in the ballad of "Adam Bell, Gym of the Cleugh,
and William of Cloudeslea." The story of the ballad bears,
that these " three perilous outlaws," having wrought great
devastation among the " foresters of the foe " and liege burghers
of Carlisle, while in the act of rescuing one of their companions
from prison, " fure up to London town," to crave of their
sovereign a charter of peace. This, by the intercession of the
Queen, he grants them; but no sooner is the royal word passed
for the pardon, than messengers arrive from the " north countrye "
with tidings of the deadly havock. The King happens to be quietly
* Ivankce, p. 178.
f lyauhoc, p. 326.
\ Ivannoe, p. -1.
■204
ROB ROY.
engaged in eating his dinner at the time, and is completely
thunderstruck at the intelligence, so that
" ' Take up the table,' then said he,
' For I can eat no mo.'"
He straightway assures the three offenders, that, if they do
not prevail over every one of his own bowmen, their lives shall
be forfeited.
The spirit of archery is still kept up at many places among
the Scots. It is kept up at Kilwinning. This society is very
ancient, there being evidence of its existence as far back as 1488.
This amusement is practised annually at a certain time of the
year, generally in the month of June. It is of two kinds : the
one is at a perpendicular mark called a pepingoe. The pepingoe
is a bud known in heraldry. It is on this occasion cut out in
wood, fixed on the end of a pole, and placed 120 feet high on
the steeple of the monastery. The archer who shoots down the
mark, is honoured with the title of the Captain of the PepingaL
ROB ROY.
The following interesting narrative is extracted from Colonel
Stewart's admirable work on the Highlands:—
"The father of the present Mr. Stewart ofArdvorlich knew
Rob Roy intimately, and attended his funeral in 1736—the last
at which a piper officiated in the Highlands of Perthshire. The
late Mr. Stewart of Bohallie, Mr. M'Nab of Inchewan, and several
gentlemen of my acquaintance, also knew Rob Roy and his
family. Alexander Stewart, one of his followers, afterwards
enlisted in the Black Watch. He was wounded at Pontenoy,
and discharged with a pension in 1748. Some time after this
period he was engaged by my grandmother, then a widow, as
a grieve, to direct and take charge of the farm-servants. In
this situation he proved a faithful trust-worthy servant, and
was by my father continued in his situation till his death. He
told many anecdotes of Rob Roy and his party, among whom
he was distinguished by the name of the Bailie, a title which he
ever after retained. It was before him that people were sworn
when it was necessary to bind them to secrecy.
ROB ROY.
265
" Robert Macgregor Campbell was a younger son of Donald
Macgregor ofGlengyle, in Perthshire, by a daughter of Campbell
ofGlenlyon, sister of the individual who commanded at the mas¬
sacre of Glencoe. He was born some time between 1657 and
1660, and married Helen Campbell, of the family of Glenfalloch.
As cattle was at that period the principal marketable produce of
the hills, the younger sons of gentlemen had few other means of
procuring an independent subsistence than by engaging in this
sort of traffic. At an early period Rob Roy w as one of the most
respectable and successful drovers in his district. Before the
year 1707 he had purchased of the family of Montrose the lands
of Craigrostane, on the banks ofLochlomond, and had relieved
some heavy debts on his nephew's estate of Glengyle. While
in this prosperous state, he continued respected for his honour¬
able dealings both in the Lowlands and Highlands. Previous to
the Union no cattle had been permitted to pass the English
Border. As a boon or encouragement, however, to conciliate
the people to that measure, a free intercourse was allowed. The
Marquis of Montrose, created a Duke the same year, and one
of the most zealous partizans of the Union, was the first to take
advantage of this privilege, and immediately entered into part¬
nership with Rob Roy, who was to purchase the cattle and drive
them to England for sale—the Duke and he advancing an equal
sum, 10,000 merks each (a large sum in those days, when the
price of the best ox or cow was seldom twenty shillings); all
the transactions beyond this amount to be on credit. The
purchases having been completed, Macgregor then went to
England-, but so many people had entered into a similar spe¬
culation, that the market was completely overstocked, and the
cattle sold for much less than prime cost. Macgregor returned
home, and went to the Duke to settle the account of their
partnership, and to pay the money advanced, with the deduction
of the loss. The Duke, it is said, would consent to no deduction,
but insisted on principal and interest. "In that case, my Lord,"
said Macgregor, " if these be your principles, I shall not make
it my principle to pay the interest, nor my interest the principal:
so if your Grace do not stand your share of the loss, you shall
have no money from ine." On this they separated. No settle¬
ment of accounts followed—the one insisting on retaining the
money, unless the other would consent to bear his share of the
26G
ROB ROY.
loss. Nothing decisive was done till the rebellion of 1715, when
Rob Roy 'was out,'—his nephew Glengyle commanding a
numerous body of the Macgregors, but under the control of his
uncle's superior judgment and experience. On this occasion the
Duke ofMontrose's share of the cattle speculation was expended.
The next year, his Grace took legal means to recover his money,
and got possession of the lands of Craigrostane on account of
his debt. This rendered Macgregor desperate. Determined that
his Grace should not enjoy his lands with impunity, he collected
a band of about twenty followers, declared open war against
him, and gave up his old course of regular droving—declaring
that the estate of Montrose should in future supply him with
cattle, and he would make the Duke rue the day in which he
quarrelled with him. He kept his word—and for nearly twenty
years, thatis, till the day of his death, leviedregular contributions
on the Duke and his tenants, not by nightly depredations and
robberies, but in broad day, and in a systematic manner— at
an appointed time making a complete sweep of all the cattle of a
district, always passing over those not belonging to the Duke's
estate, as well as the estates of his friends and adherents; and
having previously given notice where he was to be by a certain
day with his cattle, he was met there by people from all parts
of the country, to whom he sold them publicly. These meetings,
or trystes, as they were called, were held in different parts of
the country*, sometimes the cattle were driven south, butoftener
to the north-west, where the influence of his friend the Duke of
Argyll protected him.
" In this manner did this extraordinary man live, in open vio¬
lation and defiance of the laws, and died peaceably in his bed,
when nearly eighty years of age. His funeral was attended by
all the country round, high and low—the Duke of Montrose and
his immediate friends only excepted.
" How such things could happen, at so late a period, must
appear incredible,—and this, too, within thirty miles of the gar¬
risons of Stirling and Dumbarton, and the populous city of Glas¬
gow, and, indeed, with a small garrison stationed at Inversnaid,
in the heart of the country, and on the estate which belonged
to Macgregor, for the express purpose of checking his depreda¬
tions. The truth is, the thing could not have happened had it
not been the peculiarity of the man's character; for, with all his
ROB ROY.
267
lawless spoliations and unremitted acts of vengeance and robbery
against the Montrose family, he had not an enemy in the country
beyond the sphere of their influence. He never hurt or med¬
dled with the property of a poor man, and, as I have stated, was
always careful that his great enemy should be the principal, if
not the only sufferer. Had it been otherwise, it was quite im¬
possible that, notwithstanding all his enterprise, address, intre¬
pidity and vigilance, he could have long escaped in a populous
country, with a warlike people, well qualified to execute any
daring exploit, such as the seizure of this man, had they been
his enemies, and willing to undertake it. Instead of which, he
lived socially among them—that is, as social as an outlaw, al¬
ways under a certain degree of alarm, could do,—giving the
education of gentlemen to his sons,—frequenting the most po¬
pulous towns,—and, whether in Edinburgh, Perth, or Glasgow,
equally safe,—at the same time that he displayed great and mas¬
terly address in avoiding or calling for public notice.
" The instances of his address struck terror into the minds
of the troops, whom he often defeated and out-generalled.
One of these instances occurred in Breadalbane, in the case of
an officer and forty chosen men sent after him. The party
crossed through Glenfalloch to Tyndrum, and Macgregor, who
had correct information of all their movements, was with a party
in the immediate neighbourhood. He put himself in the disguise
of a beggar, with a bag of meal on his back (in those days alms
were always bestowed in produce),—went to the inn at Tyndrum;
where the party was quartered, walked into the kitchen with
great indifference,—and sat down among the soldiers. They
soon found the beggar a lively sarcastic fellow, when they began
to attempt some practical jokes upon him.
" He pretended to be very angry, and threatened to inform
Rob Roy, who would quickly show them they were not to give
with impunity such usage to a poor and harmless person. He
was immediately asked if he knew Rob Roy, and if he could tell
where he was ? On his answering that he knew him well, and
where he was, the sergeant informed the officer, who imme¬
diately sent for him.
" After some conversation, the beggar consented to accompany
them to Creanlarich, a few miles distant, where he said Rob Roy
and his men were, and that he believed their arms were lodged
<2(38
ROB ROY.
in one house, while they were sitting in another. He added that
Roy was very friendly, and sometimes joked with him, and put
him at the head of the table; and ' when it is dark,' said he, ' 1
will go forward,—you will follow in half-an-hour,—and, when
near the house, rush on, place your men at the back of the house,
ready to seize on the arms of the Highlanders, while you shall
go round with the sergeant and two men, walk in, and call out
the whole are your prisoners; and don't be surprised though
you should see me at the head of the company.' As they marched
on, they had to pass a rapid stream at Dabrie, a spot celebrated
on account of the defeat of Robert Bruce by Macdougal of Lorn,
in the year 1306. Here the soldiex^s asked their merry friend
the beggar to carry them through on his back. This he did,
sometimes taking two at a time, till he took the whole over, de¬
manding a penny from each for his trouble. When it was dark,
they pushed on, (the beggar having gone before), the officer
following the directions of his guide, and darting into the house
with the sergeant and three soldiers. They had hardly time to
look to the end of the table, where they saw the beggar standing,
when the door was shut behind them, and they were instantly
pinioned, two men standing on each side holding pistols to their
ears, and declaring that they were dead men if they uttered a
word. The beggar then went out, and called in two more men,
who were instantly secured, and in the same manner with the
whole party. Having been disarmed, they were placed under
a strong guard till morning, when he gave them a plentiful break¬
fast, and released them on parole (the Bailie attending with his
dirk, over which the officer gave his parole), to return imme¬
diately to their garrison, without attempting any thing more at
this time. This promise Rob Roy made secure, by keeping their
arms and ammunition, as lawful prize of war.
" Some time after, the same officer was again sent after this
noted character, probably to retrieve his former mishap. In this
expedition he was more fortunate, for he took three of the free¬
booters prisoners in the higher parts of Rreadalbane, near the scene
of the former exploit,—but the conclusion was nearly similar. He
lost no time in proceeding in the direction of Perth, for the pur¬
pose of putting his prisoners in jail; but Rob Roy was equally
alert in pursuit. His men marched in a paralled line with the sol¬
diers, who kept along Ihe bottom of the valley, on the south side of ,
ROB ROY.
269
Locli Tay, while the others kept close up the side of the hill,
anxiously looking for an opportunity to dash down and rescue
their comrades, if they saw any remissness or want of attention
on the part of the soldiers. Nothing of this kind offered, and
the party had passed Tay bridge, near which they halted and
slept. Macgregor now saw that something must soon be done
or never, as they would speedily gain the low country, and be
out of his reach. In the course of the night, he procured a
number of goat-skins and cords, with which he dressed himself
and his party in the wildest manner possible, and pushing for¬
ward, before day-light took post near the road-side, in a thick
wood below Grandtully Castle. When the soldiers came in a
line with the party in ambush, the Highlanders, with one leap,
darted down upon them, uttering such yells and shouts as, along
with their frightful appearance, so confounded the soldiers, that
they were overpowered and disarmed without a man being hurt
on either side. Rob Roy kept the arms and ammunition, re¬
leased the soldiers, and marched away in triumph with his men.
"The terror of his name was much increased by exploits like
these, which, perhaps, lost nothing by the telling, as the soldiers
would not probably be inclined to diminish the danger and fatigues
of a duty in which they were so often defeated. Rut it is unne¬
cessary to repeat the stories preserved and related of this man
and his actions,which were always daring and well contrived,
often successful, but never directed against the poor, nor prompted
by revenge, except against the Duke of Montrose, and without
any instance of murder or bloodshed committed by any of his
party, except in their own defence. In his war against Montrose,
he was supported and abetted by the Duke of Argyll, from whom
he always received shelter when hard pressed, or, to use a hunt¬
ing term, when he was in danger of being earthed by the troops.
These two powerful families were still rivals, although Montrose
had left the tories, and joined Argyll and the whig interest. It
is said that Montrose reproached Argyll in the House of Peers
with protecting the robber Rob Roy, when the latter, with his
usual eloquence and address, parried off the accusation (which
he could not deny), by jocularly answering, that if he protected
a robber, the other supported him."
•270
THE BLACK DWARF.
TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
THE BLACK DWARF.
Our readers will readily remember the curious explanation
which t^kes place between Bauldy, the old-world shepherd, in
the Introduction to this tale, and Mr. Peter Pattieson, respecting
the difference between lang sheep and short sheep/ A conver¬
sation once actually took place between Sir Walter Scott, James
Hogg, and Mr. Laidlaw, the factor of the former, in which the
same disquisition and nearly the same words occurred. Messrs.
H. and L. began the dispute about the various merits of the
different sheep; and many references being made to the res¬
pective lengths of the animals, Sir Walter became quite tired of
their unintelligible technicals, and very simply asked them how
sheep came to be distinguished by longitude, having, he ob¬
served, never perceived any remarkable difference between one
sheep and another in that particular. It was then that an ex¬
planation took place, very like that of Bauldy in the Introduction;
and we think there can be no doubt that the fictitious incident
would never have taken place but for the real circumstance we
have related.
The dispute with Christy Wilson, butcher in Gandercleugh,
which it was the object of Bauldy's master to settle, and in con¬
sequence of which being amicably adjusted, the convivialities
that brought out from the shepherd the materials of the tale
were entered into, has, we understand, its origin in a process
once before the Court of Session, respecting what is termed a
luck-penny on a bargain.
Elshender the Recluse.—The singular person of whose real
history and condition the following few particulars are detailed,
has already excited the curiosity and contributed to the en¬
tertainment of the public in no ordinary degree, under the fic¬
titious character of the Black Dwarf. That David Ritchie was
* Tales of my Landlord, 1st series, p. 3.
ELSHENDER THE RECLUSE,
271
the real prototype of that marvellous misanthrope, is avowed by
the author in his New Introduction.
David Ritchie was a pauper, who lived the greater part of a
long life, and finally died so late as the year 1811, in a solitary
cottage situated in the romantic glen of Manor in Peebles-shire.
This vale, now rendered classic ground by the abode of the
Black Dwarf, was otherwise formerly remarkable as having
been the retirement of the illustrious and venerable Professor-
Ferguson.
His person coincided singularly well with the description of
the fictitious recluse. He had been deformed and horrible since
his birth in no ordinary degree, which was probably the cause
of the analogous peculiarities of his temper. His countenance,
of the darkest of dark complexions, was half covered with a long
grisly black beard, and bore, as the centre of its system of ter¬
rors, two eyes of piercing black, which were sometimes, in his
excited moments, lighted up with wild and supernatural lustre.
His head Was of a singular shape, conical and oblong, and might
now form no unworthy subject for the studies of the Phrenolo¬
gical Society. To speak in their language, he must have had
few of the moral or intellectual faculties developed in any per¬
fection; for his brow retreated immediately above the eye¬
brows, and threw nearly the whole of his head, which was large,
behind the ear, where, it is said, the meaner organs of the
brain are situated—giving immense scope to cruelty, obstinacy,
self-esteem, &c. His nose was long and aquiline,—his mouth
wide and contemptuously curled upward,—and his chin pro¬
truded from the visage in a long grisly peak. His body, short
and muscular, was thicker than that of most ordinary men, and,
with his arms, which were long, and of great power, might
have formed the parts of a giant, had not nature capriciously
curtailed his form of other limbs conformable to these pro¬
portions. His arms had the same defect with those of the ce¬
lebrated Retterton, and he could not lift them higher than his
breast; yet such was their strength, that he has been known to
tear up a tree by the roots, which had baffled the united efforts
of two labourers, who had striven by digging to eradicate it.
His legs were short, frn-like, and bent outwards, with feet totally
inapplicable to the common purposes of walking. These he
constantly endeavoured to conceal from sight, by wrapping them
•272
THE BLACK DWARF.
up in immense masses of rags. This ungainly pari of his figure
is remarkable as the only one which differs materially from the
description of " Cannie Elshie," whose " body, thick and square,
was mounted upon two large feet."
He was the son of very poor parents, who, at an early period
of his life, endeavoured to place him with a tradesman in the
metropolis, to learn the humble art of brush-making; which
purpose he however soon deserted in disgust, on account of the
insupportable notice which his uncouth form attracted in the
streets. His spirit, perhaps, also panted for the seclusion of his
native hills, where he might have ease to indulge in that solitude
so appropriate to the outcast ugliness of his person, and free
from the insulting gaze of vulgar curiosity. Here, in the valley
of his birth, he formed the romantic project of building a small
hut for himself, in which, like the Recluse of the tale, he might
live for ever retired from the race for whose converse he was
unfitted, and give unrestrained scope to the moods of his mis¬
anthropy. He constructed this hermitage in precisely the same
manner with the Black Dwarf of Mucklestane Moor. Huge
rocks, which he had rolled down from the neighbouring hill,
formed the foundation and walls, to which an alternate layer
of turf, as is commonly used in cottages, gave almost the con¬
sistency and fully the comfort of mortar. He is said to have
evinced amazing bodily strength in moving and placing these
stones, such as the strongest men, with all the advantages of
stature and muscular proportion, could hardly have equalled.
This corporeal energy, which lay chiefly in his arms, will remind
the reader of the exertions of the Black Dwarf, as witnessed by
Hobbie Elliot and young Earnscliff, on the morning after his
first appearance, when employed in arranging the foundations
of his hermitage out of the Grey Geese of Mucklestane Moor.*
When the young hermit had finished his hut, and succeeded
in furnishing it with a few coarse household utensils, framed
chiefly by his own hands, he began to form a garden. In the
cultivation and adornment of this spot, he displayed a degree of
natural taste and ingenuity that might have fitted him for a higher
fate than the seclusion of a hermitage. In a short time he had
stocked it with such a profusion of fruit-trees, herbs, vegetables,
* Tales of my Landlord, 1st series, p. 24.
ELSHENDER, THE RECLUSE.
273
and flowers, that it seemed a little forest of beauty—a shred of
Eden, lit to redeem the wilderness around from its character of
desolation,—a gem on the swarth brow of the desert. Not only
did it exhibit the finest specimens of flowers indigenous to this
country, but he had also contrived to procure a number of ex¬
otics, whose Linnaean names he would roll forth to the friends
whom he indulged with an admission within its precincts, with a
pomposity of voice that never failed to enhance their admira¬
tion. It soon came to be much resorted to by visitors, being ac¬
counted, with the genius of the place, one of the most remarkable
curiosities of the county. Dr. Ferguson used sometimes to visit
the eccentric solitary, as an amusement in that retired spot; and
Sir Walter Scott, who was a frequent guest at the house of that
venerable gentleman, is said to have often held long com¬
munings with him, as likewise had several other individuals of
literary celebrity.
Among the traits of his character, there is none reminds us
so strongly of the Misanthrope of the Tale as his propensity to
execration. The same style of discourse, almost the same terms
of imprecation, are common to both. The Author has put ex¬
pressions into the mouth of this character which, as specimens
of the grand and sublime, are altogether unequalled in the w hole
circle of English poetry-—not even excepting the magnificent
thunders of Byron's muse. Now, his prototype is well remem¬
bered by those who have conversed with him, to have frequently
used language which, sometimes sinking to delicacy and even
elegance, and at others rising to a very tempest of execration
and diabolical expression, might have been deemed almost mi¬
raculous from his mouth, could it not have been attributed partly
to the impassioned inspiration that naturally flowed from his
consciousness of deformity, from keen resentment of insult, and
from the despairing loveless sterility of his heart.
The history of his death-bed furnishes us with an anecdote of
a beautiful and atoning character.
He had always through life expressed the utmost abhorrence
of being buried among what he haughtily termed the "common
brush" in the parish church-yard, and pointed out a particular
spot, in the neighbourhood of his cottage, where he had been
frequently known to lie dreaming or reading for long summer
days, as a more agreeable place of interment. It is remarked
18
274
THE BLACK DWARF.
by a former biographer, that he has displayed no small portion
of taste in the selection of this spot. It is the summit of a small
rising ground, called the Woodhill, situated nearly in the centre
of the parish of Manor, covered with green fern, and embowered
on the top by a circle of rowan-trees planted by the Dwarfs
own hand, for the double purpose of serving as a mausoleum or
monument to his memory, and keeping away, by the charm of
consecration supposed to be vested in their nature, the influence
of witchcraft and other unhallowed powers from the grave.
The little mansion at present existing is not that built by the
Dwarfs own hands, but one of later date, erected by the charity
of a neighbouring gentleman in the year 1802. A small tablet
of freestone, bearing this date below the letters D. R., was still
to be seen in the western gable. The eastern division of the cot¬
tage, separated from the other by a partition of stone and lime, and
entering by a different door, was inhabited, in 1820, by his sister.
It is remarkable that even with that near relation he was never on
terms of any affection; an almost complete estrangement having
subsisted between these two lonely beings for many years. Agnes
had been a servant in the earlier part of her life; but having of
late years become subject to a degree of mental aberration, she
had retired from every sort of employment to her brother's ha¬
bitation, where she subsisted on the charity of the poor's funds.
She much resembled her brother in features, but was not de¬
formed. Her face was dark with age and wretchedness, and her
aspect, otherwise somewhat appalling, was rendered almost un¬
earthly by two large black eyes, the lustre of which was not
the less horrible by the imbecility of their gaze. We think she
may have suggested the original idea of Elspeth Cheyne, the
superannuated dependant of Glenallan, in the Antiquary.
Agnes Ritchie died in December, 1821, ten years after the de¬
cease of her brother, and was buried in the same grave, in Manor
churchyard, on which occasion the deformed bones of Bowed
Davie were found, to the utter disproof of a vulgar report, that
they had suffered resurrection at the hands of certain anatomists
in the College of Glasgow.
It was a curious trait in the character of David Ritchie, that
he was very superstitious. Not only had he planted his house,
his garden, and even his intended grave, all round with the moun¬
tain-ash, but it is also well authenticated that he never went
OLD MORTALITY.
275
abroad without a branch of this singular antidote, tied round with
a red thread, in his pocket, to prevent the effects of the evil
eye. When the sancta sanctorum of his domicile were so sa¬
crilegiously ransacked after his death, there was found an elf-
stone, or small round pebble, bored in the centre, hung by a
cord of hair passed through the hole to the head of his bed!
His grave lies in the immediate vicinity. A slip of his fa¬
vourite rowan-tree marks the spot. It was planted several years
after his death by some kindly hand, and, in the absence of a
less perishable monument, seemed a wonderful act of delicacy
and attention. It spoke a pathos to the feelings, that the finest
inscription could not have excited,—it was so consonant with
the former desires of "the poor inhabitant below!"
OLD MORTALITY.
The whimsical title of Old Mortality is merely derived from
the nickname of the personage out of whose mouth the narra¬
tive is feigned to proceed. The tale itself gives a living picture
of Scotland during the darkest period of her story—the age of
conventicles, the conflict of wild fanaticism with unjust persecu¬
tion; when religion was stript of its peaceful character—war ol
its honour—the human heart of all its natural feelings. It is
impossible to conceive a ground less favourable in which to
plant the flowers of imagination. It reflects, therefore, peculiar
credit on the author's talents, that he should, from such mate¬
rials, have produced a work in no ways inferior to the best
of those which have already issued from his pen.—There is,
indeed, in the situations and characters of Waverley and Guy
Mannering, something bold and original, which we scarcely find
here; but there is an uncommon variety of characters, all well-
supported—Balfour of Burley, the sturdy covenanter, in whom
religious zeal is blended with all the furies of ambition and re¬
venge, tempered with a large mixture of craft and worldly wis¬
dom : Claverhouse, a true historical picture, uniting the fierce¬
ness and desperation of the soldier with the dignity of the
officer, the ease and grace of the courtier; shedding torrents of
blood without passion, almost without motive, but always with
the same cold relentless inhumanity. As we descend lower,
is *
•270
OLD MORTALITY.
the features are found equally marked and striking : in Both well,
the dissolute unlicensed dragoon, rioting on the spoils of a coun¬
try given up to military violence; mixed with some interesting
touches of the high rank which he has fallen from, but still re¬
collects : the wild and raving fanaticism of Mause; the hearty,
homely common sense of her son Cuddie; and the pert, officious
activity of Jenny Dennison, are complete copies of nature.
So many characters, well and lively represented, and introduced
in scenes horrible indeed, but striking and critical, cause the
volume to contain a very great store of entertainment. It will
also have the effect of introducing many readers to a better ac¬
quaintance with an interesting period of Scottish history.
History of the Period.*—" We have observed the early
antipathy mutually entertained by the Scottish presbyterians
and the House of Stuart. It seems to have glowed in the breast
even of the good-natured Charles II. He might have remem¬
bered, that, in 1651, the presbyterians had fought, bled, and
ruined themselves in his cause. But he rather recollected their
early faults than their late repentance; and even their services
were combined with the recollection of the absurd and humi¬
liating circumstances of personal degradation, to which their
pride had subjected him, while they professed to espouse his
cause. As a man of pleasure, he hated their stern inflexible ri¬
gour, which stigmatized follies even more deeply than crimes;
and he whispered to his confidants, that, ' therefore, it was not
wonderful that, in the first year of his restoration, he formally
re-established prelacy in Scotland.' But it is surprising that,
with his father's example before his eyes, he should not have
been satisfied to leave at freedom the consciences of those who
could not reconcile themselves to the new system. The religious
opinions of sectaries have a tendency, like the water of some
springs, to become soft and mild when freely exposed to open
day. Who can recognize, in the decent and industrious quakers
and anabaptists, the wild and ferocious tenets which distinguished
their sects while yet they were honoured with the distinction of
the scourge and the pillory? Had the system of coercion
against the presbyterians been continued until our day, Blair and
* This spirited article is copied from The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.
THE CAMERONIANS.
•277
Robertson would have preached in the wilderness, and only
discovered their powers of eloquence and- composition, by roll¬
ing along a deeper torrent of gloomy fanaticism.
"The western counties distinguished themselves by their oppo¬
sition to the prelatic system. Three hundred and fifty ministers
ejected from their churches and livings, wandered through the
mountains, sowing the seeds of covenanted doctrine, while multi¬
tudes of fanatical followers pursued them, to reap the forbidden
crop. These conventicles, as they were called, were denounced
by the law, and their frequenters dispersed by military force.
The genius of the persecuted became stubborn, obstinate, and fe¬
rocious ; and, although indulgences were tardily granted to some
presbyterian ministers, few of the true Covenanters, or Whigs, as
they were called, would condescend to compound with a prelatic
government, or to listen even to their own favourite doctrine under
the auspices of the King. From Richard Cameron, their apostle,
this rigid sect acquired the name of Cameronians. They preached
and prayed against the indulgence, and against the presbyterians
who availed themselves of it, because their accepting of this royal
boon was a tacit acknowledgment of the King's supremacy in
ecclesiastical matters.
"Upon these bigoted and persecuted fanatics, and by no means
upon the presbyterians at large, are to be charged the wild
anarchical principles of anti-monarchy and assassination which
polluted the period when they flourished.
"The conventicles were now attended by armed crowds,
and a formidable insurrection took place in the west, and rolled
on towards the capital. It was terminated by a defeat at the
Pentland Hills, where General Dalziel routed the insurgents
with great loss, 18th November, 1G66.
"The whigs, now become desperate, adopted the most des¬
perate principles; and retaliating, as far as they could, the in-
tolerating persecution which they endured, they openly disclaimed
allegiance to any monarch who should not profess presbytery
and subscribe the Covenant. These principles were not likely
to conciliate the favour of government, and, as we wade onward
in the history of the times, the scenes become yet darker. At
length, one would imagine the parties had agreed to divide the
kingdom of vice between them,—the hunters assuming to them¬
selves open profligacy and legalized oppression, and the hunted
278
OLD MORTALITY.
the opposite attributes of hypocrisy, fanaticism, disloyalty, and
midnight assassination. The troopers and cavaliers became en¬
thusiasts in the pursuit of the Covenanters. If Messrs. Kid, King,
Cameron, Peden,&c. boasted of prophetic powers, and were often
warned of the approach of the soldiers by supernatural impulse,
Captain John Crichton, on the other side, dreamed dreams and
saw visions (chiefly, indeed, after having drunk hard), in which
the lurking-holes of the rebels were discovered to his imagi¬
nation.*
" Our ears are scarcely more shocked with the profane exe¬
cration of the persecutors-}- than with the strange and insolent fa¬
miliarity used towards the Deity by the persecuted fanatics. Their
indecent modes of prayer, their extravagant expectations of mi¬
raculous assistance, and their supposed inspirations, might easily
furnish out a tale, at which the good would sigh, and the gay
would laugh.4.
" The militia and standing army soon became unequal to the
task of enforcing conformity and suppressing conventicles. In
their aid, and to force compliance with a test proposed by
government, the Highland clans were raised, and poured down
into Ayrshire; and armed hosts of undisciplined mountaineers*
speaking a different language, and professing, many of theim
another religion, were let loose to ravage and plunder this un¬
fortunate country; and it is truly astonishing to find how few
acts of cruelty they perpetrated, and how seldom they added
murder to pillage. Additional levies of horse were also raised,
under the name of independent troops, and great part of them
placed under the command of James Grahame of Claverhouse,
a man well known to fame by his subsequent title of Viscount
* See the life of this booted apostle of prelacy, written by Swift, who had
collected all his anecdotes of persecution, and appears to have enjoyed them ac¬
cordingly.
f " They raved," says Peden's historian, " like fleshly devils, when the mist
shrouded from their pursuit the wandering Whigs. One gentleman closed a
declaration of vengeance against the conventicles with this strange imprecation,
' or may the devil make my ribs a gridiron to my soul.'"—MS. Account of the
Presbytery of Penpont. Our armies swore terribly in Flanders, but nothing
like to this.
t Peden complained bitterly that, after a heavy struggle with the devil, he
had got above him, spur-galled him hard, and obtained a wind to carry him
from Ireland to Scotland—when, behold! another person had set sail, and
reaped the advantage of his prayer-wind, before he could embark.
ROBERT PATERSON.
213
of Dundee, but better remembered in the western shires under
the designation of the bloody Clavers.
" In truth, he appears to have combined the virtues and vices
of a savage chief. Fierce, unbending, and rigorous, no emo¬
tion of compassion prevented his commanding and witnessing
every detail of military execution against the non-conformists.
Undoubtedly brave, and steadily faithful to his prince, he sacri¬
ficed himself in the cause of James when he was deserted by all
the world. The whigs whom he persecuted, daunted by his
ferocity and courage, conceived him to be impassive to their
bullets, and that he had sold himself, for temporal greatness, to
the seducer of mankind. It is still believed, that a cup of wine,
presented to him by his butler, changed into clotted blood; and
that, when he plunged his feet into cold water, their touch
caused it to boil. The steed which bore him was supposed to
be the gift of Satan; and precipices are shown where a fox
could hardly keep his feet, down which the infernal charger
conveyed him safely in pursuit of the wanderers. It is remem¬
bered with terror that Claverhouse was successful in every en¬
gagement with the Whigs, except that at Drumclog, or Loudon-
hill. The history of Burley will bring us immediately to the causes
and circumstances of that event.
Old Mortality.—This " innocent and interesting enthusiast,"
as he has been called by the author, was a real person, named
Robert Paterson, who for many years during the latter half of
the last century, traversed the districts of the southern parts of
Scotland, which had been the scenes of " the persecution," in
the very strange and romantic employment, described in the
Introduction to the tale. Every peculiarity of his figure, of his
character, and of his occupation, is so accurately delineated in
that work, that there is scarcely any thing left for us to add.
Even the manner of his death is perfectly exact—he was found
stretched upon the road nearLockerby, in Dumfries-shire, almost
dead, and just expiring. This event happened in the year 1789,
as we are informed by an Ayrshire gentleman, who remembers
his father having frequently given quarters to "Auld Mortality
This intelligence may be interesting, as the Author of Waverley
does not seem to have been aware of the date of his decease.
The grave-stones, which it had been his pride to preserve, are
280
OLD MORTALITY.
now fast running to decay; for liis enthusiasm, however beau¬
tiful and meritorious in its character, has found no successor in
the land.
Balfour of Burley.—The name of this remarkable person,
who bore so conspicuous a part in the unhappy scenes of bigotry
and tyranny which Scotland displayed towards the close of the
reign of Charles II., must be familiar to every class of readers,
since the appearance of " the Tales of my Landlord." By the
author of that work, and the discussions to which it has given
rise, Burley has been drawn from the comparative obscurity in
which he had hitherto remained, known only to the divine and
the historian, and held up to the world as a person eminently
entitled to respect or reprobation, according to the opposite
views which are still taken of the cause in which he was engaged,
John Balfour, of Kinloch, * was the son of John Balfour, por-
tioner of Kinloch, by his wife, Grigger Hay, daughter of Hay, of
Paris, of Perthshire. He was probably born about the year
1640; f and we find him served heir to his grandfather, Robert
Balfour, on the 26th of February, 1663. t
John, the father of Burley, seems to have died before the year
1655, as his son was then boarded with John Hay, who grants
a receipt to Robert and Alexander Tamson, for four-score pounds
Scots, as payment of the said board, dated at Auchtermuchtie.
Hay was Burley's uncle; and it is certain that he afterwards re¬
sided with another of his uncles.
Balfour seems to have joined pretty early with the party which
showed resistance in episcopacy; for he is asserted in the ap~
* The appellation of Burley was used in consequence of his close connexion
with the Balfours of Burley. Ahout 1560, Sir Michael Balfour, of Burley
(more properly Burleigh), a gentleman of an ancient and highly respectable fa¬
mily, made a grant of the lands of Kinloch to his " near kinsman," the grand¬
father of Burley.—Eclin. Mag. & Lit. Miscell. 1817.
f According to the Scots Worthies, he was born ahout the year 1640, in
which work his life is recorded. He joined early with the party which showed
resistance to Episcopacy, and was ranked among their leaders or principal men,
long before the assassination in which he took so deep a share. It is impos¬
sible, however, that he could have fought in the cause of the covenant before
the restoration (as he is always represented to have done in the tale we illus¬
trate), for he had only come to the years of maturity, about the time when
Episcopacy was established in Scotland (16621 after that event.
+ Retours of Fife.
BALFOUR OF BURLEY.
•281
pendix to the life of Archbishop Sharp, to have deserted the
church, and followed after field conventicles long previous to
the Bishop's murder; "glorying," according to the writer, "to
be one of the most furious zealots, and stoutest champions of the
fanatic party in Fife; for which he was denounced and inter-
communed. " In the year 1677, he was attacked by a party sen t
out to apprehend him, in his own house; the details of which
affray are thus given by the Rev. Mr. James Kirton, in his
History of the Church of Scotland. " Another accident at this
time helped to inflame the displeasure of our governors, and
that was this: Captain Carstaires was at that very time busie in
the east end of Fife; the Lady Colvill he chased out of her own
house, and by constraining her to lie upon the mountains, broke
the poor ladie's health; William Sherthumb he laid in prison,
but the doors were open, and he set free. But the people of that
country who were conventiclers, knew not what to doe; so
some dozen of them met at Kinloch, the house of John Balfour, a
bold man, who was himself present, and with him Alexander Ha¬
milton, of Kincaill, a most irreconcilable enemy to the Bishops;
also Robert Hamilton, youngest son to Sir Robert Hamilton,
of Preston, a man who had very lately changed his character,
and of a loose youth became a high-strained zealot; but a man
he was who made a great deal more noise than ever he did
business; and some countrymen more. Of these, Carstaires gets
intelligence, and so comes upon them very boldly w ith his party
of eight or nine horses, among whom Philip Garret, a desperate
English tinker, was chief. Garret alights, and perceiving a man
standing in the door of the house, fires upon him, but misses
him; upon which one out of the chamber fires upon Garret,
being at that time in the court of the house; the shot pierced
Garret's shoulder, and made him fall. Carstaires fired in at
another door, and pierced the leg of the man of the house; and
upon this all within horsed, and chased Carstaires and his party,
though no more blood was shed, only Kincaill's horse was shot,
and Garrett received some more blow s with a sword, but his life
was spared. This action, upon Carstaires' information, was
reckoned resistance and rebellion. All present, because they
appeared not when called, were denounced rebels, and some
who were not present, were denounced with the rest, as it
*282
OLD MORTALITY.
was very frequently done; but this was charged upon the whole
party."
It may be remarked, that Eirton mistakes one Garret, for the
infamous English tinker Scarlet, who, after riding as one ol
Mr. John Welch's body-guard, was suspected to have been
concerned in the barbarous murder of two soldiers, at Newmills,*
and that the tory account of this fracas states Balfour to have
removed his wife and children out of the house, expecting the
attack, for which he was well prepared, both with fire-arms and
men.
The next traces we find of him are in desperate consultations
with his accomplices respecting the castigation of one Baillie
Carmichael, who was brought over, by Sharp, from Edinburgh,
and made Sheriff-depute of Fylfe, under Rhodes, for the purpose
of enforcing the grievous penalties enacted against the presby-
terians. The barbarous murder of the Archbishop, which oc¬
curred soon afterwards, has been so fully and frequently de¬
scribed and expatiated upon, that it is unnecessary to rehearse
again the particulars of that transaction. Burley is well known
to have been one of the chief agents in the assassination.
After the murder, Burley and his friend rambled about for a
few days, avoiding observation, and then joined the insurgents
at Drumclog.f There he behaved with great bravery, and is
made the hero of a ballad descriptive of that skirmish, to be found
in the Border Minstrelsy. On disarming one of the Duke of
Hamilton's servants, who had been in the action, he desired the
man, as it is said, to tell his master that he would retain, till
meeting, the pistols which he had taken from him. Afterwards,
when the duke asked his man what he was like, he told him he
was a little man, squint-eyed, and of a very fierce aspect; the
duke said he knew who it was, and withal prayed that he might
never see his face, for if he should, he was sure he would not
live long.f At the affair of Bothwell Bridge, Burley displayed
his wonted courage, and received a wound which occasioned
him to exclaim, "The devil cut off his hands that gave it." The
reader will find in Russel many circumstances respecting Burley's
* See Russel's account of Sharp's murder.
f Russel.
\ Scots Worthies.
SERGEANT BOTH WELL.
283
motions after the rout at Botliwell Bridge, which concluded in
a flight to Holland, where he was not very cordially treated by
his fellow refugees, being debarred from the sacrament of the
Lord's Supper. He appears to have resided chiefly with his
uncle, John Hay, who became an eminent bookseller in Holland.
When the Prince of Orange undertook his descent, Burleigh
received a commission as a cavalry officer, but died on the pas¬
sage. His property had been confiscated, and given to Lord
Lindores. After the revolution, the act of attainder was reversed.
David Balfour, the son, was then served heir to his father, and
commenced a prosecution against Lord Lindores for his intro¬
missions with the estate.
Sergeant Bothwell.—Francis Stuart, the grandson and re¬
presentative of the last Earl of Bothwell, who was himself a
grandson to James V. of Scotland, was so much reduced in cir¬
cumstances, as to ride a private in the Life Guards, which were
commanded by General Grahame, of Claverhouse, during the
period of the persecution. We learn this from Swift's Memoirs
of Crichton, who was his comrade. Sir Walter Scott, in a
note to this part of the work, shows some respectable reasons
for supposing him to have been the great-grandson of the Earl
of Bothwell; but we are rather inclined to side with the other
authority, as it is corroborated by the testimony of a curious old
book, entitled, " Scott of Scotstarvet's Staggering State of Scots
Statesmen," in which Bothwell is mentioned as the grandson of
that unfortunate and imprudent nobleman. It seems strange
that Sergeant Bothwell should have been so extremely reduced,
considering that his mother was a daughter of the Earl of Seaton,
whose family, before their attainder in 1715, was one of the
most powerful and opulent in Scotland.
The character attributed to Bothwell, in the tale, is purely
imaginary.
Lady Margaret Bellenden.—It is not impossible, that Lady
Margaret Bellenden was the old Dowager Duchess of Hamilton,
who lived till the year 1716, in the castle of Avondale, which is
situated in a wild part of Lanarkshire, within a few miles of
Loudon Hill, and at the entrance of the muirs which the troops
of Claverhouse are described to have passed in their progress to
2S4
OLD MORTALITY.
the Battle of Drumclog. Avondale Castle, which was perhaps
Tillietudlem, has, since the decease of that lady, been uninha¬
bited, and is now in ruins.
Kettledrummle—Will be remembered as the fanatic pres-
byterian minister, who was carried, along with Morton and
other prisoners, to Loudon Kill. Is is a certain fact, that the
troops of the king did carry with them to the battle, a minister,
whom they had taken that morning in a conventicle. His name
was Mr. John King; under which title he is to be found among
the Scots Worthies. During the battle, he was detained at the
top of the hill, in the rear of the fight; and when Claverhouse
found it necessary to retreat, he stood up, hailed that arch-enemy
of the covenant in words which, in Old Mortality, are put into
the mouth of Mause. He called to him, with a taunting request
to " stay the afternoon's sermon." On the discomfiture of those
who had detained him prisoner, he joined the insurgents; and
was afterwards present at the battle of Bothwell Bridge, in con¬
sequence of which act of rebellion he was executed. He is said
to have been a religious and good man.
Covenanters1 Churchyard.*—There exists in the neighbour¬
hood of Edinburgh, a scene nearly resembling that which is
described in the beautiful preliminary to Old Mortality, as the
deserted burying-ground of the Covenanters. It is commonly
entitled St. Catherine's Kirk-yard; though there does not now
remain the least trace of a place of worship within its precincts.
It lies abont a mile from Glencross Bridge, among the solitudes
of the Pentlands, and coincides remarkably well with the de¬
scriptions of the fiction, by having been the grave of a few of the
presbyterian insurgents, who were killed near the spot, in re¬
treating from the battle of Rullion Green. It seems to have been
long disused as a place of interment; and so complete is its deso¬
lation, that a slight mark of an inclosure and a few overgrown
grave-stones, themselves almost in the grave, are all that now
point out the spot.
The situation is particularly pastoral, beautiful, and interesting.
It is placed where the narrow ravine, down which Glencross-
* Tales ol my Landlord, 1st series, )>. 15H.
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
285
burn descends, opens into a fine expanse of country; and in
general it agrees well, as to circumstances of scenery, with the
author's "Vale of Glandercleugh," though, we are happy to
inform the reader, the horrific dry-stane-dike, projected by
" his honour the Laird of Guse-dub," does not appear ever to
have " substituted its rectilinear deformity for the graceful wind¬
ing of the natural boundary." The ground is not otherwise
destitute of the qualification of classic; for at no great distance
stands Logan-house, the supposed mansion of Sir William
Worthy, of the Gentle Shepherd, and at the head of the glen
lies what has generally been considered the " Habbie's How," of
that drama, though others incline to suppose it situated near
Newhall, on the South-Esk.
The Yale of Gandercleugli may perhaps have been suggested
by Lesmahagow, a village and parish in the west country, not
far from Drumclog. In the churchyard are interred several of
the Covenanters,—in particular, David Steel, who was slain by
Captain Crichton, the cavalier whose life was written by Swift
—in a note to which Sir Walter Scott mentions old Mortality as
having for a long time preserved Steel's grave-stone from decay.
Tillietudlem—Is supposed to have been described from
Craig Nethan Castle, in Lanarkshire, lying near the road be¬
tween Lanark and Hamilton. It must be confessed that, both
in locality and appearance, they closely resemble each other.
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
It is as representations of Scottish scenery and manners, that
the descriptions of the Waverley novels are primarily intended;
and it is under this aspect, we apprehend, that they ought chiefly
to be considered by the judicious critic. The religious character
of the Scottish peasantry is not, we believe, very generally un¬
derstood, even at the present day. Scotland has long enjoyed
the reputation of being the most religious country perhaps in
Europe : and we are ready to admit, that in many very obvious
respects" this character is well merited. Yet, we are much
mistaken, if the feeling of devotion be more generally diffused
among the mass of Scottish peasantry, than among those of
280
THE HEART OF MID-LOTIIIAN.
many other countries, which have never attained the same
climax of character. In short, we believe that the tendency of
the Scottish national character is rather to reflection and fore¬
sight, than to veneration, or any of those powerful emotions
on which devotion is founded; and that while there is, no doubt,
much external decency of conduct, and much sincere regard for
religious privileges among our people, they have yet a decided
inclination to consider every religious topic rather as a subject
of speculation and debate, than as a holy revelation, which should
awaken their gratitude and love.
There is, indeed, no person who appears to us to have formed
a more just estimate of this peculiarity of the national character
of the Scots, than the author of " Rob Royand we beg leave
to refer such of our readers as may wish to see how he thinks
upon this subject, to the admirable account given in that novel,*
of the different countenances and feelings of the spectators who
were assembled to hear the sermon, which is there stated to
have been delivered by a popular preacher of the period re¬
ferred to, in the cathedral of Glasgow. Every one conversant
with the habits of the Scottish population, must have remarked,
indeed, that public worship is much less viewed by them as an
union of individuals to express their gratitude to their Maker, or
to learn the dictates of his will, than as an opportunity for the
exercise of their critical talents on those theological points, upon
which even the lowest of the peasantry consider themselves to
be competent judges ; and as all days of peculiar sanctity are
banished from our calendar, the disputative character of their
public assemblies is not compensated by any sacred moments
which might have mingled their influence with their more or¬
dinary occupations.
It is not necessary to say how different all this is even in those
European countries which have been longest under the influence
of superstition; and while we profess, therefore, to hold high
the moral character of the Scottish people, we apprehend that
that author has done a good service to religion, who, by the
force of his ridicule, has in some measure made us sensible of
propensities which we had formerly regarded with too much
veneration. At all events, that man, we think, must have con-
* Rob Roy, p. 216.
DOUCE DAVID DEANS*
'287
sidered the character of Scottish peasantry with very little dis¬
crimination, who can doubt of the correctness of the leading
portrait in the great picture which the same accomplished artist
has now submitted to the judgment of the public.
The portrait to which we allude is that of " Douce David
Deans,"—a man who is supposed to have had some share, while
yet a boy, in the great struggle for religious independence in
which his countrymen had engaged during the latter years of
the preceding century;—who had outlived, however, all that
period of dissension and persecution;—and who now, from the
repose of a green old age, still cherishes, in more quiet times,
a deep-rooted veneration for the feelings of his youth, and an
unyielding horror of those backslidings and failings,—those right-
hand excesses, and left-hand defections, which now deformed
the beauty of the national tabernacle. Yet, amidst all the dog-
gedness of his religious zeal, and all the self-importance with
which he viewed his superior gifts and graces, there is so much
true devotion in the character of this man,—such firm ad¬
herence to what, in his conscience and understanding, he be¬
lieves to be the truth,—such a fearless devotion to the will of
God, and so much genuine affection, under a show of austerity,
for the friends that had been given him, that no man, we think,
can look upon his character, as it is here drawn, without feeling
something of that veneration with which we regard the patriarchs
of a holier age. We think, in short, that no man could have
painted such a character, without having both formed to himself
a most correct idea of the religious feelings of the more res¬
pectable of the Scottish peasantry, and without entertaining a
true reverence for the excellencies which he described; and, as
we consider the character of David Deans to have been intended
by the author as in some degree a relief to the darker shades
in which he had delineated the great body of the Covenanted
leaders in his former work, we appeal for the truth of the present
portrait, to those numerous living originals of it, who may still
be seen in every village and neighbourhood within the limits of
that country.
It would seem to us, that there is not one of our author's
former productions which is more perfectly in this spirit than
the one now before us. The whole family of the Deans, who
constitute the leading group in the picture, are Scottish, and cha-
288
THE HEART OF M1D-LOTIIIAN.
racteristic in the very highest degree. Jeanie, the quiet* firm,
undaunted, affectionate Jeanie, where should we seek for her
prototype, but among the well-educated and well-principled
peasantry of " dear Caledonia ?" It is with a truer pride than
ever patriot felt from contemplating the most splendid trophies
of a victorious country, we are able to say, that in our own ex¬
perience we have frequently witnessed the most essential ingre¬
dients of this character, not indeed in circumstances in which
they could be so strikingly manifested, but 'in such vigour of
existence that we have not a doubt, that similar circumstances
alone were wanting for their being as gloriously manifested.
" Effie, that puir blinded, misguided thing," the child of many
prayers, and the cause of so many sorrows, is unfortunately a
character of more frequent occurrence. But though the same
obstinacy and irritability of temper, the same self-conceited dis¬
regard of restraint, and the same readiness, as she herself con¬
fessed, to risk " baith soul and body for them she loved," may
be found among the young and inexperienced, and affectionate
of every land, what country but Scotland could furnish the tout
ensemble of her portrait.*
The characters of the different members of the family of David
Deans are not, however, the only ones contained in this volume,
which we at once recognize to be peculiarly national. The pic¬
ture given of the fashionable style of manners and accomplish¬
ments among the Scottish lawyers of the present day, is exe¬
cuted with a fidelity which no one who has witnessed the origi¬
nals will for one moment dispute. The different members of
those inferior groups who maintained the memorable conversa¬
tions which took place in the West Bow, when retiring from the
expected execution, and also when the sentence had been pro¬
mulgated which condemned Effie Deans to an ignominious death,
the characters we mean of Plumdamas, of Mr. and Mrs. Saddle¬
tree, Mrs. Howden, and Miss Damahoy, are also given with the
most scrupulous adherence to truth and effect. While the in¬
teresting memorials of our "Auld friends the town guard, with
John Dhu, their valiant corporal,"—the holiday squabbles with
the venerable ancients, to which we still look back with so vivid
a recollection,—and of the fearful tumult of a more serious mob,
* Heart of Mid-Lothian, p. 106—109.
CHARACTERS.
289
as given in the powerfully wrought scene of the gathering and
progress of the rioters by whom the prison was broken,—all
these are so perfectly descriptive of scenes and characters with
which we are either familiar, or of which we have frequently
heard, that no native of the city can either fail to acknowledge
the resemblance, or to receive, from tracing it, the most lively
satisfaction.
It it astonishing, indeed, what a variety of personages the au¬
thor has introduced into these tales, and yet how perfectly one
seems to remember, not merely the place and action, but the
very look and tone of every one of them. They are all, there¬
fore, distinct and individual in a high degree; but they are all at
the same time natural, for they uniformly act under the influence
of such a combination of passions as Nature herself would have
associated in such individuals. Thus, David Deans is not mere¬
ly a devoted enthusiast, but a tender father and a prudent man
of the world, Jeanie—our favourite Jeanie—is, indeed, affec¬
tionate, and firm, and undaunted, but she is also quiet, and
industrious. Eflie, with all her youthful disregard of decorum,
is at the same time generous, and enthusiastically attached to
those whom she prefers. Butler is sensible, and well principled,
and inflexibly honourable, but he is also simple and pedantic.
Mrs. Saddletree is bustling and worldly, with a dash also of mo¬
therly affection. And Captain Knockdunder himself, with all
his despotism and officious servility to his superiors, is yet brave
as a lion, and constitutionally gallant to the softer sex.
The characters of this novel are introduced in the course of
a tale which is intended to awaken the passions of the heart; and
truly we do not know when a tale of more heartfelt interest
was presented to us. Those who are even in the slightest de¬
gree acquainted with the former productions of the author, are
well aware that he possesses the power of awakening the feelings
in a degree equal at least to that in which he is distinguished as
a painter of scenery or a delineator of character. But his pathos
is always managed in a manner peculiar to himself. There is no
apparent preparation for the effect to be produced. The author
throws himself at once into the situation which he paints, and ex¬
pressions are uttered which awaken all our sympathies, while
the writer appears almost unconscious of the power he is excit¬
ing, and while the story seems not to suffer the slightest inter-
19
200
THE HEART OF MID LOTHIAN.
ruption from the burst of passion which had been unexpectedly
drawn forth. As an instance of this part of our author's talents,
and as one of the most interesting passages also which occur in
the work, we venture to remind our readers of the interview be¬
tween Jeanie Deans and her sister on the evening preceding the
day of her trial.*
The reader may find other instances of the same simple and
unpretending pathos in the interview between Jeanie Deans and
the Duke of Argyle, and also between the same heroine and her
father, when they meet unexpectedly on the beach at Roseneath.
Few situations, indeed, can be conceived more trying to an au¬
thor's powers than that to which the foregoing extract relates.
A beautiful and virtuously educated girl, not yet eighteen years
of age, is confined under a charge of having murdered her child,
and the interview to be described is between this girl and her
sister, who is all that is good and heroic, and yet mild, in woman.
An author of inferior talent would, probably, have wrought up
this scene with all the profusion of labour and care which language
admits ; and, if he had succeeded in throwing out some strokes
of passion amidst pages of eloquent insipidity, he would, pro¬
bably, have congratulated himself on having done all that human
genius could do on so difficult an occasion. It is not thus, how¬
ever, with our author: he advanced to the most hazardous parts
of his subject apparently with the same fearless step as to its
most manageable, and, placing himself at once in the situation of
the speakers, he pours forth those accents of natural and unaf¬
fected anguish whicli alone were suited to the real pathos of the
scene he is describing.
The leading defect of this story,—for it is in the story itself,
as usual, and not in the execution of individual parts, that any
want of perfection is discovered, has been arraigned as follows:
—namely—that the narrative is conducted by the help of by far
too many surprising and unexpected incidents, and that this con¬
stitutes the peculiar defect of the tale, viewed as an attempt to
move the affections by a simple and natural recital of events.
We were (says one), in the first place, a good deal scandalized
to find " Geordie Robertson," whom we had just regarded as a
fortunate felon, to be the father of the child which poor Efhe had
* The Heart of Mid-Lothian, p. 232—240.
CHARACTERS.
291
borne; but this circumstance, unexpected as it was, was quite
overborne by many others which occur in the story. Who, for
instance, could have imagined that Jeanie Deans, in her pilgri¬
mage of duty, was to be stopped at Gunnersbury-hill by the ac¬
complices of Meg Murdockson and her daughter, whom we had
regarded as stationary inmates of some of the low houses of
Edinburgh ? Still more surprising, however, is the discovery
of Robertson lying wounded in bed, in the house of the Rev.
Mr. Staunton, rector of Willingham. The meeting of Jeanie
Deans with her father at Roseneath, after her return from Lon¬
don, is also an incident of the same forced character. The sud¬
den appearance of Effie Deans and her husband at the same
place, after they were supposed finally to have eloped from Scot¬
land, has plainly not a little of the same character of quackery.
And the whole history of the son whose birth had been the oc¬
casion of so much sorrow,—the accomplice of the outlaw Do-
nacha Dhu, and, finally, a wandering savage among the wilds
of America—is one of those fictions in which it seems to us
that a writer of powerful genius ought not to deal. We know
well that unexpected incidents must occur in every novel; but
we likewise know that these ought always to be so managed as
never to convert the natural emotion connected with the situation
into one of wonder merely. And our author himself, indeed, has
furnished some very remarkable instances, in the same work, of
the legitimate use of this artifice. For instance, the resolution
suddenly taken by Jeanie Deans, to repair on foot to London, in
order to beg the life of her sister, is, no doubt, a surprising in¬
cident, and the various means by which her ultimate success is
effected are also such as we could not possibly have anticipated;
yet, when they do occur, it all appears to be natural enough,
and her journey, romantic as it seemed at first to be, is yet per¬
fectly consistent with all our ideas of the character, and with the
providential guidance under which we feel that so much vir¬
tuous resolution must be placed. Rut the other incidents we have
noticed, though not so wonderful, in reality, as the success of
her journey, are yet felt, we apprehend, by every reader, to be
altogether extravagant and forced. Rut, on the other hand,
were we called upon to express our opinion of the performance
we have been considering, we should not hesitate to say that it
contains scenes as remarkable for fine pathos, and simple in-
39 *
29*2
THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN.
terest as any which might be selected from amidst the multi¬
tude of publications with which the world is now so familiar—
that as a delineation of manners and events which have just
passed from our view, it will for ever form an invaluable addi¬
tion to the literature of this country; and that, in the execution
of its parts, it discovers all the vigour and unstudied readiness
of its hitherto unrivalled author. There is little question also
that it will be read with all the enthusiasm which his former
works had awakened; but whether it will be regarded as one
of his first rate performances is a question which does not come
within our province to decide.
Mobs and Executions.—Many are the exemplary instances of
the daring and intrepidity of a Scottish mob from the days of
Porteous down to the present time. Previous to any detail of
these flights of popular fury, we shall allude to a few inaccu¬
racies of the account given of the Porteous's mob in " the Heart
of Mid-Lothian," assigning at the same time precise dates to all
the incidents connected therewith.
It was on the morning of the 11th of April, 1736, that Wil¬
son and Robertson were conducted to the Tolbooth Church, for
the purpose of hearing their last sermon, their execution being
appointed for the Wednesday following. The custom of taking
criminals, under sentence of death, to a place of public worship,
and suffering them to mix again with their fellow-men from
whom they were so shortly to be cut off for ever, was a beau¬
tiful trait of the devotional and merciful feelings of the people of
Scotland, which has since this incident been unhappily disused.
In the tale, the escape of Robertson is said to have happened
after the sermon; but this statement, evidently made by the no¬
velist for the sake of effect, is incorrect. The criminals had
scarcely seated themselves in the pew, when Wilson committed
the daring deed, Robertson tripped up the fourth soldier him¬
self, and jumped out of the pew with incredible celerity and agi¬
lity. In hurrying out of the door of the church, he tumbled
over the collection money, by which he was probably hurt, for
in running across the Parliament-square he was observed to
stagger much, and in going down the stairs which led to the
Cowgate he actually fell. In this dangerous predicament he was
protected by the minister, who was coming up the stairs on his way
k MOBS AND EXECUTIONS.
293
to church at the moment. This kind-hearted gentleman is said to
have set him again on his feet, and to have favoured his retreat, as
much as possible, from the pursuit of the guard. Robertson passed
to the Cowgate, ran up the Horse Wynd, and out at Patterrow
Port, the crowd all the way closing behind him, so that his pur¬
suers could not by any means overtake him. In the Wynd he
made up to a saddled horse, and would have mounted him, but
was prevented by the owner. Passing the Cross Causeway, he
got into the King's Park, and made the way for Duddingston
under the basaltic rocks, which hang over the path to that village.
On jumping a dike near Clearburn, he fainted away, but was
revived by refreshments which he there received. Upon the
escape of Robertson, Wilson was immediately taken back to pri¬
son, and put in close custody. He was executed under the
dreadful circumstances so well known, on the 14th of April.
The story of " a young fellow with a sailor's cap slouched over
his face," having cut him down from the gibbet, on the rising of
the mob, is perfectly unfounded. The executioner was at the
top of the ladder performing that part of his office, at the time
that Porteous fired. Although the distinguished author has se¬
lected Robertson for the hero of the tale, and invested him with
many attributes worthy of that high character, historical ne¬
cessity obliges us to record that he was merely a stabler. He
kept an inn in Rurton-street, and was a man of rather dissi¬
pated habits. He is supposed to have gone abroad subsequent
to his escape, for he was never heard of after this event.
The most flagrant deviation from the truth, committed by the
author of the novel, is that in the opening of the tale, where the
crowds are represented as awaiting the execution of Captain
Porteous, in the Grass-market, the day appointed for his exe¬
cution, namely, the 7th of September. This day fell, in 1736,
on a Tuesday; and it was on the evening of that day that the
Porteous mob took place, before the appointed Wednesday, on
which day all criminals in Edinburgh are executed. Porteous's
reprieve was previously known, consequently no preparations
were made for his execution. But the conspirators, apparently,
being resolved that the object of their vindictive feeling should
not live longer than the day originally set apart for his execu¬
tion by the just execution of the law, chose the night before the
Wednesday.
291
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
The fictitious incidents of the abortive preparations for the
execution, and the expressions of the disappointed multitude on
the occasion, are handled in the author's usual masterly style and
description; and doubtless he has heightened the effect of
thought, critically viewed. We nevertheless conceive that the
probability of the narrative is lessened, by allowing too short a
space between the provocation of the mob and its vengeance. It
would seem barely possible that a conspiracy of such a deep and
well-planned nature as the Porteous mob, could have been laid
and brought to issue in the course of a single afternoon. Many
of its delegates were supposed to have come from such a dis¬
tance in the country, that even the intelligence of the reprieve
of Porteous could hardly have reached them in the time.
The incidents connected with this riot, from the time of the
mob entering the city at the west port to that of Butler's de¬
sertion of the scene at midnight, are all amazingly correct. It
is an absolute truth that they seized and detained a person of
Butler's profession, for the purpose related in the novel. This,
however, happened when they had arrived half-way to the
gallows, at the head of the West Bow. Porteous was twice
drawn up and let down again before the deed was accomplished:
first for the purpose of tying his hands, and next, to put some¬
thing over his face. The public functionaries found his body
hanging in the morning; and it was interred on the same day in
the neighbouring church-yard of Grey-Friars. It was on the
south side of the Grass-market that Porteous was hanged.
It is observed by Arnot, after relating the incidents of the
" Porteous mob," in his history of Edinburgh, that though it
was then forty years after the occurrence, no person had ever
been found out upon whom an accession to the murder could be
charged. It has been reported, however, by a very old man,
who was an apprentice in the Flesh-market of Edinburgh nearly
sixty years since, that in his younger days it was well known
among the butchers, though only whispered secretly amongst
themselves, that the leaders of this singular riot were two brothers
of the name of Cumming, who were for a number of years after
the event fleshers in the Cow-market, and that they died un¬
molested at advanced ages. They were tall, powerful, and ex¬
ceedingly handsome men; and for the occasion had dressed
themselves in women's clothes; and they are reported to have
MOBS AND EXECUTIONS.
295
been the first to jump through the flames that burnt down the
prison door, in eagerness to seize their unfortunate victim.
The following scraps and private information have been
communicated by one who was instrumental and active in the
riot. We take them on the authority of the " Beauties of Scot¬
land."
"On the day preceding that of Porteous's death, a whisper
went through the country, upon what information or authority
is not known, that an attempt would be made on the suc¬
ceeding evening, to put Captain Porteous to death. To avenge
the blood of a relative who had been killed at the execution of
Wilson, he conceived himself bound in duty to share the risk of
the attempt. Wherefore, upon the following day, he proceeded
to Edinburgh, and towards the evening stopped at Petersburgh,
which he found crowded with country people; all ol whom,
however, kept aloof from each other, so that there was no con¬
versation about the purpose of their assembling. At a later
hour, he found the inferior sort of inn in the Grass-market full
of people, and saw many persons, apparently strangers, lurking
in the different houses. About eleven at night the streets be¬
came crowded with men, who having in some measure organized
their body, by beating a drum and marching in order, imme¬
diately proceeded to secure the gates and make for the prison."
"As the multitude proceeded with Porteous down the West
Bow, some of their number knocked at the door of a shop and
demanded ropes. A woman, apparently a maid-servant, thrust
a coil of ropes out of a window, without opening the door, and
a person wearing a white apron, which seemed to be assumed for
disguise, gave in return a piece of gold as the price."
The mob of Edinburgh has ever been celebrated as the truest
in Europe. The one which accomplished the death of Porteous
was a most surprising instance of popular vengeance, almost
surpassing the bounds of belief; though it must sink conside¬
rably in our admiration, when we reflect upon the power and
ferocity which at all periods have characterised the actions of
this monstrous and danger-fraught collective. The time has
been when, in the words of the old song, " All Edinburgh,"
would " rise by thousands three," and present such a strength
to the legal authorities that all opposition to their capricious will
would be in vain. In the younger days of many now living,
29 6
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
even the boys of the High School and of Herriot's Hospital,
could erect themselves into a formidable body, equally resistless
and indomitable. It is a fact, ludicrous enough too, that when
the lads of these different schools were engaged in any of those
squabbles, formerly so frequent and fatal between them, they
always showed a singular degree of political sagacity when as¬
sailed by the town-guard,* in immediately joining their strength,
and combining against the common foe, when for the most part
they succeeded in driving them from the scene of action. When
* The city guard, of which so much mention is made in the tale of "the Heart
of Mid-Lothian," was originally instituted in 1648. Previous to that period the
city of Edinburgh had been watched in the night time by the inhabitants in
person, a certain number of whom were obliged to undertake the office in turns.
To relieve the inconveniency of this service, a body of sixty men was first
appointed, with a captain, two lieutenants, two sergeants, and three corporals;
but no regular funds being provided for the support of the establishment, it
was speedily dissolved. About thirty years after this affair, the necessity of a
regular police was again felt; and forty men were again raised. These in 1682
were augmented, at the instance of the Duke of York, to 108 men; and to
defray the expense of the company, a tax was imposed upon the citizens. At
the revolution, the town-council represented to the estates of Parliament, that
the burden was a grievance to the city; and the request to have it removed
was acceded to. They very shortly, however, had reason to regret this second
dismissal of the police; for the very next year they addressed Parliament to
allow them to raise a hody of no fewer than 120 men. Since that time the
number of the town guard had been very fluctuating, and before its late final
dissolution, amounted only to about seventy-five men. For a number of years
previous to this event, they had heen found inadequate to the protection of
the city. Riots seemed to be in some measure encouraged by the ridicule in
which the venerable corps was held ; and from their infirmities and other cir¬
cumstances, as well as from their scantiness, the more distant parts of the ra¬
pidly increasing capital, were left defenceless and exposed to the attacks of
nocturnal depredations. Their language, their manners, and their tempers, so
uncongenial with those of the citizens whom they protected, were also found
to be almost inapplicable to the purposes for which they served, and of course
operated as causes of their being disbanded. Besides, a few years before their
dismissal, a regular police, similar to that of London as it then stood, had been
established in Edinburgh, which soon completely set aside all necessity for their
services. The town guard was consequently called together for the last time,
we believe, in February, 1817; and after receiving some small gratuity from the
magistrates, and having a pension settled upon them still more trifling than their
pay, proportioned to the rank they held in the corps, they were finally dis¬
banded. The police of Edinburgh is now upon a much better footing, and is
highly spoken of for its vigilance and activity—how different from the unruly
and spirit-stirring times when the magisterial authority could be set at defiance
with impunity, when mobs could assemble under such a system of cooperation,
as even to beard royalty itself; when (in 1812) a scene of violence could be ex¬
hibited that would not have disgraced the middle ages, and when, still more to
MOBS AND EXECUTIONS.
297
such was the power of boys and striplings in this ill-protected
city, and such the disorderliness of holiday assemblies, there is
little left for wonder at the ravages committed by a mob form¬
ed of adults, actuated by violent feelings of jealousy, bigotry,
and revenge. Of this uncontrolable omnipotence of the popu¬
lace, the annals of Edinburgh present many fearful records. At
the various periods of the reformation and the revolution, the
chapel of Rosslin was destroyed by a mob, whose purpose nei¬
ther cooled nor evaporated in traversing a distance of eight
miles. James VI. was besieged and threatened in his courts, and
in the midst of his parliaments, by a rabble of mechanics, who,
but for the stout walls of theTolbooth, might perhaps have taken
his life. The fine chapel of Holyrood House was pillaged of not
only its furniture and other valuables, but also of the still more
sacred bones which lay within its precincts, by a mob which
rose at the revolution, and did such deeds of violence and ra¬
pine as fanaticism and ignorance alone could have excited. At
the unfortunate issue of the Dover expedition, at the execution
of Captain Green, at the Union, and at many other events of
less importance, the populace of Edinburgh distinguished them¬
selves by insurrection and acts of outrage, such as have alone
found parallels, perhaps, in the various transactions of the
French revolution. Even so late as 1812, there happened a fo¬
ray of a most appalling nature; the sports of an occasion of re¬
joicing were converted into scenes of frightful riot, unexampled
as they were unlooked for. The fatal melancholy catastrophe
of this event had, however, the good effect of quenching the
spirit of licentiousness and blackguardism in the Edinburgh youth,
and finally undermined that system of unity and promptitude in
action, and in council, by which its mobs had so often triumphed
in their terrible resolutions.
An Edinburgh mob, although it may supply excellent subjects
for tales, in all its characteristic fierceness and insubordination,
is now a matter of mere antiquity. It is confessedly a subject
of pleasing reflection, to find that things are now better managed ;
be lamented, the protection of property was so uncertain, that alluding to the
motto of the city arms, it was but too strictly true that,
" Unless the Lord the city watched.
The watchman watched in vain .'"
298
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
and such is the perversity of the human imagination, that we
cannot help looking back upon the days of Bowed Joseph, as a
period of infinitely higher chivalry, and of better, though fiercer
feeling than the present. In the same manner we regret the
destruction of the ancient Tolbooth, * the scene of so many
astonishing incidents, though it deserved to be removed as a
nuisance to the street. Even the good old rats must be lamented,
in their extinction, as more romantic beings than modern po¬
licemen.
Helen Walker.—It is not, we believe, generally known, that
the characters in 'Uhe Heart of Mid-Lothian" are founded
on fact, and that the originals resided for the greater part of
their lives in the immediate neighbourhood of Dumfries.—The
History of the prototype of the imaginary Jeanie Deans, will
be found in the Introduction and its Postscript, placed at the
head of the Novel
* The demolition and final removal of the Tolbooth, was appropriately con¬
temporaneous with the abolition of the city guard. This building, which makes
such a conspicuous figure in "the Heart of Mid-Lothian," was originally erected
in 1561, for the accommodation of the Scottish parliament and courts of justice,
and for the confinement of debtors and malefactors, a strangely incongruous as¬
sociation of purposes, which would appear to have been at all periods charac¬
teristic of the magistrates of the metropolis; a police-office and a church being
joined under one roof, at no great distance from that great fabric. The Tol¬
booth had been used solely as a jail since 1640. It was not deficient in other
interesting recollections, besides being the scene of the Porteous mob. Here
Queen Mary delivered, what are termed by John Knox, her painted orations;
and here her son was pent up in terror and dismay, by the infuriated mob of
Edinburgh, which they afterwards suffered and atoned for so severely. On
its dreary summits had also been successively displayed the heads of a Morton,
a Gowrie, a Huntly, a Montrose, and an Argyle, besides those of many of infe¬
rior note. A part of this edifice had been devoted to the use of the city guard,
ever since the removal of their former rendezvous in the High Street. Many
will still recollect a veteran or two leaning over a half-door, on the north side
of the jail. Could their eyes have penetrated still further into the gloomy inte¬
rior, a few more distinct features might have been perceived, smoking round a
fire, or reading an old newspaper; while the unintelligible language which they
spoke, might assist the idea of their resemblance to a conclave of demons, in
some of the under-nooks of Pandemonium. In fine weather, a few of the vene¬
rable corps might be seen creeping about the south front of the prison, with Loch-
aber axes over their shoulders, or like the lazzaroni of Naples, lolling lazily on
a form with the white-haired Cerberus of the Tolbooth door, and basking in the
sun, " in all the lubber luxury of mental and corporeal abandonment." A trace
of their existence is dispersed over a waste of visioned recollection, and future
generations will think of the city guard, as they think of the Forty-five, of the
Friends of the people, or of the last year's snow!
DADDIE RATCLIFFE.
299
Daddie Ratcliffe.—The personage under this name, who
cuts such a conspicuous figure in "the Heart of Mid-Lothian,"
was a real character of the same name, as may be found by
examination of the criminal records of Scotland. He happened
to be in durance, along with an accomplice, for horse-stealing,
at the time when Wilson and Robertson lay under sentence of
death in the Tolbooth. The room which he occupied with his
companion, lay exactly above the apartment of those criminals,
with whom he and Stewart had contrived a method of escape,,
a few days before the time appointed for their execution. Rat¬
cliffe and Stewart procured saws and other instruments from
without, by means of pack-thread dropped from the window,
rendering every impediment clear for the grand attempt.
On Tuesday morning, the 9th of April, they hauled up Ro¬
bertson and Wilson through a large hole which they had cut
in the floor, and prepared themselves for escape. An accomplice
had knocked down the sentinel on guard below, and a rope was
hung from their window to the ground. Stewart came down
the three stories, and immediately escaped; but Wilson, who,
contrary to the desire of the rest, next attempted to pass, was
not so fortunate. Being a thick round man, he stuck in the
grate, and before he could be disentangled, the guard was
alarmed. Robertson and Ratcliffe were thus prevented from
making their espace, by the obstinacy of Wilson, who had
insisted on a first chance, contrary to their will.
This is the true statement of an incident related somewhat
differently in the novel. Ratcliffe afterwards made his escape,
at the general liberation which took place at the Porteous mob;
in celebration of which occasion, a poet, of the name of Alexan¬
der Mcol, has written a song entitled, "Ratcliffe's farewell to
the Tolbooth," to be found in the volume published by that
unfortunate bard. Ratcliffe's promotion to a place in the keeping
of the prison, happened at a subsequent period of incarceration,
namely 1745, when the prisoners of the Tolbooth were liberated
by the Highland army. The veteran criminal, being pretty sure
of eventual liberty, pretended to have political principles ol
such a patriotic nature, that he could not, consistent with his
conscience, take advantage of the opportunity of escape thus
afforded; and on examination, damned the "Jacobite crew"
300
THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.
with such good effect, that he got into some favour with the
magistrates, and was employed by them in an office under their
government, in much the same manner assigned to the incident
in the tale. Ratcliffe afterwards held a command in the town
guard; and it is surmised, that his name had a syllable in the
affair of stigmatising that venerable civic army, with the op¬
probrious name of "rats."
St. Leonard's Crags.—Where David Deans' cottage is repre¬
sented to have been are irregular ridges with a slight vegetation,
situated in the south-west boundary of the King's Park. Adjacent
to them, and bearing their name, there exists a sort of village,
now almost enclosed by the approaching limits of the city. The
neighbouring extremity of the Pleasance, with this little place,
seemed to have formed at one period the summer residences or
villas of the inhabitants of Edinburgh; some of the houses even
yet bearing traces of little garden-plots before the door, and other
peculiarities of what is still the prevailing taste in the creation of
boxes. None of these may, however, have existed in the age of
David Deans. Mr. James Gray, a gentleman not unknown to
fame, inhabits one which may safely be supposed to stand upon
the very site of " Douce David's,"—if it be possible at all to point
out the " local habitation" of an idea. In former times St. Leo¬
nard's crags and the adjoining valley used to be much resorted
to by duellists. This part of their history is, however, to he
found at full length in " the Heart of Mid-Lothian." There is a
case of duel on record in which a barber challenged a chimney
sweeper, and fought him with swords, near this spot, about the
end of the sixteenth century. The affair proved bloodless. But
the king afterwards ordered the unfortunate barber to be exe¬
cuted, for having presumed to take the revenge of a gentleman.
Muschat's Cairn, so conspicuously introduced into this tale,
was a heap of stones placed upon the spot where a barbarous
murder was committed, in the year 1720. The murderer was
descended of a respectable family in the county of Angus, and
had been educated to the profession of a surgeon. When in
Edinburgh, in the course of his education, it appears that he
made an imprudent match with a woman in humble life, named
Margaret Half. He shortly repented of what he had done, and
LOCALITIES.
301
endeavoured by every means to shake himself free of his wife.
The attempts which he made to divorce, to forsake, and to
poison her, proved all unsuccessful; till at length he resolved,
in the distraction caused by his frequent disappointments, to
rid himself of his incumbrance by the surest method, that of
cutting her throat. The day before the perpetration of the
deed, he pretended a return of affection to the unfortunate
woman; and in the evening took her to walk with him, in the
direction of Duddingston. The unhappy creature was averse
to the expedition, and entreated her husband to remain in Edin¬
burgh; but he persisted in spite of her tears in his desire of
taking her with him to that village. When they had got nearly
to the extremity of the path which is called the Duke's Walk,
(having been the favourite promenade of the Duke of York,
afterwards King James II.) Muschat threw her upon the ground,
and immediately proceeded to his purpose. During her re¬
sistance he wounded her hand and chin, which she held down,
thus intercepting the knife; and he declared in his confession
afterwards taken, that but for her long hair, with which he
pinned her to the earth, he could not have succeeded in his
purpose, her struggles being so great. Immediately after the
murder, he went and informed some of his accomplices, and took
no pains to escape apprehension. He was tried and found
guilty upon his own confession, and after being executed in the
Grassmarket, was hung in chains upon the Gallowlee.* A
cairn of stones was erected upon the spot where the murder
* The Gallowlee was not the usual place of execution; but the most flagrant
criminals were generally hung there in chains. Many of the martyrs were
exhibited on its summit, which Patrick Walker records with due horror. It
ceased to be employed for any purpose of this kind, about the middle of the
last century, since which period no criminals have been hung in chains in Scot¬
land. Its site was a rising ground immediately below the Botanic Garden, in
Leith Walk. When the new town was in the progress of building, the sand
used for the composition of the mortar was procured from this spot; on which
account the miracle of a hill turning into a valley has taken place, and it is at
the present day that low beautiful esplanade of which Eagle and Henderson's
nursery is formed. The Gallowlee turned out a source of great emolument to
the possessor, six-pence being allowed for every cartful of sand that was taken
away. But the proprietor was never truly benefitted by the circumstance.
Being addicted to drinking, he was in the habit of spending every sixpence as
he received it. A tavern was commenced near the spot, which was formerly
unaccommodated with such a convenience, for the sole purpose of selling
302
THE HEART OF MID-LOTIIIAN.
took place in token of the people's abhorrence and reprobation
of the deed. It was removed several years since, when the
Duke's walk was widened and levelled by Lord Adam Gordon.
St. Anthony's Chapel, among the ruins of which Robertson
found means to elude the pursuit of Sharpitlaw, is an interest¬
ing relic of antiquity, situated on a level space about half way up
the north-west side of the mountain called Arthur's Seat. It lies
in a westerly direction from Muschat's Cairn, at about the dis¬
tance of a furlong; and the Hunter's bog, also mentioned in this
tale, occupies a valley which surrounds all that side of the hill.
The chapel was originally a place of worship, annexed to a her¬
mitage at the distance of a few yards : and both were subservient
to a monastery of the same name, which anciently flourished on
the site of St. Andrew's Street, in Leith. In the times of
Maitland and Arnot, the ruin was almost entire; but now there
only remains a broken wall and a few fragments of what has
once been building, but which are now scarcely to be distin¬
guished from the surrounding grey rocks—so entirely has art in
this case relapsed into its primitive nature, and lost all the cha¬
racteristics of human handy work. The slightest possible traces
of a hermitage are also to be obseiwed, plastered against the
side of a hollow rock ; and further down the hill, there springs
from the foot of a precipice, the celebrated St. Anthony's well.
Queen Mary is said to have visited all these scenes; and somehow
or other, her name is always associated with them, by those who
are accustomed to visit, on a Sunday afternoon, their hallowed
precincts. They are also rendered sacred in song, by their
introduction into one of the most beautiful, most plaintive and
most poetical of all Scotland's ancient melodies :
" I leant my back unto an aik,
I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bowed and syne it hrak,,
Sae my true love's forsaken me.
whiskey to Matthew Richmond, and he was its only customer. A fortune was
soon acquired of the profits of the drink alone, and when the source of the
affluence ceased, poor Matthew was left poorer than he had originally been,
after having flung away the proffered chance of immense wealth. Never did
gamester more completely sink the last acre of his estate, than did auld Matthew
Richmond drink down the last grain of the sand-hill of the Gallowlee.
THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.
303
Oh! Arthur's Seat shall be my bed,
The sheets shall ne'er be fyled by me;
St. Anton's well shall be my drink,
Sin' my true love's forsaken me.'" &c.
The situation is remarkably well adapted for a hermitage,
though in the immediate neighbourhood of a populous capital.
The scene around is as wild as a Highland desert, and gives an
air of seclusion and peacefulness as complete. If the distant din
of the city could at all reach the hermit's ear, it would appear
as insignificant as the murmur of the waves around the base of
the isolated rock, and would be as unheeded.
THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.
The scene of this tale is laid in the reign of Charles I., and
the chief characters are as follow:
John Hamilton, second son of Sir Walter Hambledon of
Cadzow, ancestor of the Dukes of Hamilton, married the heiress
of Innerwick, in East Lothian, in the reign of King Robert Bruce,
and was the progenitor of "a race of powerful barons," who
flourished for about three hundred years, and "intermarried
with the Douglasses, Homes," &c. They possessed a great many
lands on the coast of East Lothian, betwixt Dunbar and the
borders of Berwick-shire, and also about Dirleton and North
Berwick. They had their residence at the Castle of Innerwick,
now in ruins. Wolff's Crag is supposed to be the Castle of
Dunglas; and this supposition is strengthened by the retour* of
a person of the name of Wolff, in the year 1647, of some parts
of the Barony of Innerwick, being on record, and the castle
having been blown up by gunpowder in 1640, a circumstance
slightly noticed in the Tale, but too obvious to be mistaken. Of
this family the Earls of Haddington are descended. The last of
them was a Colonel Alexander Hamilton, who was in life in
1670, and had been abroad for some time—thus agreeing with
the story in one particular which had a material influence on
* A retour is a law term, signifying the report of the verdict of a jury, which,
by the law of Scotland, is the mode of proving the propinquity of an heir, so
as to entitle him to be invested in his predecessor's estate.
304
THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.
the fortunes of the family. In him the direct male line became
extinct, and, according to the prophecy, his name was " lost for
evermore." The circumstances of this family, and the period of
their decline, agree so exactly with the tale, that, unless the
local scene of it be altogether a fiction, it appears, at first view,
scarcely possible to doubt that the Lords of Ravenswood and
the Ilamiltons of Innerwick were the same.
The subject of the story has received considerable elucidation
from an Introduction annexed to the last edition of the Waverley
Novels,* wherein it is stated, that Lucy Ashton was one of the
daughters of the first Lord Stair. This nobleman was certainly
the only lawyer at that period who enjoyed the power and in¬
fluence said to have been possessed by Sir William Ashton; and
the circumstances, as related in Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe's edition
of Law's "Memorialls," particularly the expression made use of
by the bride, of "Take up your bonnie bridegroom," may, if
well authenticated, be considered as decisive of the question. It
is difficult, however, to trace any connexion between Lord Stair
and the family of Innerwick, or that he ever was in possession
of their property. In this view of the case, the parallel between
Ravenswood and Hamilton of Innerwick does not hold so well.
As the identity of Sir W. Ashton with Lord Stair is established,
there was another family in more immediate contact with him, in
whose history there are several events which seem to indicate
that the Author had it in his eye in the representation he has
given of the Ravenswoods; unless, as is very probable, he has
blended the history of both together in the manner that best
suited his purpose. The family here alluded to is that of Gor¬
don, Viscount Kenmure, in Galloway, between which and the
Lords of Ravenswood there are several points of resemblance.
—For instance, the barony of Gordon, in Berwickshire, where
the Gordons had their first settlement in Scotland, and which
continued for a long time in this branch of the name, is in the
immediate vicinity of Lammermoor, and probably suggested the
idea of laying the scene in that neighbourhood.—The names of
the Castle (or Barony) and of the Barons themselves, were the
same. Their history " was interwoven with that of the kingdom
itself," a well known fact.—The Viscount of Kenmure was en-
* Tales of my Landlord, 3d series.
CALEB BALDERSTONE.
305
gaged in the civil wars in the reign of Charles I., and was for¬
feited by Cromwell for his steady adherence to that monarch. In
him also the direct line of the family suffered an interruption, the
title having at his death devolved on Gordon of Penninghame,
who appears to have been much involved in debt, and harassed
with judicial proceedings against his estate. This latter again es¬
poused the sinking side in the Revolution of 1688, and com¬
manded a regiment at the battle of Killicrankie. These coinci¬
dences are to be overlooked. And it may be added, in further
illustration, that Lord Stair, on being advanced to an earldom
about this period, took one of his titles from the barony of
Glenluce, which once belonged to a branch of the house of
Kenmure.
The Author admits his having disguised dates and events, in
order to take off the application to the real personages of the
story, which they must otherwise have pointed out. Of this sort
are several anachronisms which appear in the work,—such as
a Marquis of A. (evidently Athol, from the letter to Ravenswood
dated at B. or Blair), when the Tory Ministry of Queen Anne
got into power, which was only in 1710, when Mr. Harley suc¬
ceeded Lord Godolphin as Treasurer; whereas the nobleman
here alluded to was a Duke so far back as 1703. The time at
which the events really took place must also have been long
prior to this period, for Lord Stair died in 1695; and the change
in administration by which Sir William Ashton lost his influence,
probably refers to Lord Stair's removal from his office in 1682.
It may here be remarked, that the family of Stair was by no
means so obscure and insignificant as that of Sir William Ashton
is represented to have been. They possessed the barony of Dal-
rymple* in the reign of King Alexander III.: they acquired the
barony of Stair by marriage in 1450. They made a considerable
figure during the reign of Queen Mary; and took an active part
in the Reformation along with the confederate lords who had
associated in defence of the Protestant religion. It must be ad¬
mitted, however, that they made a greater figure at this time,
and during a subsequent period, than they ever did before.
Caleb Baldf.rston.—The prototype of Caleb Balderstone
* Douglas's Peerage.—Earl of Stair.
20
306
THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.
was perhaps Laird Bour, a servant of the Logans of Restalrig,
in 1600. It is evident that the character is just a Scottish edition
of Garrick's Lying Valet. We have discovered, however, a
solitary trait of Caleb, in a Scotch innkeeper of real existence,
who lived long in the south country, * and died only a few years
ago. We subjoin a very brief notice of-this person, whose name
was Andrew Davidson, and who was once possessed of a con¬
siderable estate,—that of Green-house in the county of Roxburgh.
But being a man of great wit and humour, his society was courted
by young men of idle and dissipated habits, who led him into
such expenses as shortly proved prejudicial to his fortunes. He
was then obliged to sell off his estate and betake himself to a hum¬
bler line of life. Keeping a small grocery and spirit shop always
presents itself to men in such circumstances, as a means of sub¬
sistence requiring least instruction and most easily set afloat. He
accordingly commenced that line of business in Jedburgh; but,
being considered as an intruder into the burgh, and opposing
certain ancient residenters, who were supposed to be more law¬
fully, justly, and canonically entitled to trade in the town than
any new upstart, he did not meet with that success which he
expected. In consequence of this illiberal treatment, he conceived
the most rancorous hatred for the inhabitants of Jedburgh, and
ever after spoke of them in the most violent terms of hatred
and contempt. His common language was,—" that not an indi¬
vidual in the town would be judged at the last day,—Jedburgh
would be at once damned by the slump / "
He again resolved to commence the profession of agriculture,
and took the farm of Habton, in the neighbouring parish of Crail-
ing. This speculation, however, succeeded no better than the
shop. By associating himself with the opulent farmers and gen¬
tlemen of the vicinity, by whom his company, as a man of wit
and jollity, was always much sought after, his ancient habits of
extravagance returned; and, though in poorer circumstances,
being obliged to spend in equal style with these ruinous friends,
the surviving wrecks of his fortune were soon dissipated, and he
was obliged to become a bankrupt.
When a man, who has freely lavished his fortune and his
humour in the entertainment of friends above his own rank,
* It is exceedingly remarkable that the greater part of the Author of Wa-
verley's prototypes were natives of this district.
CALEB BALDERSTCNE.
SOT
becomes incapable of further sacrifice, it is most natural for such
friends to forsake and neglect him.
Mr. Davidson was, however, more fortunate in his compa¬
nions. After his misfortune, they induced him to open a house
of entertainment at Ancrum Bridge; laid in for him a slock of
wines, spirits, &c.; made parties at his house; and set him
fairly a-going. This was a line in which he was calculated both
to shine and to realize profit.
The peculiarity of character, for which we have placed his
name against that of Caleb Balderstone, here occurs. Whenever
there alighted any stranger of a more splendid appearance than
ordinary, he was suddenly seized with a fit of magniloquency,
and, in the identical manner of Caleb Balderstone, would call
Hostler No. 10 down from Hay-loft No. 15, to conduct the
gentleman's " beast" to one of the best stalls in the Stable No. 20!
He would then, with a superabundance of ceremony, show the
stranger into a chamber, which he would declare with the great¬
est assurance to be No. 40 ; and on his guest asking perhaps
for a glass of rum, would order a waiter, whom he baptized
(nolens volens) No. 15 for the occasion, to draw it from the
cask in the bar marked 95. Then was the twelfth hen-roost to
be ransacked, and a glorious fowl, the best that could be selected
from a stock of about one thousand or so, to be consigned to
the hands of the Head Cook herself (God knows his house
boasted only one, who was Scullion and Boots besides). All
this rhodomontade was enacted in a style of such serious ef¬
frontery, and was accompanied by such a volubility of talk, and
flights of humour, and bustling activity, that any one not previously
acquainted with his devices, would have given him and his house
credit for ten times the size and respectability they could actually
boast of.
Mr. Davidson afterwards removed to the inn at Middlelon,
where he died, in good circumstances, about thirty years ago.
He was a man of very brilliant talents, distinguished much by
that faculty entitled by the country people ready wit. He had a
strong memory, a lively and fertile imagination, and possessed
powers of discourse truly astonishing. The prevailing tone of
his mind was disposed to ridicule. He had a singularly felicitous
knack of giving any thing improper in his own conduct or ap-
20 *
308
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
pearance a bias in his favour, and could at all times, as we have
seen, set off his own circumstances in such a light as made them
splendid and respectable, though in reality they were vulgar and
undignified.
Craigengelt is a runagate captain in the army, most villa-
nously inclined, but without purse, principle, or courage. The
picture of old Ailie is exquisite, and beyond the reach of any
other living writer. The hags that convene in the churchyard,
have all the terror and sublimity, and more than the nature of
Macbeth's witches; * and the courtship at the Mermaiden's
well, as well as some of the immediately preceding scenes, are
full of dignity and beauty.—The catastrophe of the Bride, though
it may be founded on fact, is too horrible for fiction.—But that
of Ravenswood is magnificent—and, taken along with the
prediction which it was doomed to fulfil, and the mourning and
death of Balderstone, is one of the finest combinations of super¬
stition and sadness which the gloomy genius of fiction has
ever put together.
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
A representation of the manners of the Highland clans in the
16th century, appears to admirable advantage in the Legend of
Montrose; and certainly, so far as it goes, it is not in this respect
short of Waverley or Rob Roy. The fidelity of the description
is equal to the vigour with which it is executed. It will be hard,
we have no doubt, to persuade our readers on this side the
Tweed, that the Novelist has not given too fierce and bloody a
character to the Celts, in that age of turmoil and convulsion.
Were we called upon to move this persuasion, we would quote
neither history nor tradition; we would give them ocular proof;
we would point to the old Highland castles, many of which are
entire and uninhabited, and which afford in their structure
* This unrivalled creation of the illustrious author of Waverley is (with the
exception of Kenilworth) the only story wherein the fortunes of the principal
characters end unhappily. His mind, evidently, so overflowed with 'the milk
of human kindness,' that, even in an imaginary production, he disliked to re¬
present human nature in any other light than that of vice punished and virtue
rewarded.
MONTROSE.
309
within and without the clearest evidence of the barbarian periods
in which they were built. Every castle has its dungeon, or
gibbet, or its block—its trap stair, and its subterraneous pas¬
sage. When massacres and midnight murders were designed,
and often directed by the chiefs in person (many of whom were
men of knowledge and learning), no wonder that revenge and
fury towards a foe should characterise a clansman, whose law
was his chieftain's mandate, and who had no idea of proper
conduct, but what upheld the power and dignity of his tribe.
If the hero of a fictitious narrative be the most prominent and
active personage in it, it cannot be said that Montrose is the hero
of his own legend. A certain redoubted Major Dalgetty, who
had fought under the most distinguished commanders on the
Continent, particularly " the immortal Gustavus, the lion of the
north," appears the most conspicuous of all the bustling persons
of the novel. He is brave and faithful, but is too opinionative not
to be ridiculous, and has too much of the hireling of his nature
to procure much heart-felt respect either from his employers or
from the reader.
The revengeful blood-thirsty M'Creagh is conceived with
accuracy, and described with striking power; yet though he
possesses the darker traits of human nature, he does not resemble
any one of the repulsive personages of the former novels from
the same hand. Allan M'Aulay, on whom a considerable part
of the interest of the legend is made to turn, is well supported
throughout; but the character had never an original in the High¬
lands of Scotland: a seer was always an object of superstitious
respect, never of terror. The knowledge of future events, which
he deemed himself gifted with; his perpetual prying into the
womb of time, gave him a pensiveness of demeanour and habits
of retirement that kept him aloof from the scenes of violence
and blood that passed around him. Allan foresees and fulfils.
At one time he is a peaceful reflecting sage, at another a savage
and a plunderer.
The Great Montrose,—whose fortunes form the groundwork
of the Tale, was the only son of John, fourth Earl of Montrose,
by Lady Margaret Ruthven, daughter of William, first Earl of
Gowrie. He was born in the year 1612, succeeded his father
in 1626, and was married soon after, while yet very young—a
310
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
circumstance which is said to have somewhat marred his edu¬
cation. He travelled into foreign parts, where he spent some
years in study, and in learning the customary accomplishments
of that period, in which he excelled most men; and he returned
home in 1634.
xMeeting with a cold and forbidding reception at Court, his
Lordship joined the supplicants, in 1637, and became one of the
most zealous supporters of the Covenant in 1638. Next year
he had the command of the forces sent to the north against the
town of Aberdeen, which he obliged to take the Covenant; and
the Marquis of Huntly, who, on his approach, disbanded the men
he had raised, was sent prisoner to Edinburgh. Lord Aboyne
appearing in arms in the north the same year, Montrose was dis¬
patched against him, and totally routed his forces at the Bridge
of Dee. When the pacification of Berwick was concluded, Mont¬
rose was one of the noblemen who paid their respects to Charles
I. at that place, in July, 1639.
Next year an army being raised to march into England, Mont¬
rose had two regiments given him, one of horse and one of foot.
He led the van of that army through the Tweed, on foot, and,
totally routing the vanguard of the King's cavalry, contributed to
the victory at Newburn. But, inl643, moved with resentment
against the Covenanters, Montrose espoused the falling cause of
loyalty, and raised the Highland clans, whom he united to a small
body of Irish, commanded by Alexander Macdonald, still renowned
in the north under the title of Colkitto. With a few troops col¬
lected in Westmoreland, he first raised the royal standard at Dum¬
fries, in April, 1644, but was soon obliged to retire into England;
and he was excommunicated by the commission of the General
Assembly. To atone, however, for so severe a denunciation, the
King, about this time, raised him to the dignity of Marquis; and
he soon after had the pleasure of routing the Parliament army
at Morpeth. He was next successful in throwing provisions into
Newcastle. After the defeat of Prince Rupert at Marston Moor,
in July, 1664, he left his men with that general, and went to
Scotland. At this period of his adventures the Author of Waver-
ley takes him up in his Legend of Montrose.
Disguised as a groom, with only two attendants, Montrose ar¬
rived in Strathern, where he continued till rumour announced the
approach of 1500 Irish, who, after ravaging the northern extre-
MONTROSE.
311
mity of Argyleshire, had landed in Skye, and traversed the exten¬
sive districts of Lochaber and Badenoch. On descending into
Atholl, in August, 1644, they were surprised with the unexpected
appearance of their general, Montrose, in the garb of a High¬
lander, with a single attendant; but his name was sufficient to
increase his army to 3000, for commanding whom he had the
King's warrant. He attacked an army of Covenanters, amount¬
ing to upwards of 6000 foot and horse, at Tippermuir, 1st Sep¬
tember, totally routed them, and took their artillery and baggage,
without losing a man. Perth immediately surrendered to the vic¬
tor ; but, Argyle approaching, he abandoned that place as unte¬
nable, took all the cannon, ammunition, and spoil of the town
with him, and went north. He defeated the Covenanters a second
time at the Bridge of Dee on the 12th of September; and, con¬
tinuing the pursuit to the gates of Aberdeen, entered the town
with the vanquished.
Argyle came from Stirling to Perth on the 10th of September ;
he passed the Tay in boats which Montrose had left undestroyed,
and pursued that general to the north. Meanwhile, Montrose
had left Aberdeen, and sought the assistance of the Gordons; but
finding the Spey well guarded, he retreated over the mountains
to Badenoch, burying his artillery in a morass. He descended
into Atholl and Angus, pursued by Argyle, but by a sudden march
repassed the Grampians, and returned to rouse the Gordons to
arms. At Fyvie, he was almost surprised by Argyll, 27th Octo¬
ber, 1644, but maintained a situation, advantageously chosen,
against the reiterated attacks of a superior army, till night, when
he made good his retreat into Badenoch. He immediately pro¬
ceeded into Argyleshire, which he ravaged, and sentence of for¬
feiture was passed against him in Parliament.
So extraordinary were the evolutions of Montrose, that on
many occasions the appearance of his army was the first notice
the enemy had of his approach; and of his retreats, the first
intelligence was that he was beyond their reach. Argyle, ex¬
asperated with the devastation of his estates, marched against
Montrose; but he, not waiting to be attacked, marched thirty
miles, by an unfrequented route, across the mountains of Loch¬
aber, during a heavy fall of snow, and came at night in front
of the enemy, when they believed him in a different part of the
country. The chiefs of the Campbells, who were indeed a set
31-2
A LEGEND OP MONTROSE.
of very brave men, and worthy of a better chief and a better
cause, began the battle next day with great courage. But the
first ranks discharging their muskets only once, Montrose's men
fell in upon them furiously, sword in hand, with a loud shout,
and advanced with such great impetuosity, that they routed the
whole army, and put them to flight, and pursued them for about
nine miles, making dreadful slaughter the whole way. There
were 1500 of the enemy slain, among whom were several
gentlemen of distinction of the name of Campbell. Montrose,
though an enemy, pitied their fate, and used his authority to
save and give quarter to as many as he could. In this battle
Montrose had several wounded, but he had none killed but
three privates, and Sir Thomas Ogilvie, son of the Earl of
Airley, whilst Argyle lost the Lairds of Auchinbreck, Glensaddell,
and Lochnell, with his son and brother,—and Barbreck, Inne-
raw, Lament, Silvercraigs, and many other prisoners. It is
to be considered, that few of this army could have escaped,
if Montrose had not marched the day before the fight thirty-
three miles (Scots miles), on little food, and crossed sundry-
waters, wet and weary, and standing in wet and cold the whole
night before the fight.
Montrose, flushed with victory, now proceeded to Moray, where
he was joined by the Gordons and Grants. He next marched to
the southward, taking Dundee by storm; but being attacked by
a superior force under Baillie and Hurry, began to retreat. Bail-
lie and Hurry divided their forces, to prevent his return to the
north; but, by a masterly movement, he passed between their
divisions, and regained the mountains. He defeated Hurry at
Meldrum, near Nairn, on the 14th May, 1645, by a manoeuvre
similar to that of Epaminondas at Leuetra and Mantinea. In
that battle, the left wing of the Royalists was commanded by
Montrose's able auxiliary, Alister Macdonell, or Maccoul (as he
is called in Gaelic), still celebrated in Highland tradition and song
for his chivalry and courage. An elevation of ground separated
the wings. Montrose received a report that Macdonell's wing
had given way, and was retreating. He instantly ran along the
ranks, and called out to his men that Macdonell was driving the
enemy before him, and, unless they did the same, the other wing
would carry away all the glory of the day. His men instantly
rushed forward, and charged the enemy off the field, while he
MONTROSE.
313
hastened with his reserve to the relief of his friend, and reco¬
vered the fortune of the day. At this battle, in which 2000
Covenanters fell, Campbell of Lawers, though upwards of se¬
venty years of age, fought on the Presbyterian side, with a two-
handed broadsword, till himself, and four of his six sons, who
were with him, fell on the ground on which they stood. Such
was the enemy which the genius and courage of Montrose over¬
came. Pursuing his victory, Montrose encountered and defeated
Baillieat Alford, on the 2d of July; but on this occasion his suc¬
cess was embittered by the loss of Lord Gordon, who fell in
the action. His victories attracted reinforcements from all parts,
of the country: he marched to the southward at the head of 6000
men, and fought a bloody and decisive battle near Kilsyth, on
the 15th August, when nearly 5000 Covenanters fell under the
Highland claymore.
This last and greatest of his splendid successes opened the
whole of Scotland to Montrose. He occupied Glasgow and the
capital, and marched forward to the Border, not merely to com¬
plete the subjection of the southern provinces, but with the flat¬
tering hope of pouring his victorious army into England, and
bringing to the support of Charles the swords of his paternal
tribes.
Montrose was now, however, destined to endure a reverse of
his hitherto brilliant fortune. After traversing the Border coun¬
ties, and receiving little assistance or countenance from the
chiefs of these districts, he encamped on Philiphaugh, a level
plain near Selkirk, extending about a mile and a half along the
banks of the rivers Tweed and Ettrick. Here he posted his in ¬
fantry, amounting to about 1500 men, while he himself and his
cavalry, to the amount of about 1000, took up their quarters in
the town of Selkirk.
Recalled by the danger * of the cause of the Covenant, Ge¬
neral David Lesly came down from England at the head of those
iron squadrons whose force had been proved in the fatal battle
of Long Marston Moor. His army consisted of from 5000 to
6000 men, chiefly cavalry. Leslie's first plan seems to have
been to occupy the midland counties, so as to intercept the re¬
turn of Montrose's Highlanders, and to force him to an unequal
* Border Minstrelsy, vol. iii,
314
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
combat. Accordingly, he marched along the eastern coast from
Berwick to Tranent; but there he suddenly altered his direction,
and, crossing through Mid-Lothian, turned again to the south¬
ward, and, following the course of Gala Water, arrived at Mel¬
rose the evening before the engagement. How it is possible that
Montrose should have received no notice whatever of the march
of so considerable an army seems almost inconceivable, and
proves that the country was very disaffected to his cause or
person. Still more extraordinary does it appear, that, even
with the advantage of a thick mist, Lesly should have, the next
morning, advanced towards Montrose's encampment without
being descried by a single scout. Such, however, was the case,
and it was attended with all the consequences of a complete sur-
prisal. The first intimation that Montrose received of the march
of Lesly was the noise of the conflict, or rather that which at¬
tended the unresisted slaughter of his infantry, who never formed
a line of battle: the right wing alone, supported by the thickets
of Harehead-wood, and by their entrenchments, stood firm for
some time. But Lesly had detached 2000 men, who, crossing
the Ettrick still higher up than his main body, assaulted the rear
of Montrose's right wing. At this moment the Marquis arrived,
and beheld his army dispersed, for the first time, in irretriev¬
able rout. He had thrown himself upon a horse the instant he
heard the firing, and, followed by such of his disordered ca¬
valry as had gathered upon the alarm, he galloped from Selkirk,
crossed the Ettrick, and make a bold and desperate attempt to
retrieve the fortune of the day. But all was in vain; and after
cutting his way, almost singly, through a body of Lesly's troopers,
the gallant Montrose graced by his example the retreat of the
fugitives. That retreat he continued up Yarrow, and over
Minchmoor; nor did he stop till he arrived at Traquair, 16 miles
from the field of battle. He lodged the first night at the town
of Peebles. Upon Philiphaugh he lost, in one defeat, the fruit
of six splendid victories; nor was he again able effectually to
make head in Scotland against the covenanted cause. The
number slain in the field did not exceed 300 or 400; for the fu¬
gitives found refuge in the mountains, which had often been the
retreat of vanquished armies, and were impervious to the pur¬
suer's cavalery. Lesly abused his victory, and disgraced his arms,
by slaughtering in cold blood many of the prisoners whom he
MON THOSE.
315
had taken; and the court-yard of Newark Castle is said to have
been the spot upon which they were shot by his command.
Many others are said by Wishart to have been precipitated from
a high bridge over the Tweed,—a circumstance considered
doubtful by Laing, as there was then no bridge over the Tweed
between Peebles and Berwick, though the massacre might have
taken place at either of the old bridges over the Ettrick and
Yarrow, which lay in the very line of flight and pursuit.*
After this reverse of fortune, Montrose retired into the north.
In 1646, he formed an association with the Earls of Sutherland
and Seaforth, and other Highland chieftains, and they laid siege
to Inverness; but General Middleton forced Montrose to retreat,
with considerable loss. Charles I. now sending orders to Mont¬
rose to disband his forces and leave the kingdom, he capitulated
with Middleton, July, 1646, and an indemnity was granted to
his followers, and he was permitted to retire to the Continent.
The capitulation was ratified by Parliament, and Montrose was
permitted to remain unmolested in Scotland for a month to settle
his affairs.
He now proceeded to France, where he resided two years.
He had the offer of the appointments of general of the Scots in
France, lieutenant-general of the French army, captain of the
gens d'armes, with an annual pension of 12,000 crowns, and a
promise of being promoted to the rank of marechal, and to the
captaincy of the King's guards, all which preferments he de¬
clined, as he wished only to be of service to his own King. He
retired privately from Paris, in May, 1648, went to Germany, and
from thence to Brussels, where he was, at the period of the
King's execution, in 1649. He then repaired to the Hague,
where Charles II. resided, and offered to establish him on the
throne of Scotland by force. The King gave him a commission
accordingly, and invested him with the order of the garter.
Montrose, with arms supplied by the court of Sweden, and money
by Denmark, embarked at Hamburgh, with 600 Germans, and
landed in Orkney in spring 1650, where he got some recruits,
and crossed over to Caithness with an army of about 1400 men ;
and he was joined by several Royalists as he traversed the wilds
* A covenanted minister, present at the execution of these gentlemen, ob¬
served,—" This wark gaes bonnily on!" an amiable exclamation, equivalent to
the modern ga ira, so often used on similar occasions.
316
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
of Sutherland. But, advancing in Rosshire, he was surprised,
and totally defeated, at Invercharron, by Colonel Strachan, an
officer of the Scottish Parliament, who afterwards became a de¬
cided Cromwellian. Montrose's horse was shot under him; but
he was generously remounted by his friend, Lord Frendraught.
After a fruitless resistance, he at length fled from the field,
threw away his ribbon and George, changed clothes with a coun¬
tryman, and thus escaped to the house of M'Leod of Assint,*
by whom he was betrayed to General Lesly.
Whatsoever indignities the bitterness of party rage or reli¬
gious hatred could suggest, were accumulated on a fallen, illus¬
trious enemy, formerly terrible, and still detested. He was
slowly and ostentatiously conducted through the north by the
ungenerous Lesly, in the same mean habit in which he was taken.
His devastations were not forgotten,—his splendid victories
never forgiven,—and he was exposed, by excommunication,
to the abhorrence and insults of a fanatical people. His sen¬
tence was already pronounced in Parliament, on his former at¬
tainder, under every aggravation which brutal minds can delight
to inflict. He was received by the Magistrates of Edinburgh at
the Watergate, 18th May, 1650, placed on an elevated seat in a
cart, to which he was pinioned with cords, and, preceded by his
officers, coupled together, was conducted, bareheaded, by the
public executioner, to the common gaol. But his magnanimity
was superior to every insult. When produced to receive his
sentence in Parliament, he was upbraided by the Chancellor with
his violation of the Covenant, the introduction of Irish insurgents,
his invasion of Scotland during a treaty with the King; and the
temperate dignity which he had hitherto sustained, seemed, at
first, to yield to indignant contempt. He vindicated his dere¬
liction of the Covenant, by their rebellion,—his appearance in
arms, by the commission of his Sovereign,—and declared, that
as he had formerly deposited, so he again resumed his arms,
by his Majesty's command, to accelerate the treaty commenced
with the States. A barbarous sentence, which he received with
an undaunted countenance, was then pronounced by a Parlia¬
ment who acknowledged Charles to be their King, and whom, on
that account only, Montrose acknowledged to be a Parliament,
* M'Leod got 100 bolls of meal from the Covenanters for his treachery.
MONTROSE.
317
—that he should be hanged for three hours, on a gibbet 30 feet
high,—that his hand should be affixed to the common gaol—his
limbs to the gates of the principal towns—and his body interred
at the place of execution, unless his excommunication were taken
off, and then it might be buried in consecrated ground. With
dignified magnanimity, he replied, that he was prouder to have
his head affixed to the prison walls than his picture placed in the
King's bedchamber; "and far from being troubled that my limbs
are to be sent to your principal towns, I wish I had flesh enough
to be dispersed through Christendom, to attest my dying attach¬
ment to my King." It was the calm employment of his mind
that night to reduce this extravagant sentiment to verse. He
appeared next day on the scaffold, in rich habit, with the
same serene and undaunted countenance, and addressed the
people, to vindicate his dying unabsolved by the church, rather
than to justify an invasion of the kingdom during a treaty with
the Estates. The insults of his enemies were not yet exhausted.
The history of his exploits, which had been written in Latin by
Bishop Wishart, and published all over Europe, was attached
to his neck by the executioner: but he smiled at their inventive
malice,—declared that he wore it with more pride than he had
done the garter,—and when his devotions were finished, de¬
manding if any more indignities were to be practised, submitted
calmly to an unmerited fate. "
His genius was great and romantic, in the opinion of Cardinal
de Retz, no mean judge of human nature, approaching the
nearest to the ancient heroes of Greece and Rome. But his
heroism was wild and extravagant, and was less conspicuous
during his life than from the fortitude with which he sustained
an ignominious death.
Montrose's sentence, in all circumstances, was executed ad
lilteram. His head was stuck upon the tolbooth of Edinburgh,
where it remained, blackening in the sun, when his master
Charles II., soon thereafter, arrived in the Scottish metropolis.
His limbs were dispersed to Perth, Glasgow, Stirling, and
Aberdeen, and his body was buried at the place of execution,
from whence it was afterwards removed to the common moor,
whence it was lifted at the Restoration. On this event, when
Laing's History, vol. i.
31S
A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.
Charles found opportunity for testifying his respect for Montrose,
his scattered remains were collected. There was a scaffold
erected at the tolbooth, and some ceremony was used in taking
down his head from its ignominious situation. According to
Kirkton, some bowed and some knelt while that relict was
removed from the spike, which was done by Montrose's kins¬
man, the Laird of Gorthie, who, according to the covenanting
account, died " in consequence," after performing his triumphant
but melancholy duty. The Laird of Pitcurre, too, who in his
joy had drank a little too much on the occasion, was, by the
same account, found dead in his bed next morning; though
we find little hesitation in giving the brandy more of the credit
due to that event than what the Presbyterian annalist is pleased
to call " the pleasure of Heaven." Montrose's remains were
deposited in Holyrood-house, where they remained some time
instate; and, on the 14th of May, 1651, they were buried,
with great pomp and ceremony, in the cathedral church of
St. Giles.
Such is a brief but correct historical detail of the events
which the Author of Waverlev has confounded and misrepre¬
sented, for his own purposes, in the "Legend of Montrose."
We have given at best but a meagre outline of the events, but
as they run in their proper series, our narrative will serve
to correct the irregularity into which the Great Novelist has
thrown them. It may here be observed, that the last event
in the Tale is the attempted murder of Lord Menteith, which
our Author has placed after the battle of Inverlochy. Now this
circumstance, which was of real occurrence, took place on the
6th of September, 1644, a few days after the battle of Tipper-
muir; whereas the battle of Inverlochy happened on the 1 st of
February, 1645, five months after. We have made some col¬
lections respecting the assassination, and give the result.
John, Lord Kinpont, the Lord Menteith of " A Legend of
Montrose," was the eldest son of William, seventh Earl of Men¬
teith, and first Earl of Airth, who rendered himself remarkable
in the reign of Charles I., by saying that he had " the reddest
blood in Scotland," alluding to his descent from Euphemia Ross,
then supposed the first wife of Robert II.,—in consequence of
which expression he was disgraced and imprisoned by his of¬
fended Sovereign. Lord Kinpont married, in 1632, Lady Mary
MURDER OF LORD MENTEITII.
319
Keith, a daughter of Earl Marishal; consequently he could not
be the hero and lover which he is represented to have been in
the fiction, and the story of Allan Macaulay's rivalry, which
prompted to the wicked deed, must be entirely groundless.
Kinpont joined Montrose in August, 1644, with recruits to the
amount of 400 men, and was present at the battle of Tippermuir,
immediately following. A few days thereafter, James Stewart
of Ardvoirlich basely murdered his Lordship, at Colace in
Perthshire. A different colour is given to this circumstance by
different narrators. A citizen of Perth, who wrote a manu¬
script giving an account of some remarkable events in his own
time, says simply that Stewart committed the murder " because
Lord Kinpont had joined Montrose." But, in Guthrie's Memoirs,
we find, that " Stewart having proposed to his Lordship a plan
to assassinate Montrose, of which Lord Kinpont signified his
abhorrence, as disgraceful and devilish, the other, without
more ado, lest he should discover him, stabbed him to the heart,
and immediately fled to the Covenanters, by whom he was par¬
doned and promoted. The Marquis of Montrose, deeply af¬
fected with the loss of so noble a friend, gave orders for con¬
veying his body in an honourable manner to Menteith, where
he was interred." In the " Staggering State of Scots States¬
men," * we find the following passage : " The Lord Kinpont,
being with James Graham in the time of the late troubles, was
stabbed with a dirk by one Alexander Stewart, and his lady,
daughter of the Earl of Marishall, was distracted in her wits
four years after." Here a remarkable discrepancy is observ¬
able. The assassin is termed Alexander, whereas every other
authority gives James as his Christian name.
Wishart says, that such was the friendship and familiarity of
Kinpont with his murderer, that they had slept in the same bed
the night previous to the horrid deed, which took place, it ap¬
pears, in the grey of the morning. It is true that he killed also
" the sentinel who stood at the entry of the camp, it being so
* Scott of " Scottstarvet's Staggering State of Scots Statesmen" is a curious
memoir, written shortly after the Restoration, but not printed till early in the
year 1754, after the death of the persons whose characters and actions are
mentioned with so little respect in the course of its satirical details. It is ad¬
verted to, as in a condition of manuscript, at page 152 of the Bride of Lam-
mermoor; and the Author appears to have made some use of its informations
in the construction of the subsequent Talc.
320
THE MONASTERY.
dark that those who pursued him could not see the length of
their pikes. Montrose was very much afflicted with the un¬
timely fate of this nobleman, who had been his own special friend,
and most faithful and loyal to the King his master, and who,
besides his knowledge in polite literature, philosophy, divinity,
and law, was eminent for his probity and fortitude."—Memoirs,
p. 84.
THE MONASTERY.
Like many other of the author's productions, the romance of
the Monastery embraces an important period in history. It
outstrips the task of the grave historian, in the lively and spirit-
stirring picture of manners and morals which it presents, and
shows from what causes, and into what forms, principles and
institutions of the highest character were moulded. The mind
is thus drawn into the very web and texture of existing society;
it is taught the true feelings and existence of the people, and
is thus enabled to survey public transactions exempt from the
exaggerations of party zeal. These excellences shine conspicuously
in the present work; and no where could they be more fitly
employed, than in the delineation of the features of that fierce
and distracted period out of which the Reformation arose. The
author has brought into view the struggles of the catholic and
the protestant—the one party exerting every nerve to continue
the fetters of superstition, and the other striving to dash them
to pieces. The contest, however, was far from equal. The
liberal opinions of the age had every where damped the ardour
of devotion towards the Romish faith, and combining with
reasons of state, gave the reformers a vast advantage over their
adversaries. But the zeal of the latter, in maintaining their rights,
seemed only proportionate to the decline of their influence.
The thunders of excommunications fulminated far and near.
Bulls of damnation were scattered profusely, and all the refine¬
ment of Italian intrigue put in practice, to check the growth of
new opinions. But these spiritual weapons, which might once
have shaken the throne of the greatest potentate in Europe, were
now treated with contempt. The light which had broken in upon
the human mind, enabled it to discern the dark and insidious
CHARACTERS.
321
policy of the catholics. The national spirit was roused to its
highest pitch of desperation, and events followed in thick suc¬
cession, which exhibited a mingled scene of bigotry and ferocity,
hitherto unknown in the annals of Scotland. These evils were
aggravated by the weakness of the reigning powers. The reins
of government lay neglected in the hands of the feeble and
irresolute Arran; the nobles were divided by bitter feuds, and
seemed more solicitous to ferment than to allay the discord of
the kingdom.
The natural consequence which followed these distractions
was the unrelenting fury with which private quarrels were
prosecuted. Feudal retainers swarmed on every side, ready to
plunge into the greatest atrocities; distrust and alarm pervaded
every mind. The mild precepts of the christian religion, delivered
in the simple language of scripture, to hearts capable of feeling
and practising them, abated the rancour of persecution, and
restored in some degree peace and liberty to our unhappy land.
But soon after these bright prospects had begun to dawn, the
ravages of the restless became apparent, in the demolition of
those sumptuous fabrics which had been so long the stronghold
of catholic tyranny. Various indeed have been the apologetical
replies for the Gothic infatuation of the reformers, for having laid
violent hands on these works of art. Into the question of right
or wrong, it were needless to enter. We must remain satisfied
with the melancholy consolation of beholding their shattered
fragments, fast mouldering into decay; from them to body
forth lively images of their quondam magnificence. Nor have
our poets slumbered over the mournful task: Sir Walter Scott
has made the most strenuous efforts to collect the fragments of
Border antiquity. The names of places are concealed under
fictitious designations; and their peculiarities are beautified
above reality by the glorifying lights of his imagination. These,
however, as far as the means goes, we must discover and strip
off, that Scotland may hereafter know where to drop the classic
tear over scenes that erst had been visited by the most favoured
of her poetic children.
The character of Captain Clutterbuck may be said to represent
a certain species of men to be found in almost every Scottish
village of any extent. Sergeant M'Alpine, in the Legend of
Montrose, is another picture of them, and perhaps a more
21
322
THE MONASTERY.
complete one than Clutterbuck. They are the scattered wrecks
of war, drifted upon the beach of retirement, and left to waste
away. They chiefly roost about little towns in remote parts of
the country, where society is not expensive, and where half-
pay procures the necessaries of life in the best possible style.
Here there always exist one or two of these individuals, ren¬
dering the place respectable by their presence, and receiving a
sort of spontaneous homage from the people, in virtue of their
independence, their gentility, and their scars. Like the fading
relics of the City Guard, they change the most warlike of their
habiliments for others more consonant with the costumes of
peace; but yet, though the scarlet be gone from the coat and
the sword from the hand, they do not altogether shake off the
airs of war. There is still something of the parade to be observed
in the small-ruffled shirt, the blue-necked coat, and the shoe-
buckles; while the military walking-cane is but a slight de¬
falcation, in either dignity or ferocity, from its predecessor,
the sword. The walk, proud, portly and erect, is another
relic of military habit that can never be abandoned: and every
other little punctuality of life and manners, such as soldiers are
accustomed to, is equally pertinacious in clinging to the person
of the disbanded officer. Such persons have long-winded stories
about Ticonderago and Mount Abraham, which every one of
their acquaintance has known by heart these twenty years; and
yet such is the respect paid to the good old gentlemen, that
amazement as naturally follows the unfolding of the story, and
the laugh comes as ready on the catastrophe of the joke, as ever.
No one could be uncivil to the Captain.
The grave-digger of Kennaquhair, who has the honour of
speaking a few words in this work, must have been John Martin,
who was professor of the same trade in Melrose. He is now
dead. Mr. David Kyle, a very respectable and worthy man,
who kept the Cross Keys Inn at Melrose, is also dead. He was
in the custom of keeping an Album in his house, for the amuse¬
ment of his guests; though we cannot say as to the truth of
his having had a copy of the " great Dr. Samuel Johnson's
tower to the Hebrides, in his parlour window, wi' the twa
boards torn aff."
The first and most prominent object of attention, in the scenery
MELROSE ABBEY.
32'.5
of this Romance, is the Monastery itself, which is the renowned
Abbey of Melrose, situated upwards of thirty-five miles from
Edinburgh to the south. It is the most beautiful and correct
specimen of Gothic architecture in Scotland; and has been
universally admired for the elegance and variety of its sculpture,
the beauty of its stone, the multiplicity of its statues, and the
symmetry of its parts. It was founded, in 1136, by the pious
David I., who dedicated it to the Virgin Mary.
Less than a quarter of a mile to the west of the Abbey, there
is a green bank, which reaches to the height of some hundred
feet above the level of the Tweed. It is termed the Weird Hill,
from a dim tradition of the fairy tribe having haunted the spot,
and held high conclave touching the whimsies to be practised on
the wights who came under their ire. Immediately below this
bank, is the weird or dam-dyke, where it is believed the poor
Sacristan was ducked by the White Lady,—a lineal descendant
of the ancient inhabitants of the hill.
Following the course of the Tweed upwards, that is, towards
the west, about a mile and a half, we arrive at the ruins of the
Old Bridge, which once formed the regular communication to
the Monastery. It appears to have been constructed of timber,
in the form of a draw-bridge, with three pillars; the middle
pillar containing a wooden house for the Bridge-keeper. From
this bridge there was a plain way to Soutra Hill, along the
northern bank of the Tweed, which was named the Girth-gate, *
from an hospital, having the privileges of Sanctuary, which was
founded at Soutra, by Malcolm IV., for the relief of pilgrims and
of poor and infirm persons who journeyed southwards. This
way was so good and easy, that, as a learned divine remarked,
it might strongly remind the traveller of the paths to the cities
of refuge. There were also two Hostelries or Inns at that place,
which could well afford, from their stores, an elegant dejeune
to Sir Piercie Shafton and his "fair Molinara."
A few yards from the bridge alluded to, the Elevand or Allan
water discharges itself into the Tweed. It is this little mountain
brook (rising from Allan-shaws on the boundary of Melrose
parish towards the north), that forms the beautiful valley of
Glendearg, described in the romance. Advancing from the
* Girth signifies a Sanctuary, or place of refuge.
21 *
321
THE MONASTERY.
strath of the river, in the northern direction from Melrose, we
discern the stream meandering in crystal beauty throughLanglee
Wood. The serpentine turns of its course oblige the traveller
frequently to pass and repass it, in the line of the foot-track;
but this is attended with no inconvenience, from the number
of rustic bridges which are thrown over it. Emerging from the
wood, the glen opens to the view. On one side of it (to the
east), rises a precipitous bank, of a reddish colour, with here
and there small patches of green sward. On the opposite side
the eminences do i^ot swell so high, but form a perfect contrast
to the other. This improvement, however, is recent, as thirty
years have scarcely elapsed since they displayed an aspect almost
as barren as the opposite ridge. The little brook which runs
below is not perceptible from either height, so deeply is its
channel embosomed in the narrow dell. As we proceed onwards
under a shade of alders, the glen gradually widens, and, about
400 yards from whence it opens, a singular amphitheatre meets
the eye. It is somewhat in the shape of a crescent, through
which the water passes, leaving a pretty large channel. The
opposing precipices are thickly belted with copse-wood and
tseveral mountain shrubs, which entwine with the branches of
the beech and birch-trees. This place is called the Fairy or
Nameless Den, from some curiously-shaped stones, which
are said to be found after great falls of rain. * But perhaps a
better reason for the appellation arises from the situation itself,
which afforded a hidden rendezvous for the elfin race, with
which superstition peopled many parts of this district during the
grandeur of the Abbacy. No one, however, will deny that the
White Lady of Avenel might here have fixed her residence, and
delivered her responses to young Glendinning, or that it might
have served as a secluded corner for deadly strife. Though the
holly bush cannot be discovered, yet the spring of water may
easily be conjectured, by the curious observer, in the swampiness
of portions of the ground now covered with sward.
The scenery of the remainder of the glen is extremely pictu¬
resque, but unmarked by any striking varieties.
At other times, it sends a puny rill into some of the deep
* These are found in several fantastic shapes, such as guns, cradles, boots,
&.c. and are justly supposed to he the petrifactions of some mineral spring
hard by.
HILLSLOP TOWER.
recesses or ravines which have found their way between the
hills. As the top of the glen is neared, the hills show a greater
slope, till we arrive at the green mount, on which stands
Hillslop Tower, on the property of Borthwick of Crookston,
from which there is no doubt Glendearg has been depicted. The
outward walls are still entire, and, from their thickness and
oblong form, with the port-holes with which they abound, show
it to have been formerly a place of some strength. This seems
also probable, from the bleakness and wildness of the surrounding
scenery. High mountainous ridges, the castles of nature, tower
on every side, whose bosoms sometimes display the naked grey
rock encircled with fern and heath, and, at other times, with
excellent verdure. But no cultivated field greets the eye, and the
solemn stillness which reigns around is only broken by the gentle
murmuring of the rivulet. The situation of the old tower is
well chosen, as, from the direction in which the hills run, a
sort of circle is formed, which not only screens it from the north
and east winds, but could easily debar all intercourse with the
neighbouring country.
The date of the old tower, if a sculpture on the lintel of the
entrance can be credited, is 1585; and its inhabitants seem to
have been of some consequence, from its interior appearance.
At the foot of the stair, which projects almost to the door, there
is a long narrow apartment, with an arched roof lighted by a
loop-hole window, w hich, in the olden times, formed the pen
for the proprietor's cattle, when danger was apprehended. It
would suit well for the place of concealment suggested by the
miller's daughter for Sir Piercie, before the unbarring of the
door. The decayed stone staircase leads to a common-sized
hall, with a large chimney-piece; but from the height of the
walls, and other circumstances, there must have been another
room of equal dimensions above it. There are also the remains
of some small rooms, which complete the accommodations of
ihe mansion.
At a little distance from the foot of the tower, the straggling-
ruins of small outhouses are discerned, which were once con¬
nected with the principal building. A short way farther, to the
north, stand the ruins of Colmsley and Langshaw, the former
of which places is alluded to by its name in the Romance.
THE MONASTERY.
Leaving Glendearg, it is necessary to follow the progress of
the Romance towards the Castle of Avenel, alias Smailholm
Tower. The distance between the two places is nearly seven
miles. There is no regular road, but a track can be discovered,
which runs eastward from Hillslop, through the base of the
Gattonside, a small chain which runs from E. to W., in the
direction of Melrose. The path is a most unenviable one; for,
besides the obstacles of ditch and furze, it is intersected by deep
morasses, which often render it quite impassable. In threading
it, we pass Threepwood and Blainslie Mosses, the favourite
resort of the Moss-troopers who kept the peaceful inhabitants
in continual alarm. Their ravages were particularly extensive
during the usurpation of Cromwell, who allowed these depre¬
dators to scourge Scotland unpunished.
Smailholm Tower.—We hope to be able to show, from the
description of this ancient fortress, that it agrees in the leading
features with Avenel Castle; and if the reader will carry back his
imagination for two centuries, he will be better able to minute
the resemblance. Smailholm Tower, distant about seven miles
from Melrose to the east, and eight from Kelso to the west, is
the most perfect relic of the feudal keep in the south of Scotland.
It stands upon a rock of considerable height, in the centre of an
amphitheatre of craggy hills, which rise many hundred feet
above the level of the fertile plains of the Merse. Between the
hills, there appear ravines of some depth, which, being covered
with straggling clumps of mountain shrubs, afford an agreeable
relief to the rocks which are continually starting upon the eye.
Nature indeed seems to have destined this isolated spot for a
bulwark against the Border marauders; but its strength and
security was not confined to the encircling eminences. It chiefly
lay in a deep and dangerous loch, which completely environed
the castle, and extended on every side to the hills. Of this
loch only a small portion remains, it having been drained many
years ago, for the convenience of the farmer on whose estate
it was thought a nuisance. But the fact is evident, not only from
the swampiness of the ground, which only a few years since
created a dangerous morass, but from the appearance of the
remaining pool, which has hitherto defied the efforts of the
numerous drain-beds which surround it in every direction. Same
SMAILHOLM TOWER.
327
people in the neighbourhood recollect and can mark out the
extent of the large sheet of water which gave so romantic an air
to this shred of antiquity.
The early years of Sir W. Scott were passed in the farm¬
house of Sandyknowe (about a bow-shot from the tower), with
a maternal aunt, whose mind was stored with Border legends,
which she related to her youthful charge. With this instruc¬
tress, and by poring incessantly for many years on the relics of
antiquity which are to be found in the neighbourhood, it is
probable that he first received the impressions that afterwards
came forward to such an illustrious maturity, and stored his
imagination with those splendid images of chivalry that have
since been embodied in imperishable song.
The external appearance of the tower may be briefly de¬
scribed. The walls are of a quadrangular shape, and about
nine feet in thickness. They have none of the decorations of
buttress or turret; and if there were any ornamental carving,
time has swept it away. A ruined bartizan, which runs across
three angles of the building, near the top, is the only outward
addition to the naked square donjon. The tower has been
entered on the west side, as all the other quarters rise perpen¬
dicularly from the lake. Accordingly, there we discern the
fragments of a causeway, and the ruins of a broad portal,
whence a drawbridge seems to have communicated with an
eminence about a hundred yards distant. On this quarter also
there may be traced the site of several small booths which con¬
tained the retainers or men-at-arms of the feudal lord.
The history of the ancient possessors of the tower is involved
in obscurity. We only know that there were Barons of
Smailholm, but no memorable qualities are recorded of them.
The present proprietor, Air. Scott, of Harden, is not a descendant
of that ancient family, as he acquired the estate by purchase.
This gentleman cares so little for the antique pile within his do¬
mains, that it is not long since he intimated his intention to raze
it to the ground, and from its materials to erect a steading to
the farm of Sandyknowe. This would have certainly taken
place, had not his poetic kinsman, Sir Walter Scott, interfered,
and averted the sacrilegious intent; and to prevent the recur¬
rence of the resolution, he composed the admired ballad of the
328
THE ABBOT.
Eve of St. John, which ranks among 4he best in the Border
Minstrelsy.
Tradition bears, that it was inhabited by an aged lady at the
beginning of the last century, and several old people still alive
remember of the joists and window-frames being entire. A
more interesting legend exists, of which the purport is, that
there was once a human skull within this tower, possessed of the
miraculous faculty of self-motion to such a degree, that, if taken
away to any distance, it was always sure to have found its way
back to its post by the next morning.* This may perhaps re¬
mind the reader of the strange journeys performed by the
" black volume" in the Monastery, whose rambling disposition
was such a source of terror and amazement to the monks of
St. Mary's.
THE ABBOT,
Although not better than the Monastery, is fuller of historical
painting, and, in the higher scenes, has, perhaps, a deeper and
more exalted interest. The Popish zealots, whether in the
shape of prophetic crones or heroic monks, are very tiresome
personages. Catherine Seyton is a wilful deterioration of Diana
Vernon,' and is far too pert and confident; while her paramour
Roland Graeme is, for a good part of the work, little better than
a blackguard boy, who should have had his head broken twice
a day, and been put nightly in the stocks for his impertinence.
Some of the scenes at Lochleven are of a different pitch;—
though the formal and measured sarcasms which the Queen and
Lady Douglas interchange with such solemn verbosity have a
very heavy and unnatural effect. These faults, however, are
amply redeemed by the beauties with which they are mingled.
There are some grand passages of enthusiasm and devoted
courage in Catherine Seyton. The escape from Lochleven is
* This story is told in the "Border Antiquities." Since we copied it, in¬
formation has been communicated, deriving the report from a ridiculous and
most unromantic incident. The skull was moved from its place in the castle
by a rat, which had found a lodgment in its cavity, and contrived to take it
hack to a particular apartment on finding it removed to any other.
KENILWORTH.
3-29
given with great effect and spirit *—and the whole mustering and
march to Langside, as well as the battle itself, are full of life
and colouring. The noble bearing, and sad and devoted love
of George Douglas—the brawl on the streets of Edinburgh, and
the scenes at Holyrood, both serious and comic, as well as many
of the minor characters, such as the ex-abbot of St. Mary's
metamorphosed into the humble gardener of Lochleven, are all
in the genuine manner of the author, and could not have
proceeded from any other hand. On the whole, however, the
work is unsatisfactory, and too deficient in design and unity.
We do not know why it should have been called ' The Abbot,'
as that personage has scarcely any thing to do with it. As an
historical sketch, it has neither beginning nor end;—nor does
the time which it embraces possess any peculiar interest:—and
for a history of Roland Graeme, which is the only denomination
that can give it coherence, the narrative is not only far too
slight and insignificant in itself, but is too much broken in upon
by higher persons and weightier affairs, to retain any of the
interest which it might otherwise have possessed.
KENILWORTH.
This Novel rises almost, if not altogether, to the level of
Ivanhoe. Displaying, perhaps, as much power in assembling
together and distributing in striking groups the copious historical
materials of that romantic age, as the other does in ekeing out
their scantiness by the riches of the author's imagination. Eli¬
zabeth herself, surrounded as she is with lively and imposing
recollections, was a difficult personage to bring prominently
forward in a work of fiction; but the task, we think, is not only
fearlessly but admirably performed; and the character brought
out, not merely with the most unsparing fulness, but with the
most brilliant and seducing effect. Leicester is less happy; and
we have certainly a great deal too much both of the blackguardism
of Michael Lambourne, the atrocious villany of Varney and
Foster, and the magical dealings of Alasco and Wayland Smith.
* The Abbot, p. 505 and seq.
330
KENILWORTH.
Indeed, ralmost all the lower agents in the performance have
a sort of demoniacal character; and the deep and disgusting
guilt by which most of the main incidents are developed, make
a splendid passage of English history read like the Newgate
Calendar, and give a certain horror to the story, which is
neither agreeable to historical truth, nor attractive in a work
of imagination. The great charm and glory of the'piece, however,
consists in the magnificence and vivacity of the descriptions with
which it abounds; and which set before our eyes, with a freshness
and force of colouring which can scarcely ever be gained except
by actual observation, all the pomp and stateliness, the glitter
and solemnity, of that heroic reign. The moving picture of
Elizabeth's night entry to Kenilworth, is given with such spirit,
richness, and copiousness of detail, that we seem actually trans¬
ported to the middle of the scene. We feel the press, and hear
the music and the din—and descry, amidst the fading lights of
a summer eve, the majestical pacings and waving banners that
surround the march of the heroic Queen; while the mixture of
ludicrous incidents, and the ennui that steals on the lengthened
parade and fatiguing preparation, give a sense of truth and reality
to the sketch, that seems to belong rather to recent recollection
than mere ideal conception. The account of Leicester's princely
hospitality, and of the royal divertisements that ensued,—the
feastings and huntings, the flatteries and dissemblings, the pride,
the jealousy, the ambition, the revenge,—are all portrayed with
the same animating pencil—and leave every thing behind—but
some rival works of the same unrivalled artist. The most
surprising piece of mere description, however, that we have ever
seen, is that of Amy's magnificent apartments at Cumnor Place,
and of the dress and beauty of the lovely creature for whom
they were adorned. * We had no idea before that upholstery
could be made so engaging; and though we are aware that it is
the living Beauty that gives its enchantment to the scene, and
breathes over the whole an air of voluptuousness, innocence,
and pity, it is impossible not to feel, that the vivid and clear
presentment of the visible objects by which she is surrounded,
and the antique splendour in which she is enshrined, not only
strengthen our impressions of the reality, but actually fascinate
* Kenilworth, p. 66 and seq.
IvENILWORTH CASTLE.
331
and delight us in themselves,—just as the draperies and still life
in a grand historical picture divide our admiration with the
pathetic effect of the story told by the principal figures. The
catastrophe of the unfortunate Amy is too sickening and full of
pity to be endured; and we shrink from the recollection of it,
as we would from that of a recent calamity of our own. The
part of Tressilian is unfortunate on the whole, though it contains
touches of interest and beauty. The sketch of young Raleigh
is splendid, and in excellent keeping, with every thing beside
it. More, we think, might have been made of the desolate age
and broken-hearted anguish of Sir HughRobsart; but there are
one or two little traits of his paternal love and affection that are
inimitably sweet and pathetic, and which might have lost their
effect, perhaps, if the scene had been extended. We do not
care much about the goblin dwarf, nor the host, nor the mercer,
—nor any of the other characters. They are all too fantastical
and affected. They seem copied rather from the quaintness of
old plays, than the reality of past and present nature; and serve
better to show what manner of personages were to be met with
in the masks and pageants of the age, than what were actually
to be found in the living population of the land.
Kenilworth Castle was built by Geffry de Clinton, Treasurer
to King Henry I., but it continued not long in this family, for, in
the eleventh of Henry II., the Sheriff of Warwick reckoned with
the Crown for the profits of the Park, and it was garrisoned by
the King, on account of the rebellion of his eldest son.
Geffry de Clinton, son and heir of the founder, appears to
have recovered for a time the possession of this castle ; but he
held it scarce seven years; and after that time it was never out
of the possession of the Crown, till granted by Henry III. to
Simon Montfort, Earl of Leicester, and Eleanor, his wife, during
their lives. This Earl, joining with the Rarons, was, with his
eldest son, slain at the battle of Evesham; but the castle was
six months held against the King by Henry de Hastings, ap¬
pointed governor by Simon de Montfort, son of the deceased
Earl, he being absent in France, whither he went in order to
solicit assistance to raise the siege. During this attack, the gar¬
rison defended themselves with great resolution, having engines
which cast stones of an extraordinary bigness, and likewise
332
KENILWORTII.
making frequent and successful sallies. A violent pestilential
disorder breaking out amongst the garrison, and their provisions
being nearly exhausted, they agreed, on certain conditions, to
yield up the Castle to the King, unless relieved on a fixed day;
a messenger was, by permission, dispatched to acquaint Mont-
fort of this agreement ; but, before his return, the disorder in¬
creasing, they surrendered.
Bishop Gibson, in his edition of Camden, says, ' near this
Castle they still find balls of stone sixteen inches in diameter,
supposed to have been thrown in slings in the time of the
Barons' warsthe balls were most probably designed for par¬
ticular engines: their weight, supposing them only of the same
specific gravity as Portland stone, would be upwards of two
hundred weight, by far too great a mass to be thrown by the
strength of an human arm. After the siege, the King bestowed
the Castle on his son Edmund, and his heirs ; he likewise
granted him free chase and free warren in all his demesne
lands and woods belonging thereto, with a weekly market and
annual fair.
Here, in the time of Edward I., was held a gallant assembly
of an hundred knights and as many ladies, headed by Roger
Mortimer, Earl of March, to which many repaired from foreign
parts. The knights exercised themselves in tilting and other
feats of chivalry ; the ladies in dancing. It is recorded, seem¬
ingly as an extraordinary circumstance, that these ladies were
clad in silken mantles. Their diversions began on the eve of
St. Matthew', and lasted till the morrow after Michaelmas-day.
They styled themselves the Society of the Round Table, from
one at which they were seated, in order to avoid contention for
precedency.
In the 15th of Edward II., this Castle escheated to the Crown
by the attainder of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, beheaded at
Pontefract; when it was successively committed to the custody
of Ranulph Charum, Robert de Stoke, John de Hastings, and
Odo de Stoke. The unfortunate Edward, being deposited by his
Queen, was here kept close prisoner, and afterwards removed in
the night to Berkeley Castle, where he was shortly after cruelly
murdered.
In the thirteenth of Edward III., Henry, brother and heir to
the Earl of Lancaster, beheaded at Pontefract, had all his bro-
KENILWORTH CASTLE.
333
tlicr's estates restored to him ; among which was this Castle.
His sons leaving only two daughters, on a partition, the Castle
fell to Blanche, the younger, who married John of Gaunt, by
whom, towards the latter end of the reign of Richard II., was
built that part of the Castle, still called Lancaster's Buildings.
In the disputes between the two houses of York and Lancas¬
ter, this fortress was alternately taken by the adherents to the
Red Rose and the White; but what has made it most remarka¬
ble, in history, was the celebrated Fete Champ^tre given there
by the Earl of Leicester to Queen Elizabeth, which for expense
and magnificence is said to have exceeded any thing of the kind
ever known in these kingdoms. The Earl had previously re¬
paired the Castle in a most noble manner, and it contained arms
for a garrison of 10,000 men.
This F&te Champetre, unlike those of modern date, lasted
ten days. The Queen, with a numerous train of courtiers, ac¬
cording to Sir William Dugdale, arrived there in the middle
of July, 1575, and was surprised at her entrance with the sight
of a floating island on the large pool there, bright blazing with
torches, on which were clad in silks the Lady of the Lake and
two nymphs waiting on her, who made a speech to the Queen,
in metre, of the antiquity and owners of that Castle, which was
closed with cornets and other music. Within the base court
was a noble bridge set up of twenty feet wide, and seventy feet
long, over which the Queen passed; on each side whereof, on
posts erected, were presents on them to her by the Gods, viz,
a cage of wild fowl, by Sylvanus; divers sorts of fruits, by Po¬
mona; of corn, by Ceres; of wine, by Bacchus; of sea-fish, by
Neptune; of all habiliments of war, by Mars ; and of musical in¬
struments, by Phoebus. Also, during the several days of her
stay, various raree-shows and sports were exercised, viz. in the
chase, a savage man with satyrs, bear-baitings, fire-works,
Italian tumblers, a country bride-ale, with runnings at the quint-
ing and morrice-dancing; and that nothing might be wanting
which those parts could afford, the Coventry men came and
acted the ancient play, long since used in that city, called Hock's
Tuesday, setting forth the destruction of the Danes in King
Ethelred's time; which pleased the Queen so much, that she
gave them a brace of bucks, and five marks in money, to bear
the charges of a feast. On the pool there was a Triton riding
334
KENIL WORTH.
on a mermaid, eighteen feet long, as also Arion on a dolphin, and
rare music. The costs and expenses of these entertainments
may be guessed at by the quantity of beer then drunk, which
amounted to three hundred and twenty hogsheads of the or¬
dinary sort; and, for the greater honour thereof, Sir Thomas
Cecil, son and heir to the Lord Burleigh, Lord Treasurer; Sir
Henry Cobham, brother to the Lord Cobham; Sir Thomas
Stanhope, and Sir Thomas Tresham, were then knighted; and
the next ensuing year, the Earl obtained a grant of the Queen
for a weekly market at Kenilworth, on the Wednesday, with a
fair yearly on Midsummer day.
After the revolutions of the reign of Charles II., this piece of
antiquity gradually fell to decay, till it became the awful ruin it
now appears.
The principal gateway of the above Castle has been convert¬
ed into a farm-house, and is indeed the only part of these ruins
that is now inhabited. On entering into the inner court, the
beholder is struck with the sight of many mouldering towers,
which preserve a sort of magnificence, even in their ruins. On
the west side of the court is a broken tower, which leads to a
path-way on the top of the walls, from whence a most delightful
prospect of the country may be seen around.
Yet, in this humble state, it hath had the fortune to outlive
the glory of the rest, and hath even drawn to itself the whole
of that little note and credit, which time hath continued to this
once pompous building. For, while the castle itself is crumbled
into shapeless ruins, and is profaned, as we there see, by
the vilest uses, this outwork of greatness is left entire, sheltered
and closed in from bird and beast; and even affords some decent
room, in which the human face is not ashamed to show itself.
There is also something else that fires one on the occasion.
It brings to mind the fraud, the rapine, the insolence of the
potent minister, who vainly thought to immortalise his ill-
gotten glory by this proud monument. Nay, further, it awakens
an indignation against the prosperous tyranny of those wretched
times, and creates a generous pleasure in reflecting on the
happiness we enjoy under a juster and more equal government.
Who can see the remains of that greatness, which arose in the
past ages on the ruins of public freedom and private property,
without congratulating themselves on living at a time, when the
THE PIRATE.
335
meanest subject is as free and independent as those royal mi¬
nions ; and when his property, whatever it be, is as secure from
oppression as that of the first minister?
THE PIRATE.
This is a bold attempt to make out a long and eventful story,
from a very narrow circle of society, and a scene so circumscribed
as scarcely to admit of any great scope or variety of action;
and its failure, in so far as it may be thought to have failed,
should, in fairness, be ascribed chiefly to this scantiness and
defect of the materials. The author, accordingly, has been
obliged to borrow pretty largely from other regions. The cha¬
racter and story of Mertoun (which is at once commonplace and
extravagant),—that of the Pirate himself,—and that of Halcro
the poet, have no connexion with the localities of Shetland, or
the peculiarities of an insular life. Mr. Yellowlees, though he
gives occasion to some strong contrasts, is in the same situation.
The great blemish, however, of the work, is the inconsistency
in Cleveland's character, or rather the way in which he disap¬
points us, by turning out so much better than we had expected
—and yet substantially so ill. So great, indeed, is this disap¬
pointment, and so strong the grounds of it, that we cannot help
suspecting that the author himself must have altered his design
in the course of the work; and, finding himself at a loss to
make either a demon or a hero of the personage whom he had
introduced with a view to one or other of these characters,
betook himself to the expedient of leaving him in that neutral or
mixed state, which, after all, suits the least with his conduct
and situation, or with the effects which he is supposed to produce.
All that we see of him is a daring, underbred, forward, heartless
fellow—very unlikely, we should suppose, to captivate the af¬
fections of the high-minded, romantic Minna, or even to supplant
an old friend in the favour of the honest Udaller. The charm
of the book is the picture of his family. Nothing can be more
beautiful than the description of the two sisters, and the gentle
and innocent affection that continues to unite them, even after
love has come to divide their interests and wishes. The visit
paid them by Norna, and the tale she tells them at midnight,
336
THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL.
leads to a fine display of the perfect purity of their young
hearts, and the native gentleness and dignity of their charac¬
ter. There is, perhaps, still more genius in the development
and full exhibition of their father's character, who is first
introduced to us as little else than a jovial, thoughtless, hospi¬
table housekeeper, but gradually discloses the most captivating
traits, not only of kindness and courage, but of substantial
generosity and delicacy of feeling, without ever departing, for
an instant, from the frank homeliness of his habitual demeanour.
Norna is a new incarnation of Meg Merrilies, and palpably the
same in the spirit. Less degraded in her habits and associates,
and less pathetic in her denunciations, she reconciles fewer
contradictions, and is, on the whole, inferior, perhaps, to her
prototype; but is far above the rank of a mere imitated or bor¬
rowed character. The Udaller's visit to her dwelling on the
Fitful-head is admirably managed, and highly characteristic of
both parties. Of the humorous characters, Yellowlees is the
best. Few things, indeed, are better than the description of his
equestrian progression to the feast of the Udaller. Claud Halcro
is too fantastical, and peculiarly out of place, we should think,
in such a region. A man, who talks in quotations from common
plays, and proses eternally about glorious John Dryden, luckily
is not often to be met any where, but least of all in the Orkney
Islands. Bunce is liable to the same objection,—though there
are parts of his character, as well as that of Fletcher and the
rest of the crew, given with infinite spirit and effect. The
denouement of the story is strained and improbable, and the
conclusion rather unsatisfactory. But the work, on the whole,
opens up a new world to our curiosity, and affords another
proof of the extraordinary pliability, as well as vigour, of the
author's genius.
THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL.
This work, though dealing abundantly in invention, is, in
substance, like Old Mortality and Kenilworth, of an historical
character, and may be correctly represented as an attempt to
describe and illustrate, by examples, the manners of the court,
and, generally speaking, of the age of James I. of England. And
this, on the whole, is the most favourable aspect under which
CRITICAL REMARKS.
337
it can be considered; for, while it certainly presents us with a
very brilliant, and, we believe, a very faithful sketch of the
manners and habits of the time, we cannot say that it either
embodies them in a very interesting story, or supplies us with
any rich variety of particular characters. Except King James
himself, and Richie Moniplies, there is but little individuality
in the personages represented. We should perhaps add Master
George Heriot; except that he is too staid and prudent a per¬
son to engage very much of our interest. The best things in
the book are the pictures or characters of the two former.
A most admirable scene is that between them, respecting the
crown jewels, of which the latter had got possession and which
he had privately announced to the King that he would restore,
if indulged with a private interview. * Though the scenes in
Alsatia are by no means of an engaging character, they are drawn
with great force. That of the murder is the most striking.
Lord Dalgarno is very lively and witty, and represents all the
gallantry and profligacy of the time. The worthy Earl, his
father* figures as the type of the ruder and more uncorrupted
age that preceded. We are amused with Jin Yin, the smart
apprentice, the mixed childishness and heroism of Margaret
Ramsay, the native loftiness and austere candour of Martha
Trapbois, the humour of Dame Suddieehops, and other seducing
persons and things.
This novel has neither so much genius nor so much interest
as Kenilworth or Ivanhoe, or the earlier historical novels of
the same author—and yet there be readers who will in all
likelihood prefer it to those books,—and that for the very reasons
which induce us to place it beneath them. These reasons are,
1 st, that the scene is all in London—and that the piece is con¬
sequently deprived of the interest and variety derived from the
beautiful descriptions of natural scenery, and the still more
beautiful combination of its features and expression, with the
feelings of the living agents, which abound in those other works.
2d, That the characters are more entirely borrowed from the
written memorials of the age to which they refer, and less from
that eternal and universal nature which is of all ages, than in
any of his former works. The plays of that great dramatic era,
* The Fortunes of Nigel, p. 64.
22
THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL.
and the letters and memoirs which have been preserved in such
abundance, have made all diligent readers familiar with the
peculiarities by which it was marked. But unluckily the taste of
these writers was quaint and fantastical; and, though their
representations necessarily give us a true enough picture of the
fashions and follies of the time, it is obviously a distorted and
exaggerated picture—and their characters plainly both speak
and act as no living men ever did conduct or express themselves.
Now, his style of caricature is too palpably copied in the work
before us,—and, though somewhat softened and relaxed by the
good sense of the author, is still so prevalent, that most of his
characters strike us rather as whimsical humourists or affected
maskers, than as faithful copies of the society of any historical
period; and though they may afford great delight to such slender
wits as think the commentators on Shakspeare the greatest
men in the world, and here find their little archaeological persons
made something less inconceivable than usual, they cannot fail
to offend and disappoint all those who hold that nature alone
must be the source of all natural interest. 3dly, We object to
this work, as compared with those to which we have alluded,
that the interest is more that of situation, and less of character
or action, than in any of the former. The hero is not so much
ah actor or a sufferer in most of the events represented, as a
spectator. With comparatively little to do in the business of
the scene, he is merely placed in the front of it, to look on with
the reader as it passes. He has an ordinary and slow-moving
suit at court—and, a-propos of this—all the humours and
oddities of the sovereign are exhibited in rich and splendid detail.
He is obliged to take refuge for a day in Whitefriars—and alt
the horrors and atrocities of the Sanctuary are spread out
before us through the greater part of a volume. Two or three
murders are committed, in which he has no interest, and no
other part than that of being accidentally present. His own
scanty part, in short, is performed in the vicinity of a number
of other separate transactions; and this mere juxtaposition is
made an apology for stringing them all up together into one
historical romance. We should not care very much if this only
destroyed the unity of the piece—but it sensibly weakens its
interest— and reduces it from the rank of a comprehensive and
engaging narrative, in which every event gives and receives
CRITICAL REMARKS.
339
importance from its connexion with the rest, to that of a mere
collection of sketches relating to the same period and state of
society.
The character of the hero, we also think, is more than usually
a failure. He is not only a reasonable and discrete person, for
whose prosperity we need feel no great apprehension, but he
is gratuitously debased by certain infirmities of a mean and
somewhat sordid description, which suit remarkably ill with the
heroic character. His prudent deportment at the gaming table,
and his repeated borrowings of money, have been already hinted
at; and we may add, that when interrogated by He riot about
the disguised damsel who is found with him in the Tower, he
makes up a false story for the occasion, with a cool promptitude
of invention, which reminds us more of Joseph Surface and
his French milliner, than of the high-minded son of a stern
puritanical Baron of Scotland.
These are the chief faults of the work, and they are not slight
ones. Its merits do not require to be specified. They embrace
all to which we have not specially objected. The general bril¬
liancy and force of the colouring, the ease and spirit of the
design, and the strong touches of character, are all such as we
have long admired in the best works of the author. Besides the
King and Richie Moniplies, at whose merits we have already
hinted, it would be unjust to pass over the prodigious strength
of writing that distinguishes the part of Mrs. Martha Trapbois,
and the inimitable scenes, though of a coarse and revolting
complexion, with Duke Hildebrod and the miser of Alsatia. The
Templar Lowestoffe, and Jin Yin, the aspiring apprentice, are
excellent sketches of their kind. So are John Christie and his
frail dame. Lord Dalgarno is more questionable. There are
passages of infinite spirit and ability in this part; but he turns
out too atrocious. Sir Mungo Malagrowther wearies us, and so
does the horologist Ramsay—because they are both exaggerated
and unnatural characters. We scarcely see enough of Margaret
Ramsay to forgive her all her irregularities and her high fortune.
But a great deal certainly of what we do see is charmingly
executed. Dame Ursula is something between the vulgar gos¬
siping of Mrs. Quickly in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and the
atrocities of Mr. Turner and Lady Suffolk; and it is rather a
contamination of Margaret's purity to have used such counsel.
22*
340
QUENTIN DURWARD.
David Ramsay. " In the year 1634, Davy Ramsay, his MdA
jesty's clockmaker, made an attempt to discover a precious
deposit supposed to be concealed in the cloister of Westminster
Abbey, but a violent storm of wind put a stop to his operation."
—Lilly s Life, p. 47. This Ramsay, according to Osborne,
in his "Traditional Memorials," used to deliver money and
watches, to be recompensed, with profit, when Ring James
should sit on the King's chair at Rome, so near did he apprehend
(by astrology, doubtless) the downfall of the papal power. His
son wrote several books on astrological subjects, of which his
" Astrologia Restaurata " is very entertaining. In the Preface,
he says that his father was of an ancient Scottish family, viz. of
Eighterhouse (Auchterhouse), " which had flourished in great
glory for 1500 years, till these latter days," and derives the clan
from Egypt (it is wonderful that the idea of gypsies did not startle
him) where the word Ramsay signifies joy and delight. Rut he
is extremely indignant that the world should call his father " no
better than a watchmaker," asserting that he was, in fact, page
of the bedchamber, groom of the privy-chamber, and keeper of
all his Majesty's clocks and watches. "Now, how this," quoth
he to the reader, " should prove him a watchmaker, and no
other, more than the late Earles of Pembroke ordinary cham¬
berlains, because they bore this office in the King's house, do
thou judge."—
QUENTIN DURWARD.
The Memoirs of Philip de Comines have long been esteemed
as furnishing an impartial, authentic, and lively delineation of the
remarkable era of Louis XI. of France. These have acquired
more than usual interest, as the ground-work of one of the most
vigorous and beautiful of those master productions, by which the
spirit of past ages is brought before us in the most natural and
vivid colours; and the bare historical outline of great events and
remarkable personages is worked up into a portraiture full of life
and beauty. Quentin Durward is, in fine, a picture of foreign
manners towards the end of the fifteenth century. And well it
LOUIS XI.
341
s contrasted with the introductory outline, which commences
this volume, of those of the beginning of the nineteenth, in
which the interesting portrait of a restored emigrant of the old
court is one of the happiest probably ever drawn even by the
master of Waverley.
It is exceedingly curious and instructive to trace such a writer
to the sources from which he has derived his incidents and cha¬
racters ; to mark where he has followed, or where he has departed
from, the authentic relations or established traditions of the pe¬
riods of which he treats ; and to discover how readily a creative
genius avails itself of the most trifling anecdote, or the slightest
description, to give a spirit and truth to his fictions which pure in¬
vention can never attain.
We recommend to our readers to compare the character our
author has given of Louis XL, with the annexed description
which Comines has left us of the same ambitious and crafty
monarch:
" Of all the princes that I ever had the honour to know, the wisest and most
dexterous to extricate himself out of any danger or difficulties in time of adver¬
sity, was (says Comines) our master King Louis XI. He was the humblest in
his conversation and habit, and the most painful and indefatigable to win over
any man to his side, that he thought capable of doing him either much mischief
or good : though he was often refused, he would never give over a man whom
he once undertook, but still pressed and continued his insinuations, promising
him largely, and presenting him with such sums and pensions as he knew would
satisfy his ambition : and for such as he had discarded in the time of peace and
prosperity, he paid dear (when he had occasion for them) to recover them again;
but when he had once reconciled them, he retained no pique to them for what
had passed, but employed them freely for the future. He was naturally kind and
indulgent to persons of indifferent condition, and morose to such as he thought
had no need of him. Never prince was so conversable, nor so inquisitive as he;
for his desire was to know every body he could; and indeed, he knew all persons
of any authority or worth in England, Spain, Portugal, and Italy, the territories
of the Dukes of Burgundy and Bretagne, and in his own country; and by those
qualities he preserved the crown upon his head, which was in much danger by
the enemies he had created to himself through his inadvertency upon his acces¬
sion to the throne. But, above all, his great bounty and liberality did him
greatest service; and yet, as he behaved himself wisely in time of distress, so
when he thought himself a little out of danger, though it were but by a truce, he
would disoblige the servants and officers of his court by mean and trifling ways,
which were little to his advantage : and as for peace, he could hardly bear the
thoughts of it. He spoke lightly of most people, and rather before their faces
than behind their backs, unless he (was afraid of them, and of that sort there
* Introduction to Quentin Durward.
34-2
QUENTIN DURWARD.
were a great many, tor he was naturally timorous. When he had done himself any
prejudice by his talk, or was apprehensive he should do, so to make men amends
whom he had injured, he would say to the persons whom he had disobliged, I
am sensible my tongue has done me a great deal of mischief, but, on the other
hand, it has sometimes done me good; however, it is but reason I should make
some reparation for the injuryand he never used those kind of apologies to
any person, but he did something for the person to whom he made it, and it was
always considerable. It is certainly a great blessing for any prince to have ex¬
perienced adversity as well as prosperity, good as well as evil, and especially il
the good outweighs the evil, as it did in in our master. I am of opinion that the
troubles he was involved in, in his youth, when he had fled from his father, and
resided six years together in the Duke of Burgundy's court, were of great ser¬
vice to him ; for there he learned to be complacent to such as he had occasion to
use, which was no little improvement."
Comines, who knew Charles the Bold intimately, thus speaks
of him also, after describing his death, in 1476, through the
treachery of the Count of Campo-basso:
" I have known him a powerful and honourable prince, in as great esteem
and as much courted by his neighbours (when his affairs were in a prosperous
condition) as any prince in Europe, and perhaps more; and I cannot conceive
what should provoke God Almighty's displeasure so highly against him, unless
it was his self-love and arrogance, in appropriating all the success of his
enterprises and all the renown he ever acquired, to his own wisdom and con¬
duct, without attributing any thing to God; yfet, to speak truth, he was master
of several good qualities. No prince ever had a greater ambition to entertain
young noblemen than he, nor was more careful of their education; his presents
and bounties 'were never profuse and extravagant, because he gave to many,
and had a mind that every body should taste of it. No prince was ever more
easy of access to his servants and subjects. Whilst I was in his service he was
never cruel, but a little before his death he took up that humour, which
was an infallible sign of the shortness of his life. He was very splendid and
curious in his dress and in every thing else, and indeed a little too much. He
paid great honours to all ambassadors and foreigners, and entertained them
nobly. His ambitious desire of fame was insatiable, and it was that which in¬
duced him to be eternally in wars, more than any other motive. He ambi¬
tiously desired to imitate the old kings and heroes of antiquity, whose actions
still shine in history and are so much talked of in the world, and his courage
was equal to any prince's of his time."
The contentions of passion in the mind of the Duke of Bur¬
gundy, after the siezure of Louis,* are painted with a glowing hand
by the novelist; and the parallel passages in Comines would abun¬
dantly recompense the attention of the reader, did our limits per¬
mit us to embrace them.
Quentin Dut ward. chap, xxvni.
HERMIT OF PLESSIS.
343
The meeting of the king and the Duke of Burgundy, in the
tower of Peronne, is also powerful delineated.
It is one very amiable, though very dangerous, character¬
istic of the "Author of Waverley," that throughout his works
we perceive a wish, generally speaking, to veil and extenuate the
weaknesses and faults of those historical personages whom he
has occasion to mention.
The description of the holy man,* or hermit of Plessis, was
probably suggested by the following curious passages in Co
mines, in which he details the King's fits of devotion, when the
fear of death, in his last illness, had begun to seize upon him :
" Among men renowned for devotion and sanctity of life, he sent into
Lalabra for one Frari Robert, whom, for the holiness and purity of conversa ¬
tion, the King called the holy man; and in honour to him our present King
erected a monastery at Plessis-du-Place, in compensation for the chapel near
Plessis at the end of the bridge. This hermit, at the age of twelve years,
was put into a hole in a rock, where he lived three, and, forty years and up¬
wards, till the king sent for him by the steward of his household, in the com¬
pany of the Prince of Tarento, the King of Naples' son. But this hermit
would not stir without leave from his Holiness and from his King, which was
great discretion in a man so inexperienced in the affairs of the world as he
was. He built two churches in the place where he lived; he never ate flesh,
fish, eggs, milk, or any thing that was fat, since he undertook that austerity
of life : and truly I never saw any man living so holy, nor out of whose mouth
the Holy Ghost did so manifestly speak; for he was illiterate and no scholar,
and only had his Italian tongue, with which he made himself so much admired.
This hermit passed through Naples, where he was respected, and visited
(with as much pomp and ceremony as if he had been the Pope's Legate) both
by the King of Naples and his children, with whom he conversed as if he had
been all the days of his life a courtier. From thence he went to Rome, where
he was visited by the cardinals, had audiences three times of the Pope, and was
every time alone with him three or four hours; sitting always in a rich chair,
placed on purpose for him (which was great honour for a person in his private
capacity) and answering so discreetly to every thing that was asked him, and
every body was extremely astonished at it, and his Holiness granted him leave
to erect a new order, called the Hermits of St. Francis. From Rome he came
to our King, who paid him the same adoration as he would have done to the
Pope himself, falling down upon his knees before him, and begging him to
prolong his life; he replied as a prudent man ought. I have heard him often
in discourse with the king that now is, in the presence of all the nobility of the
kingdom; and that not above two months ago, and it seemed to me, whatever
he said or remonstrated was done by inspiration; or else it was impossible for
him to have spoken of some things that he discoursed of. He is still living,
and may grow either better or worse, and therefore I will say nothing. There
were some of the courtiers that made a jest of the king's sending for the hermit ,
* Quentin Durward, p. 19
3-14
QUENT1N DURWARD.
and called him the holy man, by way of banter; but they knew not the
thoughts of that wise king, and had not seen what it was that induced hiu*
to do it."
Claude de Seyssel, the historian of Louis XL, furnishes a re-1-
niarkable illustration of the superstition of Louis XI. :
" His devotion was more superstitious than religious. — * * * *. His hat was
always filled with images, for the most part of lead or pewter, which, whenever
any good or evil news arrived, or when the fantasy took him, he would kiss
them, throwing himself upon his knees before them, sometimes so suddenly
that he appeared deranged in his mind rather than a wise man."
This sort of superstition, which was the prevalent weakness
of his mind, led Louis XI. to place implicit belief in all the pre
tensions of astrology. In this persuasion he always retained
about him some professor of that art. Our author has availed
himself of this trait to introduce the character of Galeotti Marti,*
where he has very properly represented him as something supe¬
rior to the lying conjurors of the days of ignorance ; he has also
made him figure as an agent at the Court of Plessis, which,
however, is incorrect, as he was never fortunate enough to
enter the service of Louis XI., having broken his neck at their
iirst interview.-j- The following account, extracted from the
" Addition a fHistoire de Louis XL," by M. Xaudet, is extremely
curious :
"As to Galeotus Martius, who was a native of the city of Narno, in Italy,
he was a man profoundly skilled in letters, a great critic, a philosopher, a
physician, an astrologer, a humourist, and an orator ; as may be seen by his
books de Doctrina, de Homine,r de Dictis Matt Men Regis, de Censura, Operant
Philelphi, and de Vulgo incognitis: of which, although I have seen only the
three first in print, it must nevertheless be supposed that the fourth is so
likewise, seeing that Marsile and some other authors and librarians often cite
it; and the last filled with very learned and curious maxims, of which some
samples may be seen in Vadianus and la Popeliuiere, is now preserved in the
library of the King, where the learned and reverend father Mersene has
assured me he has many times consulted it. Besides this, he was also very
adroit in the management of all sorts of arms; and, though he was of a
somewhat large, heavy, and bulky stature, he nevertheless overcame, in a
* See Quentin Durward, p. -287.
f The interview between the astrologer Galeotti, and the incensed king is
admirably managed; and it is again to the fruitful Confines we must look for the
origin of this incident.
CRITICAL REMARKS.
345
solemn challenge and regular combat, the most able wrestler of his time, as
Janus Panonius, bishop of five churches, has remarked in an Epigram.
" Wherefore Louis XI., having heard of this great prodigy of learning, "grew
somewhat jealous of Mathias Corvinus, who had chosen him for his master,
and the companion of his studies; and moved by an honourable emulation
made proposals to him of so much advantage, that he determined at length on
quitting Hungary, to the end that he might better and more fully enjoy the
honour and the reputation which he had acquired by his merits, and breathe
in all comfort the air of France, under the favour and liberality of so powerful
a king. But, a strange misfortune on his arrival at Lyons, where the King,
was, in the year 1476, he was so surprised by the suddenness of the meeting,
that in his hurry to alight, in order to salute him, he fell from his horse with
great violence, that he broke his neck and died on the spot. The learned
Joannes Valerianus, from whom we have this story, relates it in his book De
Litterariorum Infelicitate. In which nevertheless he does not agree with
Paul Jove and Scardeon, who describe his death as having come to pass in
a town near unto Padua, where he was suffocated by his obesity and cor¬
pulency. "
The twenty-third chapter is one of the most powerful in the
novel. As a portraiture of horror it is perhaps unequalled. 1
describes the sanguinary fury of William de la Marck, the cou¬
rageous piety of the Bishop of Liege, and his brutal murder by
a ferocious ruffian. It is necessary to guard the reader of his¬
tory against giving implicit credence to this magnificent de¬
scription. The facts of the insurrection at Liege, previous to
the imprisonment of Louis XI. at Peronne, are distinctly de¬
scribed by Comines, and from him we learn that William de
la Marck was not then an actor in these scenes; that the
Liegois revolted under William de Vilde, and that the Bishop
was not killed. The death of the Bishop of Liege did actually
take place by the hands of William de la Marck, but this event
occurred some years after the era of the novel. The catas¬
trophe is thus briefly described by Comines:
" The bishop took into his councils Monsieur William de la Marck, a line
gentleman and a brave soldier, but of a cruel and malicious temper, and one
who favoured the citizens of Liege, and had always been an enemy to the
Duke of Burgundy's family, and to the bishop himself. The Princess of
Burgundy gave this De la Marck fifteen thousand florins, partly on the bi¬
shop's account and partly to oblige him to espouse her interest; but it was
not long before he openly declared both against her and his master the bishop,
and by the assistance of our king would have made his own son bishop of
Liege; after which he fought with, defeated and with his own hands slew
the bishop in battle, and ordered his body to be thrown into the river, where
it was found three days after."
QUE N TIN DURWARD.
It should be mentioned, that Louis of Bourbon did not lose his
life until some time * after the death of the Bold Duke of Bur¬
gundy ; nor was William de la Marck personally concerned in the
revolt of the Liegeois, which preceded the confinement of Louis
XL at Peronne, and was led by " a knight called Monsieur Wil¬
liam de la Yille, alias, by the French, le Sauvage." Comines,
p. 102. In that disturbance, however, one of the Bishop's most
confidential domestics was brutally butchered before the face o(
his master, while the wretches who committed the outrage flung
at each other the mangled limbs of their victim. The Bishop
was led as a prisoner into the city, from which he escaped upon
the approach of the King and the Duke of Burgundy. His death
is thus mentioned in Bulteel's Mezeray, fol. London, 1688, p.
504;" 1482, William de la Mark, called the wild boar of Ardenne,
incited and assisted by the King, massacred, most inhumanly,
Lewis de Bourbon, Bishop of Liege, either in an ambuscade, or
after he had defeated him in battle,and soon after himself,
being taken by the Lord de Horne, brother to the Bishop, suc¬
cessor to Lewis, had his head cut off at Maestrich." From Co-
mines it appears that de la Marck, who is styled " a brave person,
and a valiant gentleman, but cruel and malicious," had an idea
of placing his own son in the bishopric, with the assistance of
the King of France.
The anachronism caused by thus antedating the death of the
Bishop may not be without excuse, as deepening the interest of
a fictitious narrative. A more strange oversight is committed
in the rifaccimento of the King's prayer to the lady of Clery,
as given by Brantome, where the author of Quentin Durward
has retained the passage respecting the death of Charles the due
de Guienne, who was personally interested in the treaty of Pe¬
ronne, and was not poisoned until three or four years after, viz.
in 1471. Mezeray thus tells the story which is not a little ro¬
mantic.
* From the narrative of Comines, it would appear that he perished in the
year following the death of the duke, who lost his life before Nancy, 6th Jan
1457. Mezeray does not mention it until the year 1482.
f Comines, page 280, tells us, that he slew the bishop with his own hands in
battle, and caused his body to be thrown into the river, where it was found three
days afterwards
CRITICAL REMARKS.
347
" He loved a lady, daughter of the Lord Monserau, and widow of Lewis d'Am-
boise, and had for confessor a certain Benedictine monk, abbot of St. John
d'Angely, named John Favre Versois. This wicked monk poisoned a very fair
peach, and gave it to that lady, who, at a collation, put it to steep in wine, pre¬
sented one-half of it to the Prince, and eat the other herself. She, being tender,
died in a short time; the Prince, more robust, sustained for some while the
assaults of the venom, but however could not conquer it, and in the end yielded
his life to it.
" Such as adjust all the phenomena of the Heavens to the accidents here
below, might have applied it to this same comet of extraordinary magnitude, which
was visible fourscore days together from the month of December. Its head was
in the sign of the Balance, and it had a long tail, turning a little towards the
north."—P. 494. Bulteel.
The duke died on the 12th of May. The king was very an¬
xious to get the perpetrator of the crime out of the hands oi
the Duke of Burgundy, who had been thrown into inexpres¬
sible rage on hearing the catastrophe of Charles. " The monk
was found dead in prison, the devil, as was said, having broken
his neck the night before that day wherein they were to pro¬
nounce his sentence. This was what the King desired, that so
the proof of the crime might perish with the poysoner." P. 495.
In Dr. Dibdin's " Tour," vol. iii. p. 591, there is a very beau¬
tiful miniature figure of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy,
at prayers : it is taken from a manuscript breviary on vellum, of
the fifteenth century, executed for his use. A more hard-fea¬
tured and truculent-looking visage is scarcely to be imagined
than that prefixed to one of the four portraits intended to adorn
the frontispiece of the edition of the " Memoires de Comines."
At the close of his own life, Louis placed all hope in his phy¬
sician, James Coctier, who received 10,000 crowns by the
month for the last five months. (Mezeray, p. 505).
318
PEVER1L OF THE PEAK.
PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.
The following outline of Peveril's Castle of the Peak, which
might have made a conspicuous figure in the novel of that
name, may still relieve the disappointment of many of our anti¬
quarian readers.
On the summit of a steep and rocky eminence, at the base of
which is that vast subterranean recess, the Peak Cavern, stand
the remains of the ancient castle of the Peak, from which the
adjacent village of Castleton derives its name. The elevated
situation of the fortress, and the almost perpendicular chasms
that partially insulate the rock which it occupies, must have
rendered it nearly impregnable, prior to the use of artillery in
sieges. On the east and south sides its site is bounded by a
narrow ravine called the cave ; and on the west it is skirted by
the precipice which frowns over the cavern. The most acces¬
sible part is towards the north. Yet even here the path has
been carried in a winding, or rather in a zig-zag direction, in
order to obviate the steepness of the ascent. The Castle-yard,
or Ballium, included nearly the whole summit of the eminence.
The enclosing wall, though for the most part in ruins, measures
twenty feet in height in a few places on the outside. On the
north side were two small towers, now destroyed. The entrance
was at the north-east angle, where part of an arched way still
remains. Near the opposite angle in the keep, the walls of
which, on the south and west sides, are the most entire, and at
the north-west corner, they are above fifty feet high ; the north
and east sides are much shattered. On the outside the keep
forms a square of thirty-eight feet, but its interior dimensions
are unequal; the extent from north to south being rather more
than twenty-one feet, but from east to west only nineteen. The
walls consist of broken masses of limestone, embedded in mortar
of such tenacity, that it imparts to the whole the solidity of an
entire rock. Some of the herring-bone masonry may be ob¬
served on the inner side. The interior is now a complete va¬
cuity ; but it anciently consisted of two chambers, one 011 the
ground floor and one above, over which the roof was raised
itli a g able end to the north and south, but not equal in height
PEVERIL'S CASTLE OF THE PEAK.
34!)
to the outer walls. The lower chamber was about fourteen feet
high, and the upper one about sixteen : the only entrance to the
former appears to have been through a doorway on the south-
side of the latter, down a flight of steps now wholly destroyed,
but said to have existed within memory. At the south-east
angle are the ruins of a narrow winding staircase communi¬
cating with the roof. In the east wall of the upper apartment
is a kind of recess or niche, of a rectangular figure, having a sin¬
gular canopy.
That eminent antiquary Mr. King, who has minutely described
this curious edifice in the " Sequel to his Observations on An¬
cient Castles," in the sixth volume of the "Archaeologia," and also
in the third volume of his elaborate " Monumenta antiqua," has
endeavoured to prove that this castle was erected by the Pagan
Saxons, and was the dwelling of some great chieftain of that
nation ; he suspects, rather fancifully perhaps, that the niche
above-mentioned, like that in Conesborough Castle in York¬
shire, might have been designed for the reception of an idol.
By other antiquaries the Peak's Castle is considered to be a
Norman structure, built by William Peveril, natural son of the
Conqueror; to whom, indeed, the traditions of the neighbour¬
hood ascribe its erection. This opinion is in some degree
countenanced by the ancient appellation of the castle, " Peve-
rel's place in the Peke." Whichever of these suppositions be
the true one, it is certain that this fortress was possessed by
Peveril, at the period of the doomsday survey, together with
the Peak forest, and numerous manors.
The following curious and romantic account of a tournament
held here, is related by Mr. Pelkington, in his " View of Derby¬
shire":—"William, a valiant knight, and sister's son to Pain
Peveril, Lord of Whittington, in the county of Salop, had two
daughters, one of whom, called Mallet, was no less distinguished
by a martial spirit than her father. This appeared from the de¬
claration which she made respecting the choice of a husband.
She firmly resolved to marry none but a knight of great prow¬
ess ; and her father, to confirm her purpose, and to procure
and encourage a number of suitors, invited all noble young men,
who were inclined to enter the lists, to meet at Peveril's place
in the Peke, and there decide their pretensions by the use of
arms ; declaring at the same time, that whoever vanquished his
350
PEVERIL OF TIIE PEAK,
competitors should receive his daughter, with the castle of Whit-
tington, as a reward of his skill and valour. Guarine de Meez,
a branch of the house of Lorraine, and an ancestor of the Lord
Fitzwarrine, hearing this report, repaired to the place above-
mentioned. He had a silver shield with a peacock for his crest,
and there engaged with a son of a king of Scotland, and also
with a baron of Bourgogne, and, vanquishing them both, obtained
the prize for which he fought.
Jeffrey Hudson, being one of the important personages in
Peveril of the Peak,* a brief notice of him here may not be
uninteresting. He was born at Oakham, in Rutlandshire, in
1619, and at about the age of seven or eight, being then but
18 inches high, was retained in the service of the Duke of
Buckingham, who resided at Burleigh on the Hill. Soon after
the marriage of Charles I., the King and Queen being enter¬
tained at Burleigh, little Hudson was served up to table in a cold
pie, and presented by the Duchess to the Queen, who kept him
as her dwarf. From the age of seven to thirty he grew no
taller ; but after thirty he shot up to three feet, nine inches, and
there fixed. Jeffrey became a considerable source of entertain¬
ment at court. Sir W. Davenant wrote a poem called ' Jef-
freilos,' or a battle between him and a turkey cock; and in 1683
was published a very small book, called the " New Years Gift,"
presented at court from the Lady Percival, to the Lord Minimus
(commonly called little Jeffrey), her Majesty's servant, &c.,
written by Micropholus, with a little print of Jeffrey prefixed.
Before this period Jeffrey was employed on a negociation of
great importance : he was sent to France to fetch a midwife for
the Queen, and on his return with this gentlewoman and her
Majesty's dancing-master, and many rich presents to the Queen,
from her mother, Mary de Medicis, he was taken by the Dun-
kirkers. Jeffrey thus made of consequence, grew to think him¬
self really so. He had borne with little temper the teazing of
the courtiers and domestics, and had many squabbles with the
King's gigantic porter. At last, being provoked by Mr. Crofts,
a young gentleman of family, a challenge ensued ; and the ap¬
pointment being on a level, Jeffrey with the first fire shot his
* Peveril of the Peak, y>. 411.
JEFFREY HUDSON.
351
antagonist dead. This happened in France, whither he had
attended his mistress in the troubles, lie was again taken
prisoner by a Turkish rover, and sold into Barbary. He pro¬
bably did not remain long in slavery; for at the beginning of
the civil war, he was made a captain in the royal army ; and in
1644, attended the Queen of France, where he remained till the
restoration. At last, upon suspicion of his being privy to the
Popish plot, he was taken up in 1682, and confined in the
gate-house, Westminster, where he ended his life in the 63d
year of his age.
The following passage in a work not much known, " Me -
moires d'un Homme qui se repose," bears a striking similarity
to the history and description of Sir Geoffrey Hudson, in Peveril
of the Peak:—" We stopped two or three days at Prague, to
see some friends we had known at Vienna. We dined one day
at the house of a lady, whose name has escaped me, where f
remarked a custom which is pretty general in the principal
houses in Bohemia and Saxony, that of having a dwarf, as one
has a favourite dog or cat: some are very well made and well
proportioned. The late king Stanislaus had a very small one,
which amused him exceedingly, walking to and fro on the ta¬
ble conversing with the guests. The king had him served up
once in a large pie, out of which he issued, to the great asto¬
nishment of some foreign princes who were dining with the
king, and had not yet seen the dwarf. This one has been dead
some years, but I saw his face in wax, with his clothes : he
was about the height of a child of four years of age. The one
I saw at Prague dined with the company, and was a little
boaster that babbled and talked the whole time of dinner. He
was waited on at table by another dwarf, hideously ugly, who
amused me greatly by the 'sidelong looks of hate' he cast on
his brother dwarf while he served him; and indeed the little
man at table had no greater advantage over the one that
waited on him than being better made." The date of this tour
is 1770.
35 2
redg a u n t let.
ST. RONAN'S WELL.
Meg Dods, the landlady of the village inn, had a prototype in
Nelly Bathgate, who kept the metropolitan grocery shop of inner-
teithen, forming a kind of cynosure to a district extending nearly
from Selkirk to Peebles. Before St. Ronan's W ell had drawn so
many fashionables around that retired spot, Nelly flourished
in her little shop, undisturbed by opposition, like the moon just
before the creation of the stars. Rivals innumerable have now
sprung up around honest Nelly, and her ancient and respectable,
but unpretending sign-board, simply importing, " N. Bathgate,
Grocer," quails under the glowing and gilt-lettered rubrics of
" , from Edinburgh," etc., etc., who specify that they
import heir own teas and wines, and deal both en gros et en
detail.
REDG Yl NTLET.
This Novel is an inferior kind of Waverley. It has little
of the romantic, and less of the historical merit. The heir
of the Stuarts is again introduced, but in the winter of his
fortune, and in the vale of years. The uncle of the hero is ano¬
ther Fergus M'lvor—his sister, a feeble Flora—Peter Peebles
is as vigorous a sketch as the Baron of Bradwardine; they are
both descriptive of intellectual aberrations, in different ways—
Galium Beg is the elder brother of Little Benjie. The inferior
characters have their counterparts in that earlier production;
perhaps Joshua Geddes, the Quaker, is sui generis; but for
Wandering Willie, and the senior Fairford—are they not of the
same class as Davy Gellatly and the Baillie M'Wheeble ?—In the
progress of the plot, and the grouping of the characters, there
are also resemblances and coincidences. Both heroes are ab¬
stracted in a state of insensibility, for the purpose of being
attached, by interested parties, to the cause of the Prince ; and
the scene in the farm-house, where the second hero is attended
upon by one Dorcas or Cicely, is very similar to that in the hut,
where Rose Bradwardine flits about the bed of the first during
CRITICAL REMARKS.
353
his convalescence. Roth are presented to the Chevalier, whose
cause is in each instance unsuccessful; but here the coincidence
is in the historical fact, not in the novelist's fiction.
But we must not be misunderstood. In the plot and con¬
struction of Redgauntlet, however comparatively defective, the
hand of a superior artist is constantly apparent. The epistolary
opening is written in a superior style to the subsequent parts of
the book. The form adopted is decidedly poetical; composed of
episodes, but not of the sort condemned by Aristotle, if we
except those of Wanty Ewart and Peter Peebles, which are
connected slightly,—yet so judiciously, as to deepen the shades
of the litigant's character, whom no term or degree of endurance
and misery, suffered in his own person, can discipline to sym¬
pathy or repentance for the ruin inflicted by himself on the
widow and the fatherless, that might be justified by legal form
and judicial process. In the uniformity of the story, there are
differences—in the identity of the characters, there are distinc¬
tions. It has been usual to speak of the latter as mere dupli¬
cates, one of the other; but this is incorrect. They are of the
same class, not the same individuals. The invention of the
author is still exercised; and the greatest masters of their art
have preferred the representation of the individual to the
species. Shakspeare's characters are not all of different classes
—many are individuals of the same,
The Jacobite intrigues which wind up the plot in this novel
are best understood by a reference to Dr. King's anecdotes of
his own times, pp. 36—190 et seq.
We have already, in our remarks on Guy Mannering, stated
that the lawyers in Edinburgh formerly resided in dense and
insalubrious parts of the city, and in the lanes nearest to the
Parliament House; but that they were the first to remove to
better accommodations at the erection of Brown's Square and
the suburbs. This change is fully pointed out in " Bedgauntiet,"
w here a writer to the signet is represented as removing from
the Luckenbooths to Brown's Square about the time specified—
which personage, disguised under the name of Saunders Fair-
ford, we have no doubt was designed for Sir Walter Scott's own
father, a practitioner of the same rank, who then removed from
the Old Town to a house at the head of the College Wynd, in
*23
354
REDGAUNTLET.
which his distinguished son, the Allan Fairford of the romance,
was born and educated.
It is supposed that the characters, if not the fortunes, of the
Redgauntlet family, are founded upon those of the Griersons of
Lagg. This celebrated, or rather notorious family, is of consi¬
derable antiquity in Galloway,*—a district abounding, to a
greater degree than either Wales or the Highlands of Scotland,
in families of remote origin and honourable descent. Grierson
of Lagg was one of those Border barons, whose fame and wealth
the politic James V. endeavoured to impair, by lodging himself
and his whole retinue upon them during a progress, to the irre¬
parable ruin of their numerous flocks, and the alienation of
(heir broad lands. The Grierson family never recovered the
ground then lost, and has continued, down even to the present
day, to struggle with many difficulties in supporting its dignity.
Sir Robert Grierson, grandfather of the present Laird, made
himself conspicuous in the reigns of the latter Stuarts, by the
high hand which he carried in persecuting the recusant people
of his own districts, and by the oppression which the spirit of
those unhappy times empowered him to exercise upon his
tenants and immediate dependants. He was but a youth when
these unhappy transactions took place, and survived the Resto¬
ration nearly fifty years. His death, which took place in 1736,
was in the remembrance of people lately alive. Many strange
traditionary stories are told about him in Dumfries-shire, and,
in particular, the groundwork of " Wandering Willie's Tale"
is quite well known and accredited among the common people
thereabouts. The popular account of his last illness, death, and
burial, are exceedingly absurd and amusing, and we willingly
give them a place in our motley record.
Sir Robert Grierson died in the town of Dumfries. The house
where this memorable incident took place is still pointed out.
* " The family of Grierson is descended from Gilbert, the second son of Mal¬
colm, Laird of M'Gregor, who died in 1374. His son obtained a charter from
the Douglas family of the lands and barony of Lagg, in Nithsdale, and Little
Dalton, in Annandale; since which his descendants have continued in Niths-
dale, and married into the best families in that part of the country, namely,
those of Lord Maxwell, the Kirkpatricks of Closeburn, the Charterises of Amis-
field, the Fergusons of Craigdarroch, and of the Duke of Queensberry."—
Grose's Antiquities of Scotland.
SIR ROBERT GRIERSON. 355
It is now occupied by a decent baker, and is a house of singular
construction, having a spiral or turnpike stair, like the old
houses of Edinburgh, on which account it is termed the Turn¬
pike-House. It is at the distance of about two hundred yards
from the river Nith; and it is said that when Sir Robert's feet
were in their torment of heat, and caused the old water in
which they were placed to boil, relays of men were placed
between the house and the river, to run with pails of water to
supply his bath; and still, as one pail was handed in, the
preceding one was at the height of boiling-heat, and quite in¬
tolerable to the old Laird's unfortunate extremities. Sir Robert
at length died, and was laid in a hearse to be taken to the
church-yard, which was some miles off. Rut, Oh the myste¬
rious interferences of the evil one! though six stout horses
essayed their utmost might, they could not draw the wicked
persecutor's body along; and there they stood, fixed to the spot,
as though they had been yoked to the stedfast Criffel instead of
an old family hearse! In this emergency, when the funeral
company were beginning to have their own thoughts, Sir Thomas
Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, an old friend of the Laird's, happened
to come up, with two beautiful Spanish horses, and, seeing the
distress they were in, swore an oath, and declared that he
would drive old Lagg, though the devil were in him. So saying,
he yoked his Spanish barbs to the hearse, mounted the box
himself, and drove away at a gallop towards the place of in¬
terment. The horses ran with such swiftness that their master
could not restrain them, and they stopped at the church-yard
gate, not by any management or direction on his part, but by
some miraculous and supernatural agency. The company
came slowly up, in the course of an hour thereafter, and Sir
Robert Grierson was, after all, properly interred, though not
without the loss of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick's beautiful horses,
which died in consequenceof their exertions.
The story of the Redgauntlet horse-shoe seems to have iis
foundation in the following :—
" Major Weir's mother appears to have set the example of
witchcraft to her children, as Jean Weir, while in prison, de¬
clared that ' she was persuaded that her mother was a witch ;
for the secret est thing that either I myself, or any of the family,
k23 "
350
THE BETROTHED.
could do, when once a mark appeared upon her brow, she could
tell it them, though done at a great distance.' Being demanded
what short of a mark it was? she answered, I have some
such like mark myself, when I please, upon my forehead.'
Whereupon she offered to uncover her head, for visible satis¬
faction. The minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding
any discovery, was earnestly requested by some spectators to
allow the freedom: he yielded : she put back her head-dress,
and, seeming to frown, there was an exact horse-shoe, shaped
for nails, in her wrinkles, terrific enough, I assure you, to the
stoutest beholder. "*
THE TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
THE BETROTHED.
In the New Introduction to the first volume of the Tales of the
Crusaders, the author announces that it was by the advice of
his friends, rather than by his own taste, that he adopted this
title;—and in fact, the story of" the Betrothed " is less an incident
belonging to the Crusaders, than one which was occasioned by
the singular cast of mind introduced and spread wide by those
memorable undertakings.
" The confusion among families was not the least concomitant
evil of the extraordinary preponderance of this superstition. It
was no unusual thing for a Crusader, returning from his long
toils of war and pilgrimage, to find his family augmented by
some young off-shoot, of whom the deserted matron could give
no very accurate account, or perhaps to find his marriage-bed
filled, and that, instead of becoming nurse to an old man, his
household dame had preferred being the lady-love of a young
one. Numerous are the stories of this kind told in different parts
of Europe; and the returned knight or baron, according to his
temper, sat down good-naturedly contented with the account
which his lady gave of a doubtful matter, or called in blood and
fire to vindicate his honour, which, after all, had been endangered
chiefly by his forsaking his household gods to seek adventures
in Palestine."
* Sinclair's Satan's Invisible World Discovered.
THE TALISMAN.
357
The period is that of the wars between the Welsh and the
Norman lords of the Marches, and the history of that time will
fully vindicate the probability of the tale.
THE TALISMAN.
The scene of this Romance is Palestine, and the period, that
at which Richard Coeur de Lion was opposed to Saladin.
The title is derived from the principal incident in the Ro¬
mance founded on a story of the same kind, often told in the
west of Scotland; the relic alluded to is still in existence, and
even yet held in veneration.
" Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee and Cartland made a conside¬
rable figure in the reigns of Robert the Rruce and of his son
David. He was one of the chiefs of that band of Scottish chi¬
valry, who accompanied James, the Good Lord Douglas, on
his expedition to the Holy Land, with the heart of King Robert
Rruce. Douglas, impatient to get at the Saracens, entered into
war with those of Spain, and was killed there. Lockhart pro¬
ceeded to the Holy Land with such Scottish knights as had es¬
caped the fate of their leader, and assisted for some time in the
wars against the Saracens."
The following adventure is said by tradition to have befallen
him: —
" He made prisoner in battle an Emir of considerable wealth
and consequence. The aged mother of the captive came to the
Christian camp, to redeem her son from his state of captivity.
Lockhart is said to have fixed the price at which his prisoner
should ransom himself; and the lady, pulling out a large em¬
broidered purse, proceeded to tell down the ransom, like a mo¬
ther who pays little respect to gold in comparison of her son's
liberty. In this operation, a pebble inserted in a coin, some
say of the Lower Empire, fell out of the purse, and the Saracen
matron testified so much haste to recover it, as gave the Scot¬
tish knight a high idea of its value, when compared with gold
or silver. " I will not consent," he said, " to grant your son's
liberty, unless that amulet be added to his ransom." The lady
not only consented to this, but explained to Sir Simon Lockhart
the mode in which the Talisman was to be used, and the uses
tp which it might be put. The water in which it was dipt ope-
WOODSTOCK.
rated as a styptic, as a febrifuge, and possessed several other
properties as a medical talisman.
" Sir Simon Lockhart, after much experience of the wonders
which it wrought, brought it to his own country, and left it to
his heirs, by whom, and by Clydesdale in general, it was, and
is still, distinguished by the name of the Lee-penny, from the
name of his native seat of Lee.
" The most remarkable part of this history, perhaps, was, that
it so especially escaped condemnation when the Church of Scot¬
land chose to impeach many other cures which savoured of the
miraculous, as occasioned by sorcery, and censured the appeal
to them, " excepting only that to the amulet, called the Lee-
penny, to which it had pleased God to annex certain- healing
virtues which the Church did not presume to condemn." It still,
as has been said, exists, and its powers are sometimes resorted
to. Of late, they have been chiefly restricted to the cure of
persons bitten by mad dogs; and as the illness in such cases
frequently arises from imagination, there can be no reason for
doubting that water which has been poured on the Lee-penny
furnishes a congenial cure."
The author confesses, that most of the incidents introduced
in the tale are fictitious, and that reality, where it exists, is only
retained in the characters.
WOODSTOCK.
[The period of the tale is the great civil war, and some
wonderful adventures which happened in Woodstock in the
year 1649, are the principal incidents. These adventures are fully
detailed in the new Introduction.
In order that our readers may be able to compare the author's
description of Prince Charles's escape with the real facts, we
shall here give Mr. Home's account of the interviews of Flora
Macdonald with Charles, and the manner in which she conducted
him to the isle of Skye.
"Mrs. Macdonald first saw Prince Charles in South Uist; she
then resided in the family of Angus Macdonald, of Milton, her
brother. Mrs. Macdonald (then Miss Macdonald) being upon a
visit in Clanronald's family, saw one Colonel O'Neale there, a
FLORA MACDONALD.
359
native of Ireland, a French officer, and constant attendant of
Prince Charles in his distressed state. Miss Macdonald ex¬
pressed an earnest inclination to see the Prince, and said that,
provided she could in any degree prove serviceable in saving
him from his enemies, she would do so with all her heart. Colonel
O'Neale then proposed to Miss Macdonald to take the Prince as
her maid, dressed in women's clothes, and conduct her to Skye,
This undertaking appeared to her so fantastical and dangerous,
that she positively declined it. A Macdonald, a Macleod, and
a Campbell militia were then in quest of the Prince : a guard
was posted at every ferry; every boat was seized; no person
could travel out of the country without a passport; and the
channel between Uist and Skye was covered with ships of War.
Soon after this conversation, the Colonel introduced the Prince
to Miss Macdonald at a farm belonging to her brother. The
Prince was at this time in a state of bad health, of a thin and
weak habit of body, and greatly exhausted with fatigue, and
want of proper accommodation. Under these calamities he
possessed a cheerfulness, magnanimity, and fortitude, remark¬
ably great, and incredible to all but such as saw him there.
Miss Macdonald was so strongly impressed with his critical and
forlorn state, that she instantly consented to conduct him to
Skye.
"Leaving the Prince and his conductor at the farm, Miss
Macdonald, without loss of time, repaired to Clanronald's
family, to provide the necessary requisites for the voyage to
Skye. She procured a passport from Captain Hugh Macdonald,
who commanded the Macdonald militia in South Uist. Captain
Macdonald was father-in-law to Miss Macdonald. The Prince,
denominated Betty Burke in the passport, was recommended
by Captain Macdonald to his wife at Armadale in Skye, as an
excellent spinner of flax, and a faithful servant.
" The night before the Prinee left South Uist, he very nar¬
rowly escaped being taken prisoner. Miss Macdonald having
procured an Open boat with six hands, and every other neces¬
sary, walked along the shore to the distance of a mile from
Clanronald's house, where, according to appointment, the Prince
(dressed in female apparel) and the Colonel met her. As the
Prince, along with Lady Clanronald, Miss Macdonald, and the
Colonel, were in the evening taking supper upon the sea-side, a
WOODSTOCK.
messenger came to Lady Clanronald, informing her that General
Campbell and Captain Ferguson were in her house in quest of
Prince Charles. She instantly repaired home; soon after her
departure, four armed cutters appeared on the coast. They
were so close to the shore, that they could not get away unob¬
served by the soldiers on board, and therefore skulked among
the rocks till the cutters passed them.
" The day following being calm and serene, the Prince, Miss
Macdonald, and the six boatmen set out in the morning for Skye.
As the boat was passing the point of Naternich, in Skye, a party
of the Macleod militia, stationed there, observing it, ran to the
shore with their guns, and levelled them at the boat. The tide
being out, the boat got out of the reach before they could get so
near as to force them to land, or launch out a boat to pursue
them. The boat landed at Mugstole, the family seat of Macdo¬
nald. Miss Macdonald dined with Lady Margaret Macdonald,
and after dinner, she and the Prince (still disguised as her
maid) set out for Kingsburgh, where they arrived in the evening,
and lodged that night. Next day the Prince went to a hill near
the house of Kingsburgh, and put on a Highland dress. Miss
Macdonald accompanied him to Portree, and left him there.
He was then greatly restored to health, had recovered much
strength, and was in good spirits. Miss Macdonald went to Ar¬
madale, to her step-father's house.
" The men who ferried the Prince and Miss Macdonald to
Skye, were, after their return, suspected of what they had done,
and being apprehended, were forced to make a confession.
"Captain Macleod, of Talisker (afterwards Colonel Macleod)
who commanded the militia in Skye, ordered a party to go to
Armadale, and apprehend Miss Macdonald. They took her
prisoner, and gave her up to a body of fuzileers, who delivered
her to General Campbell, at that time on board of Captain Fer¬
guson's ship, which lay between Sconcer and Rasay. She was
on board this ship twenty-two days. General Campbell treated
her with much humanity and politeness, and afterwards con¬
signed her to Admiral Smith on the coast of Lorn in Argyleshire.
This most worthy gentleman treated her, not as a stranger or a
prisoner, but with the affection of a parent."
THE HIGHLAND WIDOW.
361
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
The first volume under this title, contains three Tales "The
Highland Widow," "The Two Drovers," and "The Surgeon's
Daughter, " and three other pieces, which were formerly pub¬
lished in " The Keepsake," viz. " My Aunt Margaret's Mirror, "
" The Tapestried Chamber, " and " The Laird's Jock."
The Introduction to the Chronicles of the Canongate contains
the detail of the circumstances which rendered it impossible for
the author to continue any longer in the possession of his
incognito, and will be read with painful feelings by the admirers
of his powerful talents and noble character. It also contains a
most interesting account of a public Dinner for the Theatrical
Fund, extracted from the Edinburgh Weekly Journal, of the
28th February, 1827.
To the former explanation of the plan of the Chronicles,
presented in Chapter II. by the imaginary Editor, Mr. Croftangry,
the Author now adds the following:—
" The lady, termed in his narrative Mrs. Bethune Baliol, was
designed to shadow out in its leading points the interesting cha¬
racter of a dear friend of mine, Mrs. Murray Keith, whose death
occurring shortly before had saddened a wide circle, much at¬
tached to her, as well for her genuine virtue and amiable qualities
of disposition, as for the extent of information which shepossessed,
and the delightful manner in which she was used to communicate
it. In truth, the author had, on many occasions, been indebted
to her vivid memory for the substratum of his Scottish fictions
—and she accordingly had been, from an early period, at no
loss to fix the Waverley Novels on the right culprit.
" In the sketch ofChrystal Croftangry's own history, the author
has been accused of introducing some not polite allusions to
respectable living individuals: but he may safely, he presumes,
pass over such an insinuation. The first of the narratives which.
Mr. Croftangry proceeds to lay before the public,' The Highland
Widow,' was derived from Mrs. Murray Keith, and is given,
with the exception of a few additional circumstances—the in¬
troduction of which 1 am rather inclined to regret—very much
as the excellent old lady used to tell the story. Neither the High-
THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER.
land cicerone MacTurk, nor the demure washing-woman, were
drawn from imagination: and on re-reading my tale, after the
lapse of a few years, and comparing its effect with my remem¬
brance of my worthy friend's oral narration, which was certainly
extremely affecting, I cannot but suspect myself of having marred
its simplicity by some of those interpolations, which, at the time
when I penned them, no doubt passed with myself for embel¬
lishments.
" The next tale, entitled ' The Two Drovers,' I learned from
another old friend, the late George Constable, Esq. ofWallace-
Craigie, near Dundee, whom I have already introduced to my
reader as the original Antiquary of Monkbarns. He had been
present, I think, at the trial at Carlisle, and seldom mentioned
the venerable judge's charge to the jury, without shedding tears,
which had peculiar pathos, as flowing down features carrying
rather a sarcastic or almost a cynical expression.
THE SURGEON S DAUGHTER.
This Tale forms part of the second series of Chronicles of the
Canongate, published in 1827.—The author, in his new Intro¬
duction, says " that the principal incident on which it turns,
was narrated to him one morning at breakfast by his worthy
friend, Mr. Train, of Castle Douglas, in Galloway, whose kind
assistance he has so often had occasion to acknowledge in the
course of these Prefaces; and that the military friend who is al¬
luded to as having furnished him with some information as to
Eastern matters, was Colonel James Ferguson, of Huntly Burn,
one of the sons of the venerable historian and philosopher of
that name—which name he took the liberty of concealing
under its Gaelic form of MacErries."
Mr. Train was requested by Sir Walter Scott to give him in
writing the story as nearly as possible in the shape in which he
had told it; but the following narrative, which he drew up ac¬
cordingly, did not reach Abbotsford until July, 1832.
" In the old Stock of Fife, there was not perhaps an indi¬
vidual whose exertions were followed by consequences of such
a remarkable nature as those of Davie Duff, popularly called
" The Thane of Fife," who, from a very humble parentage, rose
to fill one of the chairs of the magistracy of his native burgh.
GROUNDWORK OF THE TALE.
363
By industry and economy in early life, he obtained the means of
erecting, solely on his own account, one of those ingenious ma¬
nufactories for which Fifeshire is justly celebrated. From the
day on which the industrious artisan first took his seat at the
Council Board, he attended so much to the interests of the little
privileged community, that civic honours were conferred on him
as rapidly as the Set of the Royalty* could legally admit.
" To have the right of walking to church on holy day, pre¬
ceded by a phalanx of halberdiers, in habiliments fashioned as
in former times, seems, in the eyes of many a guild brother, to
be a very enviable pitch of worldly grandeur. Few persons
were ever more proud of civic honours than the Thane of
Fife, but he knew well how to turn his political influence to the
best account. The council, court, and other business of the
burgh, occupied much of his time, which caused him to intrust
the management of his manufactory to a near relation whose
name was D , a young man of dissolute habits; but the
Thane, seeing at last, that by continuing that extravagant person
in that charge, his affairs would, in all probability, fall into a
state of bankruptcy, applied to the member of Parliament for
that district to obtain a situation for his relation in the civil de¬
partment of the state. The knight, whom it is here unnecessary
to name, knowing how effectually the Thane ruled the little
burgh, applied in the proper quarter, and actually obtained an
appointment for D in the civil service of the East India
Company.
"A respectable surgeon, whose residence was in a neighbour¬
ing village, had a beautiful daughter named Emma, who had
long been courted by D . Immediately before his de¬
parture to India, as a mark of mutual affection, they exchanged
miniatures, taken by an eminent artist in Fife, and each set in a
locket, for the purpose of having the object of affection always
in view.
"The eyes of the old Thane were now turned towards Hin-
dostan with much anxiety; but his relation had not long arrived
in that distant quarter of the globe before he had the satisfaction
of receiving a letter, conveying the welcome intelligence of hi?,
* The Constitution of the Borough.
301
THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER.
having taken possession of his new station in a large frontier
town of the Company's dominions, and that great emoluments
were attached to the situation; which was confirmed by several
subsequent communications of the most gratifying description to
the old Thane, who took great pleasure in spreading the news
of the reformed habits and singular good fortune of his intended
heir. None of all his former acquaintances heard with such joy
the favourable report of the successful adventurer in the East,
as did the fair and accomplished daughter of the village surgeon ;
but his previous character caused her to keep her own corres¬
pondence with him secret from the parents, to whom even the
circumstance of her being acquainted with D was wholly
unknown, till her father received a letter from him, in which he
assured him of his attachment to Emma long before his de¬
parture from Fife; that having been so happy as to gain her
affections, he would have made her his wife before leaving his
native country, had he then had the means of supporting her in
a suitable rank through life; and that, having it now in his power
to do so, he only waited the consent of her parents to fulfil the
vow he had formerly made.
" The Doctor having a large family, with a very limited in-^
come to support them, and understanding that D had at
last become a person of sober and industrious habits, he gave
his consent, in which Emma's mother fully concurred.
" Aware of the straitened circumstances of the Doctor,
D remitted a sum of money to complete at Edinburgh
Emma's Oriental education, and fit her out in her journey to
India; she was to embark at Sheerness, on board one of the
Company's ships, for a port in India, at which place, he said,
he would wait her arrival, with a retinue suited to a person of
his rank in society.
" Emma set out from her father's house just in time to secure
a passage, as proposed by her intended husband, accompanied
by her only brother, who, on their arrival at Sheerness, met one
C , an old schoolfellow, captain of the ship by which Emma
was to proceed to India.
" It was the particular desire of the Doctor that his daughter
should be committed to the care of that gentleman, from the
time of her leaving the shores of Britain, till the intended mar-'
GROUNDWORK OF TIIE TALE.
365
riage ceremony was duly performed on lier arrival in India, a
charge that was frankly undertaken by the generous sea^
captain.
On the arrival of the fleet at the appointed port, D *
with a large cavalcade of mounted Pindarees, was, as expected,
in attendance, ready to salute Emma on landing, and to carry her
direct into the interior of the country. C , who had made
several voyages to the shores of Hindostan, knowing something
of Hindoo manners and customs, was surprised to see a private
individual in the Company's service with so many attendants ;
and when D declined having the marriage ceremony
performed, according to the rites of the Church, till he returned
to the place of his abode, C , more and more confirmed in
his suspicion that all was not right, resolved not to part with
Emma, till he had fulfilled, in the most satisfactory manner, the
promise he had made before Leaving England, of giving her
duly away in marriage. Not being able by her entreaties to
alter the resolution of D , Emma solicited her protector
C to accompany her to the place of her intended desti¬
nation, to which he most readily agreed, taking with him as
many of his crew as he deemed sufficient to ensure the safe
custody of his innocent protegee, should any attempt be made
to carry her away by force.
"Both parties journeyed onwards till they arrived at a fron¬
tier town, where a native Rajah was waiting the arrival of the
fair maid of Fife, with whom he had fallen deeply in love, from
seeing her miniature likeness in the possession of D , to
whom he had paid a large sum of money for the original, and
had only intrusted him to convey her in state to the seat of his
government.
" No sooner was this villanous action of D known to
C——, than he communicated the whole particulars to the
commanding officer of a regiment of Scotch Highlanders that
happened to be quartered in that part of India, begging at the
same time, for the honour of Caledonia, and protection of in¬
jured innocence, that he would use the means in his power, of
resisting any attempt that might be made by the native chief to
wrest from their hands the virtuous female who had been so
shamefully decoyed from her native country by the worst of
306
THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.
mankind. Honour occupies loo large a space in the heart of
the Gael to resist such a call of humanity.
" The Rajah, finding his claim was not to be acceded to, and
resolving to enforce the same, assembled his troops, and at¬
tacked with great fury the place where the affrighted Emma
was for a time secured by her countrymen, who fought in her
defence with all their native valour, which at length so over¬
powered their assailants, that they were forced to retire in every
direction, leaving behind many of their slain, among whom was
found the mangled corpse of the perfidious D .
" C was immediately afterwards married to Emma, and
my informant assured me he saw them many years afterwards,
living happily together in the county of Kent, on the fortune
bequeathed by the "Thane of Fife."
J. T.
Castle Douglas, July, 1832.
THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH
Is by far the best Tale of the Chronicles, and the principal in¬
cidents are founded on the following historical facts, extracted
from Tales of my Grandfather, first series, pp. 166 and seq.
" It happened, fortunately perhaps for the Lowlands, that
the wild Highlanders were as much addicted to quarrel with
each other as with their Lowland neighbours. Two clans, or
rather two leagues or confederacies, composed each of several
separate clans, fell into such deadly feud with each other, as
filled the whole neighbourhood with slaughter and discord.
When this feud or quarrel could be no otherwise ended, if
was resolved that the difference should be decided by a combat
of thirty men of the Clan Chattan, against the same number of
the Clan Kay; that (he battle should take place on the North
Inch of Perth, a beautiful and level meadow, in part surrounded
by the river Tay; and that it should be fought in presence of
the King and his nobles. Now, there was a cruel policy in this
arrangement; for it was to be supposed that all the best and
leading men of each clan would desire to be among the thirty
which were to light for their honour, and it was no less to be
expected that the battle would be very bloody and desperate.
CLANS CHATTAN AND KAY.
307
Thus, the probable event would be, that both clans, having lost
very many of their best arid bravest men, would be more easily
managed in future. Such was probably the view of the King and
his counsellors in permitting this desperate conflict, which, how¬
ever, was much in the spirit of the times.
The parties on each side were drawn out, armed with sword
and target, axe and dagger, and stood looking on each other with
fierce and savage aspects, when, just as the signal for fight was
expected, the commander of the Clan Chattan perceived that
one of his men, whose heart had failed him, had deserted his
standard. There was no time to seek another man from the clan,
so the chieftain, as his only resource, was obliged to offer a
reward to any one who would fight in the room of the fugitive.
Perhaps you think it might be difficult to get a man, who, for a
small hire, would undergo the perils of a battle which was likely
to be so obstinate and deadly. But in that fighting age, men
valued their lives lightly. One Henry Wynd, a citizen of Perth,
and a saddler by trade, a little bandy-legged man, but of great
strength and activity, and well accustomed to use the broad¬
sword, offered himself, for half a French crown, to serve on the
part of the Clan Chattan in the battle of that day.
The signal was then given by sound of the royal trumpets,
and of the great war-bagpipes of the Highlanders, and the two
parties fell on each other with the utmost fury; their natural
ferocity of temper being excited by feudal hatred against the
hostile clan, zeal for the honour of their own, and a conscious¬
ness that they were fighting in presence of the King and nobles
of Scotland. As they fought with the two-handed sword and
axe, the wounds they inflicted on each other were of a ghastly
size and character. Heads were cloven asunder, limbs were
lopped from the trunk. The meadow was soon drenched with
blood, and covered with dead and wounded men.
In the midst of the deadly conflict, the chieftain of the Clan
Chattan observed that Henry Wynd, after he had slain one of
the Clan Kay, drew aside, and did not seem willing to fight more.
" 'How is this,' said he, 'art thou afraid?'
" ' Not I,' answered Henry; ' but I have done enough of work
for half-a-crown.'
" ' Forward and fight,' said the Highland chief; ' he that doth
not grudge his day's work, I will not stint him in his wages.'
36s
ANNE OF GE1ERSTEIN.
" Thus encouraged, Henry Wynd again plunged into the
conflict, and, by his excellence as a swordsman, contributed a
great deal to the victory, which at length fell to the Clan Chat-
tan. Ten of the victors, withHenry Wynd, whom the Highlanders
called the Gow Chrom (that is, the crooked or bandy-legged
smith, for he was both a smith and saddler, war-saddles being
then made of steel), were left alive, but they were all wounded.
Only one of the Clan Kay survived, and he was unhurt. But
this single individual dared not oppose himself to eleven men,
though all more or less injured, but, throwing himself into the
Tay, swam to the other side, and went off to carry to the High¬
lands the news of his clan's defeat. It is said, he was so ill
received by his kinsmen that he put himself to death.
"Some part of the above story is matter of tradition, but the
general fact is certain. Henry Wynd was rewarded to the
Highland chieftain's best abilities; but it was remarked, that,
when the battle was over, he was not able to tell the name of
the clan he had fought for, replying, when asked on which
side he had been, that he was fighting for his own hand. Hence
the proverb, 'Every man for his own hand, as Henry Wynd
fought.'"
ANNE OF GEIERSTE1N.
This Novel, by the Author's own confession, contains more
violations of accuracy in historical details, than any of the others.
It was chiefly the work of leisure hours in Edinburgh, not of
quiet mornings in the country, and he was obliged to trust too
much memory. He says in his Introduction: "Perhaps there
are few men whose memory serves them with equal fidelity as
to many different classes of subjects; but I am sorry to say, that
while mine has rarely failed me as to any snatch of verse or trait
of character that had once interested my fancy, it has generally
been a frail support, not only as to names, and dates, and other
minute technicalities of history, but as to many more important
things.
"I hope this apology will suffice for one mistake which has
been pointed out to me by the descendant of one of the persons
introduced in this story, and who complains with reason that
GROUNDWORK OF THE NOVEL.
3C9
1 have made a peasant deputy of the ancestor of a distinguished
and noble family, none of whom ever declined from the high
rank, to which, as far as my pen trenched on it, I now beg
leave to restore them. The name of the person who figures as
deputy of Soleure in these pages, was always, it seems, as it is
now, that of a patrician house. I am reminded by the same
correspondent of another slip, probably of less consequence.
The Emperor of the days my novel refers to, though the repre¬
sentative of that Leopold who fell in the great battle of Sempach,
never set up any pretentions against the liberties of the gallant
Swiss, but, on the contrary, treated with uniform prudence
and forbearance such of that nation as had established their
independence, and with wise, as well as generous kindness,
others who still continued to acknowledge fealty to the imperial
crown. Errors of this sort, however trivial, ought never, in my
opinion, to be pointed out to an author, without meeting with
a candid and respectful acknowledgment.
"With regard to a general subject of great curiosity and inte¬
rest, in the eyes at least of all antiquarian students, upon which
I have touched at some length in this nari^ative, I mean the
Vehmic tribunals of Westphalia, a name so awful in men's
ears during many centuries, and which, through the genius of
Goethe, has again been revived in public fancy with a full share
of its ancient terrors, I am bound to state my opinion that a
wholly new and most important light has been thrown upon
this matter since Anne of Geierstein first appeared, by the
elaborate researches of my ingenious friend, Mr. Francis Pal-
grave. "
At the end of the Introduction he adds, " there are probably
several other points on which I ought to have embraced this
opportunity of enlarging; but the necessity of preparing for an
excursion to foreign countries, in quest of health and strength,
that have been for some time sinking, makes me cut short my
address upon the present occasion.
" Although I have never been in Switzerland, and numerous
mistakes must of course have occurred in my attempts to de¬
scribe the local scenery of that romantic region, I must not
conclude without a statement highly gratifying to myself, that
the work met with a reception of more than usual cordiality
among the descendants of the Alpine heroes whose manners f
24
370
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.1
had ventured to treat of; and I have in particular to express
my thanks to the several Swiss gentlemen who have, since the
novel was published, enriched my little collection of armour
with specimens of the huge weapon that sheared the lances of
the Austrian chivalry at Sempach, and was employed with equal
success on the bloody days of Granson andMorat. Of the ancient
double-handed espadons of the Switzer, I have, in this way,
received, I think, not less than six, in excellent preservation, from
as many different individuals, who thus testified their general
approbation of these pages. They are not the less interesting,
that gigantic swords, of nearly the same pattern and dimensions,
were employed in their conflicts with the bold knights and men-
at-arms of England, by Wallace, and the sturdy foot-soldiers
who, under his guidance, laid the fouudations of Scottish inde¬
pendence. "
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.
The following Advertisement, from the pen of the author's son-
in-law, Mr. Lockart, precedes the last edition of Count Robert
of Paris.
"Sir Walter Scott transmitted from Naples, in February
1832, an Introduction for Castle Dangerous; but if he ever
wrote one for a Second Edition of Robert of Paris, it has not
been discovered among his papers.
" Some notes, chiefly extracts from the books which he had
been observed to consult while dictating this novel, are now
appended to its pages; and in addition to what the author had
given in the shape of historical information respecting the prin¬
cipal real persons introduced, the reader is here presented with
what may probably amuse him, the passage of the Alexiad, in
which Anna Comnena describes the incident which originally,
no doubt, determined Sir Walter's choice of a hero.
"May, A.D. 1097.—As for the multitude of those who ad¬
vanced towards the great city, let it be enough to say that they
were as the stars in the heaven, or as the sand upon the
seashore. They were, in the words of Homer, as many as the
leaves and flowers of spring. But for the names of the
leaders, though they are present in my memory, I will not re-
ADVERTISEMENT, BY Mr. LOCKHART.
371
late them. The numbers of these would alone deter me, even
if my language furnished the means of expressing their bar¬
barous sounds; and for what purpose should I afflict my read¬
ers with a long enumeration of the names of those, whose visible
presence gave so much horror to all that beheld them ?
"As soon, therefore, as they approached the Great City, they
occupied the station appointed for them by the Emperor, near
to the monastery of Cosmidius. But this multitude were not,
like the Hellenic one of old, to be restrained and governed by
the loud voices of nine heralds ; they required the constant su¬
perintendence of chosen and valiant soldiers, to keep them from
violating the commands of the Emperor.
" He, meantime, laboured to obtain from the other leaders
that acknowledgment of his supreme authority, which had already
been drawn from Godfrey [ToPTocppe] himself. But notwith¬
standing the willingness of some to accede to this proposal, and
their assistance in working on the minds of their associates, the
Emperor's endeavours had little success, as the majority were
looking for the arrival of Bohemund \BcttpovTos ], in whom they
placed their chief confidence, and resorted to every art with the
view of gaining time. The Emperor, whom it was not easy to
deceive, penetrated their motives; and by granting to one
powerful person demands which had been supposed out of all
bounds of expectation, and by resorting to a variety of other
devices, he at length prevailed, and won general assent to the
following of the example of Godfrey, who also was sent for in
person to assist in this business.
" All, therefore, being assembled, and Godfrey among them,
the oath was taken ; but when all was finished, a certain Noble
among these Counts had the audacity to seat himself on the
throne of the Emperor. [ToA^wo-ew rwzvo tb-xvtav ko^tcov
svysvY)? sis tof t« Bute/As®? sjtedWsp.] The Emperor
restrained himself and said nothing, for he was well acquainted
of old with the nature of the Latins.
" But the Count Baldwin [BetAcTaiPofj stepping forth, and seiz¬
ing him by the hand, dragged him thence, and with many
reproaches said, ' It becomes thee not to do such things here,
especially after having taken the oath of fealty [S'ovhsiav vVo<r£e-
peva.] It is not the custom of the Roman Emperors to permit
any of their inferiors to sit beside them, not even of such as are
•24 *
3'i'2
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS
born subjects of their empire; and it is necessary to respect the
customs of the country. But he, answering nothing to Baldwin,
stared yet more fixedly upon the Emperor, and muttered to
himself something in his own dialect, which, being interpreted,
was to this effect—' Behold, what rustic fellow is this,
to be seated alone while such leaders stand around him!' The
movement of his lips did not escape the Emperor, who called to
him one that understood the Latin dialect, and enquired what
words the man had spoken. When he heard them, the Em¬
peror said nothing to the other Latins, but kept the thing to
himself. When, however, the business was all over, he called
near to him by himself that swelling and shameless Latin
[v^ti\o<ppovci sksivov ma dveufy], and asked of him, who he was,
of what lineage, and from what region he had come. ' I am a
Frank,' said he, 'of pure blood, of the Nobles. One thing I
know, that where three roads meet in the place from which I
came, there is an ancient church, in which whosoever has the
desire to measure himself against another in single combat,
prays God to help him therein, and afterwards abides the com¬
ing of one willing to encounter him. At that spot long time did
I remain, but the man bold enough to stand against me I found
not.' Hearing these words the Emperor said, ' If hitherto thou
hast sought battles in vain, the time is at hand which will furnish
thee with abundance of them. And I advise thee to place
thyself neither before the phalanx, nor in its rear, but to stand
fast in the midst of thy fellow-soldiers; for of old time I am well
acquainted w ith the warfare of the Turks.' With such advice
he dismissed not only this man, but the rest of those who
were about to depart on that expedition."—Alexiad, Book x,
pp. 237, 238.
Ducange, as is mentioned in the novel, identifies the church,
thus described by the crusader, with that of Our Lady of Sois-
sons, of which a French poet of the days of Louis VII. says—
Veiller y vont encore li Pelerin
Oil qui bataille veulent faire et fournir.
Ducange in Alex > ad, p. 86.
The Princess Anna Comnena, it may be proper to observe,
was born on the first of December, A.D. 1083, and was con¬
sequently in her fifteenth year when the chiefs of the first
ADVERTISEMENT, BY Mr. LOCKHART.
373
crusade made their appearance in her father's court. Even
then, however, it is not improbable that she might have been
the wife of Nicephorus Bryennius, whom, many years after his
death, she speaks of in her history as tov sp.n kaurctfct,, and in
other terms equally affectionate. The bitterness with which
she uniformly mentions Bohemund, Count of Tarentum, after¬
wards Prince of Antioch, has, however, been ascribed to a
disappointment in love; and on one remarkable occasion, the
Princess certainly expressed great contempt of her husband. 1
am aware of no other authorities for the liberties taken with
this lady's conjugal character in the novel.
Her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius, was the grandson of the
person of that name, who figures in history as the rival, in a
contest for the imperial throne, of Nicephorus Botoniates. He
was, on his marriage with Anna Comnena, invested with the
rank of Panhypersebastos, or Omnium, Augustissimus; but
Alexius deeply offended him, by afterwards recognising the su¬
perior and simpler dignity of a Sebastos. His eminent qualities,
both in peace and war, are acknowledged by Gibbon: and he
has left us four books of Memoirs, detailing the early part of his
father-in-law's history, and valuable as being the work of an
eyewitness of the most important events which he describes.
Anna Comnena appears to have considered it her duty to take
up the task which her husband had not lived to complete; and
hence the Alexiad—certainly, with all its defects, the first histo¬
rical work that has yet proceeded from a female pen.
" The life of the Emperor Alexius," (says Gibbon), " has been
delineated by the pen of a favourite daughter, who was inspired
by tender regard for his person, and a laudable zeal to perpe¬
tuate his virtues. Conscious of the just suspicion of her readers,
the Princess repeatedly protests, that, besides her personal
knowledge, she had searched the discourse and writings of the
most respectable veterans ; and that after an interval of thirty
years, forgotten by, and forgetful of the world, her mournful
solitude was inaccessible to hope and fear : that truth, the naked
perfect truth, was more dear than the memory of her parent.
Yet instead of the simplicity of style and narrative which wins
our belief, an elaborate affectation of rhetoric and science be¬
trays in every page the vanity of a female author. The genuine
character of Alexius is lost in a vague constellation of virtues;
374
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.
and the perpetual strain of panegyric and apology awakens our
jealousy, to question the veracity of the historian, and the merit
of her hero. We cannot, however, refuse her judicious and
important remark, that the disorders of the times were the mis¬
fortune and the glory of Alexius; and that every calamity which
can afflict a declining empire was accumulated on his reign by
the justice of Heaven and the vices of his predecessors. In the
east, the victorious Turks had spread, from Persia to the Hel¬
lespont, the reign of the Koran and the Crescent; the west was
invaded by the adventurous valour of the Normans; and, in the
moments of peace, the Danube poured forth new swarms, who
had gained in the science of war what they had lost in the fero¬
ciousness of their manners. The sea was not less hostile than
the land; and, while the frontiers were assaulted by an open
enemy, the palace was distracted with secret conspiracy and
treason.
" On a sudden, the banner of the Cross was displayed by the
Latins; Europe was precipitated on Asia; and Constantinople
had almost been swept away by this impetuous deluge. In the
tempest Alexius steered the Imperial vessel with dexterity and
courage. At the head of his armies, he was bold in action, skil¬
ful in stratagem, patient of fatigue, ready to improve his advan¬
tages, and rising from his defeats with inexhaustible vigour.
The discipline of the camp was reversed, and a new generation
of men and soldiers was created by the precepts and example
of their leader. In his intercourse with the Latins, Alexius was
patient and artful; his discerning eye pervaded the new system
of an unknown world.
"The increase of the male and female branches of his fa¬
mily adorned the throne, and secured the succession; but their
princely luxury and pride offended the patricians, exhausted the
revenue, and insulted the misery of the people. Anna is a faith¬
ful witness that his happiness was destroyed and his health
broken by the cares of a public life; the patience of Constan¬
tinople was fatigued by the length and severity ol his reign; and
before Alexius expired, he had lost the love and reverence of
his subjects. The clergy could not forgive his application of
the sacred riches to the defence of the state; but they applauded
his theological learning, and ardent zeal for the orthodox faith,
which he defended with his tongue, his pen, and his sword.
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
875
Even the sincerity of his moral and religious virtues was sus¬
pected by the persons who had passed their lives in his con¬
fidence. In his last hours, when he was pressed by his wife
Irene to alter the succession, he raised his head, and breathed a
pious ejaculation on the vanity of the world. The indignant
reply of the Empress may be inscribed as an epitaph on his
tomb,—' You die, as you have lived—a hypocrite.'
" It was the wish of Irene to supplant the eldest of her sons
in favour of her daughter, the Princess Anna, whose philosophy
would not have refused the weight of a diadem. But the order
of male succession was asserted by the friends of their country ;
the lawful heir drew the royal signet from the finger of his in¬
sensible or conscious father, and the empire obeyed the master
of the palace. Anna Comnena was stimulated by ambition and
revenge to conspire against the life of her brother; and when
the design was prevented by the fears or scruples of her husband,
she passionately exclaimed that nature had mistaken the two
sexes, and had endowed Bryennius with the soul of a woman.
After the discovery of her treason, the life and fortune of Anna
were justly forfeited to the laws. Her life was spared by the
clemency of the Emperor, but he visited the pomp and treasures
of her palace, and bestowed the rich confiscation on the most
deserving of his friends."—History of the Decline and Fall of
the Roman Empire, chap, xlviii.
The year of Anna's death is nowhere recorded. She appears
to have written the Alexiad in a convent; and to have spent
nearly thirty years in this retirement, before her book was pu¬
blished.
For accurate particulars of the public events touched on in
Robert of Paris, the reader is referred to the above quoted
author, chapters xlviii, xlix, and 1; and to the first volume of
Mills' History of the Crusades.
J. G. L,
London, March, 1833,
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
The following introduction to " Castle Dangerous" was
forwarded by Sir Walter Scott from Naples in February, 1832v
37ti
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
together with some corrections of the text, and notes on localities
mentioned in the Novel.
The materials for the Introduction must have been collected
before he left Scotland, in September, 1831; but in the hurry
of preparing for his voyage, he had not been able to arrange
them so as to accompany the first edition of this Romance.
A few notes, supplied by the Editor, are placed within brackets.
"The incidents on which the ensuing Novel mainly turns, are
derived from the ancient Metrical Chronicle of 'the Bruce,' by
Archdeacon Barbour, and from the ' History of the Houses of
Douglas and Angus,' by David Hume of Godscroft; and are
sustained by the immemorial tradition of the western parts of
Scotland. They are so much in consonance with the spirit and
manners of the troubled age to which they are referred, that 1
can see no reason for doubting their being founded in fact: the
names, indeed, of numberless localities in the vicinity of Douglas
Castle, appear to attest, beyond suspicion, many even of the
smallest circumstances embraced in the story of Godscroft.
" Among all the associates of Robert the Bruce, in his great
enterprise of rescuing Scotland from the power of Edward, the
first place is universally conceded to James, the eighth Lord
Douglas, to this day venerated by his countrymen as ' the Good
Sir James:'
" The Gud Schyr James of Douglas,
That in his time sa worthy was,
That off his price and his bounte,
Iri far landis renownyt was he."
Barbour.
" The Good Sir James, the dreadful blacke Douglas,
That in his dayes so wise and worthie was,
Wha here, and on the infidels of Spain,
Such honour, praise, and triumphs did obtain."
Gordon.
"From the time when the King of England refused to reinstate
him, on his return from France, where he had received the
education of chivalry, in the extensive possessions of his family,
—which had been held forfeited by the exertions of his father,
William the Hardy—the young knight of Douglas appears to
have embraced the cause of Bruce with enthusiastic ardour, and
to have adhered to the fortunes of his sovereign with unwearied
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 377
fidelity and devotion. ' The Dougiasse,' says Hoilinshed, ' was
right joyfully received of King Robert, in whose service he
faithfully continued, both in peace and war, to his life's end.
Though the surname and familie of the Douglasses was in some
estimation of nobilitie before those daies, yet the rising thereof
to honour chanced through this James Dougiasse; for, by meanes
of his advancement, others of that lineage tooke occasion, by
their singular manhood and noble prowess, shewed at sundrie
times in defence of the realme, to grow to such height in
authoritie and estimation, that their mightie puissance in main-
rent, * lands, and great possessions, at length was (through
suspicion conceived by the kings that succeeded) the cause in
part of their ruinous decay.'
" In every narrative of the Scottish war of independence, a
considerable space is devoted to those years of perilous adventure
and suffering which were spent by the illustrious friend of Bruce,
in harassing the English detachments successively occupying his
paternal territory, and in repeated and successful attempts to
wrest the formidable fortress of Douglas Castle itself from their
possession. In the English, as well as Scotch Chronicles, and
inRymer's Foedera, occur frequent notices of the different officers
intrusted by Edward with the keeping of this renowned strong¬
hold; especially Sir Robert de Clifford, ancestor of the heroic
race of the Cliffords, Earls of Cumberland ; his lieutenant, Sir
Richard de Thurlewalle (written sometimes Thruswall), of
Thirwall Castle, on the Tippal, in Northumberland; and Sir
John de Walton, the romantic story of whose love-pledge, to
hold the Castle of Douglas for a year and day, or surrender al I
hope of obtaining his mistress's favour, with the tragic conse ¬
quences, softened in the Novel, is given at length in Godscroft,
and has often been pointed out as one of the affecting passages
in the chronicles of chivalry, j-
"The Author, before he had made much progress in this,
probably the last of his Novels, undertook a journey to Doug-
lasdale, for the purpose of examining the remains of the famous
Castle, the Kirk of St. Bride of Douglas, the patron saint of that
* Vassalage.
f [The reader will find both this story, and that of Robert of Paris, in Sir
W. Scott's Essay on Chivalry, published in 1818, in the Supplement to the
Encyclopaedia Britannica.—E.]
378
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
great family, and the various localities alluded to by Godscroft,
in his account of the early adventures of Good Sir James; but
though he was fortunate enough to find a zealous and well-
informed cicerone in Mr. Thomas Haddow, and had every as -
sistance from the kindness of Mr. Alexander Finlay, the resident
Chamberlain of his friend, Lord Douglas, the state of his health
at the time was so feeble, that he found himself incapable of
pursuing his researches, as in better days he would have delight¬
ed to do, and was obliged to be contented with such a cursory
view of scenes, in themselves most interesting, as could be
snatched in a single morning, when any bodily exertion was
painful. Mr. Haddow was attentive enough to forward subse¬
quently some notes on the points which the Author had seemed
desirous of investigating; but these did not reach him until,
being obliged to prepare matters for a foreign excursion in quest
of health and strength, he had been compelled to bring his
work, such as it is, to a conclusion.
"The remains of the old Castle of Douglas are inconsiderable.
They consist indeed of but one ruined tower, standing at a short
distance from the modern mansion, which itself is only a frag¬
ment of the design on which the Duke of Douglas meant to
reconstruct the edifice, after its last accidental destruction by
fire. * His Grace had kept in view the ancient prophecy, that
* [The following notice of Douglas Castle, &c. is from the Descriptioo of
the Sheriffdom of Lanark, by William Hamilton of Wishaw, written in the
beginning of the last century, and printed by the Maitland Club of Glasgow
in 1831
" Douglas parish, and baronie, and lordship, heth very long appertained to
the family of Douglass and continued with the Earles of Douglass untill their
fatall forfeiture, anno 1455; during which tyme there are many noble and im¬
portant actions recorded in histories performed by them, by the lords and earls
of that great family. It was thereafter given to Douglass, Earl of Anguse, and
continued with them untill William, Earle of Anguse, was created Marquess of
Douglass, anno 1633; and is now the principal seat of the Marquess of Douglass
and his family. It is a large baronie and parish, and ane laick patronage; and the
Marquess is both titular and patron. He heth there, near to the church, a very
considerable great house, called the Castle of Douglass; and near the church is
a fyne village, called the town of Douglass, long since erected in a burgh or
baronie. It heth ane handsome church, with many ancient monuments and
inscriptions on the old interments of the Earles of this place.
" The water of Douglas runs quyte through the whole length of this parish,
and upon either side of the water it is called Douglasdale. It toucheth Clyde
towards the north, and is bounded by Lesmahagow to the west, Kyle to the
southwest, Crawfurd John and Carmichaell to the south and south-east. It is.
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
o79
as often as Douglas Castle might be destroyed, it should rise
again in enlarged dimensions and improved splendour, and
projected a pile of building, which, if it had been completed,
would have much exceeded any nobleman's residence then
existing in Scotland—as, indeed, what has been finished,
amounting to about one-eighth part of the plan, is sufficiently
extensive for the accommodation of a large establishment, and
contains some apartments the dimensions of which are mag¬
nificent. The situation is commanding; and though the Duke's
successors have allowed the mansion to continue as he left it,
great expense has been lavished on the environs, which now
present a vast sweep of richly undulated woodland, stretching
to the borders of the Cairntable mountains, repeatedly mentioned
as the favourite retreat of the great ancestor of the family in the
days of his hardship and persecution. There remains at the head
of the adjoining bourg, the choir of the ancient church of St.
Bride, having beneath it the vault which was used till lately
as the burial-place of this princely race, and only abandoned
when their stone and leaden coffins had accumulated, in the
course of five or six hundred years, in such a way that it could
accommodate no more. Here a silver case, containing the dust
of what was once the brave heart of Good Sir James, is still
pointed out; and in the dilapidated choir above appears, though
in a sorely ruinous state, the once magnificent tomb of the war¬
rior himself. After detailing the well-known circumstances of
Sir James's death in Spain, 24th August, 1330, where he fell,
assisting the King of Arragon in an expedition against the Moors,
when on his way back to Scotland from Jerusalem, to which he
had conveyed the heart of Bruce,—the old poet Barbour tells
us that—
" Quhen his men lang had mad murnyn,
Thai debowalyt him, and syne
Gert scher him swa, that mycht be tane
The fleseh all haly fra the bane,
And the carioune thar in haly place
Erdyt, with rycht gret worschip, was.
a pleasant strath, plentifull in grass and corn, and coall; and the minister is
well provided.
" The lands of Heysleside, belonging to Samuel Douglass, has a good house
and pleasant seat, close by a wood," &c.—p. 65.]
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
" The baays haue thai with thaiai taae ;
And syne ar to thair schippis gane;
Syne towart Scotland held thair way,
And thar ar cummyn in lull gret hy.
And the banys lionorabilly
In till the Kyrk off Douglas war
Erdyt, with dule and inekill car.
Schyr Archebald his sone gert syn
Off alabastre, bath fair and f'yne,
Ordane a tumbe sa richly
As it behowyt to swa worthy."
"The monument is supposed to have been wantonly muti¬
lated and defaced by a detachment of Cromwell's troops, who,
as was their custom, converted the kirk of St. Bride of Douglas
into a stable for their horses. Enough, however, remains to
identify the resting-place of the great Sir James. The effigy, of
dark stone, is cross-legged, marking his character as one who
had died after performing the pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre,
and in actual conflict with the infidels of Spain; and the intro¬
duction of the Heart, adopted as an addition to the old arms of
Douglas, in consequence of the knight's fulfilment of Bruce's
dying injunction, appears, when taken in connexion with the
posture of the figure, to set the question at rest. The monument,
in its original state, must have been not inferior in any respect
to the best of the same period in Westminster Abbey; and the
curious reader is referred for farther particulars of it to ' The
Sepulchral Antiquities of Great Britain, by Edward Blore, F.S.A.'
London, 4to, 1826; where may also be found interesting details
of some of the other tombs and effigies in the cemetery of the
first house of Douglas.
"As considerable liberties have been taken with the historical
incidents on which this novel is founded, it is due to the reader
to place before him such extracts from Godscroft and Barbour
as may enable him to correct any mis-impression. The passages
introduced in the Appendix, from the ancient poem of'The
Bruce,' will moreover gratify those who have not in their pos¬
session a copy of the text of Barbour, as given in the valuable
quarto edition of my learned friend Dr. Jamieson, as furnishing
on the whole a favourable specimen of the style and manner of
a venerable classic, who wrote when Scotland was still full of
the fame and glory of her liberators from the yoke ofPlantage -
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
381
wet, and especially of Sir James Douglas, ' of whom,' says
Godscroft, ' we will not omit here (toshut up all), the judgment
of those times concerning him, in a rude verse indeed, yet such
as beareth witness of his true magnanimity and invincible mind
in either fortune:—
'Good Sir James Douglas (who wise, and wight, and worthy was),
Was never overglad in 110 winning, nor yet oversad for no tineing;
Good fortune and evil chance he weighed hoth in one balance.'
w. s.
No I.
Extracts from " The History of the Houses of Douglas and
Angus. By Master David Hume of Godscroft." Fol. Edit.
* * * And here indeed the course of the King's misfortunes
begins to make some halt and stay by thus much prosperous
successe in his own person; but more in the person of Sir James,
by the reconquests of his owne castles and countries. From hence
he went into Douglasdale, where, by the means of his father's
old servant, Thomas Dickson, he took in the Castle of Douglas,
and not being able to keep it, he caused burn it, contenting
himself with this, that his enemies had one strength fewer in
that country than before. The manner of his taking of it is said
to have beene thus:—Sir James taking only with him two of his
servants, went to Thomas Dickson, of whom he was received
with tears, after he had revealed himself to him, for the good
old man knew him not at first, being in mean and homely ap-
parell. There he kept him secretly in a quiet chamber, and
brought unto him such as had been trusty servants to his father,
not all at once, but apart by one and one, for fear of discoverie.
Their advice was, that on Palmsunday, when the English would
come forth to the church, and his partners were convened,
that then he should give the word, and cry the Douglas slogan,
and presently set upon them that should happen to be there,
who being dispatched, the Castle might be taken easily. This
being concluded, and they come, so soon as the English were
entered into the church with palms in their hands (according
382
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
to the costume of that day), little suspecting or fearing any such
thing, Sir James, according to their appointment, cryed too
soon (a Douglas, a Douglas!) which being heard in the church
(this was Saint Bride's church of Douglas), Thomas Dickson,
supposing he had beene hard at hand, drew out his sword, and
ran upon them, having none to second him but another man, so
that, oppressed by the number of his enemies, he was beaten
downe and slaine. In the mean time, Sir James being come, the
English that were in the chancel kept off the Scots, and having
.the advantage of the strait and narrow entrie, defended them¬
selves manfully. But Sir James encouraging his men, not so
much by words, as by deeds and good example, and having
slain the boldest resisters, prevailed at last, and entring the
place, slew some twenty-six of their number, and tooke the
rest, about ten or twelve persons, intending by them to get the
Castle upon composition, or to enter with them when the gates
should be opened to let them in: but it needed not, for they of
the Castle were so secure, that there was none left to keep it save
the porter and the cooke, who knowing nothing of what had
hapned at the church, which stood a large quarter of a mile
from thence, had left the gate wide open, the porter standing
without, and the cooke dressing the dinner within. They entred
without resistance, and meat being ready, and the cloth laid,
they shut the gates, and tooke their refection at good leasure.
Now that he had gotten the Castle into his hands, considering
with himselfe (as he was a man no lesse advised than valiant)
that it was hard for him to keep it, the English being as yet the
stronger in that countrey, who if they should besiege him, he
knewe ofno reliefe, he thought better to carry away such things
as be most easily transported, gold, silver, and7 apparell, with
ammunition and armour, whereof he had greatest use and need,
and to destroy the rest of the provision, together with the Castle
itselfe, then to diminish the number of his followers for a gar¬
rison there where it could do no good. And so he caused carrie
the meale and malt, and other cornes and graine, into the
cellar, and laid all together in one heape: then he took the
prisoners and slew them, to revenge the death of his trustie and
valiant servant, Thomas Dickson, mingling the victuals with
their bloud, and burying their carkasses in the heap of corne:
after that he struck out the heads of the barrells and puncheons,
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 383
and let the drink runn through all; and then he cast the carkasses
of dead horses and other carrion amongst it, throwing the salt
above all, so to make all together unusefull to the enemie; and
this cellar is called yet the Douglas Lairder. Last of all, he set
the house on lire, and burnt all the timber, and what else the
fire could overcome, leaving nothing but the scorched walls
behind him. And this seemes to be the first taking of the Castle
of Douglas, for it is supposed that he took it twice. For this
service, and others done to Lord William his father, Sir James
gave unto Thomas Dickson the lands of Hisleside, which hath
beene given him before the castle was taken as an encouragement
to whet him on, and not after, or he was slain in the church:
which was both liberally and wisely done of him, thus to hearten
and draw men to his service by such a noble beginning. The
Castle being burnt, Sir James retired, and parting his men into
divers companies, so as they might be most secret, he caused
cure such as were wounded in the fight, and he himselfe kept
as close as he could, 'waiting ever for an occasion to enterprise
something against the enemie. So soone as he was gone, the
Lord Clifford being advertised of what had happened, came
himselfe in person to Douglas, and caused re-edifle and repair
the Castle in a very short time, unto which he also added a
Tower, which is yet called Harries Tower from him, and so
returned into England, leaving one Thurswall to be Captain
thereof.—Pp. 26—28.
" He (Sir James Douglas) getting him again into Douglasdale,
did use this stratagem against Thurswall, Captain of the Castle,
under the said Lord Clifford. He caused some of his folk drive
away the cattle that fed near unto the Castle, and when the
Captain of the garrison followed to rescue, gave orders to
his men to leave them and to flee away. Thus he did often to
make the Captain slight such frays, and to make him secure,
that he might not suspect any further end to be on it; which
when he had wrought sufficiently (as he thought), he laid some
men in ambuscado, and sent others away to drive such beasts
as they should find in the view of the Castle, as if they had
been thieves and robbers, as they had done often before. The
38-1
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
Captain healing of it, and supposing there was no greater
danger now than had been before, issued forth of the Castle,
and followed after them with such haste that his men (running
who should be first) were disordered and out of their ranks.
The drivers also fled as fast as they could till they had drawn
the Captain a little way beyond the place of ambuscado, which
when they perceived, rising quickly out of their covert, they set
fiercely upon him and his company, and so slew himself and
chased his men back to the Castle, some of whom were over¬
taken and slain, others got into the Castle and so were saved.
Sir James, not being able to force the house, took what booty
he could get without in the fields, and so departed. By this
means, and such other exploits, he so affrighted the enemy,
that it was counted a matter of such great jeopardy to keep this
Castle, that it began to be called the adventurous (or hazardous)
Castle of Douglas: Whereupon Sir John Walton being in suit
of an English lady, she wrote to him that when he had kept the
adventurous Castle of Douglas seven years, then he might think
himself worthy to be a suitor to her. Upon this occasion, Walton
took upon him the keeping of it, and succeeded to Thurswall;
but he ran the same fortune with the rest that were before him.
"For, Sir James having first dressed an ambuscado near unto
the place, he made fourteen of his men take so many sacks,
and fill them with grass, as though it had been corn, which
they carried in the way toward Lanark, the chief market town
in that county: so hoping to draw forth the Captain by that bait,
and either to take him or the Castle, or both.
Neither was this expectation frustrate, for the Captain did
bite, and came forth to have taken this victual (as he supposed).
But ere he could reach these carriers, Sir James, with his
company, had gotten between the castle and him: and these
disguised carriers, seeing the Captain following after them, did
quickly cast off their upper garments, wherein they had masked
themselves, and throwing off their sacks, mounted themselves
on horseback, and met the Captain with a sharp encounter, he
being so much the more amazed that it was unlooked for:
wherefore, when he saw these carriers metamorphosed into
warriors, and ready to assault him, fearing (that which was)
that there was some train laid for them, he turned about to have
retired into the Castle; but there also he met with his enemies;
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
385
between which two companies he and his followers were slain,
so that none escaped; the Captain afterwards being searched,
they found (as it is reported) his mistress's letters ahout him.
Then he went and took in the Castle, but it is uncertain (say
our writers) whether by force or composition; but it seems that
the Constable, and those that were within, have yielded it up
without force; in regard that he used them so gently, which he
would not have done if he had taken it at utterance. For he
sent them all safe home to the Lord Clifford, and gave them
also provision and money for their entertainment by the way.
The Castle, which he had burnt only before, now he razeth,
and casts down the walls thereof to the ground. By these and
the like proceedings, within a short while he freed Douglasdale,
Attrick Forest, and Jedward Forest, of the English garrisons
and subjection."—Ibid, page 29.
No II.
[Extracts from the Bruce.—"Liber compositus per Magistrum
Johannem Barber, Archidiaconum Abyrdonensem, de gestis,
bellis, et virtutibus, Domini Roberti Brwyss, Regis Scocie
illustrissimi, et de conquestu regni Scocie per eundem, et de
Domino Jacobo de Douglas."—Edited by John Jamieson, D.D.,
F.R.S.E., &c. &c. Edinburgh, 1820.]
Now takis James his wiage
Towart Dowglas, his heretage,
With twa yemen, for owtyn ma;
That wes a symple stuff to ta,
A land or a castell to win.
The quhethir he yarnyt to begyn
Till bring purposs till ending;
For gud help is in gud begynnyng,
For gud begynnyng, and hardy,
Gyff if he followit wittily,
May ger oftsyss unlikly thing
Cum to full conabill ending.
Swa did it here : but he wes wyss
And saw he mycht, on nakyn wyss,
Werray his fa with evyn mycht;
Tharfor he thocht to wyrk with slycht.
And in Dowglas daile, his countre,
Upon an evynnyng entryt he.
386
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
And than a man wonnyt tharby,
That was off freyndis weill mychty,
And ryche of moble, and off cateill;
And had bene till his fadyr leyll;
And till him selff, in his yowthed,
He haid done mony a thankfull deid.
Thom Dicson wes his name perfay.
Till him he send; and gan him pray,
That he wald cum all anerly
For to spek with him priuely.
And he hut daunger till him gais :
Bot fra he tauld him quhat he wais,
He gret for joy, and for pit6;
And him rycht till his houss had he;
Quhar in a chambre priuely
He held him, and his cumpany,
That nane had off him persaving.
Off mete, and drynk, and othyr thing,
That mycht thaim eyss, thai had plenty.
Sa wrocht he thorow sutelt£,
That all the lele men off that land,
That with his fadyr war duelland,
This gud man gert cum, ane and ane,
And mak him manrent euir ilkane;
And he him selff fyrst homage maid.
Dowglas in part gret glaidschip haid,
That the gud men off his countr6
Wald swagate till him bundyn be.
He speryt the conwyne off the land,
And quha the castell had in hand.
And thai him tauld all halily;
And syne amang them priuely
Thai ordanyt, that he still suld be
In hiddillis, and in priwet£,
Till Palme Sonday, that wes ner hand,
The thrid day eftyr folowand.
For than the folk off that countre
Assemblyt at the kyrk wald be;
And thai, that in the castell wer,
Wald als be thar, thar palmys to ber,
As folk that had na dreid off ill;
For thai thoucht all wes at thair will.
Than suld he cum with his twa men.
Bot, for that men suld nocht him ken,
He suld ane mantill haiff auld and bar,
And a flaill, as he a thresscher war.
Undyr the mantill nocht for thi
He suld be armyt priuely.
And quhen the men off his country,
That suld all boune befor him be,
His ensenye mycht her hym cry,
Then suld thai, full enforcely,
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
3S7
Rycht ymyddys the kvrk aasaill
The Ingliss men with hard bataill
Swa that nane mycht eschap tham fra ;
For thar throwch trowyt thai to ta
The castell, that besid wes ner.
And qu'hen this, that I tell you her,
Wes diuisyt, and undertane,
Ukane till his howss liame is gane;
And held this spek in priuet6,
Till the day off thar assembly.
The folk upon the Sonounday
Held to Saynct Bridis kyrk thair way;
And tha that in the castell war
Ischyt owt, bath less and mar.
And went thair palmys for to ber;
Owtane a cuk and a porter.
James off Dowglas off thair cummyng,
And quhat thai war, had witting;
And sped him till the kyrk in hy.
Bot or he come, too hastily
Ane off his cryit, " Dowglas! Dowglas !"
Thomas Dikson, that nerrest was
Till thaim that war off the castell,
That war all innouth the chancell,
Quhen he "Dowglass!" swa hey herd cry,
Drew owt his swerd ; and fellely
Ruschyt amang thaim to and fra.
Bot ane or twa, for owtyn ma,
Than in hy war left lyand,
Quhill Dowglass come rycht at hand,
And then enforcyt on thaim the cry.
Bot thai the chansell sturdely
Held and thaim defendyt wele,
Till off thair men war slayne sumdell.
Bot the Dowglace sa weill him bar,
That all the men, that with him war,
Had comfort off his wele doyng;
And he him sparyt nakyn thing,
Bot provyt swa his force in fycht,
That throw his worschip, and his mycht,
His men sa keynly helpyt than,
That thai the chansell on thaim wan.
Than dang thai on swa hardyly,
That in schort tyme men mycht se.ly
The twa part dede, or then deand.
The lave war sesyt sone in hand
Swa that off thretty levyt nane,
That thai ne war slayne ilkan, or tane.
James off Dowglas, quhen this wes done,
The prcsoneris has he tane alsone;
r> *
388
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
And, with thaim off his cumpany,
Towart the castell went in hy,
Or noyiss, or cry, suld rvss.
And for he wald thaim sone surpriss,
That levyt in the castell war,
That war but twa for owtyn mer,
Fyve men or sex befor send he,
That fand all opyn the entre;
And entryt, and the porter tuk
Rycht at the gate, and syne the cuk.
With that Dowglas come to the gat,
And entryt in for owtyn debate;
And fand the mete all redy grathit,
With burdys set, and clathis layit.
The gaitis then he gert sper,
And sat, and eyt all at layser.
Syne all the gudis turssyt thai
That thaim thocht thai mycht haiff away ;
And namly wapnys, and armyng,
Siluer, and tresour, and clethyng.
Vyctallis, that mycht nocht tursyt be,
On this maner destroyit he.
All the victalis, owtane salt,
Als quheyt, and flour, and meill, and malt
In the wyne sellar gert he bring;
And samyn on the flux all flyng.
And the presoneris that he had tane
Rycht thar in gert he heid ilkane;
Syne off the townnys he hedis outstrak :
A foule melle thar gane he mak.
For meile, and malt, and blud, and wyne,
Ran all to gidder in a mellyne,
That was unsemly for to se.
Tharfor the men off that countre
For swa fele thar mellyt wer,
Callit it the " Dowglas Lardner."
Syne tuk he salt, as Ic hard tell,
And ded horss, and sordid the well;
And brynt all, owtakyn stane;
And is forth, with his menye, gayne
Till his resett; for him thoUcht weill,
Giff he had haldyn the castell,
It had bene assegyt raith;
And that him thoucht to mekill waith
For he ne had hop off reskewyng.
And it is to peralous thing
In castell assegyt to be,
Quhar want is off thir thingis thre;
Victaill, or meh with thair armyng,
Or than gud hop off reseuyng.
And for he dred thir thingis suld faile,
Tie chesyt furthwart to trawaill,
INTRODUCTION, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
389
Quhar he mycht at his larges be ;
And swa dryve furth his destane
On this wise wes the castell tan,
And slayne that war tharin ilkan.
The Dowglas syne all his menye
Gert in ser placis depertyt be;
For men suld wyt quhar thai war,
That yeid depertyt her and thar.
Thaim that war woundyt gert he ly
In till hiddillis, all priuely;
And gert gud leechis till thaim bring
Quhill that thai war in till heling.
And him selff, with a few menye,
Quhile ane, quhile twa, and quhile thre,
And umquhill all him allane,
In hiddillis throw the land is gane.
Sa dred he Inglis men his mycht,
That he durst nocht wele cum in sycht
For thai war that tyme all weldand
As maist lordis, our all the land.
Bot tythandis, that scalis sone,
Off this deid that Dowglas has done,
Come to the Cliffurd his ere, in hy,
That for his tynsaill wes sary;
And menyt his men that thai had slayne,
And syne has to purpos tane,
To big the castell up agayne.
Thar for, as man of mekill mayne,
He assemblit gret cumpany,
And till Dowglas he went in hy.
And biggyt wp the castell swyth;
And maid it rycht stalwart and styth
And put tharin victallis and men.
Ane off the Thyrwallys then
He left behind him Capitane,
And syne till Ingland went agayne.
Book IV. v. 255—-16Cc
Bot yeit than James of Dowglas
In Dowglas Daile travailland was;
Or ellys weill ner hand tharby,
In hyddillys sumdeill prively.
For he wald se his gouernyng,
That had the castell in keping :
And gert mak mony juperty,
To se quhethyr he wald isclie blythly
And quhcn he persavyt that he
Wald blythly ische "with his menye
3'JO
CASTLE DANGEROUS.
lie maid a gadring priuely
Off thaim that war on his party ;
That war sa fele, that thai durst fycht
With Thyrwall, and all the mycht
Off thaim that in the castell war.
He schupe him in the nycht to far
To Sandylandis : and thar ner by
He him enbuschyt priuely,
And send a few a trane to ma;
That sone in the mornyng gan ga,
And tuk catell, that wes the castell by,
And syne withdrew thaim hastely
Towart thaim that enbuschit war.
Than Thyrwall, for owtyn mar,
Gert arme his men, forowtyn baid ;
And ischyt with all the men he baid :
And followyt fast eftir the cry.
He wes armyt at poynt clenly,
Owtane (that) his hede wes bar.
Than, with the men that with him war.
The catell folowit he gud speid,
Rycht as a man that had na dreid,
Till that he gat off thaim a sycht.
Than prekyt thai with all thar mycht,
Folowand thaim owt off aray ;
And thai sped thaim fleand, quhill thai
Per by thair buschement war past:
And Thyrwall ay chassyt fast.
And than thai that enbuschyt war
Ischyt till him, bath les and mar,
And rayssyt sudanly the cry.
And thai that saw sa sudanly
That folk come egyrly prikand
Rycht betuix thaim and thair warand,
Thai war in to full gret effray.
And, for thai war owt off aray,
Sum off thaim fled, and sum abad.
And Dowglas, that thar with him had
A gret mengye, full egrely
Assaylyt, and scalyt thaim hastyly :
And in schort tyme ourraid thaim swa,
That weile nane eschapyt thaim fra.
Thyrwall, that wes thair capitane,
Wes thar in the bargane slane :
And off his men the mast party.
The lave fled full effraytly.
Hook V. v 10—60
THE END
GLOSSARY
FOR
SIR WALTER SCOTT'S
NOVELS AND ROMANCES.
GLOSSARY.
A.
A', all.
Aa, aw, awe.
Ableeze, blazing.
Aboon, abune, above.
Abulyiements, habiliments; accou¬
trements.
Aefauld, simple.
Aff, off.
Aff-hands, hands off.
Afore, before.
Al't, oft.
Aften, often.
Afterhend, afterwards.
Ah i nt, behind.
Agee, ajee, awry; off the right
line ; obliquely; wrong.
Aiblins, perhaps.
Ain, own.
Aines, aince, once.
Ainsells, own selves.
Air, ear, early.
Aim, iron.
Airts, points of the compass.
Airt, to direct.
Ails, oats; ait-meal, oat-meal.
Aiver, aver, a tvorlc-horse.
Ajee, awry.
Alane, alone.
A-low, a-fire ; in a flame.
Altoun, old town.
Amaist, almost.
Ambry, aumry, almery, close cup¬
board for keeping cold victuals,
bread, fc.
All, if.
Anes-errand, of set purpose : sole-
errand.
Anent, opposite; respecting.
Aneuch, enough.
Ante-nup, antenuptial fornication
between persons who are after¬
wards married to each other.
Archilowe (of unknown derivation),
a peace-offering.
Ark, meal-ark; a large chest for
holding meal.
Aries, earnest money.
Arriage and carriage, plough and
cart service.
Ass, ashes.
Assoilzie, assoilize, acquit.
Aucht, aught, to possess or belong
to. " Whae's aught it ?" to whom
does it belong 1
Aught, possession ; property. " In
ane's aught," in one's keeping.
Atweel, I wot well.
Auld, old.
Auld-farran, sagacious
Auld-warld, old-fashioned; antique
Auld-warld stories, ancient sto¬
ries.
Aver, work-horse.
Aweel, well.
Awes, owes.
Awmous, alms.
Awmry, v. ambry.
Awn, owing.
Awsome, awful: terrible
Ax, ask.
304
GLOSSARY.
B.
Ba, hand-ball.
Bab, bunch ; tassell.
Back, backet, coal-scuttle. Ass-
backet, as he-scuttle. Adj.
muckle-backit, broad-baclced.
Baff, blow ; bang; heavy thump.
Bayganet, bayonet.
Baik, beck ; curtsy ; reverence.
Bailie, alderman, or magistrate.
Bairns, children.
Baith, both.
Baittle, rich pasture.
grass grund, rich close-
cropped sheep pasture.
Ballant, ballad.
Baldrick, girdle.
Ban, curse.
Band, bond.
Banes, bones.
Bang, spring; abound.
Bannet, bonnet.
Bannock, flat round cake.
Bannock-fluke, turbot.
Bangster, a violent felloiv who car¬
ries every thing before him-
Bargaining, disputing ; battling.
Barken, encrust.
Barkit, tanned.
Barla fummil, barley, an exclama¬
tion for a truce by one who has
fallen down in wrestling or play,
" By our Lady upset! I am
down
Barley, barly (from parley), a cry
among boys at their violent games
for a truce.
Barm, yeast.
Barns-breaking, idle frolic.
Barrace, bounds; lists for com¬
batants.
Barrow-tram, shaft of a. wheel¬
barrow.
Bartizan (in fortification), battle¬
ment.
jBatts, botts.
Baudrons, puss ; a cat.
Bauks, uncultivated places between
ridges of land.
Bauld, bald, also bold.
Bawbee, halfpenny.
Bawbee rows, halfpenny rolls.
Bawson-faced, having a white oblong
spot on the face.
Baxter, baker.
Be, " let be," let alone ; not to
mention.
Beal, biel (Gael.), mouth, opening ;
also suppurate.
Bean, bien, bein, ivell to do; com¬
fortable and well-provided.
Bear, barley that has more than two
rows of grain in the ear.
Bedesman, one that prays for, or
to ; a poor pensioner.
Bedral, a beadle, also bed-rid.
Beflummed, palavered ; flattered.
Begrutten, exhausted with iveep-
ing.
Begunk, begoke, trick.
Beild, bield, shelter.
Bein, wealthy ; well-provided.
Belike, perhaps.
Belive, belyve, by and by ; speedily.
Bell-tlie-cat, to contend with, espe¬
cially of superior rank or power ;
to use strong measures regardless
of consequences.
Bell-wavering, ivandering.
Ben (be-in), the inner apartment.
" To bring far ben," to treat with
great respect and hospitality.
Bend-leather, thick sole-leather.
Bennison, blessing.
Bent, a kind of grass; metaphori¬
cally, the hill; the moor. " Ta'en
the bent," taken the field; run
aivay.
Bicker, wooden vessel made by a
cooper for holding liquor, brose,
.Sfc.
GLOSSARY.
Bide, stay ; endure ; reside. "Bide
a blink," stay a moment.
Biding, abiding; waiting; residing.
Bield, v. beild.
Bien, v. bein.
Big, build ; also great, large.
Bigging, building.
Biggit, built.
Biggonets, linen caps of the fashion
worn by the Beguine sisterhood.
Bike, byke, bink, wild-bees' nest.
Billy (the infantine pronunciation of
brither), brother.
Bind (in drinking), as much liquor
as one can carry under his band
or girdle. " I'm at my bind,"
I've got my full measure.
Bink, bench; bank ; acclivity.
Binn, bing, heap of unthr ashed corn.
Binna, be not.
Birkie, a child's game at cards;
also a lively young fellow.
Birling, drinking ; administering
liquor; also making a grumbling
noise like an old-fashioned spin¬
ning-wheel or hand-mill in mo¬
tion.
Birly-man, the petty officer of a
burgh of barony.
Birn, burden. " Skin and birn,"
full account of a sheep by bring¬
ing the skin with the tar-mark,
and the head with the brand on
the nose; the whole of any thing.
Birr, noise ; vehemence ; stimulate.
Birse, bristles. " Set up his birse,"
roused him to his mettle; put
him in a towering passion.
Bit (used as a diminutive), "Bit
" burn," small rivulet. " Bit las^-
sock," little girl.
Bit, small space ; spot. " Blithe bit,"
pleasant spot.
Bite, a bit. " Bite of bread," a
mouthful of bread.
Bittle, beetle, a wooden bat for beat¬
ing of linen.
Bittock, little bit; a short distance.
(Ock is used as a diminutive, as
in lassock for lass.)
Black-aviced, dark-complexioned.
Black-fishers, poachers who kill
salmon in close-time.
Blackit, blackened.
Black-mail, security money paid to
freebooters.
Black-nebs, democrats ; factious
discontented revilers.
Blasting, puffing and blowing ; also
boasting.
Blate, bashful; modest.
Bla.wart, blae-wort, blue-bottle,
blue-wort, centaurea. cyanus.
Blaw-in-my-lug, boast in mine ear;
flatterer; parasite.
Blawing in one's lug, flattering:
using circumlocution.
Blearing your ee, blinding you with
flattery.
Bleeze, blaze.
Blether, bladder.
Blethers, babbling ; foolish talk.
Blink, glance of the eye ; glimpse ; a
twinkling.
Blithe, glad; pleasant.
Blood-wite, compensation, or fine fot
bloodshed.
Bluid, blood.
Blunker, bungler; one that spoils
every thing he meddles with.
Boast, talking to intimidate.
Bob, dance up and down.
Bodach, old man ; bug-a-boo.
Bode, what is bidden ; offer.
Boddle, a copper coin, value the
sixth part of an English penny,
equal to two doits, or Scottish
pennies.
Bogilly, full of goblins.
Bogles, goblins ; bugbears ; scare¬
crows.
Bole, boal, a locker in the wall of a
cottage for keeping books, §'C.
"Window-bole," a window with
blinds of wood, with one small
pane of glass in the middle, ire-
stead of casement.
Bolt, arrow.
Bonnally, bonnaile, a parting cup-
with a friend, in earnest of wish
ing him a prosperous journey.
Bonnv-wawlies, toys, trinkets. W an-
396
GLOSSARY.
lie (« daisy) is commonly used
figuratively to express what is
beautiful.
Boot, buit, a balance of value in
barter. " Into the boot," given
into [instead of ] the boot.
Booth, shop.
Bordel, brothel.
Borrell-loons, low rustic rogues.
Borrowing-days, the three last days
of March, O. S.
" March borrowed frae Aprile
Three days, an' they were ill:
The first o' them was wind and weet,
The second o' them was snaw and
sleet,
The third o' them was sic a freeze,
That the birds' legs stacic to the
trees."
See Note, Heart ol' Mid-Lothian.
Boss, hollow.
Bonnet-laird, small proprietor of
land.
Bonnie, bonny, pretty ; beautiful;
also strong ; worthy ; approved.
Bothy, hut; hovel.
Bouking, bucking.
Boul o' a pint stoup, handle of a
two-quart pot.
Bountith, the bounty given in addi-
dition to stipulated wages.
Bourd, jeer, mock.
Bouroks, bourachs, confused heaps ;
miserable huts; also small en¬
closures.
Bourtree-bush, elder-bush.
Bow, boll, or dry measure, contain¬
ing the sixteenth part of a chalder.
Bowies, casks with the head taken
out; tubs; milk-pails.
Bowk, bulk; body.
Bracken, fern.
Brae, rising ground.
Braid, broad.
Brander, gridiron.
Brandered, grilled; broiled.
Brank-new, bran-new, a phrase
equivalent to " spick and span f
quite new.
Brash, transient fit of sickness.
Brattach, standard; literally cloth,
Braw, brave; fine.
Brawly, bravely ; finely.
Braws, braveries ; finery.
Breaskit, briskit, the breast.
Brecham, working-horse's collar.
Breckan, fern.
Breeks, breeches. " Breekless,"
breechless.
Brent brow, high forehead.
Brickie, brittle; ticklish.
Brig, bridge.
Brither, brother.
Broach, broche, spit.
Broach, breast-pin.
Brochan, gruel.
Breering,co?«iw(/ through the ground,
as young corn, &c.
Brock, badger (from its white or
spotted face).
Brockit-cow, white-faced cow.
Brog, a pointed instrument, such as
a shoemaker's awl.
Brogging, pricking with a sharp-
pointed instrument.
Brogues, shoes; in the Lowlands,
shoes of half-dressed leather.
Broken man, outllaw; bankrupt.
Broo, bree, broth ; juice ; also, opi¬
nion founded on bruit or report.
Brose, a kind of pottage, made by
pouring boiling water or broth on
meal, which is stirred while the
liquid is poured. The dish is
denominated from the nature of
the liquid, as " water-brose,"
" kail-brose."
Brose, brewis; stir-about.
Brose-time, br ewis-time ; supper-
time.
Brown Man of the Moors, a droich,
divarf, or subterranean elf.
Brownies, domestic goblins; the
" Robin Goodfellows" of Scotland.
Browst, breiving; as much as is
brewed at one time.
Bruckle, brickie; brittle ; ticklish
Bruick, brook, use ; wear; enjoy.
Bruilzie, broil; scuffle ; disturbance.
Brunstane, brimstone.
Brusten, bursted.
Buckie, shell of a sea-snail, or any
GLOSSARY.
397
spiral shell, of whatever size.
"De'il, or deevil's buckie, a per¬
verse refractory youngster ; a mis¬
chievous madcap that has an evil
twist in his character.
Buik, buke, hook.
Buirdly, strong ; athletic.
Buist, boost, the mark set upon
cattle by their owners.
Bumbazed, amazed ; confused; stu-
pified.
Bunker, bench. " Sand-bunker,"
sand bank; in cottages a seat
which also serves for a chest,
opening with a hinged lid.
Busk, dress.
Busking, dressing.
But-and-ben, be-out and be-in, or
the outer and inner side of the
partition-wall in a house consist-
ing of two apartments.
Buttock-mail, fine imposed on for¬
nication in lieu of sitting on the
stool of repentance.
Bye, " down bye," down yonder:
not far off.
By ordinar, more than ordinary.
By, past; besides; over and above.
Byganes, bygones, what is gone by
and past.
Byre, shipper ; cow-house.
Bytime, odd time ; interval of lei¬
sure ; now and then.
c.
Ca', drive. "Ca'-throw," disturbance;
prevention. "Ca' the shuttle,"
drive the shuttle.
Ca', call.
Cadger, carrier; huxter.
Cadgy, lively and frisky; wanton.
Caickling, cackling.
Cailliachs (Gael.), old women.
Caimed, kaimed, combed.
Caird, tinker.
Cairn, heap of loose stones piled as
a memorial of some individual or
occurrence.
Calf-ward, v. cauf-ward.
Callan, callant, young lad; a some¬
what irrisory use of the old term
gallant; a fine fellow.
Caller, cool, fresh. "Caller oysters,"
or " herrings," newly caught.
Cam, came.
Camstery, froward; perverse ; un¬
manageable.
Canna, cannot.
Cannily, skilfully; cautiously.
Canny, skilful; prudent; lucky; in
a superstitious sense, good-condi¬
tioned and safe to deal with;
trustworthy.
Cantle, the back part of the head ;
also a fragment broken off any
thing.
Cantrip, spell; incantation, charm.
Canty, lively and cheerful.
Capercailzie, the great cock of the
wood.
Cap, wooden vessel for holding food
or liquor.
Cappie, diminutive of cap.
Cappernoity, crabbed; peevish.
Capul, horse; in a more limited
sense work-horse.
Carfulfled, curfuffled, ruffled; rum
pled.
Carle, churl; gruff old man.
Carline, carling, the feminine of
carle.
Carriage, horse-and-cart, service.
Carried, in nubibus; having the
mind fixed upon something dif¬
ferent from the business on hand;
having the ivits gone " a-ivool-
gathering
Carritch, carritches, catechism.
Carvy, earraway.
Cast, got over ; recovered from.
Cast, lot: fate.
398
GLOSSARY.
Cast out, fall out; quarrel.
Cast up, appear; also, throw in one^s
teeth ; reproach with.
Cateran, Icearn; Highland and Irish
irregular soldier ; free-booter.
Cauf-ward, calf-ward, place where
calves are kept in the field.
Cauff, chaff.
Cauld, cold.
Cauldrife, chilly; susceptible of cold.
Caup, cap, cup; ivooden bowl: also
the shell of a snail, as snail-cap.
Causey, causeway, calsay, raised
and paved street. " To crown
the causey," to keep the middle or
higher part of the street in de¬
fiance of all to be met.
Cavey, hen-coop ; also a partan, or
common sea-crab.
Certie, " mycertie," my faith; in
good troth.
Chack, snack; luncheon.
Chafts, jaws.
Chalder (dry measure), sixteen bolls.
Chancy, lucky.
Chap, customer; fellow; also a
stroke.
Chappit, struck; also pounded;
mashed.
Chaw, chew.
Cheap o't, well deserving of it; de¬
serving worse.
Cheese-fat, cheese dish; cheese
form.
Chenzie, chain.
Chields, chiels, young fellows.
Chimley neuk, chimney corner.
Choast, (ch as k in Tweeddale,)
hoast, severe cough.
Chop, shop.
Chowl, jowl.
Chuckies, barn-door fowls.
Chuckie-stanes, pebble-stones such
as children play at chuck-farthing
with.
Clachan, a small village.
Clack-geese, claick-geese, barnacle
geese.
Clagged, claggit, clogged.
Clairshach, clairsho, harp.
Claise, clase, clothes.
Claiths, clothes.
Clamyhewit, stroke.
Clanjamfrie, mob; tag-rag-and-bob-
tail.
Clap, a stroke; also moment.
Clapper, tongue ; tongue of a bell.
" Ringing his clapper," using his
tongue freely.
Clarty, clorty, unclean; very dirty.
Clash, tittle-tattle; scandal; idle
talk.
Clat, claut, rake together; an in¬
strument for raking together mire,
weeds, §fc.
Clatter, tattle.
Clatter-traps, rattle traps, a lu¬
dicrous name for tools and ac¬
coutrements.
Claught, clutched; snatched vio¬
lently.
Claut, v. clat.
Clavering, talking idly and fool¬
ishly.
Clavers, idle talk.
Claw, scratch; scrape. " Claw up
their mittins," give them the fi¬
nishing stroke. " Claw favour,"
curry favour.
Cleck, collect; bring together, hatch.
" decking time," hatching time.
Cleed, clothe.
Cleek, cleick, hook.
Cleekit, caught as ivith a hook.
" Cleekit in the cunzie," hooked
in the loin.
Cleugh, cliff; also ravine.
Clink, smart stroke ; also a jingling
sound; metaph. money.
Clinket, clanket; struck.
Clipping time, the nick of time. "To
come in clipping time," to come
as opportunely as he who visits
a farmer at sheep-shearing time
when there is alivays mirth and
good cheer.
Clocking hen, clucking, hatching,
breeding hen.
Clodded, threw clods; threw with
violence.
Clomb, climbed.
Cloot, cloove, divided hoof; cloven
GLOSSARY.
31)9
hoof. " Cloot and cloot," hoof
and hoof, i. e. every hoof.
Clour, bump upon the head from a
blow ; also indentation in a brass
or pewter vessel; defacement; in¬
equality of surface produced by
a blow.
Cloured, adj. of clour.
Clute, v. cloot.
Coal-heugh, place where coals are
hewed or dug.
Coble, small fishing-boat upon a
river.
Cock bree, cock broo, cock broth.
Cocky-leeky, cock-a-leekie, leek soup
in which a cock has been boiled.
Cockernonie, the gathering of a
young ivoman's hair under the
snood or fillet.
Cock-laird, a land proprietor who
cidtivates his own estate.
Cockle-brained, chuckle-headed;
foolish.
Cock-padle, lump-fish.
Cod, pilloiv ; also pod.
Codling, an apple so called. " Car¬
lisle codlings" are in great esteem.
Cogue, cogie, a round wooden vessel
made by a cooper, for holding
milk, brose, liquor, Q'c.
Collie, cur, dog.
Collie-shangy, quarrel; confused
uproar like that produced when
collies fall a-worrying one another
about one of their own kind who
has got a shangie or shagan, i. e.
a canister, cj r. tied to his tail.
Coney, rabbit.
Cookie, a kind of small sweet-bread
for eating at tea.
Corbie, raven. "Corbie messenger,"
one that is long upon his errand,
or who, like the raven sent from
the Ark, returns not again.
Coost, cast.
Coronach, dirge.
Corri (in the Highlands), a hollow
recess in a, mountain open only
on one side.
Cottars, cottagers.
Cosy, Cozie, warm and comfortable.
Couldna', could not.
Coup, turn over. "Coup the crans,"
go to wreck, like a pot on the
fire, when the cran upon which
it stood is upset.
Coup, barter.
Couping,buying,particularly horses:
also trucking, or bartering.
Cove, cave.
Cowt, colt.
Cozie, cosie, warm and comfortable.
Crack, boast.
Crack, new; showy.
Crack-hemp, crack-rope; gallows-
apple.
Cracks, hearty conversation.
Craemes, krames, warehouses where
goods are crammed or packed ;
range of booths for the sale of
goods.
Craft, croft.
Craig, crag, rock; neck; throat.
Craigsman, one who is dexterous in
climbing rocks.
Crap, crop, produce of the ground.
Crap, the top of any thing; the
craw of a fowl, used ludicrously
for a man's stomach.
Crappit heads, puddings made in the
heads of haddocks.
Creach, Highland foray; plunder¬
ing incursion.
Creel, a basket, or pannier. "To
be in a creel," or " To have one's
wits in a creel," to have one's wits
jumbled into confusion.
Creelfu', basketful.
Creish, creesh, grease.
Creishing, greasing.
Crewels, scrofula.
Crombie, crummy, a crooked-horned
cow.
Crook, pot-hook.
Crook, winding.
Crouse, brisk ; fidl of heart; cou¬
rageous-like.
Crowdy, meal and milk mixed in a
cold state ; a kind of pottage.
Crown, of the causeway, middle of
the street.
Cruppin, crept.
400
GLOSSARY.
Cud, cudgel.
Cuddie, ass.
Cuitikins,cutikings,</Me£n?.s, gaiters.
Cuitle, diddle.
Cuittle (Eng. cuddle, with a dif¬
ferent shade of meaning), tickle.
"Cuittle favour," curry favour.
Cullion, (Gael.) puppy ; base spung-
ing dog ; base felloiv, poltroon.
Cummer, midwife; gossip.
Curch (Gael, and Fr.), kerchief; a.
woman's covering for the head;
inner linen cap, sometimes worn
without the (v.) mutch.
Curfuffle, ruffle ; rumple ; put in a,
disordered and tumbled state.
Curliewurlies, fantastical circular
ornaments.
Curmurring, grumbling.
Curn, a quantity; an indefinite
number.
Curney, round; granulated.
Curple, curpin, crupper.
Currach, a corackle, or small skiff;
boat of wicker-worlc, covered with
hides.
Cusser, cuisser, stallion.
Cushat, wood-pigeon.
Cut-lugged, crop-eared.
Cutty (cut), slut; tvorthless girl; a
loose ivoman.
Cutty, a spoon ; tobacco-pipe, cut or
broken short. " Cutty spoon," a
short horn spoon. " Cutty-stool,"
short-legged stool.
D-.
Dab, daub, to peck as birds do.
Dabs, small bits, or specks stuck
upon any thing.
Dacker, search, as for stolen or
smuggled goods.
Daft, mad; frolicsome.
Daffin, thoughtless gaiety ; foolish
playfidness ; foolery.
Daidling, loitering ; sauntering ;
getting on in a lazy, careless way.
Daiker, to toil; as in job-work.
Daikering, v. dacker.
Dais, v. deas.
Dalt, foster child.
Dammer, miner.
Dammer, stun, and confusion by
striking on the head.
Danders, cinders; refuse of a smith's
fire.
Dandering, sauntering ; roaming
idly from place to place.
Dandilly, spoiled by too much in¬
dulgence.
Dang, dung, struck; subdued, knocked
over.
Darg, dargue, day's work.
Darn, dern, conceal.
Daur, daured, dare; dared.
Day, " the day," to-day.
Dead-thraw, the death throws; last
agonies. When applied to an
inanimate object, it means neither
dead nor alive, neither hot nor
cold.
Deas, dais, dees, table, great hall
table ; a peiv in the church (also
a turf seat erected at the doors
of cottages, but not used by
the Author of Waverley in this
setise).
Deasil, motion contrary to that of
the sun; a Highland super stitious
custom, implying some preterna¬
tural virtue.
Death-ruckle, death-rattle in the
throat of a dying per son.
Deave, deafen.
Dee, die.
Deeing, dying; also doing.
Deevil's buckie, imp of Satan; limb
of the Devil.
Deil, devil.
Deil's dozen, thirteen.
Deil gaed o'er Jock Wabster, every
GLOSSARY.
401
thing ivent topsy-turvy ; there was
the devil to pay.
Deil may care, the devil may care ;
I don't care.
Deil's snuff-box, the common puff-
ball.
Delieret, delirious.
Deliver, active ; free in motion.
Deliverly, actively; alertly.
Delve, v. (level.
Demented, insane.
Denty, dainty; nice.
Dentier, daintier; more nice and
delicate.
Dern, concealed ; secret; hidden.
Denred, concealed.
Devel, delve, very hard blow.
Didna, did not.
Dike, dyke, stone-wall fence.
Ding, strike; beat; subdue.
Dink, neat; trim; tidy; also con¬
temptuous ; scornful of others.
Dinmonts, wethers between one and
two years old, or that have not
yet been tivice shorn.
Dinna, do not.
Dinnle, tingle; thrill.
Dirl, thrill.
Dirdum, uproar ; tumult; evil ;
chance ; penance.
Discreet, civil.
Discretion, civility.
Disjasked faded; decayed; worn out.
Disjune, dejune, breakfast.
Dits, stops up.
Div, do.
Divot, thin sod for thatching.
Doch-an-dorrach, (Gael.) stirrup-
cup ; parting cup.
Doddie, cow without horns.
Doiled, dyled, dazed; stupid; doting.
Doited, turned to dotage; stupid;
confused.
Dole, " dead dole," that which was
dealt out to the poor at the fu¬
nerals of the rich.
Donnert, donnard, grossly stupid;
stunned. " Auld donnert," in
dotage.
Doo, dove.
Dook, duck; immerse under water :
bathe.
Dooket, doucat, dove-cot; pigeon -
house.
Dookit, v. doukit.
Dooms, usedintensitively, as "dooms
bad," very bad, (mince of d d
bad.)
Doon, doivn.
Dcor-stane, threshold.
Dorlach, v. dourlach.
Douce, quiet; sober; sedate.
Dought, could; was able.
Doukit, ducked.
Doup, bottom; butt-end.
Dour, hard and impenetrable in
body or mind.
Dourlacli, (Gael.) bundle; knapsack;
literally satchel of arrows.
Dover, neither asleep nor awake;
temporary privation of con¬
sciousness.
Dovering, walking or riding half
asleep as if from the effect of
liquor; besotted.
Dow (pronounced as in how), are
able. Dowed, was able.
Dow (pronounced as in ivho), dove;
a term of endearment.
Dow-cote, pigeon-house.
Dowed, faded; vapid; decayed.
Dowf, hollow, dull.
Dowie, dolly, dull; melancholy; in
bad health ; in bad tune.
. Downa, cannot ; do not.
Down bye, down the way.
Draff-poke, bag of grains.
Draig, draick, dreck, dreg; dregs ;
a ivord which frequently makes
part of the name of a slovenly,
low-lying place. In this manner
it is used in Mospha-draig.
Drammock, a thick raiv mixture of
meal and water.
Drap, drop. Drappie, little drop.
Drappit egg, poached egg.
Drave, drove.
Dree, suffer; endure; to dread the
worst that may happen.
Dreeling, drilling.
'26
402
GLOSSARY.
Dreigh, tardy; slow ; tiresome.
Dridder, dreadour, dread, fear.
Drigie, dredgie, dirgie, funeral-
company potation.
Droghling, coghling, wheezing and
blowing.
Droukit, drenched.
Droutliy, droughty, thirsty.
Drow, drizzle ; mizzling rain.
Drudging-box, flour-box for basting
in cookery.
Dragsters, druggists.
Dry multure, astricted mill-dues
paid to one mill for grain that is
ground at another.
Duddy, ragged.
Duds, rags; tatters; clothes.
Dule, dole, sorrow ; mourning
Dulse, dulce, sea-celery.
Dung ower, knocked over.
Dunniewassal (Gael., from duine, a
man,—wasal, well born), a High¬
land gentleman, generally the.
cadet of a family of rank, and
who received his title from the
land he occupied, though held at
will of his chieftain.
Dunshin, jogging smartly with the
elbow.
Dunt, knock, stroke, or blow, that
produces a din or sound; also a
good sizeable portion of any thing
Dwam, dwaim, dwaum, qualm;
sivoon.
Dwining, decaying : declining in
health.
Dyester, dyer.
Dyke, stone wall fence.
Dyvour, debtor who cannot pay
E.
Eannaraich (Gael.), strong soup.
The pot is filled with beef of
mutton (not any particular part),
as much water is put in as will
cover the meat, which is kept
simmering until it is fully done,
and when it is taken out, the En-
narich is what an English cook
would call double stock.
Ear, early.
Eard, earth.
Earded, put in the earth : interred.
Earn, eagle.
Easel, eastivard.
Ee, eye.
Een, eyes.
E'en, even. " E'en sae," even so.
E'en, evening.
Effeir of war, warlike guise.
Eident, ay-doing; diligent; careful:
attentive.
Eik, eke, addition.
Eliding,/we/.
Eithly, easily.
Elshin, awl.
Eme, uncle.
Endlong, in uninterrupted suece.s
sion ; even on; at full length.
Eneugh,enough.
Enow, just now.
Equal-aquals, makes all odds eve/t.
Errand. " For ance (ains) errand,"
for that purpose alone.
Estreen, yestreen, yesterday, more
properly last night.
Etter-cap, adder-cap, attercope, a
spider ; a virulent atribilious
person.
Ettle, aim ; intend.
Evening, comparing.
Evidents, evidences.
Ewest, nearest; contiguous.
Ewhow ! eh wow ! oh dear /
Ewking, itching.
Exies, hysterics; ecstasies.
GLOSSARY.
403
F.
Fa', faw, fall; befall.
Fa, get. " We maunna fa that,"
we must not hope to get that.
Fa'en, fallen.
Fa'ard, favoured. "Ill fa'ard," ill
favoured.
Fae, foe.
Fae, frae, from.
Fae, faie, whose; who.
Faem, foam.
Faither, father.
Faitour, rascal; mean fellow■
Fal-lalls,/bo&A ornaments in dress.
Fallow, fellow.
Falset, falsehood.
Fan, whan, when.
Fard, colour.
Fard, faurd, v. fa'ard.
Farl, farle, now the fourth pari of
a large cake, originally used for
corn or bread.
Fash, fasherie, trouble.
Fashing, taking or giving trouble.
Fashious, troublesome.
Fastern's e'en, Fastern e'en, Shrove
Tuesday.
Fat, what.
Fauld ,fold.
Faund, found.
Faur'd, favoured. " Weel faur'd,"
well favoured; good-looking.
Fause, false.
Faut, fault; default; want.
Feal, sod.
Feal-dyke, wall of sods for an en¬
closure.
Feal, faithful; loyal.
Feared, affected with fear.
Fear, feer, entire.
Fearfu', terrible.
Feck, strength and substance; part
of a thing. "Best feck," better
part. " Maist feck," greatest
part.
Feckless,powerless:pithless feeble;
deficient in some quality. "Feck¬
less body," having barely the
remains of a man.
Fee, wages.
Feel, jfool.
Fell, skin; also rocky hill.
Fell, strong and fiercy. " Fell
chield," fiery felloiv; terrible fel¬
low. " Fell airts," hellish arts.
Fell, befall.
Fend, defend; keep out bad weather :
provide against want.
Fended, provided; made shift.
Fending, providing ; provision.
Fendy, clever in providing.
Ferlie, ivonder; rarity. "To ferlie,"
to wonder.
Fickle, made tofiks orfidge; puzzle;
difficult.
Fie, fey, acting unaccountably, as
persons in health and soon to die
are supposed to do, in some last
and extraordinary effort.
Fient a heat, deuce a thing; deuce
a bit; (from fiend), devil a bit.
Fiking, fyking, fidgeting; fiddlefad¬
dling.
Files, defiles; spoils.
Finner, a small whale.
Fireflaught, flash of lightning.
Firlot, fourth part of a boll of
corn.
Fissell, bustle.
Fissenless, fizzenless, fusionless,
pithless; weak.
Fit, foot; step.
Fite, white.
Flaming, basting.
Flash, dash out rashly.
Flaughtering, light shining fitfully ,
flickering.
Flaunes, pancakes.
Flaw, gust; blast.
Fleech, flatter ; wheedle.
Flecching flattering.
401
GLOSSARY.
Fiees, flies.
Fleg, fright.
Flerait, frightened.
FLemet, flamit, banished; expelled.
Fley, frighten.
Flichtering, fluttering.
Fiiglit, arrow.
Fling, kick; throw out the legs like
a horse.
Flisking, whisking up and down.
Flisk-ma-hoys ,jill-flirts; giddy fly -
flap-girls.
Flit, remove ; depart.
Flory, vain.
Flow-moss, watery moss: morass.
Fluff, flash.
Fluff-gibs, squibs.
Fluffed i' the pan, burned prime
without firing the barrel of the
gun or pistol.
Flunkie, footman.
Flyte, flite, scold.
Folk free and sacless (Ivanhoe), a
lawful freeman.
Follies, foolish fashions in dress.
Forbears, forefathers; ancestors.
Forbye, besides; over and above.
Fore, " to the fore," remaining still
in existence; also in front.
Foretauld, foretold.
Forfairn, exhausted by fatigue or
decay; sorely worn out.
Forfaulted, forfeited.
Forfoughten, exhausted with fight¬
ing ; fatigued and breathless.
Forgathered, fell in with.
Forgi e, forgive.
Forpet, fourth part of a peck.
Forrit, forward.
Forspeaks, affects with the curse of
an evil tongue, which brings ill
luck upon what or whomsoever it
praises.
Fortalice, a keep ; fortress ; castle.
Fouats, house-leeks.
Foumart, foulmart, pole-cat.
Yonv-nookeA, four-cornered.
Fou, fow,full; drunk; also a pitch¬
fork.
Foy, departing feast.
Fozy, soft and spongy.
Frack, ready ; eager; forward.
Fractious, peevish.
Frae, from.
Frampul, unruly; forward; evil-
conditioned.
Freits, treats, superstitious obser¬
vances.
Frem,fremmit,fraim,frem'd, strange
not related.
Fristed, put off for a time.
Fu\ full.
Fuff, puff; ivhiff.
Fule, fool.
Fusionless, v. fissenless.
Funk, funking, applied to a horse
kicking up the rear without dash¬
ing out the heels.
Funk, funck, " In a funk," in a
foolish perplexity.
Fyke, bustle; trouble ; restlesstiess;
much the same as funk.
G.
Gaberlunzie, a mendicant; a poor
guest ivho cannot pay for his en¬
tertainment.
Gad, goad; bar of iron.
Gae, go.
Gae down, drinking about.
Gaed, went.
Gae wa', go away , hare done : tic
more of that.
Gaen, going.
Gaisling, gosling.
Gait, goat.
Gaitt, gett, what is begotten; brat.
Gane, gone.
Gang, go.
Ganging, going.
Gangrel, a child beginning to walk:
also a vagrant.
GLOSSARY.
405
Gar, garr, make; compel.
Gardyloo, (Fr.) gardez Peau.
Garr'd, made; compelled; caused.
Gascromh (Gael, cas crom), a long
narrow spade, with a projecting
foot-piece, used in the Highlands
for digging in stony ground where
no other instrument can be intro¬
duced.
Gash, prattle ; chatter; gossip.
Gash, sharp; shrewd.
Gate, way: manner.
Gathering-peat, a fiery peat, which
was sent round by the Borderers
to alarm the country in time of
danger, as the fiery cross was by
the Highlanders.
Gathering peat, gathering coal,
either of them, put into the fire at
night, with the ashes gathered
around it, to preserve ignition
for the morning.
Gaun, going.
Gaunt, yawn.
Gauntrees, goan-trees, trams, or
wooden frames on which casks in
a cellar are placed.
Gauger, exciseman.
Gawsie, plump ; jolly ; pertly.
Gay, pretty. " Gay gude," pretty
good. " Gay well," pretty tvell.
Gear, goods ; dress; equipment.
Gecked, tossed the head; jeered.
Geizened, geissend, gushing ; leaky.
Gelt, hrat.
Gentles, gentlefolks.
Gentrice, gentility; good descent.
Genty, neat; trim; elegantly formed.
Gey sharp, pretty sharp. " Gey
gude," pretty good.
Ghaist, ghost.
Gie, give.
Gied, gave.
Gien, given.
Giff gaff, in old English, ka me, ka
thee, i. e. give and take; tit for
tat; mutual service to one an¬
other.
Gillie, man servant in the High¬
lands.
Gillie white-foot, gillie wet-fool, o
running footman, who had to
carry his master over brooks and
watery places in travelling.
Gills, gullies.
Gillravaging, plundering.
Gdpy, frolicksome young person.
Gimmer, tivo-year-old ewe.
Gin, gifan, if; suppose.
Gingle, gingling, jingle or clink;
jingling.
Gird, hoop.
Girdle, an iron plate for firing
cakes on.
Girn, grin like an ill-natured dog.
Girning, grinning.
Girnel, meal-chest.
Girth, gird, hoop.
Girths, " slip the girths," tumble
down like a pack-horse's burden,
ivhen the girth gives way.
Glaiks, deception ; delusion. " Fling
the glaiks in folk's een," metaph.
throw dust in people's eyes."Give
the glaiks," befool, and then leave
in the lurch.
Glaikit, glaik, light-headed; idle;
foolish.
Glamour, magical deception of sight.
Gled, kite.
Gledging, looking slyly at one.
Gleed, flame.
Gleed, gleid, gleyed, one-eyed;
squinting; also oblique; awry.
Gaed a' gleed," went all wrong.
Gleeing, squinting.
Gleg, sharp ; on the alert.
Gley, a-gley, on one side; asquint.
Gliff, glimpse; short time; also a
fright.
Glisk, glimpse.
Gloaming, twilight.
Glowr, glowering, stare, staring.
Glunch,frown; gloom.
Gomeril, fool; blockhead.
Gossipred, gossiprie, familiarity.
intimacy; sponsorship.
Goustie, waste; desolate; what is
accounted ghostly.
Gouth, drop.
Gowan, daisy.
Gowk, cuckoo; foot.
4C6
GLOSSARY.
Gowling, howling ; noisy; scolding.
Gowpen, gowpin, as much as loth
hands held together, with the
palms upward, and contracted in
a circular form, can contain.
Graddan, meal ground on the quern,
or hand-mill.
Graff, greaf, grave.
Graip, dunk-fork.
Graith, harness.
Gramashes, gaiters reaching to the
knee.
Gran, grand; (Swedish, grann,)
fine.
Grane, groan.
Graning, groaning.
Grat, cried ; wept.
Gree, agree; also fame ; reputation.
Greed, greediness.
Greeshoch, peat fire piled on the
hearth.
Greet, greeting, weep, weeping.
Grew, shudder.
Grewsome, horrible.
Grice, sucking pig.
Griddle, v. Girdle.
Grieve, overseer.
Grilse, gilse, gray ; a young salmon.
Grip, gripe.
Grippie for grippie, gripe for gripe;
fair play in wrestling.
Grippit, laid hold of.
Grippie, griping : greedy; avari¬
cious.
Grit, great.
Grossart, grosert, gooseberry.
Grue, shudder.
Grumach, ill-favoured.
Grand, ground, bottom.
Gude, good.
Gude-dame, grandmother,
Glide-man, husband.
Gude-sire, grandfather.
Gude-sister, sister-in-law.
Guestened, guested; been the guest
of-
Guffaw, gaffaw, loud burst of laugh¬
ter.
Guided, used; taken care of; treated.
Guisards, gysarts, disguised persons;
mummers, who volunteer vocal
music for money about the time
of Christmas and New-Year's
day.
Gully, large knife.
Guse, goose.
Gusing-iron, a laundress's smooth¬
ing-iron.
Gutter-bloods, canaille.
Gy, rope.
Gyre-carling, hag: weird-sister;
ogress.
Gyte, crazy; ecstatic; senselessly
extravagant; delirious.
H.
Ha', hall.
Haaf, sea. (Orkney.)
Hack, heck, rack in a stable.
Hacket, v. Howkit.
Had, hold.
Hadden, holden.
Haddows, haddies, haddocks.
Ha'e, have.
Haet, thing.
Haflits, half-heads ; the sides of the
head; the temples.
Hafflin, (half-long,) half; half-long.
Ilalft, dwelling; custody.
Halfted, domiciled.
Hag, a year's cutting of oak.
Hagg, brushivood.
Haggs, pits and sloughs.
Haggies, haggis, the pluck, etc. of a.
sheep, minced with suet, onions,
etc. boiled in its stomach; dish
consecrated by Burns as
" Chieftain of the pudding race."
Haill, hale, whole. " Hail o' my
ain," all my oivn. " Hale and
leer," ivhole and entire.
Hallan, partition between the door
of a cottage and the fire-place.
Hallanshaker, fellow who must lake
GLOSSARY.
407
his place behind-backs at the
kalian ; sturdy beggarly scamp.
Hallions, rogues; worthless fellows.
liaise, hause, throat; neck.
Halse, hailse, hail; salute; embrace.
Haly, holy. "Haly be his cast,"
happy be his fate.
Hame, home.
Hamely, homely; familiar.
Hamshackle, to tie the head of a
horse or cow to one of its forelegs.
Hand-waled, chosen ; picked out
with the hand.
Hane, hain, spare; not give away.
Hantle, great many; great deal.
Hank, rope; coil.
Hap, hop.
Hap, cover; cover warmly.
Happer, hopper of a mill.
Ilappit,happed, hopped; also covered
for warmth or security.
llapshackle (used in the south of
Scotland for hamshackle), to tie
the forefeet of a horse together at
the posteriors. Side-langle, is to
tie the fore and hind foot of one
side together.
Harle, drag; trail along the ground.
" Harle an old man's pow," scratch
an old man's head.
Harns, brains. " Ham-pan," brain¬
pan.
Harry, to plunder.
Harrying, plundering.
Harst, harvest.
Hash, a clumsy sloven.
Hassock, any thing thick, bushy,
and ill arranged.
Hassock, haslock {from halse-lock),
throat lock, or more bushy portion
of the fleece of sheep, when they
were in a more natural and less
improved condition.
Hasna, has not.
Hat, " giving one a hat," taking off
the hat in his presence.
Hatted, or hattit-kit, a mixture of
milk ivarm from the cow, and
buttermilk.
Maud, hold.
Handing, support; dependence.
Haulds, holds ; places of resort.
Hause, throat; v. Halse.
Havered, talked foolishly, or without
method.
Havers, liaivers, idle talk.
Ilavrels, haivrels, half-witted per¬
sons.
Havings, behaviour; manners.
Hawkit, white-faced, applied to
cattle.
Heart-scald, heart-scaud, heart¬
burn; metaph. regret; remorse.
Heartsome, cheerful.
Heather, heath. " Heather cow,"
stalk of heath.
Heather-blutters, cock-snipes ; from
their cry in alternate flights and
descents in the breeding season.
Heck and manger, rack and manger.
" Living at heck and manger,"
applied to one who has got into
quarters where every thing is
comfortable and plenteous..
Heckled, hackled.
Heeze, hoist; raise up.
Hellicat, half-witted.
Hempie, rogue; gallows-apple ; one
for whom hemp grows." Its most
common use is in a jocular ivay,
to giddy young people of either
sex.
Hen-cavey, hen-coop.
Herded, kept sheep.
Herds, keepers of cattle or sheep.
Herezeld, an acknowledgment of
vassalage.
Hersliip, plunder.
Herse, hoarse.
Ilesp, hank of yarn.
Het, hot.
Heugh, precipitous acclivity ; also
hollow dell.
Heugh-head, head of the cliff; also
head of the glen between two cliffs.
Ilickery-pickery is clown's Greek
for hicra-picra.
Hie, go in haste.
Hinderlands, latter ends; backsides.
Hinderlans, back parts.
Hinny, honey. " My hinny," my
darling.
GLOSSARY.
408
II irdie-girdie, topsy-iurvy; in reck
less confusion.
Hirple, walk lamely; halt.
Hirsel, move forward with a rustling
noise along a. rough surface ; move
sideways in a sitting or lying
posture, upon the ground or other¬
wise t by means of the hands
only.
Hizzie, hussy.
Hoaste, v. choast.
Hobbilshow, confused kickup : up¬
roar.
Hoddle, waddle.
Holm, flat ground along the side of
a river. Used in the North for
island.
1 Ioodie-craws, hooded-croivs.
Hool, huil, hull; covering; slough;
pea or bean-hull.
Hooly and fairly, fair and softly.
Horse-cowper, horse-dealer.
Hotch, hitch.
I louts, tuts.
Howe, hollow; also hoe.
Houff, chief place of resort.
Howkit, dug out.
Howm, v. holm.
Hoying, hollowing to; setting on a
dog.
Jackman, a man that wears a short
mf\\jack or jacket.
Jagg, prick, as a pin or thorn.
.Tagger, pedlar.
Jaloose, v. jealous.
Jaud, jadd, jade ; mare.
Jaugs, pedlars' wallets.
Jaw, wave ; also petulant loquacity;
coarse raillery.
Jaw-hole, sink.
Jawing, undulating ; rolling water ;
also, loquacious talking.
Jealous, pronounced, jaloose, sus¬
pect; guess.
Jee, move.
Jeedging, judging.
Humdudgeon, needless noise ; much
ado about nothing.
Humle, humble, without horns.
Humlock-know, hemlock-knoll.
Hurcheon, urchin; hedgehog.
Houdie, midwife.
Hound, hunt; set a dog after any
thing ; ferret out ; in modern
common parlance often contemp¬
tuously applied to individuals,
such as " a sly hound," " a low
hound," a selfish, greedy, ra¬
pacious, quirking felloiv, who will
alike employ fair or foul means
for the attainment of his purpose.
Ilousewife'skep, hussieskep, house¬
wifery.
Hout fie, hout awa! (interj.) psha!
nonsense !
Hurdies, buttocks.
Hure, whore.
Hurley-hackets, small troughs or
sledges in which people used
formerly to slide doivn an inclined
plane on the side of a hill. Hurly-
hackit is still a child1 s play.
Hurley-house, literally last house;
as the house now stands, or as it
was last built.
Huz, us.
J.
Jesticoat, justicoat, juste au. corps;
ivaistcoat with sleeves.
Jimp, slim ; short.
Jimply, barely ; scarcely ; hardly.
Jink, a quick elusory turn.
Jinketing about, gadding about.
Jirbling, pouring out.
Ilk, ilka, each. "Of that ilk," of
the. same, as " Knockwinnock of
that ilk," Knockwinnock of Knock¬
winnock.
Ilka-days, every days; week days.
Ill, bad; difficult ; evil.
I'll-far'd, evil-favoured ; ugly.
Ill-set, spiteful; ill-natured.
Ill-sorted,\ill-suited; ill-managed-
GLOSSARY.
409
Ingans, onions.
Ingle, fire. " Ingle-side," fire-side.
" Ingle-nook," corner by the fire.
lngeer, glean corn, &c.
In ower and out ower,positively and
violently.
In-put, contribution.
Jocteleg, clasp-knife.
.Toes, sweethearts.
Jougs, pillory.
Jowing, the swinging noise of a
large bell.
Jowk, jouk, stoop down.
Jowkery-packery, sly juggling tricks.
I'se, I shall.
Justified, made the victim of justice;
hanged.
K.
Kail, coleivort ; coleioort soup.
" Kail through the reek," a good
rating ; a good scolding.
Kail-blade, coleivort leaf.
Kail-worm, caterpillar.
Kail-yard, cabbage-garden.
Kaim, a Danish fortified station.
Kame, comb.
Kain, kane, cane, duty paid by a
tenant to his landlord in eggs,
fowls, &c.
Keb, to cast lamb.
Kebback, kehbock,kebbuck,® cheese.
Keb-ewe, an eive that has lost her
lamb.
Kebbie, cudgel; club ; rough ivaIk¬
ing stick.
Keek, peep.
Keeking-glass, looking-glass.
Keekit, peeped.
Keel, ruddle. , red chalk, soft stone
for marking sheep.
Keelyvine (keelyvein), pen; pencil
of black or red lead.
Kelty, fine of a bumper. " Take
kelties mends," not drink fair
cup-out in order to be fined in
a bumper.
Kemping, striving for victory, as
reapers on a harvest field, &c.
Kemple, forty wisps or windlings
(about 8 lbs. each) of straw.
Ken, know.
Kend, known.
Kennin', Kenning, knowing; also
, small portion ; a little.
Kenspeckle, gatsing-stock.
Kent, cudgel; rough walking stick-.
Kerne, freebooter.
Kill-logic, kiln fireplace.
Kilt, the philabeg or short petticoat
of a Highlander. " To kilt," to
tuck up or truss up.
Kimmer, cummer, gossip; idle gos-
sipping girl.
Kind gallow;s. The gallows at
Crieff was so called, probably be¬
cause it was jocularly said that
the Highlanders, when passing it,
paid great respect to it, because
it had assisted at the last mo¬
ments of so many of their friends
and relations, and was likely so
to do for themselves.
Kinrick, kingdom.
Kintray, country.
Kippage, violent passion; disorder ;
confusion.
Kipper, salmon salted and smoke
dried; also in the state of spawn¬
ing.
Kirk, church.
Kirn, churn.
Kirsten, kirsen, christen.
Kirstening, christening.
Kirtle, gown ; mantle, or petticoat.
Kist, chest; trunk; coffin.
Kitchen, any thing eaten ivilh bread,
such as butter, cheese, jfc. to give
it a relish. " Hunger is gude
kitchen," hunger is good sauce.
"Bread to bread is nae kitchen,"
•27
410
GLOSSARY.
it forms no enjoyment where, in¬
dividuals only of one sex associate.
Kitchen-fee, drippings.
Kith, acquaintance.
Kittle, ticklish, in all its senses.
Kittled, tickled.
Kittled, breeded, i.e. brought forth
young ; applied only to some do¬
mestic animals.
Kiver, cover.
Knacks, trifles for ornament ; nick-
nacs.
Knapping (gnapping), English, af¬
fecting to speak fine without
knowing how.
Knave-bairn, man-child.
Knave, servant; miller's boy.
Knaveship, mill-dues paid to the
knaves or servants.
Knevelled, nevelled, beat violently
with the fists.
Know, knoll, rising ground -, hil¬
lock.
Krames, v. Cremes.
Kyloes, Highland cattle.
Kyte (kit), belly.
Kythe, seem; appear-, make to ap¬
pear.
Kylevene, v. keelyvine.
L.
Laid, load.
Laid till her, awarded to her by fate :
laid to her charge.
Laigh, low. Laigh-crofts, low lying
fields of inferior quality.
Lair, lear, learning.
Laird, lord of a manor ; squire.
Laith, loath.
Laive, lave, the rest; -what is left.
Lamiter, lame person; cripple.
Lamping, beating; also going quick¬
ly and with long strides.
Lammer, lamer, laumer, amber.
Lane, " his lane," himself alone.
" By their lane," themselves alone.
Land (in towns), a building includ¬
ing different tenements above one
another upon the same foundation
and under the same roof.
Landlouper, runagate; one who runs
his country.
Lang, long.
Lang-syne, long since ; long ago.
Lap, leaped.
Lapper, coagulate ; curdle,
Lassie, lassock, little girl.
Lat, let. "Lat he," let alone.
Latch, dub: mire.
Lauch, law ; custom : usage
Lave, rest
Lawing, lawin, tavern reckoning.
Leal, loyal; true.
Leaguer lady, soldiers wife; cam¬
paigner ; camp-trotter.
Led-farm, farm held along with
another.
Leddy, lady.
Leech, physician.
Leelane, leefu'lane, all alone ; quite
solitary.
Leesome, pleasant. " Leesome
lane," dear self alone.
Leevin', leeving, living.
Leg-bail, " to give leg-bail," to run
away.
Leglin-girth, girth of a milk-pail.
Leglins, milk-pails.
Let-a-he, let alone.
Let on, acknowledge, confess.
Let that flee slick to the wa', let
that alone.
Lethering, tanning the hide; thrash¬
ing.
Leugh, laughed.
teven, lightning.
Lick-penny, a greedy covetous pet-
son .
Lift, sky.
Li I't cattle, make a prey of cattle
" Lift rents," collect rents.
GLOSSARY.
411
Lifters, cattle-dealers.
Lightly, slight.
Like-wake, lyke-wake, watching a
corpse before interment.
Lilt, carol; lively air.
Limmer, a loose woman.
Linking, walking- quickly and
lightly.
Links, flat sandy ground on the
sea-shore.
Lippen, rely upon; trust to.
Lipping, making notches on the edge
of a sword or knife.
Lippit, notched.
Lippy, fourth part of a peck.
Lith, joint.
Lithe, pliant; supple.
Loan, lane; enclosed road.
Loanin, loaning, greensward on
which cows are milked.
Loch, lake.
Lock, small quantity ; handful.
Loo, love.
Loof, luif, palm of the hand. " Out¬
side of the loof,'' hack of the
hand.
Lookit, looked.
Loom, implement; vessel.
Loon, loun, rogue; rustic boy.
naughty woman. The word is of
both genders.
Loop (Gael.), bend of a river .
Loopy, crafty ; deceitful.
Loosome, lovely.
Looten, permitted.
Lound, calm ; low and sheltered.
still; tranquil.
Lounder, severe stunning blow.
Lounder, quieter.
Loup, leap.
Louping-ill, leaping-evil: a disease,
among sheep.
Louping-on-stane, horse-block ; lit.
the step-stone by ivhieh one gets
to the saddle.
Loup the dyke, leap the fence;
break out of or into the enclo¬
sure ; scamp.
how, flame.
Loveable, loveable; praiseworthy.
Luckie. goody ; gammer : old gran-
dam.
Luckie-dad, luckie-daddie, grand¬
father.
M.
Ma, mamma.
Mae, ma, moe, more.
Magg, steal.
Magg, maggs, halfpenny; perquisite
m pence to servants, §fc.
Magnum, magnum bonum, double-
sized bottle, holding two English
quarts.
Mail, jrayable rent.
Mailing, farm.
Mail-payer, rent-payer.
Mailed (with the bluid), mixed.
Maining, bemoaning.
Mains, demesne.
Mair, more.
Maist, most; almost.
Maisterfu', imperious; violent.
Maistery, power.
Majorillg, looking and talking big.
Malison, curse.
Maltalent, evil purpose; evil incli¬
nation.
Mammie, infantine of mamma.
Mammocks, gobbets.
Mane, moan.
Manna, must not.
Manse, parsonage house.
Mansworn, perjured.
Manty, manlua silk, mantle.
Marches, landmarks ; boundaries.
Marie, marvel.
Marrow, match ; mate; one of a pair.
Mart, the fatted coiv, or whatever
animal is slaughtered at Mar¬
tinmas for winter provision
Mashlum, mixed grain.
412
GLOSSARY.
Mask, mash ; injuse.
Masking-fat, mash-tub.
Maukin, hare.
Maun, must.
Maundering, palavering ; talking
idly.
Maunna, must not.
Maw, mow (with the scythe).
Mawking, maulkin, hare.
Mawn, mowed.
Maybie, it may be; perhaps.
Mayhap, it may happen.
Mazed, amazed.
Mear, mare.
Meg dorts, saucy Meg ; saucy wench.
Meikle, much ; great; large ; big ;
preeminent.
Melder, as much meal as is ground
at one time.
Mells, middles ; mixes; interposes.
Meltith, a meal.
Meiths, nueths, eggs of the blow-fly
upon meat.
Meiths, marks; landmarks ■
Mends, amends.
Mense, manners; moderation.
Mensefu', mannerly; modest.
Mess, mass.
Messan, a little dog.
Mickle, v. meikle.
Midden, dunghill.
Midges, gnats.
Mightna, might not.
Mini, prim : precise.
Minced collops, minced beef.
Minnie, mammie, infantine word for
mamma.
Mint, aim ; attempt; endeavour.
Mirk, dark. Pit mirk (pick mirk),
dash as pitch.
Mirligoes, dizziness ; megrims in
the head.
Misca'd, miscalled; abused and
called names.
Mischieve, do a mischief to.
Misguggled, mangled and disfigured;
rumpled and disordered.
Mislear'd, ill-taught; ill-bred.
Mislippen, neglect; also suspect and
disappoint.
Misset, put out of sorts.
Mister, need. " Mister wight," child
of necessity ; doubtful character.
Mistryst, disappoint by breaking an
engagement; deceive; use ill.
Mither, mother.
Mittans, worsted gloves worn by the
lower orders.
Mizzles, measles«
Mools, v. mouls.
Moor-ill, a disease among cattle.
Mony, many.
Morn, "the morn," to-morrow.
Mornin', morning, morning dram,
or draught.
Morts, the skins of lambs that die
of themselves.
Moss-hags, pits and sloughs in a
mire or bog.
Moudiwarp, moudiwart, mouldwarp,
mole.
Mouls, mools, earth; the grave.
Mousted (muisted) head, cropped
head of hair.
Muckle, v. meikle.
Mugs, the large Teeswater sheep.
Muhme, (Gael.) nurse.
Muils, moulds; cloth or list shoes
for gout.
Muir, moors.
Muir-pouts (poots), young grouse.
Munt, mount.
Murgeons, grimaces ; wry mouths.
Mutch, ivoman's linen or muslin
cap.
Mutchkin, English pint.
Mysell, ma'sell, myself.
GLOSSARY.
N.
Na, nae, no.'
Naig, nag.
Nain, own.
Nainsell, own-self.
Napery, table linen.
Nane, none.
Nar, near.
Nasligab, impertinent chatter.
Natheless, nevertheless.
Near, close; narrow; niggardly.
Near-hand, near-at-hand; nearly ;
almost.
Neb-bill, nose ; point of any thing.
Neebor, neighbour.
Needna, need not.
Ne'er-be-lickit, nothing which could
be liclced up, by dog or cat; ab¬
solutely nothing.
Ne'er-do-weels, scapegraces; never
to thrive.
Neeve, the closed hand; fist.
Ncevie-neevie-nee-nack, the first
line to the remaining three, viz.
Which hand will you tak,
Tak the right, tak the wrang,
I'll beguile you if I can.
A lottery rhyme used among boys
while whirling the two closedfists
round each other, one containing
the prize, the other empty.
Neist, nighest; next.
Neuk, nook; corner.
Nevelled, v. Knevelled.
Nevoy, nephew.
New-fangled, new-fashioned ; en¬
grossed with some novelty.
Nicher, nicker, neigh.
Nick-nackets, trinkets; gimcracks.
Nick-sticks, notched sticks ; tallies.
Nieve, v. Neeve.
Nievefu', handful.
Niffer, exchange.
Niffy-naffy, fastidious ; conceited
and finical.
Night-cowl, nightcap.
Noited, knoited, rapped; struck
forcibly against ; as " Noited
their heads," knocked heads to¬
gether.
Nor, than.
Norland, north-land; belonging to
the north country.
Nourice, nurse.
Nout, nowt, nolt, black cattle.
Nudge, jog with the elbow as a hint
of caution.
0.
Od ! odd ! a minced oath, omitting
one letter.
Odd-come-shortly, chance time not
far off; escape.
Oe, oy, oye, grandchild.
Off-come, come off; escape.
Ohon, ohonari! (interj.) alas! woe
is me.
Onding,fall of rain or snow.
Onfall,falling on; attack.
Onslaught, inroad; hostile incursion:
attack.
Onstead, farm-stead ; the buildings
on a farm.
Ony, any.
Open steek, open stitch.
Or, ere; before.
Ordinar, ordinary ; common ; usual
Orra, odd; not matched; that may
be spared; unemployed.
Ostler-wife, woman that kept an
hostelry.
Out bye, without ; a. little way
out.
GLOSSARY.
Outshot, projecting part of an old
building.
Out take, except.
Ovver, over.
Owerby, over the way.
Owerlay, o'erlay, overlay, cravat;
covering.
Owerloup, get over the fence ; tres¬
pass on another's properly.
" Start and owerloup," a Jaw
phrase relating to Marches. See
Marches.
Owertaen, overtaken.
Owsen, oxen.
Oye, grandson, v. Oe.
P.
Pa, p>apa.
Pace, Pasch, Easter.
Paidle, pettle; staff; ploughstaff;
also hoe.
Paidle, tramp as clothes in a tub ;
also short and irregular steps,
such as of children.
Paik, beat.
Paiks, blows; a beating.
Palmering, walking infirmly.
Panged, crammed; stuffed.
Pantler, keeper of the pantry.
Paratlle, ostentatious display.
Paroehine, parish.
Parritch, porridge ; hasty pudding.
Parritch-time, breakfast-time
Partan, crab-fish.
Passemented, guarded with lace,
fringe, §'c.
Pat, pot.
Pat, put.
Patrick, paetrick, partrick, pertrick,
partridge.
Pattle, plough-staff.
Pauchty, haughty.
Pauk, wile.
Pawky, wily; sly; clrolly, but not
mischievously.
Pearlins, pearlings; lace.
Pease-bogle, scarecrow.
Peaseweep, peesewecp, peeweet,
lapiving.
Peat, pet; favourite.
Peat-liagg, sloughs in places from
whence peat has been dug.
Peeching, r. Peghing.
Pedder, pedlar; hawker.
Peeble, pebble.
Peel, a place of strength, or fortifi¬
cation, in general. In particular,
it signifies a stronghold, the
defences of which are of earth
mixed with timber, strengthened
with palisades.
Peel. Peel-house, in the Border
counties, is a small square tower,
built of stone and lime.
Peengin, whining.
Peer, poor; also a pear.
Peerie, boy's spinning-top, set in.
motion by the pull of a string, in
place of being whipped.
Peerie, carious; suspicious.
Peers, pears.
Peghing, peching, puffing and pant¬
ing ; breathing hard.
Peghts, the Picts.
Pellack, pellock, porpoise; in old
Scotch, a bullet.
Peltrie, furrier's wares.
Pen-gun, pop-gun; from boys' play
crackers formed of quill barrels.
Pennystane, stone quoit.
Pensy, proud and conceited.
Pettle, indulge ; treat as a pet.
Phraising, palavering ; making long
or fine speeches.
Pick, pickaxe; also pitch.
Pick-mirk, dark as pitch.
Pickle, grain of corn ; small quant ity
of any thing. "Pickle in our ain
pockneuk," Supply ourselves from
our own means.
Pick-maw, a small sea-gull.
GLOSSARY.
115
Piclarnie, the great. tern.
Pig, earthen pot, vessel, Of pitcher.
Pigs, piggs, crockery-ware.
Pike, pick.
Pilniewinks, instruments for tortur¬
ing the fingers, v. Pinnywinkles.
Pinchers, iron crows.
Pinging, uttering feeble, frequent,
and somewhat peevish complaints.
A sickly spoiled child is called a
pinging thing.
Pingled, pained; put to difficulty.
Pinner, a cap with lappets, formerly
worn by women of rank.
Pinnywinkles, a board with holes,
into which the fingers are thrust,
and pressed upon with pegs, as a
species of torture.
Pint, two 'English quarts.
Pioted, pyebald.
Pipestaple, tobacco-stopper ; also
broken tidies of clay tobacco pipes.
Pirn, bobbin; the bobbin of a spin¬
ning-wheel; the reed, or quill
bobbin in a weaver's shuttle.
Pit, put.
Pith, strength.
Pithless, wanting strength.
Plack, a copper coin, equal to the
third part of an English penny.
Plainstanes, the pavement.
Plenishing, furniture.
Pleugh, plough.
Pleugh-pettle, plough-staff.
Plies, folds.
Pliskies, mischievous tricks.
Plot, scald.
Plottie, mulled wine.
Ploy, employment; harmless frolic;
merry meeting.
PlufF, puff, hairdresser's powder-
Phtf-
Pock, poke, pouch; bay.
Pockmanty, portmanteau.
Poind, distrain.
Polonie, Polonian, 'a great, coat; a.
Polish surtout.
Pooin, pulling.
Poor-man of Mutton, cold meat:
cold mutton broiled.
Poorfu', powerful.
Poortith, poverty.
Pootry, poutry, poultry.
Poots,pouts,poults; young grouse,Q'c.
Poppling, bubbling; purling; rip¬
pling.
Pose, deposit; hoard of money.
Potatoe-hogle, scarecrow.
Pottercarrier, pottinger, apothecary.
Pouch, pocket.
Pouss, pouse, poos, push; slight,
quick pull, or sportive snatch.
Pouther, poivder.
Pouthered, powdered; corned ;
slightly salted.
Pouting, shooting at the young poults
of partridges.
Pow, poll; head; alsojoool.
Powney, pony.
Powsowdie, sheep's head broth :
milk and meal boiled together ;
any mixture of incongruous sorts
of food.
Powtering, pockering, poltering,
groping among the ashes ; or po¬
kering incessantly in the fire;
rummaging in the dark.
Pratty, pretty.
Preceesely, precisely.
Prent, print.
Prick, spur.
P r i c k - m y - d a i n ty,« and finical.
Prie, taste; prove by tasting.
Prigged, entreated earnestly ; plead¬
ed hard; higgled for a bargain
Propale, publish; disclose.
Propine, a present; gift.
Public, public-house ; inn.
Puddings, guts ; sausages.
Puir, poor.
Pupit, pulpit.
Pun, pund, pound.
Put on, clothed.
Putted a stane, pitched a stone.
Putting the stane is a very old
Scottish and northern gymnastic
exercise.
Pyat, magpie.
Pyket, picked,
416
GLOSSARY.
Q-
Quaich, small drinking c,up.
Quarters, lodgings.
Quean, young woman. The term,
like the English wench, is some¬
times used jocularly, though
oftener disrespectfully.
Queans, wenches.
Queery-madam, cuise-madame; a
pear so called.
Queish, quegh, v. Quaich.
Quern, handmill.
Quey, heifer; young cow.
R.
Rade, rode.
Raes, roes.
Raff, person of worthless character;
v. Scowff.
Raip, rape; rope.
Rair, raired, outcry; from roar.
Raise, rose ; arose.
Rampallions, rude romps.
Rampauging, raging and storming:
prancing about ivith fury.
Ram-stam, forward; thoughtless;
rash.
Randy, riotous; disorderly.
Raploch, coarse undyed woollen
cloth.
Rapparees, ivorthless runagates.
Rapscallions, rascals.
Rase, rose.
Rath, ready ; quick; early.
Ratten, rottin, rotton, rat.
Raunletree, randletree, rantletree,
the beam from which the crook is
suspended where there is no grate;
also a tree chosen with two branch¬
es, which are cut short, and
left somewhat in the form of the
letter Y, set close to or built into
the gable of a cottage, to support
one end of the root-tree.
Rave, tore.
Ravelled, entangled; confused.
Rax, stretch.
Raxing, reaching; stretching.
Reaving, open violent thieving.
Red, to interfere and separate, as
in two people fighting ; to disen¬
tangle ; clear, and put in order.
Red, redd, rede, advice; advise.
Redder's-lick, v. Redding-straik.
Redding, unravelling; putting to
rights.
Redding-came, large-toothed comb.
Redding-straik, a stroke received
in attempting to separate com¬
batants in a fray; a blow in.
return for officious interference.
Redd up, put in order.
Rede, advise.
Redshank, Highlander with buskins
of red deer skin with the hair
outwards; applied also as a nick¬
name to a Highlander, in derision
of his bare limbs.
Red-wud, stark mad.
Reek, smoke.
Reekie, smoky.
Reek, reik, rink, course; exploit;
adventure ; frolic.
Reeving, reiving, reaving, robbing.
Reird, v. rair.
Reise, ryse, twig.
Reises, cut brushwood; shrubs.
Reist, stop obstinately; stick fast
in the middle.
Rcisted, stopped; stuck fast.
Reisted, roosted; smoke dried.
Reisting, restive; having the habit
of stopping as a horse.
GLOSSARY.
417
Rickle, heap of stones; or peats,
§fc.
Riding-days, days of hostile incur¬
sions on horseback.
Rief, robbery.
Rievers, robbers.
Rieving. See Reeving.
Riff-raff, rabble.
Rig, ridge of land; course; path.
Rigg, wild adventure; dissipated
frolic.
Rigging, back; ridge ; roof.
Rigging-tree, roof-tree.
Rin, run.
Rinthereout, run out of doors; gad
about; vagabond.
Ripe, search.
Ritt, rip ; tear; cut; applied almost
only to the surface of the ground.
Rive, rift; split; rend; tear.
Riven, rent; torn.
Rizzer'd, half-salted and half-dried
fish.
Rock, distaff.
Rokelay, short cloak.
Roopit, hoarse.
Roose, ruse, extol; praise.
Rotten, rat. j
Roughies, toithered boughs ; a sort
of rude torch; also dried heath.
Round, roun, whisper.
Roup, auction.
Rouping, auctioning.
Roupit, rouped, sold by auction.
Rouping wife, saleswoman, who
attends roups.
Rousted, rusted.
Routh, plenty.
Routing, roaring; bellowing ; snor-
' ing.
Roving, raving; delirious.
Row, roll.
Rowan-tree, mountain-ash.
Rowed, rolled.
Rowt, roar like a bull.
Rubbit, robbed.
Rudas, rowds, haggard old woman.
Rug, pull; dog cheap bargain.
Rugging, pulling roughly.
Rullions, shoes made of untanned
leather.
Rund, rand, selvage of broad cloth,
list.
Rung, a rough undressed staff.
Runt, an old cow ; also the stalk of
colewort or cabbage.
s.
Sa, sae, so.
Sack and fork, Lat. fossa et furca,
i. e. drowning and hanging.
Sack doudling, bagpiping.
Sackless, saikless, sakeless, in¬
nocent.
Sain, bless against evil influence ;
literally, sign with the sign of the
cross.
Sair, sore ; very much.
Salvage, savage.
Sandy laverock, sand lark; san-
derling.
Sap, sop.
Sapeless, v. Sackless.
Sark, shirt.
Saugh, sallow broad-leaved willow.
Saul, soul; mettle.
Saulie, a hired mourner.
Saultfat, pickling tub; beef stand.
Saut, salt.
Sautfit, salt-dish.
Saw, sow seed.
Sawing, sowing.
Scaff-rafF, riff-raff; rabble.
Scaith, harm ; damage.
Scaithless, unharmed; uninjured.
Scald, scauld, scold.
Scart, cormorant.
Scart, scratch.
Scat, tribute; tax; answering to the
Latin vectigal.
Scathless, free from harm.
Scauding, scalding.
28
418
GLOSSARY.
Scauff and raff, rough plenty, with¬
out selection ; fun and frolic in
plenty.
Scaur, scare ; frighten.
Scaur, precipitous hank of earth
overhanging a river.
Schelm, rogue.
Sclated, slated.
Scomfishing, suffocating by bad air.
Scones, small cakes.
Scotch collops, scotched collops;
beef-stealcs, scotched, and broilid
in the frying-pan.
Scouping, skelpiug, moving hastily;
running ; scampering.
Scour, put forward.
Scouther, scorch.
Scraughing, scraiching, screaming
hoarsely
Screed, a long stripe of cloth hast¬
ily torn off; a long tirade upon
any subject, hastily brought out;
a rash frolic.
Screeded, torn.
Screigh o'morning, the first dawn.
Scud, a heavy shower.
Scudlar, scullion.
Scull, shallow fish-baslcet.
Sculduddery, relating to what is
unchaste.
Scunner, disgust.
Sealgh, selch, seal; sea-calf.
Sea-maw, sea-meiv ; sea-gull.
Seannachie, Highland antiquary.
Seer, sure.
Seiled, strained through a cloth, or
sieve.
Seiped, oozed; seiping, oozing.
Sell, self; " the sell o' it," itself.
Semple, of low birth, opposed to
gentle.
Ser'ing, sairing, serving ; as much
as serves the turn ; enough.
Set, fit ; become; suit.
Sey, " back sey," sirloin.
Shabble, cutlass.
Shand, a cant term for base coin.
Shanks, legs ; " shank yoursell
awa'," take to your legs ; be off.
Sharn, thin coiv-dung.
Shathruoiit, six inches in length.
Shaughling, shambling;" shaughling
shoon," shoes trodden dow?i on
one side by bad ivalking.
Shave, sheeve, slice of bread,
cheese, <§Tc.
Shaw, show.
Shaws, woods ; also, leaves of pota¬
toes, turnips, bfc.
Shear, cut; divide.
Shearing, sheering, reaping.
Shealing, temporary summer milk-
house.
Sheeling-hill (near a mill), rising
ground where the shelled oats (ere
xvinnowed.
Sheenest, clearest.
Shellum, skellum, rogue.
Sheltie, pony.
Shiel, shell; take out of the husk.
Shilpit, weak, washy, and insipid.
Shogging, shaking ; jogging.
Shool, shovel.
Shoon, shoes.
Shored, threatened.
Shouldna, sudna, should not.
Shot-window, a small ivindoiv,
chiefly filled with a board that
opens and slmts.
Shouther, shoulder; " show the
cauld shouther," appear cold and
reserved.
Shriegh, shriek.
Shule, v. shool.
Sliute, push ; also shoot.
Sibb, related to by blood.
Sic, siccan, such.
Sic like, just so.
Siccar, secure, safe.
Side, long; said of garments.
Siller, silver; money.
Sillock (fish), podley; gadus carbo
narius.
Silly, in a weakly state of health,
whether of body or mind.
Sindry, sundry.
Sith, since.
Skaith, v. Scaith.
Skarts, scratches.
Skeely, skeily, skeefu', skilful; cun¬
ning.
Skeens, knives;' " skeen dubh,"
GLOSSARY.
410
black knife ; the Highlander s
dernier resort.
Skellies, squints.
Skelloch, shrill cry ; squall.
Skelping, moving rapidly ; also,
slapping with the palm of the
hand.
Skeps, bee-hives.
Skitchers, skates.
Skinker, pourer out of liquor.
Skink, pour out; also, soup made
of the slcink, or hough of beef.
Skirl, shrill cry.
Skirl in the pan, sop in the pan.
Skirling, screaming.
Skitt, banter ; jeer.
Skivie, out of the proper direction ;
deranged.
Skreigh, screech ; loud shrill cry ,
" skreigh o'day,"pee/> of day.
Skrimp, stint, as to measure or
quantity.
Skulduddery, Sculduddery, forni¬
cation.
Skyte, contemptible fellow.
Slack, an opening between two hills;
hollow ichere no water runs.
Slade, slid ; slipped along.
Slaistering, doing any thing in an
awkward and untidy way ; espe¬
cially applied to dabbling in any
thing moist or unctuous.
Slaisters, dirty slops.
Slake, smear ; splotch of that with
which any thing is bedaubed.
Slap, breach in a fence.
Sleaveless-gate, sleaveless-errand,
an idle errand; hunting the
cuckoo.
Sliddery, slippery.
Slighted (as a fortress), dismantled.
Slink, little worth; not to be de¬
pended upon as good.
Slink, veal of a calf killed immedi¬
ately after calved.
Sloan, sloven.
Slockened, slaked.
Slogan, ivarcry, or gathering ivord.
Slot-hounds, sleuth-hounds, blood¬
hounds, who follow the slot, or
scent.
Slue, slip softly and quickly.
Sma', small.
Smaik, a silly fellow; a puny fel¬
low ; a paltry rogue.
Smeekit, smoked.
Smoor, smother.
Snag, suaggy, " aik snag," knarry
stump of an oak, a tree having
the branches roughly cut off.
Snapper, stumble.
Snaps, gingerbread nuts.
Snaw, snoio.
Sneck, latch ; " sneck-drawcr,"
latch-lifter ; bolt-drawer ; sly
fellow.
Sneckit, notched.
Sneeshing, snuff.
Snell, sharp ; cold; severe.
Sniggering, tittering sneeringly.
Snod, neat.
Snood, a young woman's maiden
fillet for tying round her head.
Snotter, the proboscis of a turkey-
cock. "To snotter and snivel,"
to blubber and snuffle. To snot¬
ter, is also to go loiteringly.
Somedele, somewhat.
Somegate, somehow ; somewhere.
Sorners, sojourners ; sturdy beg¬
gars ; obtrusive guests, who
pleaded privilege, and were not
easily got rid of, at least in the
Highlands, where the acts of Par¬
liament against them were not
enforced.
Sorning, spunging, and playing the
unwelcome guest.
Sort, to assort; arrange; fit; ac¬
commodate and manage.
Sough, the noise of wind; the
breathing of a person in deep
sleep ; the chaunt, or recitative,
peculiar to the old Presbyterians
in Scotland, and to certain extra-
religious castes everywhere; also,
a rumour.
Soup, spoonful, or mouthful of
soup, or other liquid, or spoon-
meat.
Souple, the striking part of a flail.
Souple, supple; active; also subtle
420
GLOSSARY.
Souther, sovvder, solder.
Southron, south-country man ; Eng¬
lishman.
Soutor, souter, shoemaJcer.
Sowens, flummery; blancmange,
made of the oatmeal which re¬
mains in the bran after bolting,
converted into a sub-acid starch.
Spae, foretell.
Spaewife, prophetess.
Spang, spring.
Spanged, sprung.
Sparry-grass, asparagus.
Spauld, shoulder.
Speck and span new, quite new.
Speel, climb.
Speer, ask.
Speerings, askings ; answers to
questions asked; information.
Spence, dispensary; parlour.
Spick and span, matter atid form.
Spleuchan, tobacco-pouch.
Splores, frolics ; riots.
Sporran (Gael.), purse.
Sprack, spruce; sprightly.
Spraickle, scramble; get on with
difficulty.
Spreagh, prey; literally, cattle.
Spreaglierie, cattle-lifting, prey-
driving ; also, S7nall spoil ; pal¬
try booty of small articles.
Sprees, sprays, short irregularities,
and convivial indulgences.
Springs, merry tunes, to which peo¬
ple spring and dance.
Sprug, sparrow.
Sprush, spruce.
Spulzie, spoil.
Spule-bane, blade-bone.
Spune, spoon.
Spunk, a match ; a taper ; a spark
of fire ; a small fire.
Spunkie, will-d-wisp ; jack with the
lantern; ignis fatuus.
Spur-whang, spur leather.
Staff, stave.
Staig, an unbroke-in young horse.
Staik, steak.
Stalwart, stalwarth, steehoorthy;
stout and courageous.
Stamach, stomach.
Stance, standing-place.
Stanchels, stancheons, iron bars for
securing windows.
Stane, staine, stone.
Stang, sting ; also, a long pole.
Stark staring mad, evidently quite
mad.
Stark, strong; rigid; stiff.
Staw, put to a stand; surfeit- ,
Steek, stitch; also shut.
Steer, stir ; molest.
Steer'd, stirred; meddled with.
Steery, bustle ; stir; quandary.
Steeve, stiff; strong ; durable.
Steevely, stievely, firmly.
Stell, place of covert ; shelter.
Stend, make long steps.
Sterns, starns, stars.
Stibbler, clerical probationer; ap¬
plied in ridicule.
Sticked, stickit,stuck ; stabbed; also
bungled and spoiled in the making.
Stickit minister, a clerical student
or probationer become unqualified
for the ministerial office from im¬
becility, or immoral conduct.
Stievely, stiffly; firmly.
Sting and ling, vi et armis.
Stir, sir.
Stirk, a young steer or heifer be¬
tween one and two years old.
Stoiting, staggering.
Stoop and roop, stu?np and rump ;
altogether.
Stot, a bullock between two and
three years old.
Stour, dust ; skirmish; battle.
Stour, stoor, large atidstrong; stern.
Stour-looking, gruff-looking.
Stouth and routh, plenty.
Stouthrief, robbery.
Stow, cut off; lop.
Stowings, sprouts of colewort ga¬
thered in spring.
Strae, straw.
Strae-death, death upon the. bed-
straw; natural death.
Straik, stroke.
Straike, a strike ; a bushel.
Strath, a valley through which a
river runs.'
GLOSSARY.
4'21.
Straughted, stretched ; made
straight.
Streak, streek, striek, stretch; lay
out a corpse.
Stress, hard pressure ; hard strain¬
ing.
Sturdied sheep, a sheep that has
the sturdy, or giddiness, from
water in the head.
Suckin, mill-dues.
Suddenty, sudden.
Suld, should.
Sumph, soft muddy-headed fellow.
Sune, soon.
Sune or syne, sooner or later.
Sunkets, provision of any sort.
Sunkie, loiv stool.
Surquedy (Ivanhoe), presumption ;
insolence.
Sute, soot.
Swankie, supple active young fellow.
Swanking, supple ; active.
Swap, exchange.
Swart-back, great black-and-ivhite
gull.
Swarfit, swarveit, swooned.
Swarved, swerved.
Swattered, squattered, spluttered;
flounced; moved rapidly in the
water.
Sweal, to run; said of a candle.
Swear, sweer, lazy; reluctant.
Sweepit, swept.
Swire, neck; also, declination in a
hill; holloio between two hills.
Swirles, whirls ; circular motions.
Swith, quickly.
Swither, doubt; hesitation.
Swuir, swore.
Sybo, an onion that does not form
a bulb at the root.
Syke, sike, small rill, commonly
running out of a quagmire ; small
rill without sand or gravel.
Syn, syne, sin, since; then; after
that; in that case.
Synd, rinse ; syndings, rinsings.
Syver, gutter; "causeyed syver,"
stone-paved gutter.
Tae, toe.
Tae, the ae, the one; tae half, the
one half.
Taed, taid, toad.
Taen,taken.
Taillie, deed of entail.
Tait, lock of wool, §fc.
Tale, "wi' their tale," according to
their own story ; as they pretend.
Talent, purpose; inclination.
Tammie-norie (bird), the auk, or
puffin.
Tangle, the stem of the larger fucus
digitalis, a species of sea-weed.
The term is also applied contemp¬
tuously to any long dangling per¬
son or thing.
Tangs, tongs.
Tap of tow, the quantity of tow, or
hards, that is made up in a co¬
nical figure, to be put upon the
distaff.
Tape, to tape, to make a little go a
great way; to use sparingly.
Tappit hen (in drinking), a tin pot
with a nob on the top, contain¬
ing a quart of ale.
Tarr'd, marked with tar, as sheep;
" a' tarr'd wi' the same stick," one
as bad as the other.
Tasker, a labourer ivho does task¬
work.
Tasse, cup.
Tassell, tussell.
Tatty, natted.
Tauld, told.
Taupie, a slow foolish slut.
Tawse, the leather strap used for
chastisement in Scotland.
Tee'd ball (at golf), a ball raised
on a nob of earth.
■m
GLOSSARY.
Teind, see Tiend.
Tender, delicate, as to health;
iveakly ; ailing.
Tent, attention ; caution; care.
Tengh, tench, tough.
Thack, thatch.
Thae, these.
Thack, thatch. " Under thack and
rape," under thatch and rope;
commonly used in allusion to (he
stacks in the barn-yard, after they
are thatched-in for the winter;
so that, "under thack and rape"
means snug and comfortable. .
Thairm, smallgut; catgut; fiddle-
string.
That,—"no that far off," not very
far off.
Theeking, thatching ; thatch.
Theow and Esne (Ivanhoe), thrall
and bondsman.
Thiggers, mannerly beggars, that
ask a benevolence, not an alms.
Thigging, going round collecting
benevolences ; genteel begging.
Thegitlier, together.
Thereout, out of doors.
Thick, intimate.
Thirlage, thraldom ; astriction to a
mill.
Tholed, suffered.
Thought, a very little ; somewhat.
Thowless, sluggish ; inactive.
Thrang, throng; busy.
Thrapple, thropple, throat.
Thraw, twist; writhe. "Heads and
thraws," lying side by side, the
feet of the one by the head of the
other.
Thoom, thumb.
Thrawart. cross-grained; ill-tem¬
pered.
Thrawing, twisting; thwarting.
Thrawn, twisted; perverse ; ill-tem¬
pered; crabbed.
Threave, tiventy-four sheaves, or
two shocks of grain.
Threep, threap, accusation; per¬
tinacious affirmation; threat.
" An auld threep," a superstition
obstinately persisted in of old.
Threepit, persisted in averring.
Thresh, a rush.
Through-stane, grave-stone.
Thrum o'er, tell over in a tiresome
manner.
Thumbikins, thumb-screws f01
torture.
Tiends, tithes.
T'g, twitch.
Till, to.
Tillie-wallie, fiddle-faddle.
Time about, alternately.
Tine, lose.
Tinklers, tinkers.
Tint, lost.
Tippences, twopenny pieces.
Tippenny, ale at tivopence a quart.
Tirlie-wirlie holes, intricate holes.
Tirling, digging up; uncovering.
" Tirling at the door pin," tivirl-
ing the handle of the latch.
Tirrievies, tantrums.
Tittie, the infantine and endearing
manner of pronouncing sister.
Tocher, marriage portion.
Tocherless, portionless.
Tod, fox.
Toddling, waddling as children do.
Took of drum, tuck of drum.
Tooin, empty.
Toon. See Town.
Toot (tout) of a horn, blast of a
horn.
Torsk, tusk, a short thick cod-fish
so called.
Tou, thou.
Toustie, testy.
Tout, pout; pet; huff; also sound of
a horn.
Toutie, haughty.
Touzled out, ransacked.
Touzled. in disorder; such as the
hair uncombed; rumpled.
Tow, hards; also a rope.
Town, any inhabited place; a single
steading.
Toy-mutch, close linen cap, without
lace, frill, or border, and with
flaps covering the neck and part
of the shoulders.
Trailled, dragged.
GLOSSARY.
-123
Traiking, lounging; dangling.
Tramped, stamped; trod.
Tramper, scamp; run-a-gate.
Trashed, deteriorated through had
usage.
Treen, made of tree ; wooden.
Trig, neat.
Trindling, trundling.
Trocking, trucking; bartering; hav¬
ing intercourse.
Troggs, troth.
Trotcosie, a warm covering for the
head, neclc, and breast, when tra¬
velling in bad weather.
Trow, trew, believe; think: guess.
Trump, Jew's harp.
Tryacle, treacle.
Tryst, appointment; rendes-vous..
Trysted with, met with.
Tuilzie, toolyie, tusyle, scuffle.
Tup, ram.
Turbinacious, of, or belonging to
peat, or rather turf.
Turnpike stair, winding staircase.
Twa, twae, two.
Twall, twelve.
Twalpennies, one penny sterling.
Twopenny, beer which cost twopence
a Scottish quart.
Tyke, dog, of the larger kind.
Tyne, lose ; tint, lost.
Tynes, antlers of a stag ; teeth of a
harrow.
u.
Udal, allodial.
Udaler, one who holds his lands by
allodial tenure.
Ugsome, disgusting.
Ulzie, oil.
Umquhile, whilom ; ci-devant; late.
Unhrized, unbroken.
Uncanny, dangerous; supposed to
possess supernatural powers.
Unce, ounce.
Unchancy, unlucky ; dangerous.
Unco, uncouth; strange; unknown;
it is also used intensitively, as
" Unco little," very little.
Unfreens, unfriends ; enemies.
Unhalsed, unsaluted.
Unkenn'd, unknown.
Untenty, incautious; careless.
Untill, unto; till.
Up-bye, a little way farther on; up
the ivay.
Upcast, reproach.
Upgoing, ascent.
Uphaud, uphold; maintain.
Uphauden, supported; laid tinder
obligation.
Upsetting, conceited; assuming.
Upsides with, even with; quit with.
Up-tak, conception; applied to the
understanding.
V.
Vaes, in Orkney and Shetland, Vassail-buird, cup-board.
inlets of the sea. Visnomy, visage.
Vaik, become vacant. Vivers.food; eatables.
Vassaill, vessels■
421
GLOSSARY.
w.
Wa', wall.
Waal, ivell.
Wabster, wehster; weaver.
Wad, wager ; pledge; hostage.
Wad, would.
Wadna, would not.
Wae, woe.
Waesome, woful.
Waff, blast.
Waif, strayed; vagabond.
Waising, weissiug, directing.
Wakerife, vigilant.
Wale, choice ; choose.
Wallie, valet.
Walise, saddle-bags; portmanteau.
Wallowing, weltering.
Wallydraigle, the youngest bird in a
nest, and hence used for say feeble
ill-grown creature.
Walth, plenty.
Wame, womb ; belly.
Wamefou', bellyfull.
Wampishes, tosses franticly.
Wan, got; won. " Wan o'er," got
over.
Wanchancy, unlucky.
Wanion, vengeance; the devil.
Wan-thriven, stunted; decayed;
whose thriving is retrograde.
Ware, expend ; lay out.
Wanle, active; strong; healthy.
W ark, worlc.
Wark looms, tools.
Warlock, wizard.
Warld, world.
Warse, worse.
Warstle, wirstle, wrastle, wrestle.
Wasna, was not.
Wastell cake, wassail cake; an
oaten loa f baked in the oven, with
carraway seeds, §fc. in it.
Wastrife, wastry, waste; imprudent
expense.
Wat, wet.
Wat, weet, know.
Water-broo, water gruel.
Water-purpie, water speedwell;
brook lime.
Wather, weather.
Wauch, waff, wauff, nauseous; bad,
shabby.
Wauff, wave ; flap.
Waught, hearty draught of liquor.
WauT, worse : also put to the worse;
get the better of.
Waured, ivorsted; vanquished.
Wawlj roll the eyes, and look wildly.
Waws, wells, and swelchies, waves,
whirlpools, and gulfs.
Wean, wee ane, little one; child.
Wear, last; endure.
Wear, weir, war.
" Wear the jacket." This phrase
alludes to a custom now, we
believe, obsolete, by which, on
paying a certain fee, or otherwise
making interest with the huntsmen
of the Caledonian Hunt, any ci¬
tizen aspirant, whose rank did
not entitle him to become a member
of that more highly born society,
might become entitled to the field-
privileges of the Hunt, and among
others, was tolerated to wear the.
jacket of the order.
Wearifu', painful; distressing.
Weasand, wind-pipe.
Weather-gaws, signs of an ap¬
proaching storm.
Wee, small.
Weel, well; weal.
Weel, weil, well; prosperity ; ad¬
vantage.
Weft, waft, woof.
Weigh bawks, the beam of a balance
for weighing.
Weight, a sieve without holes, for
winnowing corn.
Weel a weel, well well'.
Weil, wiel, a small whirlpool.
GLOSSARY.
4-25
Weird, destiny. " The weird is
dree'd," the ill fortune is suffered;
the destiny is fulfilled.
Weise, weize, wuss, wush, lead;
guide; point out; show the way;
direct; put in the way.
Welked, waukit,/w//e</ cloth, callous.
Well-head, spring.
Wern, scar.
Werena, were not.
We'se, we shall.
Wha, ivho.
Whample, stroke; slash.
Whang, leather.
Whap, curlew.
Whar, whaur where.
What for no ? why not ?
Wheen, whin, parcel; a number of
persons or things.
Whidding, scudding.
Whigamore, great whig.
Whigging, jogging rudely; urging
forward.
Whigmaleeries, trinkets ; nick-
nackets ; whims.
Whiles, sometimes.
Whillied, wheedled; cheated by
wheedling.
WThillying, bamboozling ; deceiving
with specious pretences.
Whilly-whas, idle cajoling speeches;
flummery.
Whilk, which.
Whin, v. Wheen.
Whingeing, fawning and tvhining
like a dog.
Whinger, a sort of hanger used as a
knife at meals and in broils.
Whinnying, neighing.
Whins, furze; gorse.
Whirrying, flying rapidly.
White hass, sausages stuffed ivith
oatmeal and suet.
Whittie-whattieing, making foolish
conjectures; reasoning to little
purpose.
Whittle, knife.
Whittret, weasel, from white throat.
W homling, whelming ; overturning.
Whom, horn.
W'hully-whaing, cajoling.
Whummle, whelm; turn over.
Whunstane, whin-stone.
Wi', with.
W ife-carle, a man ivho busies him¬
self about household affairs or
women's work.
WTill-awa', weal-away, woe is me !
Willyard, icild; strange; unac¬
countable ; shy.
Wimple, winding turn.
W in, get ; " win by," get past;
"win to," reach.
Windle-strae, crested dog's-tail
grass.
W indies, a turning frame, upon
which yarn is put, to be wound
off
Window-bole, the part of a cottage
window that is filled by a wooden
blind.
Winna, wunna, will not.
Winsome, gainly; lovely; pretty;
of engaging appearance, or cha¬
racter and manners.
W ithershins, wrong-ways about;
from right to left; contrary to
the apparent motion of the sun.
Withy, woody, rope of twisted
ivands.
W itters, barbs of a fishing-spear, or
of a fishing-hook, fc.
Witting, weeting, knowing.
Woo', wool.
Woodie, galloivs ; also, a withie, or
rope of twisted wands, in which
malefactors seem formerly to have
been hanged.
Worriecow, wirriecow, hobgoblin;
bugbear ; scarecrow ; the devil.
Wowf, wayivard ; icild ; unre¬
claimed; disordered in intellect.
Wraith, an apparition-.
Wud, wood, mad.
Wuddy, v. Woodie.
Wull-a-wins, woe is me !
Wull-cat, wild-cat; cat-a-moun-
tain.
Wull, will. "What's yer wull,"
what is your pleasure.
Wuzzent, withered; dried.
Won, win; get, in all its senses.
20
426
GLOSSARY.
Wunna, winna. ivill not.
Wuss, wish. See also Weise.
Wyliecoat, hoy's flannel under-dress
next the shirt; flannel petticoats.
Y.
Wynds (in a town), turnings off
from the streets ; lanes.
Wyte, blame.
Wyted, blamed.
Yaffing, barking, like a dog in a
passion ; chattering.
Yagger, hunter; ranger about the
country ; pedlar.
Yald, supple ; active ; athletic.
Yammered, made a loud outcry.
Yanking, way of talking English.
Yaud, jade; mare.
Yaud, "far yaud," a cry of encou¬
ragement, or direction, from a
shepherd to his dog.
Yauld, alert ; athletic.
Yearned, curdled.
Yearning, rennet.
Yelloch, shrill cry.
Yelloched, raised a shrill cry.
Yellow yoldring, yellow yorling,
yellow-hammer.
Yer, your.
Yerl, earl.
Yestreen, yester even ; last night.
Yin, one.
Yince, once.
Yett, gate.
Yoking, the ploughing that is done
at one putting-to of the horses.
Yon, there; yonder; beyond.
Yook, yeuking, yowking, itch, itch¬
ing.
Yowe, etve.
THE END.
31VA
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