NOTES TO THE HEART
OF MID-LOTHIAN.
NOTE A—Author’s connection with Quakerism.
It is an old proverb, that “many
a true word is spoken in jest.” The existence
of Walter Scott, third son of Sir William Scott of
Harden, is instructed, as it is called, by a charter
under the great seal, Domino Willielmo Scott de Harden
Militi, et Waltero Scott suo filio legitimo tertio
genito, terrarum de Roberton.
See Douglas’s Baronage, page 215.
The munificent old gentleman left
all his four sons considerable estates. and settled
those of Eilrig and Raeburn, together with valuable
possessions around Lessuden, upon Walter, his third
son, who is ancestor of the Scotts of Raeburn, and
of the Author of Waverley. He appears to have
become a convert to the doctrine of the Quakers, or
Friends, and a great assertor of their peculiar tenets.
This was probably at the time when George Fox, the
celebrated apostle of the sect, made an expedition
into the south of Scotland about 1657, on which occasion,
he boasts, that “as he first set his horse’s
feet upon Scottish ground, he felt the seed of grace
to sparkle about him like innumerable sparks of fire.”
Upon the same occasion, probably, Sir Gideon Scott
of Highchester, second son of Sir William, immediate
elder brother of Walter, and ancestor of the author’s
friend and kinsman, the present representative of the
family of Harden, also embraced the tenets of Quakerism.
This last convert, Gideon, entered into a controversy
with the Rev. James Kirkton, author of the Secret
and True History of the Church of Scotland, which
is noticed by my ingenious friend Mr. Charles Kirkpatrick
Sharpe, in his valuable and curious edition of that
work, 4to, 1817. Sir William Scott, eldest of
the brothers, remained, amid the defection of his
two younger brethren, an orthodox member of the Presbyterian
Church, and used such means for reclaiming Walter
of Raeburn from his heresy, as savoured far more of
persecution than persuasion. In this he was assisted
by MacDougal of Makerston, brother to Isabella MacDougal,
the wife of the said Walter, and who, like her husband,
had conformed to the Quaker tenets.
The interest possessed by Sir William
Scott and Makerston was powerful enough to procure
the two following acts of the Privy Council of Scotland,
directed against Walter of Raeburn as an heretic and
convert to Quakerism, appointing him to be imprisoned
first in Edinburgh jail, and then in that of Jedburgh;
and his children to be taken by force from the society
and direction of their parents, and educated at a distance
from them, besides the assignment of a sum for their
maintenance, sufficient in those times to be burdensome
to a moderate Scottish estate.
“Apud Edin., vigesimo Junii 1665.
“The Lords of his Magesty’s
Privy Council having receaved information that Scott
of Raeburn, and Isobel Mackdougall, his wife, being
infected with the error of Quakerism, doe endeavour
to breid and trains up William, Walter, and Isobel
Scotts, their children, in the same profession, doe
therefore give order and command to Sir William Scott
of Harden, the said Raeburn’s brother, to seperat
and take away the saids children from the custody
and society of the saids parents, and to cause educat
and bring them up in his owne house, or any other convenient
place, and ordaines letters to be direct at the said
Sir William’s instance against Raeburn, for
a maintenance to the saids children, and that the
said Sir Wm. give ane account of his diligence with
all conveniency.”
“Edinburgh, 5th July 1666.
“Anent a petition presented
be Sir Wm. Scott of Harden, for himself and in name
and behalf of the three children of Walter Scott of
Raeburn, his brother, showing that the Lords of Councill,
by ane act of the 22d day of Junii 1665, did grant
power and warrand to the petitioner, to separat and
take away Raeburn’s children, from his family
and education, and to breed them in some convenient
place, where they might be free from all infection
in their younger years, from the principalls of Quakerism,
and, for maintenance of the saids children, did ordain
letters to be direct against Raeburn; and, seeing
the Petitioner, in obedience to the said order, did
take away the saids children, being two sonnes and
a daughter, and after some paines taken upon them
in his owne family, hes sent them to the city of Glasgow,
to be bread at schooles, and there to be principled
with the knowledge of the true religion, and that it
is necessary the Councill determine what shall be
the maintenance for which Raeburn’s three children
may be charged, as likewise that Raeburn himself,
being now in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, where he dayley
converses with all the Quakers who are prisoners there,
and others who daily resort to them, whereby he is
hardened in his pernitious opinions and principles,
without all hope of recovery, unlesse he be separat
from such pernitious company, humbly therefore, desyring
that the Councell might determine upon the soume of
money to be payed be Raeburn, for the education of
his children, to the petitioner, who will be countable
therefor; and that, in order to his conversion, the
place of his imprisonment may be changed. The
Lords of his Maj. Privy Councell having at length
heard and considered the foresaid petition, doe modifie
the soume of two thousand pounds Scots, to be payed
yearly at the terms of Whitsunday be the said Walter
Scott of Raeburn, furth of his estate to the petitioner,
for the entertainment and education of the said children,
beginning the first termes payment therof at Whitsunday
last for the half year preceding, and so furth yearly,
at the said terme of Whitsunday in tym comeing till
furder orders; and ordaines the said Walter Scott of
Raeburn to be transported from the tolbooth of Edinburgh
to the prison of Jedburgh, where his friends and others
may have occasion to convert him. And to the
effect he may be secured from the practice of other
Quakers, the said Lords doe hereby discharge the magistrates
of Jedburgh to suffer any persons suspect of these
principles to have access to him; and in case any
contraveen, that they secure ther persons till they
be therfore puneist; and ordaines letters to be direct
heirupon in form, as effeirs.”
Both the sons, thus harshly separated
from their father, proved good scholars. The
eldest, William, who carried on the line of Raeburn,
was, like his father, a deep Orientalist; the younger,
Walter, became a good classical scholar, a great friend
and correspondent of the celebrated Dr. Pitcairn,
and a Jacobite so distinguished for zeal, that he made
a vow never to shave his beard till the restoration
of the exiled family. This last Walter Scott
was the author’s great-grandfather.
There is yet another link betwixt
the author and the simple-minded and excellent Society
of Friends, through a proselyte of much more importance
than Walter Scott of Raeburn. The celebrated John
Swinton, of Swinton, nineteenth baron in descent of
that ancient and once powerful family, was, with Sir
William Lockhart of Lee, the person whom Cromwell chiefly
trusted in the management of the Scottish affairs during
his usurpation. After the Restoration, Swinton
was devoted as a victim to the new order of things,
and was brought down in the same vessel which conveyed
the Marquis of Argyle to Edinburgh, where that nobleman
was tried and executed. Swinton was destined
to the same fate. He had assumed the habit, and
entered into the Society of the Quakers, and appeared
as one of their number before the Parliament of Scotland.
He renounced all legal defence, though several pleas
were open to him, and answered, in conformity to the
principles of his sect, that at the time these crimes
were imputed to him, he was in the gall of bitterness
and bond of iniquity; but that God Almighty having
since called him to the light, he saw and acknowledged
these errors, and did not refuse to pay the forfeit
of them, even though, in the judgment of the Parliament,
it should extend to life itself.
Respect to fallen greatness, and to
the patience and calm resignation with which a man
once in high power expressed himself under such a change
of fortune, found Swinton friends; family connections,
and some interested considerations of Middleton the
Commissioner, joined to procure his safety, and he
was dismissed, but after a long imprisonment, and
much dilapidation of his estates. It is said that
Swinton’s admonitions, while confined in the
Castle of Edinburgh, had a considerable share in converting
to the tenets of the Friends Colonel David Barclay,
then lying there in the garrison. This was the
father of Robert Barclay, author of the celebrated
Apology for the Quakers. It may be observed
among the inconsistencies of human nature, that Kirkton,
Wodrow, and other Presbyterian authors, who have detailed
the sufferings of their own sect for nonconformity
with the established church, censure the government
of the time for not exerting the civil power against
the peaceful enthusiasts we have treated of, and some
express particular chagrin at the escape of Swinton.
Whatever might be his motives for assuming the tenets
of the Friends, the old man retained them faithfully
till the close of his life.
Jean Swinton, grand-daughter of Sir
John Swinton, son of Judge Swinton, as the Quaker
was usually termed, was mother of Anne Rutherford,
the author’s mother.
And thus, as in the play of the Anti-Jacobin,
the ghost of the author’s grandmother having
arisen to speak the Epilogue, it is full time to conclude,
lest the reader should remonstrate that his desire
to know the Author of Waverley never included a wish
to be acquainted with his whole ancestry.
NOTE B.—TOMBSTONE TO HELEN WALKER.
On Helen Walker’s tombstone
in Irongray churchyard, Dumfriesshire, there is engraved
the following epitaph, written by Sir Walter Scott:
THIS STONE
WAS ERECTED
BY THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY
TO THE
MEMORY
OF
HELEN WALKER,
WHO DIED IN THE
YEAR OF GOD 1791.
THIS HUMBLE INDIVIDUAL
PRACTISED IN REAL LIFE
THE VIRTUES
WITH WHICH FICTION HAS INVESTED
THE IMAGINARY
CHARACTER OF
JEANIE
DEANS;
REFUSING THE SLIGHTEST
DEPARTURE
FROM VERACITY,
EVEN TO SAVE THE LIFE OF A SISTER,
SHE NEVERTHELESS
SHOWED HER
KINDNESS AND FORTITUDE,
IN RESCUING HER FROM THE SEVERITY OF
THE LAW
AT THE EXPENSE OF PERSONAL EXERTIONS
WHICH THE TIME RENDERED AS DIFFICULT
AS THE MOTIVE WAS LAUDABLE.
RESPECT THE GRAVE
OF POVERTY
WHEN COMBINED WITH LOVE OF TRUTH
AND DEAR AFFECTION.
Erected
October 1831.
NOTE C.—THE OLD TOLBOOTH.
The ancient Tolbooth of Edinburgh,
Situated as described in this CHAPTER, was built
by the citizens in 1561, and destined for the accommodation
of Parliament, as well as of the High Courts of Justice;*
and at the same time for the confinement of prisoners
for debt, or on criminal charges. Since the year
1640, when the present Parliament House was erected,
the Tolbooth was occupied as a prison only.
* [This is not so certain. Few
persons now living are likely to remember the interior
of the old Tolbooth, with narrow staircase, thick
walls, and small apartments, nor to imagine that
it could ever have been used for these purposes.
Robert Chambers, in his Minor Antiquities of
Edinburgh, has preserved ground-plans or sections,
which clearly show this,—the largest hall
was on the second floor, and measuring 27 feet by
20, and 12 feet high. It may have been intended
for the meetings of Town Council, while the Parliament
assembled, after 1560, in what was called the Upper
Tolbooth, that is the south-west portion of the Collegiate
Church of St. Giles, until the year 1640, when the
present Parliament House was completed. Being
no longer required for such a purpose, it was set
apart by the Town Council on the 24th December 1641
as a distinct church, with the name of the Tolbooth
parish, and therefore could not have derived the
name from its vicinity to the Tolbooth, as usually
stated.]
Gloomy and dismal as it was, the situation
in the centre of the High Street rendered it so particularly
well-aired, that when the plague laid waste the city
in 1645, it affected none within these melancholy
precincts. The Tolbooth was removed, with the
mass of buildings in which it was incorporated, in
the autumn of the year 1817. At that time the
kindness of his old schoolfellow and friend, Robert
Johnstone, Esquire, then Dean of Guild of the city,
with the liberal acquiescence of the persons who had
contracted for the work, procured for the Author of
Waverley the stones which composed the gateway, together
with the door, and its ponderous fastenings, which
he employed in decorating the entrance of his kitchen-court
at Abbotsford. “To such base offices may
we return.” The application of these relies
of the Heart of Mid-Lothian to serve as the postern-gate
to a court of modern offices, may be justly ridiculed
as whimsical; but yet it is not without interest, that
we see the gateway through which so much of the stormy
politics of a rude age, and the vice and misery of
later times, had found their passage, now occupied
in the service of rural economy. Last year, to
complete the change, a tomtit was pleased to build
her nest within the lock of the Tolbooth,—a
strong temptation to have committed a sonnet, had the
Author, like Tony Lumpkin, been in a concatenation
accordingly.
It is worth mentioning, that an act
of beneficence celebrated the demolition of the Heart
of Mid-Lothian. A subscription, raised and applied
by the worthy Magistrate above mentioned, procured
the manumission of most of the unfortunate debtors
confined in the old jail, so that there were few or
none transferred to the new place of confinement.
[The figure of a Heart upon the pavement
between St. Giles’s Church and the Edinburgh
County Hall, now marks the site of the Old Tolbooth.]
NOTE D—THE PORTEOUS MOB.
The following interesting and authentic
account of the inquiries made by Crown Counsel into
the affair of the Porteous Mob, seems to have been
drawn up by the Solicitor-General. The office
was held in 1737 by Charles Erskine, Esq.
I owe this curious illustration to
the kindness of a professional friend. It throws,
indeed, little light on the origin of the tumult; but
shows how profound the darkness must have been, which
so much investigation could not dispel.
“Upon the 7th of September last,
when the unhappy wicked murder of Captain Porteus
was committed, His Majesty’s Advocate and Solicitor
were out of town; the first beyond Inverness, and
the other in Annandale, not far from Carlyle; neither
of them knew anything of the reprieve, nor did they
in the least suspect that any disorder was to happen.
“When the disorder happened,
the magistrates and other persons concerned in the
management of the town, seemed to be all struck of
a heap; and whether, from the great terror that had
seized all the inhabitants, they thought ane immediate
enquiry would be fruitless, or whether, being a direct
insult upon the prerogative of the crown, they did
not care rashly to intermeddle; but no proceedings
was had by them. Only, soon after, ane express
was sent to his Majestie’s Solicitor, who came
to town as soon as was possible for him; but, in the
meantime, the persons who had been most guilty, had
either ran off, or, at least, kept themselves upon
the wing until they should see what steps were taken
by the Government.
“When the Solicitor arrived,
he perceived the whole inhabitants under a consternation.
He had no materials furnished him; nay, the inhabitants
were so much afraid of being reputed informers, that
very few people had so much as the courage to speak
with him on the streets. However, having received
her Majestie’s orders, by a letter from the Duke
of New castle, he resolved to sett about the matter
in earnest, and entered upon ane enquiry, gropeing
in the dark. He had no assistance from the magistrates
worth mentioning, but called witness after witness
in the privatest manner, before himself in his own
house, and for six weeks time, from morning to evening,
went on in the enquiry without taking the least diversion,
or turning his thoughts to any other business.
“He tried at first what he could
do by declarations, by engaging secresy, so that those
who told the truth should never be discovered; made
use of no clerk, but wrote all the declarations with
his own hand, to encourage them to speak out.
After all, for some time, he could get nothing but
ends of stories which, when pursued, broke off; and
those who appeared and knew anything of the matter,
were under the utmost terror, lest it should take
air that they had mentioned any one man as guilty.
“During the course of the enquiry,
the run of the town, which was strong for the villanous
actors, begun to alter a little, and when they saw
the King’s servants in earnest to do their best,
the generality, who before had spoke very warmly in
defence of the wickedness, began to be silent, and
at that period more of the criminals began to abscond.
“At length the enquiry began
to open a little, and the Sollicitor was under some
difficulty how to proceed. He very well saw that
the first warrand that was issued out would start
the whole gang; and as he had not come at any of the
most notorious offenders, he was unwilling, upon the
slight evidence he had, to begin. However, upon
notice given him by Generall Moyle, that one King,
a butcher in the Canongate, had boasted, in presence
of Bridget Knell, a soldier’s wife, the morning
after Captain Porteus was hanged, that he had a very
active hand in the mob, a warrand was issued out,
and King was apprehended, and imprisoned in the Canongate
Tolbooth.
“This obliged the Sollicitor
immediately to take up those against whom he had any
information. By a signed declaration, William
Stirling, apprentice to James Stirling, merchant in
Edinburgh, was charged as haveing been at the Nether-Bow,
after the gates were shutt, with a Lochaber-ax or
halbert in his hand, and haveing begun a huzza, marched
upon the head of the mob towards the Guard.
“James Braidwood, son to a candlemaker
in town, was, by a signed declaration, charged as
haveing been at the Tolbooth door, giveing directions
to the mob about setting fire to the door, and that
the mob named him by his name, and asked his advice.
“By another declaration, one
Stoddart, a journeyman smith, was charged of having
boasted publickly, in a smith’s shop at Leith,
that he had assisted in breaking open the Tolbooth
door.
“Peter Traill, a journeyman
wright, (by one of the declarations) was also accused
of haveing lockt the Nether-Bow Port, when it was shutt
by the mob.
“His Majestie’s Sollicitor
having these informations, implored privately such
persons as he could best rely on, and the truth was,
there were very few in whom he could repose confidence.
But he was, indeed, faithfully served by one Webster,
a soldier in the Welsh fuzileers, recommended him
by Lieutenant Alshton, who, with very great address,
informed himself, and really run some risque in getting
his information, concerning the places where the persons
informed against used to haunt, and how they might
be seized. In consequence of which, a party of
the Guard from the Canongate was agreed on to march
up at a certain hour, when a message should be sent.
The Sollicitor wrote a letter and gave it to one of
the town officers, ordered to attend Captain Maitland,
one of the town Captains, promoted to that command
since the unhappy accident, who, indeed, was extremely
diligent and active throughout the whole; and haveing
got Stirling and Braidwood apprehended, dispatched
the officer with the letter to the military in the
Canongate, who immediately begun their march, and
by the time the Sollicitor had half examined the said
two persons in the Burrow-room, where the Magistrates
were present, a party of fifty men, drums beating,
marched into the Parliament close, and drew up, which
was the first thing that struck a terror, and from
that time forward, the insolence was succeeded by
fear.
“Stirling and Braidwood were
immediately sent to the Castle and imprisoned.
That same night, Stoddart, the smith, was seized, and
he was committed to the Castle also; as was likewise
Traill, the journeyman wright, who were all severally
examined, and denyed the least accession.
“In the meantime, the enquiry
was going on, and it haveing cast up in one of the
declarations, that a hump’d backed creature marched
with a gun as one of the guards to Porteus when he
went up to the Lawn Markett, the person who emitted
this declaration was employed to walk the streets to
see if he could find him out; at last he came to the
Sollicitor and told him he had found him, and that
he was in a certain house. Whereupon a warrand
was issued out against him, and he was apprehended
and sent to the Castle, and he proved to be one Birnie,
a helper to the Countess of Weemys’s coachman.
“Thereafter, ane information
was given in against William M’Lauchlan, ffootman
to the said Countess, he haveing been very active in
the mob; ffor sometime he kept himself out of the
way, but at last he was apprehended and likewise committed
to the Castle.
“And these were all the prisoners
who were putt under confinement in that place.
“There were other persons imprisoned
in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and severalls against
whom warrands were issued, but could not be apprehended,
whose names and cases shall afterwards be more particularly
taken notice of.
“The ffriends of Stirling made
an application to the Earl of Islay, Lord Justice-Generall,
setting furth, that he was seized with a bloody fflux;
that his life was in danger; and that upon ane examination
of witnesses whose names were given in, it would appear
to conviction, that he had not the least access to
any of the riotous proceedings of that wicked mob.
“This petition was by his Lordship
putt in the hands of his Majestie’s Sollicitor,
who examined the witnesses; and by their testimonies
it appeared, that the young man, who was not above
eighteen years of age, was that night in company with
about half a dozen companions, in a public house in
Stephen Law’s closs, near the back of the Guard,
where they all remained untill the noise came to the
house, that the mob had shut the gates and seized
the Guard, upon which the company broke up, and he,
and one of his companions, went towards his master’s
house; and, in the course of the after examination,
there was a witness who declared, nay, indeed swore
(for the Sollicitor, by this time, saw it necessary
to put those he examined upon oath), that he met him
[Stirling] after he entered into the alley where his
master lives, going towards his house; and another
witness, fellow-prentice with Stirling, declares, that
after the mob had seized the Guard, he went home,
where he found Stirling before him; and, that his
master lockt the door, and kept them both at home till
after twelve at night: upon weighing of which
testimonies, and upon consideration had, That he was
charged by the declaration only of one person, who
really did not appear to be a witness of the greatest
weight, and that his life was in danger from the imprisonment,
he was admitted to baill by the Lord Justice-Generall,
by whose warrand he was committed.
“Braidwood’s friends applyed
in the same manner; but as he stood charged by more
than one witness, he was not released—tho’,
indeed, the witnesses adduced for him say somewhat
in his exculpation—that he does not seem
to have been upon any original concert; and one of
the witnesses says he was along with him at the Tolbooth
door, and refuses what is said against him, with regard
to his having advised the burning of the Tolbooth
door. But he remains still in prison.
“As to Traill, the journeyman
wright, he is charged by the same witness who declared
against Stirling, and there is none concurrs with him
and, to say the truth concerning him, he seemed to
be the most ingenuous of any of them whom the Solicitor
examined, and pointed out a witness by whom one of
the first accomplices was discovered, and who escaped
when the warrand was to be putt in execution against
them. He positively denys his having shutt the
gate, and ’tis thought Traill ought to be admitted
to baill.
“As to Birnie, he is charged
only by one witness, who had never seen him before,
nor knew his name; so, tho’ I dare say the witness
honestly mentioned him, ’tis possible he may
be mistaken; and in the examination of above 200 witnesses
there is no body concurrs with him, and he is ane
insignificant little creature.
“With regard to M’Lauchlan,
the proof is strong against him by one witness, that
he acted as a serjeant, or sort of commander, for some
time, of a Guard, that stood cross between the upper
end of the Luckenbooths and the north side of the
street, to stop all but friends from going towards
the Tolbooth; and by other witnesses, that he was at
the Tolbooth door with a link in his hand, while the
operation of beating and burning it was going on;
that he went along with the mob with a halbert in
his hand, untill he came to the gallows stone in the
Grassmarket, and that he stuck the halbert into the
hole of the gallows stone: that afterwards he
went in amongst the mob when Captain Porteus was carried
to the dyer’s tree; so that the proof seems very
heavy against him.
“To sum up this matter with
regard to the prisoners in the Castle, ’tis
believed there is strong proof against M’Lauchlan;
there is also proof against Braidwood. But, as
it consists only in emission of words said to have
been had by him while at the Tolbooth door, and that
he is ane insignificant pitifull creature, and will
find people to swear heartily in his favours, ’tis
at best doubtfull whether a jury will be got to condemn
him.
“As to those in the Tolbooth
of Edinburgh, John Crawford, who had for some time
been employed to ring the bells in the steeple of the
New Church of Edinburgh, being in company with a soldier
accidentally, the discourse falling in concerning
the Captain Porteus and his murder, as he appears
to be a light-headed fellow, he said, that he knew
people that were more guilty than any that were putt
in prison. Upon this information, Crawford was
seized, and being examined, it appeared, that when
the mob begun, as he was comeing down from the steeple,
the mob took the keys from him; that he was that night
in several corners, and did indeed delate severall
persons whom he saw there, and immediately warrands
were despatched, and it was found they had absconded
and fled. But there was no evidence against him
of any kind. Nay, on the contrary, it appeared,
that he had been with the Magistrates in Clerk’s,
the vintner’s, relating to them what he had
seen in the streets. Therefore, after haveing
detained him in prison ffor a very considerable time,
his Majestie’s Advocate and Sollicitor signed
a warrand for his liberation.
“There was also one James Wilson
incarcerated in the said Tolbooth, upon the declaration
of one witness, who said he saw him on the streets
with a gun; and there he remained for some time, in
order to try if a concurring witness could be found,
or that he acted any part in the tragedy and wickedness.
But nothing farther appeared against him; and being
seized with a severe sickness, he is, by a warrand
signed by his Majestie’s Advocate and Sollicitor,
liberated upon giveing sufficient baill.
“As to King, enquiry was made,
and the ffact comes out beyond all exception, that
he was in the lodge at the Nether-Bow with Lindsay
the waiter, and several other people, not at all concerned
in the mob. But after the affair was over, he
went up towards the guard, and having met with Sandie
the Turk and his wife, who escaped out of prison, they
returned to his house at the Abbey, and then ’tis
very possible he may have thought fitt in his beer
to boast of villany, in which he could not possibly
have any share for that reason; he was desired to find
baill and he should be set at liberty. But he
is a stranger and a fellow of very indifferent character,
and ’tis believed it won’t be easy for
him to find baill. Wherefore, it’s thought
he must be sett at liberty without it. Because
he is a burden upon the Government while kept in confinement,
not being able to maintain himself.
“What is above is all that relates
to persons in custody. But there are warrands
out against a great many other persons who had fled,
particularly against one William White, a journeyman
baxter, who, by the evidence, appears to have been
at the beginning of the mob, and to have gone along
with the drum, from the West-Port to the Nether-Bow,
and is said to have been one of those who attacked
the guard, and probably was as deep as any one there.
“Information was given that
he was lurking at Falkirk, where he was born.
Whereupon directions were sent to the Sheriff of the
County, and a warrand from his Excellency Generall
Wade, to the commanding officers at Stirling and Linlithgow,
to assist, and all possible endeavours were used to
catch hold of him, and ’tis said he escaped very
narrowly, having been concealed in some outhouse;
and the misfortune was, that those who were employed
in the search did not know him personally. Nor,
indeed, was it easy to trust any of the acquaintances
of so low, obscure a fellow with the secret of the
warrand to be putt in execution.
“There was also strong evidence
found against Robert Taylor, servant to William and
Charles Thomsons, periwig-makers, that he acted as
ane officer among the mob, and he was traced from
the guard to the well at the head of Forester’s
Wynd, where he stood and had the appellation of Captain
from the mob, and from that walking down the Bow before
Captain Porteus, with his Lochaber axe; and, by the
description given of one who hawl’d the rope
by which Captain Porteus was pulled up, ’tis
believed Taylor was the person; and ’tis farther
probable, that the witness who debated Stirling had
mistaken Taylor for him, their stature and age (so
far as can be gathered from the description) being
the same.
“A great deal of pains were
taken, and no charge was saved, in order to have catched
hold of this Taylor, and warrands were sent to the
country where he was born; but it appears he had shipt
himself off for Holland, where it is said he now is.
“There is strong evidence also
against Thomas Burns, butcher, that he was ane active
person from the beginning of the mob to the end of
it. He lurkt for some time amongst those of his
trade; and artfully enough a train was laid to catch
him, under pretence of a message that had come from
his father in Ireland, so that he came to a blind alehouse
in the Flesh-market close, and, a party being ready,
was, by Webster the soldier, who was upon this exploit,
advertised to come down. However, Burns escaped
out at a back-window, and hid himself in some of the
houses which are heaped together upon one another
in that place, so that it was not possible to catch
him. ’Tis now said he is gone to Ireland
to his father who lives there.
“There is evidence also against
one Robert Anderson, journeyman and servant to Colin
Alison, wright; and against Thomas Linnen and James
Maxwell, both servants also to the said Colin Alison,
who all seem to have been deeply concerned in the
matter. Anderson is one of those who putt the
rope upon Captain Porteus’s neck. Linnen
seems also to have been very active; and Maxwell (which
is pretty remarkable) is proven to have come to a
shop upon the Friday before, and charged the journeymen
and prentices there to attend in the Parliament close
on Tuesday night, to assist to hang Captain Porteus.
These three did early abscond, and, though warrands
had been issued out against them, and all endeavours
used to apprehend them, could not be found.
“One Waldie, a servant to George
Campbell, wright, has also absconded, and many others,
and ’tis informed that numbers of them have shipt
themselves off ffor the Plantations; and upon an information
that a ship was going off ffrom Glasgow, in which
severall of the rogues were to transport themselves
beyond seas, proper warrands were obtained, and persons
despatched to search the said ship, and seize any that
can be found.
“The like warrands had been
issued with regard to ships from Leith. But whether
they had been scard, or whether the information had
been groundless, they had no effect.
“This is a summary of the enquiry,
ffrom which it appears there is no prooff on which
one can rely, but against M’Lauchlan. There
is a prooff also against Braidwood, but more exceptionable.
His Majestie’s Advocate, since he came to town,
has join’d with the Sollicitor, and has done
his utmost to gett at the bottom of this matter, but
hitherto it stands as is above represented. They
are resolved to have their eyes and their ears open,
and to do what they can. But they laboured exceedingly
against the stream; and it may truly be said, that
nothing was wanting on their part. Nor have they
declined any labour to answer the commands laid upon
them to search the matter to the bottom.”
THE PORTEOUS MOB.
In the preceding CHAPTERs (I. to
VI.) the circumstances of that extraordinary riot
and conspiracy, called the Porteous Mob, are given
with as much accuracy as the author was able to collect
them. The order, regularity, and determined resolution
with which such a violent action was devised and executed,
were only equalled by the secrecy which was observed
concerning the principal actors.
Although the fact was performed by
torch-light, and in presence of a great multitude,
to some of whom, at least, the individual actors must
have been known, yet no discovery was ever made concerning
any of the perpetrators of the slaughter.
Two men only were brought to trial
for an offence which the Government were so anxious
to detect and punish. William M’Lauchlan,
footman to the Countess of Wemyss, who is mentioned
in the report of the Solicitor-General, against whom
strong evidence had been obtained, was brought to
trial in March 1737, charged as having been accessory
to the riot, armed with a Lochaber axe. But this
man (who was at all times a silly creature) proved,
that he was in a state of mortal intoxication during
the time he was present with the rabble, incapable
of giving them either advice or assistance, or, indeed,
of knowing what he or they were doing. He was
also able to prove, that he was forced into the riot,
and upheld while there by two bakers, who put a Lochaber
axe into his hand. The jury, wisely judging this
poor creature could be no proper subject of punishment,
found the panel Not Guilty. The same verdict was
given in the case of Thomas Linning, also mentioned
in the Solicitor’s memorial, who was tried in
1738. In short, neither then, nor for a long period
afterwards, was anything discovered relating to the
organisation of the Porteous Plot.
The imagination of the people of Edinburgh
was long irritated, and their curiosity kept awake,
by the mystery attending this extraordinary conspiracy.
It was generally reported of such natives of Edinburgh
as, having left the city in youth, returned with a
fortune amassed in foreign countries, that they had
originally fled on account of their share in the Porteous
Mob. But little credit can be attached to these
surmises, as in most of the cases they are contradicted
by dates, and in none supported by anything but vague
rumours, grounded on the ordinary wish of the vulgar,
to impute the success of prosperous men to some unpleasant
source. The secret history of the Porteous Mob
has been till this day unravelled; and it has always
been quoted as a close, daring, and calculated act
of violence, of a nature peculiarly characteristic
of the Scottish people.
Nevertheless, the author, for a considerable
time, nourished hopes to have found himself enabled
to throw some light on this mysterious story.
An old man, who died about twenty years ago, at the
advanced age of ninety-three, was said to have made
a communication to the clergyman who attended upon
his death-bed, respecting the origin of the Porteous
Mob. This person followed the trade of a carpenter,
and had been employed as such on the estate of a family
of opulence and condition. His character in his
line of life and amongst his neighbours, was excellent,
and never underwent the slightest suspicion.
His confession was said to have been to the following
purpose: That he was one of twelve young men belonging
to the village of Pathhead, whose animosity against
Porteous, on account of the execution of Wilson, was
so extreme, that they resolved to execute vengeance
on him with their own hands, rather than he should
escape punishment. With this resolution they
crossed the Forth at different ferries, and rendezvoused
at the suburb called Portsburgh, where their appearance
in a body soon called numbers around them. The
public mind was in such a state of irritation, that
it only wanted a single spark to create an explosion;
and this was afforded by the exertions of the small
and determined band of associates. The appearance
of premeditation and order which distinguished the
riot, according to his account, had its origin, not
in any previous plan or conspiracy, but in the character
of those who were engaged in it. The story also
serves to show why nothing of the origin of the riot
has ever been discovered, since though in itself a
great conflagration, its source, according to this
account, was from an obscure and apparently inadequate
cause.
I have been disappointed, however,
in obtaining the evidence on which this story rests.
The present proprietor of the estate on which the old
man died (a particular friend of the author) undertook
to question the son of the deceased on the subject.
This person follows his father’s trade, and
holds the employment of carpenter to the same family.
He admits that his father’s going abroad at
the time of the Porteous Mob was popularly attributed
to his having been concerned in that affair; but adds
that, so far as is known to him, the old man had never
made any confession to that effect; and, on the contrary,
had uniformly denied being present. My kind friend,
therefore, had recourse to a person from whom he had
formerly heard the story; but who, either from respect
to an old friend’s memory, or from failure of
his own, happened to have forgotten that ever such
a communication was made. So my obliging correspondent
(who is a fox-hunter) wrote to me that he was completely
planted; and all that can be said with respect
to the tradition is, that it certainly once existed,
and was generally believed.
[N.B.—The Rev. Dr.
Carlyle, minister of Inveresk, in his Autobiography,
gives some interesting particulars relating to the
Porteous Mob, from personal recollections. He
happened to be present in the Tolbooth Church when
Robertson made his escape, and also at the execution
of Wilson in the Grassmarket, when Captain Porteous
fired upon the mob, and several persons were killed.
Edinburgh 1860, 8vo, pp. 30-42.]
NOTE E.—CARSPHARN JOHN.
John Semple, called Carspharn John,
because minister of the parish in Galloway so called,
was a Presbyterian clergyman of singular piety and
great zeal, of whom Patrick Walker records the following
passage: “That night after his wife died,
he spent the whole ensuing night in prayer and meditation
in his garden. The next morning, one of his elders
coming to see him, and lamenting his great loss and
want of rest, he replied,—’I declare
I have not, all night, had one thought of the death
of my wife, I have been so taken up in meditating
on heavenly things. I have been this night on
the banks of Ulai, plucking an apple here and there.’”—
Walker’s Remarkable Passages of the Life and
Death of Mr. John Semple.
NOTE F.—PETER WALKER.
This personage, whom it would be base
ingratitude in the author to pass over without some
notice, was by far the most zealous and faithful collector
and recorder of the actions and opinions of the Cameronians.
He resided, while stationary, at the Bristo Port of
Edinburgh, but was by trade an itinerant merchant,
or pedlar, which profession he seems to have exercised
in Ireland as well as Britain. He composed biographical
notices of Alexander Peden, John Semple, John Welwood,
and Richard Cameron, all ministers of the Cameronian
persuasion, to which the last mentioned member gave
the name.
It is from such tracts as these, written
in the sense, feeling, and spirit of the sect, and
not from the sophisticated narratives of a later period,
that the real character of the persecuted class is
to be gathered. Walker writes with a simplicity
which sometimes slides into the burlesque, and sometimes
attains a tone of simple pathos, but always expressing
the most daring confidence in his own correctness of
creed and sentiments, sometimes with narrow-minded
and disgusting bigotry. His turn for the marvellous
was that of his time and sect; but there is little
room to doubt his veracity concerning whatever he quotes
on his own knowledge. His small tracts now bring
a very high price, especially the earlier and authentic
editions. The tirade against dancing, pronounced
by David Deans, is, as intimated in the text, partly
borrowed from Peter Walker. He notices, as a
foul reproach upon the name of Richard Cameron, that
his memory was vituperated, “by pipers and fiddlers
playing the Cameronian march—carnal vain
springs, which too many professors of religion dance
to; a practice unbecoming the professors of Christianity
to dance to any spring, but somewhat more to this.
Whatever,” he proceeds, “be the many foul
blots recorded of the saints in Scripture, none of
them is charged with this regular fit of distraction.
We find it has been practised by the wicked and profane,
as the dancing at that brutish, base action of the
calf-making; and it had been good for that unhappy
lass, who danced off the head of John the Baptist,
that she had been born a cripple, and never drawn
a limb to her. Historians say, that her sin was
written upon her judgment, who some time thereafter
was dancing upon the ice, and it broke, and snapt
the head off her; her head danced above, and her feet
beneath. There is ground to think and conclude,
that when the world’s wickedness was great, dancing
at their marriages was practised; but when the heavens
above, and the earth beneath, were let loose upon
them with that overflowing flood, their mirth was
soon staid; and when the Lord in holy justice rained
fire and brimstone from heaven upon that wicked people
and city Sodom, enjoying fulness of bread and idleness,
their fiddle-strings and hands went all in a flame;
and the whole people in thirty miles of length, and
ten of breadth, as historians say, were all made to
fry in their skins and at the end, whoever are giving
in marriages and dancing when all will go in a flame,
they will quickly change their note.
“I have often wondered thorow
my life, how any that ever knew what it was to bow
a knee in earnest to pray, durst crook a hough to fyke
and fling at a piper’s and fiddler’s springs.
I bless the Lord that ordered my lot so in my dancing
days, that made the fear of the bloody rope and bullets
to my neck and head, the pain of boots, thumikens,
and irons, cold and hunger, wetness and weariness,
to stop the lightness of my head, and the wantonness
of my feet. What the never-to-be-forgotten Man
of God, John Knox, said to Queen Mary, when she gave
him that sharp challenge, which would strike our mean-spirited,
tongue-tacked ministers dumb, for his giving public
faithful warning of the danger of the church and nation,
through her marrying the Dauphine of France, when he
left her bubbling and greeting, and came to an outer
court, where her Lady Maries were fyking and dancing,
he said, ’O brave ladies, a brave world, if it
would last, and heaven at the hinder end! But
fye upon the knave Death, that will seize upon those
bodies of yours; and where will all your fiddling
and flinging be then?’ Dancing being such a common
evil, especially amongst young professors, that all
the lovers of the Lord should hate, has caused me
to insist the more upon it, especially that foolish
spring the Cameronian march!”—Life
and Death of Three Famous Worthies, etc.,
collected and printed for Patrick Walker, Edin. 1727,
12mo, p. 59.
It may be here observed, that some
of the milder class of Cameronians made a distinction
between the two sexes dancing separately, and allowed
of it as a healthy and not unlawful exercise; but when
men and women mingled in sport, it was then called
promiscuous dancing, and considered as a scandalous
enormity.
NOTE G.—MUSCHAT’S CAIRN.
Nichol Muschat, a debauched and profligate
wretch, having conceived a hatred against his wife,
entered into a conspiracy with another brutal libertine
and gambler, named Campbell of Burnbank (repeatedly
mentioned in Pennycuick’s satirical poems of
the time), by which Campbell undertook to destroy
the woman’s character, so as to enable Muschat,
on false pretences to obtain a divorce from her.
The brutal devices to which these worthy accomplices
resorted for that purpose having failed, they endeavoured
to destroy her by administering medicine of a dangerous
kind, and in extraordinary quantities.
This purpose also failing, Nichol
Muschat, or Muschet, did finally, on the 17th October
1720, carry his wife under cloud of night to the King’s
Park, adjacent to what is called the Duke’s Walk,
near Holyrood Palace, and there took her life by cutting
her throat almost quite through, and inflicting other
wounds. He pleaded guilty to the indictment, for
which he suffered death. His associate, Campbell,
was sentenced to transportation, for his share in
the previous conspiracy. See MacLaurin’s
Criminal Cases,pp. 64 and 738.
In memory, and at the same time execration,
of the deed, a cairn, or pile of stones, long
marked the spot. It is now almost totally removed,
in consequence of an alteration on the road in that
place.
NOTE H.—HANGMAN, OR LOCKMAN.
Lockman, so called from the
small quantity of meal (Scottice, lock) which
he was entitled to take out of every boll exposed to
market in the city. In Edinburgh, the duty has
been very long commuted; but in Dumfries, the finisher
of the law still exercises, or did lately exercise,
his privilege, the quantity taken being regulated by
a small iron ladle, which he uses as the measure of
his perquisite. The expression lock, for
a small quantity of any readily divisible dry substance,
as corn, meal, flax, or the like, is still preserved,
not only popularly, but in a legal description, as
the lock and gowpen, or small quantity
and handful, payable in thirlage cases, as in town
multure.
NOTE I.—THE FAIRY BOY OF LEITH,
This legend was in former editions
inaccurately said to exist in Baxter’s “World
of Spirits;” but is, in fact, to be found, in
“Pandaemonium, or the Devil’s Cloyster;
being a further blow to Modern Sadduceism,” by
Richard Bovet, Gentleman, 12mo, 1684. The work
is inscribed to Dr. Henry More. The story is
entitled, “A remarkable passage of one named
the Fairy Boy of Leith, in Scotland, given me by my
worthy friend, Captain George Burton, and attested
under his hand;” and is as follows:—
“About fifteen years since,
having business that detained me for some time in
Leith, which is near Edenborough, in the kingdom of
Scotland, I often met some of my acquaintance at a
certain house there, where we used to drink a glass
of wine for our refection. The woman which kept
the house was of honest reputation amongst the neighbours,
which made me give the more attention to what she
told me one day about a Fairy Boy (as they called
him) who lived about that town. She had given
me so strange an account of him, that I desired her
I might see him the first opportunity, which she promised;
and not long after, passing that way, she told me
there was the Fairy Boy but a little before I came
by; and casting her eye into the street, said, ’Look
you, sir, yonder he is at play with those other boys,’
and designing him to me. I went, and by smooth
words, and a piece of money, got him to come into the
house with me; where, in the presence of divers people,
I demanded of him several astrological questions,
which he answered with great subtility, and through
all his discourse carried it with a cunning much beyond
his years, which seemed not to exceed ten or eleven.
He seemed to make a motion like drumming upon the
table with his fingers, upon which I asked him, whether
he could beat a drum, to which he replied, ’Yes,
sir, as well as any man in Scotland; for every Thursday
night I beat all points to a sort of people that use
to meet under yon hill” (pointing to the great
hill between Edenborough and Leith). ‘How,
boy,’ quoth I; ’what company have you
there?’—’There are, sir,’
said he, ’a great company both of men and women,
and they are entertained with many sorts of music
besides my drum; they have, besides, plenty variety
of meats and wine; and many times we are carried into
France or Holland in a night, and return again; and
whilst we are there, we enjoy all the pleasures the
country doth afford.’ I demanded of him,
how they got under that hill? To which he replied,
’that there were a great pair of gates that opened
to them, though they were invisible to others, and
that within there were brave large rooms, as well
accommodated as most in Scotland.’ I then
asked him, how I should know what he said to be true?
upon which he told me he would read my fortune, saying
I should have two wives, and that he saw the forms
of them sitting on my shoulders; that both would be
very handsome women.
“As he was thus speaking, a
woman of the neighbourhood, coming into the room,
demanded of him what her fortune should be? He
told her that she had two bastards before she was
married; which put her in such a rage, that she desired
not to hear the rest. The woman of the house told
me that all the people in Scotland could not keep
him from the rendezvous on Thursday night; upon which,
by promising him some more money, I got a promise
of him to meet me at the same place, in the afternoon
of the Thursday following, and so dismissed him at
that time. The boy came again at the place and
time appointed, and I had prevailed with some friends
to continue with me, if possible, to prevent his moving
that night; he was placed between us, and answered
many questions, without offering to go from us, until
about eleven of the clock, he was got away unperceived
of the company; but I suddenly missing him, hasted
to the door, and took hold of him, and so returned
him into the same room; we all watched him, and on
a sudden he was again out of the doors. I followed
him close, and he made a noise in the street as if
he had been set upon; but from that time I could never
see him.
“GEORGE
BURTON.”
[A copy of this rare little volume
is in the library at Abbotsford.]
NOTE J.—INTERCOURSE OF THE COVENANTERS WITH THE INVISIBLE WORLD.
The gloomy, dangerous, and constant
wanderings of the persecuted sect of Cameronians,
naturally led to their entertaining with peculiar credulity
the belief that they were sometimes persecuted, not
only by the wrath of men, but by the secret wiles
and open terrors of Satan. In fact, a flood could
not happen, a horse cast a shoe, or any other the most
ordinary interruption thwart a minister’s wish
to perform service at a particular spot, than the
accident was imputed to the immediate agency of fiends.
The encounter of Alexander Peden with the Devil in
the cave, and that of John Sample with the demon in
the ford, are given by Peter Walker almost in the
language of the text.
NOTE K.—CHILD-MURDER.
The Scottish Statute Book, anno 1690,
CHAPTER 21, in consequence of the great increase of
the crime of child-murder, both from the temptations
to commit the offence and the difficulty of discovery
enacted a certain set of presumptions, which, in the
absence of direct proof, the jury were directed to
receive as evidence of the crime having actually been
committed. The circumstances selected for this
purpose were, that the woman should have concealed
her situation during the whole period of pregnancy;
that she should not have called for help at her delivery;
and that, combined with these grounds of suspicion,
the child should be either found dead or be altogether
missing. Many persons suffered death during the
last century under this severe act. But during
the author’s memory a more lenient course was
followed, and the female accused under the act, and
conscious of no competent defence, usually lodged a
petition to the Court of Justiciary, denying, for
form’s sake, the tenor of the indictment, but
stating, that as her good name had been destroyed by
the charge, she was willing to submit to sentence
of banishment, to which the crown counsel usually
consented. This lenity in practice, and the comparative
infrequency of the crime since the doom of public
ecclesiastical penance has been generally dispensed
with, have led to the abolition of the Statute of
William, and Mary, which is now replaced by another,
imposing banishment in those circumstances in which
the crime was formerly capital. This alteration
took place in 1803.
NOTE L.—CALUMNIATOR OF THE FAIR SEX.
The journal of Graves, a Bow Street
officer, despatched to Holland to obtain the surrender
of the unfortunate William Brodie, bears a reflection
on the ladies somewhat like that put in the mouth of
the police-officer Sharpitlaw. It had been found
difficult to identify the unhappy criminal; and when
a Scotch gentleman of respectability had seemed disposed
to give evidence on the point required, his son-in-law,
a clergyman in Amsterdam, and his daughter, were suspected
by Graves to have used arguments with the witness
to dissuade him from giving his testimony. On
which subject the journal of the Bow Street officer
proceeds thus:—
“Saw then a manifest reluctance in Mr. -------, and had no doubt the
daughter and parson would endeavour to persuade him to decline troubling
himself in the matter, but judged he could not go back from what he had
said to Mr. Rich.—­Nota Bene. <i>No mischief but a woman or a priest in
it</i>—­here both.”
NOTE M.—Sir William Dick of Braid.
This gentleman formed a striking example
of the instability of human prosperity. He was
once the wealthiest man of his time in Scotland, a
merchant in an extensive line of commerce, and a farmer
of the public revenue; insomuch that, about 1640,
he estimated his fortune at two hundred thousand pounds
sterling. Sir William Dick was a zealous Covenanter;
and in the memorable year 1641, he lent the Scottish
Convention of Estates one hundred thousand merks at
once, and thereby enabled them to support and pay
their army, which must otherwise have broken to pieces.
He afterwards advanced L20,000 for the service of King
Charles, during the usurpation; and having, by owning
the royal cause, provoked the displeasure of the ruling
party, he was fleeced of more money, amounting in
all to L65,000 sterling.
Being in this manner reduced to indigence,
he went to London to try to recover some part of the
sums which had been lent on Government security.
Instead of receiving any satisfaction, the Scottish
Croesus was thrown into prison, in which he died,
19th December 1655. It is said his death was
hastened by the want of common necessaries. But
this statement is somewhat exaggerated, if it be true,
as is commonly said, that though he was not supplied
with bread, he had plenty of pie-crust, thence called
“Sir William Dick’s Necessity.”
The changes of fortune are commemorated
in a folio pamphlet, entitled, “The Lamentable
Estate and distressed Case of Sir William Dick”
It contains three copper-plates,
one representing Sir William on horseback, and attended
with guards as Lord Provost of Edinburgh, superintending
the unloading of one of his rich argosies. A second
exhibiting him as arrested, and in the hands of the
bailiffs. A third presents him dead in prison.
The tract is esteemed highly valuable by collectors
of prints. The only copy I ever saw upon sale,
was rated at L30. (In London sales, copies have varied
in price from L15 to L52: 10s.)
NOTE N.—Doomster, or Dempster, of Court.
The name of this officer is equivalent
to the pronouncer of doom or sentence. In this
comprehensive sense, the Judges of the Isle of Man
were called Dempsters. But in Scotland the word
was long restricted to the designation of an official
person, whose duty it was to recite the sentence after
it had been pronounced by the Court, and recorded by
the clerk; on which occasion the Dempster legalised
it by the words of form, “And this I pronounce
for doom.” For a length of years, the office,
as mentioned in the text, was held in commendam with
that of the executioner; for when this odious but
necessary officer of justice received his appointment,
he petitioned the Court of Justiciary to be received
as their Dempster, which was granted as a matter of
course.
The production of the executioner
in open court, and in presence of the wretched criminal,
had something in it hideous and disgusting to the more
refined feelings of later times. But if an old
tradition of the Parliament House of Edinburgh may
be trusted, it was the following anecdote which occasioned
the disuse of the Dempster’s office.
It chanced at one time that the office
of public executioner was vacant. There was occasion
for some one to act as Dempster, and, considering the
party who generally held the office, it is not wonderful
that a locum tenens was hard to be found. At
length, one Hume, who had been sentenced to transportation,
for an attempt to burn his own house, was induced to
consent that he would pronounce the doom on this occasion.
But when brought forth to officiate, instead of repeating
the doom to the criminal, Mr. Hume addressed himself
to their lordships in a bitter complaint of the injustice
of his own sentence. It was in vain that he was
interrupted, and reminded of the purpose for which
he had come hither; “I ken what ye want of me
weel eneugh,” said the fellow, “ye want
me to be your Dempster; but I am come to be none of
your Dempster, I am come to summon you, Lord T, and
you, Lord E, to answer at the bar of another world
for the injustice you have done me in this.”
In short, Hume had only made a pretext of complying
with the proposal, in order to have an opportunity
of reviling the Judges to their faces, or giving them,
in the phrase of his country, “a sloan.”
He was hurried off amid the laughter of the audience,
but the indecorous scene which had taken place contributed
to the abolition of the office of Dempster. The
sentence is now read over by the clerk of court, and
the formality of pronouncing doom is altogether omitted.
[The usage of calling the Dempster
into court by the ringing of a hand-bell, to repeat
the sentence on a criminal, is said to have been abrogated
in March 1773.]
NOTE O.—John Duke of Argyle and Greenwich.
This nobleman was very dear to his
countrymen, who were justly proud of his military
and political talents, and grateful for the ready zeal
with which he asserted the rights of his native country.
This was never more conspicuous than in the matter
of the Porteous Mob, when the ministers brought in
a violent and vindictive bill, for declaring the Lord
Provost of Edinburgh incapable of bearing any public
office in future, for not foreseeing a disorder which
no one foresaw, or interrupting the course of a riot
too formidable to endure opposition. The same
bill made provision for pulling down the city gates,
and abolishing the city guard,—rather a
Hibernian mode of enabling their better to keep the
peace within burgh in future.
The Duke of Argyle opposed this bill
as a cruel, unjust, and fanatical proceeding, and
an encroachment upon the privileges of the royal burghs
of Scotland, secured to them by the treaty of Union.
“In all the proceedings of that time,”
said his Grace, “the nation of Scotland treated
with the English as a free and independent people;
and as that treaty, my Lords, had no other guarantee
for the due performance of its articles, but the faith
and honour of a British Parliament, it would be both
unjust and ungenerous, should this House agree to any
proceedings that have a tendency to injure it.”
Lord Hardwicke, in reply to the Duke
of Argyle, seemed to insinuate, that his Grace had
taken up the affair in a party point of view, to which
the nobleman replied in the spirited language quoted
in the text. Lord Hardwicke apologised.
The bill was much modified, and the clauses concerning
the dismantling the city, and disbanding the guard,
were departed from. A fine of L2000 was imposed
on the city for the benefit of Porteous’s widow.
She was contented to accept three-fourths of the sum,
the payment of which closed the transaction. It
is remarkable, that, in our day, the Magistrates of
Edinburgh have had recourse to both those measures,
hold in such horror by their predecessors, as necessary
steps for the improvement of the city.
It may be here noticed, in explanation
of another circumstance mentioned in the text, that
there is a tradition in Scotland, that George II.,
whose irascible temper is said sometimes to have hurried
him into expressing his displeasure par voie du
fait, offered to the Duke of Argyle in angry audience,
some menace of this nature, on which he left the presence
in high disdain, and with little ceremony. Sir
Robert Walpole, having met the Duke as he retired,
and learning the cause of his resentment and discomposure,
endeavoured to reconcile him to what had happened
by saying, “Such was his Majesty’s way,
and that he often took such liberties with himself
without meaning any harm.” This did not
mend matters in MacCallummore’s eyes, who replied,
in great disdain, “You will please to remember,
Sir Robert, the infinite distance there is betwixt
you and me.” Another frequent expression
of passion on the part of the same monarch, is alluded
to in the old Jacobite song—
The fire shall get
both hat and wig,
As oft-times they’ve got
a’ that.
NOTE P.—Expulsion of the
Bishops from the Scottish Convention.
For some time after the Scottish Convention
had commenced its sittings, the Scottish prelates
retained their seats, and said prayers by rotation
to the meeting, until the character of the Convention
became, through the secession of Dundee, decidedly
Presbyterian. Occasion was then taken on the
Bishop of Ross mentioning King James in his prayer,
as him for whom they watered their couch with tears.
On this the Convention exclaimed, they had no occasion
for spiritual Lords, and commanded the Bishops to
depart and return no more, Montgomery of Skelmorley
breaking at the same time a coarse jest upon the scriptural
expression used by the prelate. Davie Deans’s
oracle, Patrick Walker, gives this account of their
dismission.
“When they came out, some of
the Convention said they wished the honest lads knew
they were put out, for then they would not get away
with haill (whole) gowns. All the fourteen gathered
together with pale faces, and stood in a cloud in
the Parliament Close; James Wilson, Robert Neilson,
Francis Hislop, and myself, were standing close by
them; Francis Hislop with force thrust Robert Neilson
upon them, their heads went hard on one another.
But there being so many enemies in the city fretting
and gnashing the teeth, waiting for an occasion to
raise a mob, when undoubtedly blood would have been
shed, and having laid down conclusions amongst ourselves
to avoid giving the least occasion to all mobs, kept
us from tearing off their gowns.
“Their graceless Graces went
quickly off, and there was neither bishop nor curate
seen in the street—this was a surprising
sudden change not to be forgotten. Some of us
would have rejoiced near them in large sums to have
seen these Bishops sent legally down the Bow that they
might have found the weight of their tails in a tow
to dry their tow-soles; that they might know what
hanging was, they having been active for themselves
and the main instigators to all the mischiefs, cruelties,
and bloodshed of that time, wherein the streets of
Edinburgh and other places of the land did run with
the innocent precious dear blood of the Lord’s
people.”—Life and Death of three
famous Worthies (Semple, etc.), by Patrick
Walker. Edin. 1727, pp. 72, 73.
NOTE Q.—Half-hanged Maggie Dickson.
[In the Statistical Account of the
Parish of Inveresk (vol. xvi. p. 34), Dr. Carlyle
says, “No person has been convicted of a capital
felony since the year 1728, when the famous Maggy
Dickson was condemned and executed for child-murder
in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, and was restored to
life in a cart on her way to Musselburgh to be buried
. . . . . She kept an ale-house in a neighbouring
parish for many years after she came to life again,
which was much resorted to from curiosity.”
After the body was cut down and handed over to her
relatives, her revival is attributed to the jolting
of the cart, and according to Robert Chambers,—taking
a retired road to Musselburgh, “they stopped
near Peffer-mill to get a dram; and when they came
out from the house to resume their journey, Maggie
was sitting up in the cart.” Among the poems
of Alexander Pennecuick (who died in 1730), is one
entitled “The Merry Wives of Musselburgh’s
Welcome to Meg Dickson;” while another broadside,
without any date or author’s name, is called
“Margaret Dickson’s Penitential Confession,”
containing these lines referring to her conviction:—
“Who found me guilty
of that barbarous crime,
And did, by law, end this wretched life
of mine;
But God . . . . did me preserve,”
etc.
In another of these ephemeral productions
hawked about the streets, called, “A Ballad
by J—n B—s,” are the following
lines:—
“Please peruse
the speech
Of ill-hanged Maggy Dickson.
Ere she was strung, the wicked wife
Was sainted by the Flamen (priest),
But now, since she’s retum’d
to life,
Some say she’s the old
samen.”
In his reference to Maggie’s
calling salt after her recovery, the Author would
appear to be alluding to another character who went
by the name of “saut Maggie,” and
is represented in one or more old etchings about 1790.]
NOTE R.—Madge Wildfire.
In taking leave of the poor maniac,
the Author may here observe that the first conception
of the character, though afterwards greatly altered,
was taken from that of a person calling herself, and
called by others, Feckless Fannie (weak or feeble
Fannie), who always travelled with a small flock of
sheep. The following account, furnished by the
persevering kindness of Mr. Train, contains, probably,
all that can now be known of her history, though many,
among whom is the Author, may remember having heard
of Feckless Fannie in the days of their youth.
“My leisure hours,” says
Mr. Train, “for some time past have been mostly
spent in searching for particulars relating to the
maniac called Feckless Fannie, who travelled over
all Scotland and England, between the years 1767 and
1775, and whose history is altogether so like a romance,
that I have been at all possible pains to collect
every particular that can be found relative to her
in Galloway, or in Ayrshire.
“When Feckless Fannie appeared
in Ayrshire, for the first time, in the summer of
1769, she attracted much notice, from being attended
by twelve or thirteen sheep, who seemed all endued
with faculties so much superior to the ordinary race
of animals of the same species, as to excite universal
astonishment. She had for each a different name,
to which it answered when called by its mistress,
and would likewise obey in the most surprising manner
any command she thought proper to give. When
travelling, she always walked in front of her flock,
and they followed her closely behind. When she
lay down at night in the fields, for she would never
enter into a house, they always disputed who should
lie next to her, by which means she was kept warm,
while she lay in the midst of them; when she attempted
to rise from the ground, an old ram, whose name was
Charlie, always claimed the sole right of assisting
her; pushing any that stood in his way aside, until
he arrived right before his mistress; he then bowed
his head nearly to the ground that she might lay her
hands on his horns, which were very large; he then
lifted her gently from the ground by raising his head.
If she chanced to leave her flock feeding, as soon
as they discovered she was gone, they all began to
bleat most piteously, and would continue to do so
till she returned; they would then testify their joy
by rubbing their sides against her petticoat and frisking
about.
“Feckless Fannie was not, like
most other demented creatures, fond of fine dress;
on her head she wore an old slouched hat, over her
shoulders an old plaid, and carried always in her
hand a shepherd’s crook; with any of these articles
she invariably declared she would not part for any
consideration whatever. When she was interrogated
why she set so much value on things seemingly so insignificant,
she would sometimes relate the history of her misfortune,
which was briefly as follows:—
“’I am the only daughter
of a wealthy squire in the north of England, but I
loved my father’s shepherd, and that has been
my ruin; for my father, fearing his family would be
disgraced by such an alliance, in a passion mortally
wounded my lover with a shot from a pistol. I
arrived just in time to receive the last blessing
of the dying man, and to close his eyes in death.
He bequeathed me his little all, but I only accepted
these sheep, to be my sole companions through life,
and this hat, this plaid, and this crook, all of which
I will carry until I descend into the grave.’
“This is the substance of a
ballad, eighty-four lines of which I copied down lately
from the recitation of an old woman in this place,
who says she has seen it in print, with a plate on
the title-page, representing Fannie with her sheep
behind her. As this ballad is said to have been
written by Lowe, the author of Mary’s Dream,
I am surprised that it has not been noticed by Cromek
in his Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song;
but he perhaps thought it unworthy of a place in his
collection, as there is very little merit in the composition;
which want of room prevents me from transcribing at
present. But if I thought you had never seen
it, I would take an early opportunity of doing so.
“After having made the tour
of Galloway in 1769, as Fannie was wandering in the
neighbourhood of Moffat, on her way to Edinburgh, where,
I am informed, she was likewise well known, Old Charlie,
her favourite ram, chanced to break into a kale-yard,
which the proprietor observing, let loose a mastiff,
that hunted the poor sheep to death. This was
a sad misfortune; it seemed to renew all the pangs
which she formerly felt on the death of her lover.
She would not part from the side of her old friend
for several days, and it was with much difficulty she
consented to allow him to be buried; but still wishing
to pay a tribute to his memory, she covered his grave
with moss, and fenced it round with osiers, and annually
returned to the same spot, and pulled the weeds from
the grave and repaired the fence. This is altogether
like a romance; but I believe it is really true that
she did so. The grave of Charlie is still held
sacred even by the school-boys of the present day in
that quarter. It is now, perhaps, the only instance
of the law of Kenneth being attended to, which says,
’The grave where anie that is slaine lieth buried,
leave untilled for seven years. Repute every
grave holie so as thou be well advised, that in no
wise with thy feet thou tread upon it.’
“Through the storms of winter,
as well as in the milder seasons of the year, she
continued her wandering course, nor could she be prevented
from doing so, either by entreaty or promise of reward.
The late Dr. Fullarton of Rosemount, in the neighbourhood
of Ayr, being well acquainted with her father when
in England, endeavoured, in a severe season, by every
means in his power, to detain her at Rosemount for
a few days until the weather should become more mild;
but when she found herself rested a little, and saw
her sheep fed, she raised her crook, which was the
signal she always gave for the sheep to follow her,
and off they all marched together.
“But the hour of poor Fannie’s
dissolution was now at hand, and she seemed anxious
to arrive at the spot where she was to terminate her
mortal career. She proceeded to Glasgow, and while
passing through that city a crowd of idle boys, attracted
by her singular appearance, together with the novelty
of seeing so many sheep obeying her command, began
to ferment her with their pranks, till she became
so irritated that she pelted them with bricks and
stones, which they returned in such a manner, that
she was actually stoned to death between Glasgow and
Anderston.
“To the real history of this
singular individual credulity has attached several
superstitious appendages. It is said that the
farmer who was the cause of Charlie’s death
shortly afterwards drowned himself in a peat-hag;
and that the hand with which a butcher in Kilinarnock
struck one of the other sheep became powerless, and
withered to the very bone. In the summer of 1769,
when she was passing by New Cumnock, a young man,
whose name was William Forsyth, son of a farmer in
the same parish, plagued her so much that she wished
he might never see the morn; upon which he went home
and hanged himself in his father’s barn.
And I doubt not that many such stories may yet be
remembered in other parts where she had been.”
So far Mr. Train. The Author
can only add to this narrative that Feckless Fannie
and her little flock were well known in the pastoral
districts. In attempting to introduce such a
character into fiction, the Author felt the risk of
encountering a comparison with the Maria of Sterne;
and, besides, the mechanism of the story would have
been as much retarded by Feckless Fannie’s flock
as the night march of Don Quixote was delayed by Sancho’s
tale of the sheep that were ferried over the river.
The Author has only to add, that notwithstanding
the preciseness of his friend Mr. Train’s statement,
there may be some hopes that the outrage on Feckless
Fannie and her little flock was not carried to extremity.
There is no mention of any trial on account of it,
which, had it occurred in the manner stated, would
have certainly taken place; and the Author has understood
that it was on the Border she was last seen, about
the skirts of the Cheviot hills, but without her little
flock.
NOTE S.—Death of Francis Gordon.
This exploit seems to have been one
in which Patrick Walker prided himself not a little;
and there is reason to fear, that that excellent person
would have highly resented the attempt to associate
another with him in the slaughter of a King’s
Life-Guardsman. Indeed, he would have had the
more right to be offended at losing any share of the
glory, since the party against Gordon was already
three to one, besides having the advantage of firearms.
The manner in which he vindicates his claim to the
exploit, without committing himself by a direct statement
of it, is not a little amusing. It is as follows:—
“I shall give a brief and true
account of that man’s death, which I did not
design to do while I was upon the stage; I resolve,
indeed (if it be the Lord’s will), to leave
a more full account of that and many other remarkable
steps of the Lord’s dispensations towards me
through my life. It was then commonly said, that
Francis Gordon was a volunteer out of wickedness of
principles, and could not stay with the troop, but
was still raging and ranging to catch hiding suffering
people. Meldrum and Airly’s troops, lying
at Lanark upon the first day of March 1682, Mr. Gordon
and another wicked comrade, with their two servants
and four horses, came to Kilcaigow, two miles from
Lanark, searching for William Caigow and others, under
hiding.
“Mr. Gordon, rambling throw
the town, offered to abuse the women. At night,
they came a mile further to the Easter-Seat, to Robert
Muir’s, he being also under hiding. Gordon’s
comrade and the two servants went to bed, but he could
sleep none, roaring all night for women. When
day came, he took only his sword in his hand, and
came to Moss-platt, and some new men (who had been
in the fields all night) seeing him, they fled, and
he pursued. James Wilson, Thomas Young, and myself,
having been in a meeting all night, were lying down
in the morning. We were alarmed, thinking there
were many more than one; he pursued hard, and overtook
us. Thomas Young said, ‘Sir, what do ye
pursue us for?’ He said, ’he was come to
send us to hell.’ James Wilson said, ’that
shall not be, for we will defend ourselves.’
He said, ‘that either he or we should go to it
now.’ He run his sword furiously throw
James Wilson’s coat. James fired upon him,
but missed him. All this time he cried, ‘Damn
his soul!’ He got a shot in his head out of
a pocket-pistol, rather fit for diverting a boy than
killing such a furious, mad, brisk man, which, notwithstanding,
killed him dead. The foresaid William Caigow and
Robert Muir came to us. We searched him for papers,
and found a long scroll of sufferers’ names,
either to kill or take. I tore it all in pieces.
He had also some Popish books and bonds of money,
with one dollar, which a poor man took off the ground;
all which we put in his pocket again. Thus, he
was four miles from Lanark, and near a mile from his
comrade, seeking his own death and got it. And
for as much as we have been condemned for this, I could
never see how any one could condemn us that allows
of self-defence, which the laws both of God and nature
allow to every creature. For my own part, my
heart never smote me for this. When I saw his
blood run, I wished that all the blood of the Lord’s
stated and avowed enemies in Scotland had been in
his veins. Having such a clear call and opportunity,
I would have rejoiced to have seen it all gone out
with a gush. I have many times wondered at the
greater part of the indulged, lukewarm ministers and
professors in that time, who made more noise of murder,
when one of these enemies had been killed even in
our own defence, than of twenty of us being murdered
by them. None of these men present was challenged
for this but myself. Thomas Young thereafter
suffered at Mauchline, but was not challenged for
this; Robert Muir was banished; James Wilson outlived
the persecution; Williarn Caigow died in the Canongate
Tolbooth, in the beginning of 1685. Mr. Wodrow
is misinformed, who says that he suffered unto death.”
NOTE T.—Tolling to Service in Scotland.
In the old days of Scotland, when
persons of property (unless they happened to be non-jurors)
were as regular as their inferiors in attendance on
parochial worship, there was a kind of etiquette, in
waiting till the patron or acknowledged great man of
the parish should make his appearance. This ceremonial
was so sacred in the eyes of a parish beadle in the
Isle of Bute, that the kirk bell being out of order,
he is said to have mounted the steeple every Sunday,
to imitate with his voice the successive summonses
which its mouth of metal used to send forth.
The first part of this imitative harmony was simply
the repetition of the words Bell bell, bell bell,
two or three times in a manner as much resembling
the sound as throat of flesh could imitate throat of
iron. Bellu’m! bellu’m! was sounded
forth in a more urgent manner; but he never sent forth
the third and conclusive peal, the varied tone of
which is called in Scotland the ringing-in, until the
two principal heritors of the parish approached, when
the chime ran thus:—
Bellu’m
Belle’llum,
Bernera and Knockdow’s coming!
Bellu’m Belle’llum,
Bernera and Knockdow’s coming!
Thereby intimating that service was instantly to proceed.
[Mr. Mackinlay of Borrowstounness,
a native of Bute, states that Sir Walter Scott had
this story from Sir Adam Ferguson; but that the gallant
knight had not given the lairds’ titles correctly—the
bellman’s great men being “Craich, Drumbuie,
and Barnernie!”—1842.]
End of Volume 2