It was whilst I was listening to this story, and looking at the monument
referred to, that I saw Old Mortality engaged in his daily task of
cleaning and repairing the ornaments and epitaphs upon the tomb. His
appearance and equipment were exactly as described in the Novel. I was
very desirous to see something of a person so singular, and expected to
have done so, as he took up his quarters with the hospitable and
liberal-spirited minister. But though Mr. Walker invited him up after
dinner to partake of a glass of spirits and water, to which he was
supposed not to be very averse, yet he would not speak frankly upon the
subject of his occupation. He was in bad humour, and had, according to
his phrase, no freedom for conversation with us.
His spirit had been sorely vexed by hearing, in a certain Aberdonian
kirk, the psalmody directed by a pitch-pipe, or some similar instrument,
which was to Old Mortality the abomination of abominations. Perhaps,
after all, he did not feel himself at ease with his company; he might
suspect the questions asked by a north-country minister and a young
barrister to savour more of idle curiosity than profit. At any rate, in
the phrase of John Bunyan, Old Mortality went on his way, and I saw him
no more.
The remarkable figure and occupation of this ancient pilgrim was recalled
to my memory by an account transmitted by my friend Mr. Joseph Train,
supervisor of excise at Dumfries, to whom I owe many obligations of a
similar nature. From this, besides some other circumstances, among which
are those of the old man's death, I learned the particulars described in
the text. I am also informed, that the old palmer's family, in the third
generation, survives, and is highly respected both for talents and worth.
While these sheets were passing through the press, I received the
following communication from Mr. Train, whose undeviating kindness had,
during the intervals of laborious duty, collected its materials from an
indubitable source.
"In the course of my periodical visits to the Glenkens, I have
become intimately acquainted with Robert Paterson, a son of Old
Mortality, who lives in the little village of Balmaclellan; and
although he is now in the 70th year of his age, preserves all the
vivacity of youth--has a most retentive memory, and a mind stored
with information far above what could be expected from a person in
his station of life. To him I am indebted for the following
particulars relative to his father, and his descendants down to the
present time.
"Robert Paterson, alias Old Mortality, was the son of Walter
Paterson and Margaret Scott, who occupied the farm of Ilaggisha, in
the parish of Hawick, during nearly the first half of the eighteenth
century. Here Robert was born, in the memorable year 1715.
"Being the youngest son of a numerous family, he, at an early age,
went to serve with an elder brother, named Francis, who rented, from
Sir John Jardine of Applegarth, a small tract in Comcockle Moor,
near Lochmaben. During his residence there, he became acquainted
with Elizabeth Gray, daughter of Robert Gray, gardener to Sir John
Jardine, whom he afterwards married. His wife had been, for a
considerable time, a cook-maid to Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of
Closeburn, who procured for her husband, from the Duke of
Queensberry, an advantageous lease of the freestone quarry of
Gatelowbrigg, in the parish of Morton. Here he built a house, and
had as much land as kept a horse and cow. My informant cannot say,
with certainty, the year in which his father took up his residence
at Gatelowbrigg, but he is sure it must have been only a short time
prior to the year 1746, as, during the memorable frost in 1740, he
says his mother still resided in the service of Sir Thomas
Kirkpatrick. When the Highlanders were returning from England on
their route to Glasgow, in the year 1745-6, they plundered Mr.
Paterson's house at Gatelowbrigg, and carried him a prisoner as far
as Glenbuck, merely because he said to one of the straggling army,
that their retreat might have been easily foreseen, as the strong
arm of the Lord was evidently raised, not only against the bloody
and wicked house of Stewart, but against all who attempted to
support the abominable heresies of the Church of Rome. From this
circumstance it appears that Old Mortality had, even at that early
period of his life, imbibed the religious enthusiasm by which he
afterwards became so much distinguished.
"The religious sect called Hill-men, or Cameronians, was at that
time much noted for austerity and devotion, in imitation of Cameron,
their founder, of whose tenets Old Mortality became a most strenuous
supporter. He made frequent journeys into Galloway to attend their
conventicles, and occasionally carried with him gravestones from his
quarry at Gatelowbrigg, to keep in remembrance the righteous whose
dust had been gathered to their fathers. Old Mortality was not one
of those religious devotees, who, although one eye is seemingly
turned towards heaven, keep the other steadfastly fixed on some
sublunary object. As his enthusiasm increased, his journeys into
Galloway became more frequent; and he gradually neglected even the
common prudential duty of providing for his offspring. From about
the year 1758, he neglected wholly to return from Galloway to his
wife and five children at Gatelowbrigg, which induced her to send
her eldest son Walter, then only twelve years of age, to Galloway,
in search of his father. After traversing nearly the whole of that
extensive district, from the Nick of Benncorie to the Fell of
Barullion, he found him at last working on the Cameronian monuments,
in the old kirkyard of Kirkchrist, on the west side of the Dee,
opposite the town of Kirkcudbright. The little wanderer used all the
influence in his power to induce his father to return to his family;
but in vain. Mrs. Paterson sent even some of her female children
into Galloway in search of their father, for the same purpose of
persuading him to return home; but without any success. At last, in
the summer of 1768, she removed to the little upland village of
Balmaclellan, in the Glenkens of Galloway, where, upon the small
pittance derived from keeping a little school, she supported her
numerous family in a respectable manner.
"There is a small monumental stone in the farm of the Caldon, near
the House of the Hill, in Wigtonshire, which is highly venerated as
being the first erected, by Old Mortality, to the memory of several
persons who fell at that place in defence of their religious tenets
in the civil war, in the reign of Charles Second.
"From the Caldon, the labours of Old Mortality, in the course of
time, spread over nearly all the Lowlands of Scotland. There are few
churchyards in Ayrshire, Galloway, or Dumfries-shire, where the work
of his chisel is not yet to be seen. It is easily distinguished from
the work of any other artist by the primitive rudeness of the
emblems of death, and of the inscriptions which adorn the ill-formed
blocks of his erection. This task of repairing and erecting
gravestones, practised without fee or reward, was the only
ostensible employment of this singular person for upwards of forty
years. The door of every Cameronian's house was indeed open to him
at all times when he chose to enter, and he was gladly received as
an inmate of the family; but he did not invariably accept of these
civilities, as may be seen by the following account of his frugal
expenses, found, amongst other little papers, (some of which I have
likewise in my possession,) in his pocket-book after his death.
Gatehouse of Fleet, 4th February, 1796.
ROBERT PATERBON debtor to MARGARET CHRYSTALE.
To drye Lodginge for seven weeks,....... 0 4 1
To Four Auchlet of Ait Meal,............ 0 3 4
To 6 Lippies of Potatoes................ 0 1 3
To Lent Money at the time of Mr. Reid's
Sacrament,......................... 0 6 0
To 3 Chappins of Yell with Sandy the
Keelman,*.......................... 0 0 9
L.0 15 5
Received in part,....................... 0 10 0
Unpaid,............................... L.0 5 5
*["A well-known humourist, still alive, popularly called by the name
of Old Keelybags, who deals in the keel or chalk with which farmers
mark their flocks."]
"This statement shows the religious wanderer to have been very poor in
his old age; but he was so more by choice than through necessity, as at
the period here alluded to, his children were all comfortably situated,
and were most anxious to keep their father at home, but no entreaty could
induce him to alter his erratic way of life. He travelled from one
churchyard to another, mounted on his old white pony, till the last day
of his existence, and died, as you have described, at Bankhill, near
Lockerby, on the 14th February, 1801, in the 86th year of his age. As
soon as his body was found, intimation was sent to his sons at
Balmaclellan; but from the great depth of the snow at that time, the
letter communicating the particulars of his death was so long detained by
the way, that the remains of the pilgrim were interred before any of his
relations could arrive at Bankhill.
"The following is an exact copy of the account of his funeral
expenses,--the original of which I have in my possession:--
"Memorandum of the Funral Charges of Robert Paterson,
who dyed at Bankhill on the 14th day of February, 1801.
To a Coffon................... L.0 12 0
To Munting for do............... 0 2 8
To a Shirt for him.............. 0 5 6
To a pair of Cotten Stockings... 0 2 0
To Bread at the Founral......... 0 2 6
To Chise at ditto............... 0 3 0
To 1 pint Rume.................. 0 4 6
To I pint Whiskie............... 0 4 0
To a man going to Annam......... 0 2 0
To the grave diger.............. 0 1 0
To Linnen for a sheet to him.... 0 2 8
L.2 1 10
Taken off him when dead,.........1 7 6
L.0 14 4
"The above account is authenticated by the son of the deceased.
"My friend was prevented by indisposition from even going to Bankhill to
attend the funeral of his father, which I regret very much, as he is not
aware in what churchyard he was interred.
"For the purpose of erecting a small monument to his memory, I have made
every possible enquiry, wherever I thought there was the least chance of
finding out where Old Mortality was laid; but I have done so in vain, as
his death is not registered in the session-book of any of the
neighbouring parishes. I am sorry to think, that in all probability, this
singular person, who spent so many years of his lengthened existence in
striving with his chisel and mallet to perpetuate the memory of many less
deserving than himself, must remain even without a single stone to mark
out the resting place of his mortal remains.
"Old Mortality had three sons, Robert, Walter, and John; the former, as
has been already mentioned, lives in the village of Balmaclellan, in
comfortable circumstances, and is much respected by his neighbours.
Walter died several years ago, leaving behind him a family now
respectably situated in this point. John went to America in the year
1776, and, after various turns of fortune, settled at Baltimore."
Old Nol himself is said to have loved an innocent jest. (See Captain
Hodgson's Memoirs.) Old Mortality somewhat resembled the Protector in
this turn to festivity. Like Master Silence, he had been merry twice and
once in his time; but even his jests were of a melancholy and sepulchral
nature, and sometimes attended with inconvenience to himself, as will
appear from the following anecdote:--
The old man was at one time following his wonted occupation of repairing
the tombs of the martyrs, in the churchyard of Girthon, and the sexton of
the parish was plying his kindred task at no small distance. Some roguish
urchins were sporting near them, and by their noisy gambols disturbing
the old men in their serious occupation. The most petulant of the
juvenile party were two or three boys, grandchildren of a person well
known by the name of Cooper Climent. This artist enjoyed almost a
monopoly in Girthon and the neighbouring parishes, for making and selling
ladles, caups, bickers, bowls, spoons, cogues, and trenchers, formed of
wood, for the use of the country people. It must be noticed, that
notwithstanding the excellence of the Cooper's vessels, they were apt,
when new, to impart a reddish tinge to whatever liquor was put into them,
a circumstance not uncommon in like cases.
The grandchildren of this dealer in wooden work took it into their head
to ask the sexton, what use he could possibly make of the numerous
fragments of old coffins which were thrown up in opening new graves. "Do
you not know," said Old Mortality, "that he sells them to your
grandfather, who makes them into spoons, trenchers, bickers, bowies, and
so forth?" At this assertion, the youthful group broke up in great
confusion and disgust, on reflecting how many meals they had eaten out of
dishes which, by Old Mortality's account, were only fit to be used at a
banquet of witches or of ghoules. They carried the tidings home, when
many a dinner was spoiled by the loathing which the intelligence
imparted; for the account of the materials was supposed to explain the
reddish tinge which, even in the days of the Cooper's fame, had seemed
somewhat suspicious. The ware of Cooper Climent was rejected in horror,
much to the benefit of his rivals the muggers, who dealt in earthenware.
The man of cutty-spoon and ladle saw his trade interrupted, and learned
the reason, by his quondam customers coming upon him in wrath to return
the goods which were composed of such unhallowed materials, and demand
repayment of their money. In this disagreeable predicament, the forlorn
artist cited Old Mortality into a court of justice, where he proved that
the wood he used in his trade was that of the staves of old wine-pipes
bought from smugglers, with whom the country then abounded, a
circumstance which fully accounted for their imparting a colour to their
contents. Old Mortality himself made the fullest declaration, that he had
no other purpose in making the assertion, than to check the petulance of
the children. But it is easier to take away a good name than to restore
it. Cooper Climent's business continued to languish, and he died in a
state of poverty.
[Illustration: Frontispiece]
VOLUME I.
CHAPTER I.
Preliminary.
Why seeks he with unwearied toil
Through death's dim walks to urge his way,
Reclaim his long-asserted spoil,
And lead oblivion into day?
Langhorne.
"Most readers," says the Manuscript of Mr Pattieson, "must have witnessed
with delight the joyous burst which attends the dismissing of a
village-school on a fine summer evening. The buoyant spirit of childhood,
repressed with so much difficulty during the tedious hours of discipline,
may then be seen to explode, as it were, in shout, and song, and frolic,
as the little urchins join in groups on their play-ground, and arrange
their matches of sport for the evening. But there is one individual who
partakes of the relief afforded by the moment of dismission, whose
feelings are not so obvious to the eye of the spectator, or so apt to
receive his sympathy. I mean the teacher himself, who, stunned with the
hum, and suffocated with the closeness of his school-room, has spent the
whole day (himself against a host) in controlling petulance, exciting
indifference to action, striving to enlighten stupidity, and labouring to
soften obstinacy; and whose very powers of intellect have been confounded
by hearing the same dull lesson repeated a hundred times by rote, and
only varied by the various blunders of the reciters. Even the flowers of
classic genius, with which his solitary fancy is most gratified, have
been rendered degraded, in his imagination, by their connexion with
tears, with errors, and with punishment; so that the Eclogues of Virgil
and Odes of Horace are each inseparably allied in association with the
sullen figure and monotonous recitation of some blubbering school-boy. If
to these mental distresses are added a delicate frame of body, and a mind
ambitious of some higher distinction than that of being the tyrant of
childhood, the reader may have some slight conception of the relief which
a solitary walk, in the cool of a fine summer evening, affords to the
head which has ached, and the nerves which have been shattered, for so
many hours, in plying the irksome task of public instruction.
"To me these evening strolls have been the happiest hours of an unhappy
life; and if any gentle reader shall hereafter find pleasure in perusing
these lucubrations, I am not unwilling he should know, that the plan of
them has been usually traced in those moments, when relief from toil and
clamour, combined with the quiet scenery around me, has disposed my mind
to the task of composition.
"My chief haunt, in these hours of golden leisure, is the banks of the
small stream, which, winding through a 'lone vale of green bracken,'
passes in front of the village school-house of Gandercleugh. For the
first quarter of a mile, perhaps, I may be disturbed from my meditations,
in order to return the scrape, or doffed bonnet, of such stragglers among
my pupils as fish for trouts or minnows in the little brook, or seek
rushes and wild-flowers by its margin. But, beyond the space I have
mentioned, the juvenile anglers do not, after sunset, voluntarily extend
their excursions. The cause is, that farther up the narrow valley, and in
a recess which seems scooped out of the side of the steep heathy bank,
there is a deserted burial-ground, which the little cowards are fearful
of approaching in the twilight. To me, however, the place has an
inexpressible charm. It has been long the favourite termination of my
walks, and, if my kind patron forgets not his promise, will (and probably
at no very distant day) be my final resting-place after my mortal
pilgrimage. [Note: Note, by Mr Jedediah Cleishbotham.--That I kept my
plight in this melancholy matter with my deceased and lamented friend,
appeareth from a handsome headstone, erected at my proper charges in this
spot, bearing the name and calling of Peter Pattieson, with the date of
his nativity and sepulture; together also with a testimony of his merits,
attested by myself, as his superior and patron.--J. C.]
"It is a spot which possesses all the solemnity of feeling attached to a
burial-ground, without exciting those of a more unpleasing description.
Having been very little used for many years, the few hillocks which rise
above the level plain are covered with the same short velvet turf. The
monuments, of which there are not above seven or eight, are half sunk in
the ground, and overgrown with moss. No newly-erected tomb disturbs the
sober serenity of our reflections by reminding us of recent calamity, and
no rank-springing grass forces upon our imagination the recollection,
that it owes its dark luxuriance to the foul and festering remnants of
mortality which ferment beneath. The daisy which sprinkles the sod, and
the harebell which hangs over it, derive their pure nourishment from the
dew of heaven, and their growth impresses us with no degrading or
disgusting recollections. Death has indeed been here, and its traces are
before us; but they are softened and deprived of their horror by our
distance from the period when they have been first impressed. Those who
sleep beneath are only connected with us by the reflection, that they
have once been what we now are, and that, as their relics are now
identified with their mother earth, ours shall, at some future period,
undergo the same transformation.
"Yet, although the moss has been collected on the most modern of these
humble tombs during four generations of mankind, the memory of some of
those who sleep beneath them is still held in reverent remembrance. It is
true, that, upon the largest, and, to an antiquary, the most interesting
monument of the group, which bears the effigies of a doughty knight in
his hood of mail, with his shield hanging on his breast, the armorial
bearings are defaced by time, and a few worn-out letters may be read at
the pleasure of the decipherer, Dns. Johan--de Hamel,--or Johan--de
Lamel--And it is also true, that of another tomb, richly sculptured with
an ornamental cross, mitre, and pastoral staff, tradition can only aver,
that a certain nameless bishop lies interred there. But upon other two
stones which lie beside, may still be read in rude prose, and ruder
rhyme, the history of those who sleep beneath them. They belong, we are
assured by the epitaph, to the class of persecuted Presbyterians who
afforded a melancholy subject for history in the times of Charles II. and
his successor. [Note: James, Seventh King of Scotland of that name, and
Second according to the numeration of the Kings of England.--J. C.] In
returning from the battle of Pentland Hills, a party of the insurgents
had been attacked in this glen by a small detachment of the King's
troops, and three or four either killed in the skirmish, or shot after
being made prisoners, as rebels taken with arms in their hands. The
peasantry continued to attach to the tombs of those victims of prelacy an
honour which they do not render to more splendid mausoleums; and, when
they point them out to their sons, and narrate the fate of the sufferers,
usually conclude, by exhorting them to be ready, should times call for
it, to resist to the death in the cause of civil and religious liberty,
like their brave forefathers.
"Although I am far from venerating the peculiar tenets asserted by those
who call themselves the followers of those men, and whose intolerance and
narrow-minded bigotry are at least as conspicuous as their devotional
zeal, yet it is without depreciating the memory of those sufferers, many
of whom united the independent sentiments of a Hampden with the suffering
zeal of a Hooper or Latimer. On the other hand, it would be unjust to
forget, that many even of those who had been most active in crushing what
they conceived the rebellious and seditious spirit of those unhappy
wanderers, displayed themselves, when called upon to suffer for their
political and religious opinions, the same daring and devoted zeal,
tinctured, in their case, with chivalrous loyalty, as in the former with
republican enthusiasm. It has often been remarked of the Scottish
character, that the stubbornness with which it is moulded shows most to
advantage in adversity, when it seems akin to the native sycamore of
their hills, which scorns to be biassed in its mode of growth even by the
influence of the prevailing wind, but, shooting its branches with equal
boldness in every direction, shows no weather-side to the storm, and may
be broken, but can never be bended. It must be understood that I speak of
my countrymen as they fall under my own observation. When in foreign
countries, I have been informed that they are more docile. But it is time
to return from this digression.
"One summer evening, as in a stroll, such as I have described, I
approached this deserted mansion of the dead, I was somewhat surprised to
hear sounds distinct from those which usually soothe its solitude, the
gentle chiding, namely, of the brook, and the sighing of the wind in the
boughs of three gigantic ash-trees, which mark the cemetery. The clink of
a hammer was, on this occasion, distinctly heard; and I entertained some
alarm that a march-dike, long meditated by the two proprietors whose
estates were divided by my favourite brook, was about to be drawn up the
glen, in order to substitute its rectilinear deformity for the graceful
winding of the natural boundary. [Note: I deem it fitting that the reader
should be apprised that this limitary boundary between the conterminous
heritable property of his honour the Laird of Gandercleugh, and his
honour the Laird of Gusedub, was to have been in fashion an agger, or
rather murus of uncemented granite, called by the vulgar a drystane dyke,
surmounted, or coped, _cespite viridi_, i.e. with a sodturf. Truly their
honours fell into discord concerning two roods of marshy ground, near the
cove called the Bedral's Beild; and the controversy, having some years
bygone been removed from before the judges of the land, (with whom it
abode long,) even unto the Great City of London and the Assembly of the
Nobles therein, is, as I may say, adhuc in pendente.--J. C.] As I
approached, I was agreeably undeceived. An old man was seated upon the
monument of the slaughtered presbyterians, and busily employed in
deepening, with his chisel, the letters of the inscription, which,
announcing, in scriptural language, the promised blessings of futurity to
be the lot of the slain, anathematized the murderers with corresponding
violence. A blue bonnet of unusual dimensions covered the grey hairs of
the pious workman. His dress was a large old-fashioned coat of the coarse
cloth called hoddingrey, usually worn by the elder peasants, with
waistcoat and breeches of the same; and the whole suit, though still in
decent repair, had obviously seen a train of long service. Strong clouted
shoes, studded with hobnails, and gramoches or leggins, made of thick
black cloth, completed his equipment. Beside him, fed among the graves a
pony, the companion of his journey, whose extreme whiteness, as well as
its projecting bones and hollow eyes, indicated its antiquity. It was
harnessed in the most simple manner, with a pair of branks, a hair
tether, or halter, and a sunk, or cushion of straw, instead of bridle and
saddle. A canvass pouch hung around the neck of the animal, for the
purpose, probably, of containing the rider's tools, and any thing else he
might have occasion to carry with him. Although I had never seen the old
man before, yet from the singularity of his employment, and the style of
his equipage, I had no difficulty in recognising a religious itinerant
whom I had often heard talked of, and who was known in various parts of
Scotland by the title of Old Mortality.
[Illustration: The Graveyard--006]
"Where this man was born, or what was his real name, I have never been
able to learn; nor are the motives which made him desert his home, and
adopt the erratic mode of life which he pursued, known to me except very
generally. According to the belief of most people, he was a native of
either the county of Dumfries or Galloway, and lineally descended from
some of those champions of the Covenant, whose deeds and sufferings were
his favourite theme. He is said to have held, at one period of his life,
a small moorland farm; but, whether from pecuniary losses, or domestic
misfortune, he had long renounced that and every other gainful calling.
In the language of Scripture, he left his house, his home, and his
kindred, and wandered about until the day of his death, a period of
nearly thirty years.
"During this long pilgrimage, the pious enthusiast regulated his circuit
so as annually to visit the graves of the unfortunate Covenanters, who
suffered by the sword, or by the executioner, during the reigns of the
two last monarchs of the Stewart line. These are most numerous in the
western districts of Ayr, Galloway, and Dumfries; but they are also to be
found in other parts of Scotland, wherever the fugitives had fought, or
fallen, or suffered by military or civil execution. Their tombs are often
apart from all human habitation, in the remote moors and wilds to which
the wanderers had fled for concealment. But wherever they existed, Old
Mortality was sure to visit them when his annual round brought them
within his reach. In the most lonely recesses of the mountains, the
moor-fowl shooter has been often surprised to find him busied in cleaning
the moss from the grey stones, renewing with his chisel the half-defaced
inscriptions, and repairing the emblems of death with which these simple
monuments are usually adorned. Motives of the most sincere, though
fanciful devotion, induced the old man to dedicate so many years of
existence to perform this tribute to the memory of the deceased warriors
of the church. He considered himself as fulfilling a sacred duty, while
renewing to the eyes of posterity the decaying emblems of the zeal and
sufferings of their forefathers, and thereby trimming, as it were, the
beacon-light, which was to warn future generations to defend their
religion even unto blood.
"In all his wanderings, the old pilgrim never seemed to need, or was
known to accept, pecuniary assistance. It is true, his wants were very
few; for wherever he went, he found ready quarters in the house of some
Cameronian of his own sect, or of some other religious person. The
hospitality which was reverentially paid to him he always acknowledged,
by repairing the gravestones (if there existed any) belonging to the
family or ancestors of his host. As the wanderer was usually to be seen
bent on this pious task within the precincts of some country churchyard,
or reclined on the solitary tombstone among the heath, disturbing the
plover and the black-cock with the clink of his chisel and mallet, with
his old white pony grazing by his side, he acquired, from his converse
among the dead, the popular appellation of Old Mortality.
"The character of such a man could have in it little connexion even with
innocent gaiety. Yet, among those of his own religious persuasion, he is
reported to have been cheerful. The descendants of persecutors, or those
whom he supposed guilty of entertaining similar tenets, and the scoffers
at religion by whom he was sometimes assailed, he usually termed the
generation of vipers. Conversing with others, he was grave and
sententious, not without a cast of severity. But he is said never to have
been observed to give way to violent passion, excepting upon one
occasion, when a mischievous truant-boy defaced with a stone the nose of
a cherub's face, which the old man was engaged in retouching. I am in
general a sparer of the rod, notwithstanding the maxim of Solomon, for
which school-boys have little reason to thank his memory; but on this
occasion I deemed it proper to show that I did not hate the child.--But I
must return to the circumstances attending my first interview with this
interesting enthusiast.
"In accosting Old Mortality, I did not fail to pay respect to his years
and his principles, beginning my address by a respectful apology for
interrupting his labours. The old man intermitted the operation of the
chisel, took off his spectacles and wiped them, then, replacing them on
his nose, acknowledged my courtesy by a suitable return. Encouraged by
his affability, I intruded upon him some questions concerning the
sufferers on whose monument he was now employed. To talk of the exploits
of the Covenanters was the delight, as to repair their monuments was the
business, of his life. He was profuse in the communication of all the
minute information which he had collected concerning them, their wars,
and their wanderings. One would almost have supposed he must have been
their contemporary, and have actually beheld the passages which he
related, so much had he identified his feelings and opinions with theirs,
and so much had his narratives the circumstantiality of an eye-witness.
"'We,' he said, in a tone of exultation,--'we are the only true whigs.
Carnal men have assumed that triumphant appellation, following him whose
kingdom is of this world. Which of them would sit six hours on a wet
hill-side to hear a godly sermon? I trow an hour o't wad staw them. They
are ne'er a hair better than them that shamena to take upon themsells the
persecuting name of bludethirsty tories. Self-seekers all of them,
strivers after wealth, power, and worldly ambition, and forgetters alike
of what has been dree'd and done by the mighty men who stood in the gap
in the great day of wrath. Nae wonder they dread the accomplishment of
what was spoken by the mouth of the worthy Mr Peden, (that precious
servant of the Lord, none of whose words fell to the ground,) that the
French monzies [Note: Probably monsieurs. It would seem that this was
spoken during the apprehensions of invason from France.--Publishers.]
sall rise as fast in the glens of Ayr, and the kenns of Galloway, as ever
the Highlandmen did in 1677. And now they are gripping to the bow and to
the spear, when they suld be mourning for a sinfu' land and a broken
covenant.'
"Soothing the old man by letting his peculiar opinions pass without
contradiction, and anxious to prolong conversation with so singular a
character, I prevailed upon him to accept that hospitality, which Mr
Cleishbotham is always willing to extend to those who need it. In our way
to the schoolmaster's house, we called at the Wallace Inn, where I was
pretty certain I should find my patron about that hour of the evening.
After a courteous interchange of civilities, Old Mortality was, with
difficulty, prevailed upon to join his host in a single glass of liquor,
and that on condition that he should be permitted to name the pledge,
which he prefaced with a grace of about five minutes, and then, with
bonnet doffed and eyes uplifted, drank to the memory of those heroes of
the Kirk who had first uplifted her banner upon the mountains. As no
persuasion could prevail on him to extend his conviviality to a second
cup, my patron accompanied him home, and accommodated him in the
Prophet's Chamber, as it is his pleasure to call the closet which holds a
spare bed, and which is frequently a place of retreat for the poor
traveller. [Note: He might have added, and for the rich also; since, I
laud my stars, the great of the earth have also taken harbourage in my
poor domicile. And, during the service of my hand-maiden, Dorothy, who
was buxom and comely of aspect, his Honour the Laird of Smackawa, in his
peregrinations to and from the metropolis, was wont to prefer my
Prophet's Chamber even to the sanded chamber of dais in the Wallace Inn,
and to bestow a mutchkin, as he would jocosely say, to obtain the freedom
of the house, but, in reality, to assure himself of my company during the
evening.--J. C.]
"The next day I took leave of Old Mortality, who seemed affected by the
unusual attention with which I had cultivated his acquaintance and
listened to his conversation. After he had mounted, not without
difficulty, the old white pony, he took me by the hand and said, 'The
blessing of our Master be with you, young man! My hours are like the ears
of the latter harvest, and your days are yet in the spring; and yet you
may be gathered into the garner of mortality before me, for the sickle of
death cuts down the green as oft as the ripe, and there is a colour in
your cheek, that, like the bud of the rose, serveth oft to hide the worm
of corruption. Wherefore labour as one who knoweth not when his master
calleth. And if it be my lot to return to this village after ye are gane
hame to your ain place, these auld withered hands will frame a stane of
memorial, that your name may not perish from among the people.'
"I thanked Old Mortality for his kind intentions in my behalf, and heaved
a sigh, not, I think, of regret so much as of resignation, to think of
the chance that I might soon require his good offices. But though, in all
human probability, he did not err in supposing that my span of life may
be abridged in youth, he had over-estimated the period of his own
pilgrimage on earth. It is now some years since he has been missed in all
his usual haunts, while moss, lichen, and deer-hair, are fast covering
those stones, to cleanse which had been the business of his life. About
the beginning of this century he closed his mortal toils, being found on
the highway near Lockerby, in Dumfries-shire, exhausted and just
expiring. The old white pony, the companion of all his wanderings, was
standing by the side of his dying master. There was found about his
person a sum of money sufficient for his decent interment, which serves
to show that his death was in no ways hastened by violence or by want.
The common people still regard his memory with great respect; and many
are of opinion, that the stones which he repaired will not again require
the assistance of the chisel. They even assert, that on the tombs where
the manner of the martyrs' murder is recorded, their names have remained
indelibly legible since the death of Old Mortality, while those of the
persecutors, sculptured on the same monuments, have been entirely
defaced. It is hardly necessary to say that this is a fond imagination,
and that, since the time of the pious pilgrim, the monuments which were
the objects of his care are hastening, like all earthly memorials, into
ruin or decay.
"My readers will of course understand, that in embodying into one
compressed narrative many of the anecdotes which I had the advantage of
deriving from Old Mortality, I have been far from adopting either his
style, his opinions, or even his facts, so far as they appear to have
been distorted by party prejudice. I have endeavoured to correct or
verify them from the most authentic sources of tradition, afforded by the
representatives of either party.
"On the part of the Presbyterians, I have consulted such moorland farmers
from the western districts, as, by the kindness of their landlords, or
otherwise, have been able, during the late general change of property, to
retain possession of the grazings on which their grandsires fed their
flocks and herds. I must own, that of late days, I have found this a
limited source of information. I have, therefore, called in the
supplementary aid of those modest itinerants, whom the scrupulous
civility of our ancestors denominated travelling merchants, but whom, of
late, accommodating ourselves in this as in more material particulars, to
the feelings and sentiments of our more wealthy neighbours, we have
learned to call packmen or pedlars. To country weavers travelling in
hopes to get rid of their winter web, but more especially to tailors,
who, from their sedentary profession, and the necessity, in our country,
of exercising it by temporary residence in the families by whom they are
employed, may be considered as possessing a complete register of rural
traditions, I have been indebted for many illustrations of the narratives
of Old Mortality, much in the taste and spirit of the original.
"I had more difficulty in finding materials for correcting the tone of
partiality which evidently pervaded those stores of traditional learning,
in order that I might be enabled to present an unbiassed picture of the
manners of that unhappy period, and, at the same time, to do justice to
the merits of both parties. But I have been enabled to qualify the
narratives of Old Mortality and his Cameronian friends, by the reports of
more than one descendant of ancient and honourable families, who,
themselves decayed into the humble vale of life, yet look proudly back on
the period when their ancestors fought and fell in behalf of the exiled
house of Stewart. I may even boast right reverend authority on the same
score; for more than one nonjuring bishop, whose authority and income
were upon as apostolical a scale as the greatest abominator of Episcopacy
could well desire, have deigned, while partaking of the humble cheer of
the Wallace Inn, to furnish me with information corrective of the facts
which I learned from others. There are also here and there a laird or
two, who, though they shrug their shoulders, profess no great shame in
their fathers having served in the persecuting squadrons of Earlshall and
Claverhouse. From the gamekeepers of these gentlemen, an office the most
apt of any other to become hereditary in such families, I have also
contrived to collect much valuable information.
"Upon the whole, I can hardly fear, that, at this time, in describing the
operation which their opposite principles produced upon the good and bad
men of both parties, I can be suspected of meaning insult or injustice to
either. If recollection of former injuries, extra-loyalty, and contempt
and hatred of their adversaries, produced rigour and tyranny in the one
party, it will hardly be denied, on the other hand, that, if the zeal for
God's house did not eat up the conventiclers, it devoured at least, to
imitate the phrase of Dryden, no small portion of their loyalty, sober
sense, and good breeding. We may safely hope, that the souls of the brave
and sincere on either side have long looked down with surprise and pity
upon the ill-appreciated motives which caused their mutual hatred and
hostility, while in this valley of darkness, blood, and tears. Peace to
their memory! Let us think of them as the heroine of our only Scottish
tragedy entreats her lord to think of her departed sire:--
'O rake not up the ashes of our fathers!
Implacable resentment was their crime,
And grievous has the expiation been.'"
CHAPTER II.
Summon an hundred horse, by break of day,
To wait our pleasure at the castle gates.
Douglas.
Under the reign of the last Stewarts, there was an anxious wish on the
part of government to counteract, by every means in their power, the
strict or puritanical spirit which had been the chief characteristic of
the republican government, and to revive those feudal institutions which
united the vassal to the liege lord, and both to the crown. Frequent
musters and assemblies of the people, both for military exercise and for
sports and pastimes, were appointed by authority. The interference, in
the latter case, was impolitic, to say the least; for, as usual on such
occasions, the consciences which were at first only scrupulous, became
confirmed in their opinions, instead of giving way to the terrors of
authority; and the youth of both sexes, to whom the pipe and tabor in
England, or the bagpipe in Scotland, would have been in themselves an
irresistible temptation, were enabled to set them at defiance, from the
proud consciousness that they were, at the same time, resisting an act of
council. To compel men to dance and be merry by authority, has rarely
succeeded even on board of slave-ships, where it was formerly sometimes
attempted by way of inducing the wretched captives to agitate their limbs
and restore the circulation, during the few minutes they were permitted
to enjoy the fresh air upon deck. The rigour of the strict Calvinists
increased, in proportion to the wishes of the government that it should
be relaxed. A judaical observance of the Sabbath--a supercilious
condemnation of all manly pastimes and harmless recreations, as well as
of the profane custom of promiscuous dancing, that is, of men and women
dancing together in the same party (for I believe they admitted that
the exercise might be inoffensive if practised by the parties
separately)--distinguishing those who professed a more than ordinary
share of sanctity, they discouraged, as far as lay in their power, even
the ancient wappen-schaws, as they were termed, when the feudal array of
the county was called out, and each crown-vassal was required to appear
with such muster of men and armour as he was bound to make by his fief,
and that under high statutory penalties. The Covenanters were the more
jealous of those assemblies, as the lord lieutenants and sheriffs under
whom they were held had instructions from the government to spare no
pains which might render them agreeable to the young men who were thus
summoned together, upon whom the military exercise of the morning, and
the sports which usually closed the evening, might naturally be supposed
to have a seductive effect.
The preachers and proselytes of the more rigid presbyterians laboured,
therefore, by caution, remonstrance, and authority, to diminish the
attendance upon these summonses, conscious that in doing so, they
lessened not only the apparent, but the actual strength of the
government, by impeding the extension of that esprit de corps which soon
unites young men who are in the habit of meeting together for manly
sport, or military exercise. They, therefore, exerted themselves
earnestly to prevent attendance on these occasions by those who could
find any possible excuse for absence, and were especially severe upon
such of their hearers as mere curiosity led to be spectators, or love of
exercise to be partakers, of the array and the sports which took place.
Such of the gentry as acceded to these doctrines were not always,
however, in a situation to be ruled by them. The commands of the law were
imperative; and the privy council, who administered the executive power
in Scotland, were severe in enforcing the statutory penalties against the
crown-vassals who did not appear at the periodical wappen-schaw. The
landholders were compelled, therefore, to send their sons, tenants, and
vassals to the rendezvous, to the number of horses, men, and spears, at
which they were rated; and it frequently happened, that notwithstanding
the strict charge of their elders, to return as soon as the formal
inspection was over, the young men-at-arms were unable to resist the
temptation of sharing in the sports which succeeded the muster, or to
avoid listening to the prayers read in the churches on these occasions,
and thus, in the opinion of their repining parents, meddling with the
accursed thing which is an abomination in the sight of the Lord.
The sheriff of the county of Lanark was holding the wappen-schaw of a
wild district, called the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, on a haugh or level
plain, near to a royal borough, the name of which is no way essential to
my story, on the morning of the 5th of May, 1679, when our narrative
commences. When the musters had been made, and duly reported, the young
men, as was usual, were to mix in various sports, of which the chief was
to shoot at the popinjay, an ancient game formerly practised with
archery, but at this period with fire-arms.
[Note: Festival of the Popinjay. The Festival of the Popinjay is
still, I believe, practised at Maybole, in Ayrshire. The following
passage in the history of the Somerville family, suggested the
scenes in the text. The author of that curious manuscript thus
celebrates his father's demeanour at such an assembly.
"Having now passed his infancie, in the tenth year of his age, he
was by his grandfather putt to the grammar school, ther being then
att the toune of Delserf a very able master that taught the grammar,
and fitted boyes for the colledge. Dureing his educating in this
place, they had then a custome every year to solemnize the first
Sunday of May with danceing about a May-pole, fyreing of pieces, and
all manner of ravelling then in use. Ther being at that tyme feu or
noe merchants in this pettie village, to furnish necessaries for the
schollars sports, this youth resolves to provide himself elsewhere,
so that he may appear with the bravest. In order to this, by break
of day he ryses and goes to Hamiltoune, and there bestowes all the
money that for a long tyme before he had gotten from his freinds, or
had otherwayes purchased, upon ribbones of diverse coloures, a new
hatt and gloves. But in nothing he bestowed his money more
liberallie than upon gunpowder, a great quantitie whereof he buyes
for his owne use, and to supplie the wantes of his comerades; thus
furnished with these commodities, but ane empty purse, he returnes
to Delserf by seven a clock, (haveing travelled that Sabbath morning
above eight myles,) puttes on his cloathes and new hatt, flying with
ribbones of all culloures; and in this equipage, with his little
phizie (fusee) upon his shoulder, he marches to the church yaird,
where the May-pole was sett up, and the solemnitie of that day was
to be kept. There first at the foot-ball he equalled any one that
played; but in handleing his piece, in chargeing and dischargeing,
he was so ready, and shott so near the marke, that he farre
surpassed all his fellow schollars, and became a teacher of that art
to them before the thretteenth year of his oune age. And really, I
have often admired his dexterity in this, both at the exercizeing of
his soulders, and when for recreatione. I have gone to the gunning
with him when I was but a stripeling myself; and albeit that
passetyme was the exercize I delighted most in, yet could I never
attaine to any perfectione comparable to him. This dayes sport being
over, he had the applause of all the spectatores, the kyndnesse of
his fellow-condisciples, and the favour of the whole inhabitants of
that little village."]
This was the figure of a bird, decked with party-coloured feathers, so as
to resemble a popinjay or parrot. It was suspended to a pole, and served
for a mark, at which the competitors discharged their fusees and
carabines in rotation, at the distance of sixty or seventy paces. He
whose ball brought down the mark, held the proud title of Captain of the
Popinjay for the remainder of the day, and was usually escorted in
triumph to the most reputable change-house in the neighbourhood, where
the evening was closed with conviviality, conducted under his auspices,
and, if he was able to sustain it, at his expense.
