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THE echoes of the rebellion
of 1745, had scarcely ceased from the highland hill, and the new order
by which the feudal system had been replaced had scarcely begun to
function, when in 1764 and on either the easterly or the westerly "half
pleuch of Knocksoul," our grandfather Robert Farquharson was born. He
would seem therefore to be representative of the last generation of
Scottish men born into the old conditions. These conditions, as has been
stated, implied the necessity of the co-operation of two independent
tenants in operating one only plough, probably under obligation, in
terns of their respective leases, to contribute two men and six oxen or
their tractive equivalent in working the two farms fairly, justly and
harmoniously as between themselves, awl yet without unity of interest.
Of my great grandfather
who seems to have been the grandson of The Fairy Doctor I know nothing
further than what has been already stated, except that he had two son;
besides my Grandfather, one of whom, whose name I have forgotten, was
the father of my father's cousins, William Farquharson of the Newton of
Melguni, Donald Farquharson late of Tollyhill, and Mrs. John Forbes of
Kinhattoch, who was the mother of Harry Forbes late of the Township of
Tilbury East. His third son Andrew went to Jamaica as a young man, where
he seemed to proper, but in a few years took ill and died.
The time of my
grandfather's birth was momentous in the history of the world. In March
of the next succeeding year was passed by the British government the
unfortunate Stamp Act, which though only four months in operation became
the occasion, though not the cause, of lighting a train of events that
shook the world. First came the rebellion 1776 and the secession of the
Thirteen American Colonies. From that rebellion issued the spark that
produced the French Revolution whose repercussion roused to activity the
awakening intelligence of the British people, among whom had already
commenced murmerings of discontent. In earlier times the conflict for
liberty in Great Britain had been carried on exclusively by the nobles
against the king. Now had come to be heard the voice of the more wealthy
of the untitled classes, who, with the extension of commerce and
enterprise consequent largely on the introduction of laboursaving
machinery, had been rapidly increasing in numbers, wealth and influence.
On these had been falling increasingly the burden of taxation, and
already they were knocking at the door of the House of Commons, loudly
demanding a voice in its deliberations.
When the new inventions
of the period are considered, the consequent growth of commerce is not
to be wondered at, nor the increase of wealth amongst the manufacturing
and commercial classes. In 1763, came into use Wedgewood's thermometer
and his greatly improved methods in pottery. 1767 saw both Hargrave's
spinning jenny and Arkwright's spinning machine; 1768 Watt's improved
steam engine and Crompton's "mule," and 1779 Cartwright's power loom
which, with the aid of the spinning machines, revolutionized the textile
industries of the country and ultimately of the world.
At the first the French
revolutionary method was applauded, and even from Scotland, whose own
proverb, "Better the ill that's kent than the guid that's unkent,"
proclaims her caution, came approval, in the voice of her greatest poet,
"Syne let us pray that
auld England may
"Sure plant this far-famed tree, man
"And blythe we'll sing and hail the day
"That gives us liberty, man."
As the French Revolution
progressed, however, it became evident to the British people that the
much extolled liberty that is absolute, means the negation of liberty
that is real. They therefore wisely resolved thenceforth to avoid the
short and bloody way of revolution, but with more determination than
theretofore, to assert and maintain their rights and liberties as
citizens, depending upon the slower process of evolution which had been
found effective in the past.
I have no reason to
believe that this agitation touched the district of Cromar or the upper
reaches of the Dee. Newspapers were so dear that the subscription price
of a weekly was beyond the purse of the common people. At that time no
one in a parish, other than perhaps the parish minister or a resident
proprietor, could be a regular subscriber to even a weekly sheet. Of the
doings of yesterday in the distant antipodes we read today at our
breakfast tables, and a common incident interests simultaneously the
whole civilized world. The modern impact is instantaneous. To greater
and more sudden and concerted heights rise the consequent tides. These,
unless controlled by the voice that quelled the waves of Galilee, might
well overwhelm the world in disaster.
It is well perhaps for
humanity that the faculty for cooperation, as well as scientific
attainment and equipment, have been in the past denied to immature and
non-progressive peoples. The question at to whether or not the new
powers of which we boast today, like a sharp tool in the hand of an
irresponsible child, have been acquired by us ahead of the wisdom and
moral character necessary for their proper and enlightened use without
endangering our own safety or that of our neighbours, still awaits the
answer of futurity.
THE McPHERSON ROOT OF THE
FAMILY TREE
Of my grandfather's
childhood and youth I have little or no information except that as a
young man he left his home to find employment in the service of a Col.
McPherson who owned a small estate in the County of Perth near
Blairgowrie. There he met and married Elizabeth McPherson a distant
relative of his employer. Her mother had been the daughter of a family
of some standing in the community, but she in her youth had eloped with,
and in the matrimonial bond accepted the lowly estate and fortune of an
employee of her father. Of her the story is told that when a little
girl, in company with her father on a neighbouring hill, the two were
met by Prince Charlie—probably at the commencement of the
insurrection,—accompanied by Lochiel and Cluny McPherson, a famous local
rebel with whom her father was well acquainted, besides a number more of
the Prince's followers. Cluny, on meeting her father, saluted him with
the question, "How do you like to see me now," to which her father
replied, "I always like to see you, but I should have preferred that you
had remained loyal." That answer, Mrs. Duguid thinks, had reference to
the fact that Cluny, who had been an officer in the King's army, had
broken his oath in joining the Prince. Be that as it may, Lochiel
shouted, "Shoot the old fellow!" "No," replied Cluny, "He has only given
an honest answer to my question." The Prince was meantime taking some
notice of the little girl, who, Mrs. Duguid says, had some berries in a
coat, from which, at her father's suggestion, she handed some to the
Prince. Before parting, the Prince, drawing aside his Highland plaid and
showing the girl the star on his coat, bade her tell her grand-children
whien she became an old woman, that she had seen "The Prince."
When in the employ of
Colonel McPherson, grandfather in a humble way came in contact with some
interesting characters who made occasional calls on his employer. One of
these was the famous Captain Dhu (or dark) McPherson, whose story is
told by James Grant in his "Legends of The Black Watch." I have no means
of checking the particular of Grant's extraordinary tale, except its
concluding part, the terrible recital of the last tragic scene of the
life of his redoubtable hero. The Captain had invited a number of his
friends to accompany him on a hare-hunting expedition on a neighbouring
Hill. With the intention of renewing their sport on the following day
the party had sought shelter for the, night in a rude sheiling high up
on the bleak mountain-side. The party, with gillies and attendants
numbered some twenty souls, who, together with their dogs, were crowded
into this small retreat. During the night there arose a severe
thunder-storm—something extremely rare in Scotland, in the
winter-time,—the sheiling was struck by lightning, and the whole party,
men and dogs, perished.
To this point my father's
report corresponds exactly with Grant's. I am therefore of the opinion
that there is no doubt as to the fact of the tragedy in its main
essentials. My father remembered hearing the story discussed between his
father and his maternal aunt, each version coloured with personal
predilections. His aunt held firmly to the theory most common at the
time, also that of the novelist in whose telling the story loses nothing
of its horror, that Captain Dhu had sold himself to the Devil and that
the assembling of the victims of the Christmas tragedy was part of his
obligation in terms of that satanic transaction. That view, according to
my father, was stoutly opposed by my grandfather, which fact, coupled
with much else that I have heard about him, leads me to believe that he
was more free than usual from the superstitions of his time. My own
father's entire freedom from superstition is also confirmatory of that
belief.
"THE PARKS."
Relations between my
grandfather and the Colonel appear to have been most cordial and
mutually satisfactory, but grandfather had heard that "The Parks of
Coldstone" was being offered for rent at what he deemed a bargain, and
he determined to make an offer for it. His employer, however, like most
of his class at the time, seems to have been living beyond his income,
and being desirous to return to the army where he would be able to live
at less expense, made him an offer of increased pay if he would remain
and oversee the farm in his absence. Tempted by this fair offer
grandfather consented to remain. But, unknown to the Colonel some new
regulation had been made which barred his return to the army. Meantime
the favourable offer for the farm of The Parks had been withdrawn, and
grandfather found it necessary to negotiate a lease on terms less
favourable to the tenant. It was a life lease, and the rent, as I
remember it, was eighty pounds a year, which for that time was surely
exorbitant. The farm contained about 100 acres, but at that time the
part that could be cultivated must have been much less.
The exact year in which the lease commenced I have not been able to
discover, but it could not have been earlier than 1793, because in that
year is dated Rev. Robt. Farquharson's contribution to "The Old
Statistical Account of Scotland," from which it is Iearned that the farm
was then, as it had been for fourteen years previously, untenanted and
laid out in grass parks (whence, by the way, the farm derived its name
which had originally been simply "Coldstone").
So rapid has been the
march of improvement during the period since intervening that it is
difficult for the modern mind to realize how primitive were the
conditions then obtaining. In extract from Graham's "Social life of
Scotland in the eighteenth century," already referred to, gives an idea
of the conditions throughout Scotland generally at that time, or a
little before, and not unlikely fairly describe many farm homes of that
day.
"The house's of the
tenantry were very little better, in most cases than those of their
ploughmen and herds, from whom the farmers differed little in egress,
manners or rank. Even in Ayrshire, till long after the middle of the
century, they were little removed from hovels, with clay floor, open
hearths, sometimes in the middle of the room, with walls seven feet
high, yet three feet thick, built of stones and mud. Only the better
class of farmers' houses had two rooms, the house getting scanty light
by two tiny windows, the upper part (only, glazed with small panes of
bottle glass. It had been the practice in former times—but dying out in
the early part of the century—for the out-going tenant to remove from
the farm-house all the beams and rafters which he himself had put in;
and consequently his successor came, not to a home, but to a ruin
consisting of four broken walls, and had virtually to rebuild the house,
which he, in turn, dismantled when it became his turn to leave. In these
dismal, ill-lighted abodes, when night set in, the fitful flare of the
peat fire was all the light they had, where the ruffles or split roots
of fir found in the peat moss were only lit for set purposes such a:
family worship."
From Burns Vision, he
quotes in a foot-note, a verse illustrative of the dwellings above
described:---
``There lanely by the
ingle cheek
``Ì sat and eyed the spewing reek
``That filled with host-provoking smeek
``The auld clay biggin`
``And heard the restless rattans squeek
``About the riggin`
From Rev. Robt. Farquharson;s contribution to ``The Old Statistical
Account of Scotland`` we may safely infer that by 1793 the retiring
tenant had ceased to take with him the roof of his house, but instead
received compensation according to appraisal for his whole dwelling,
which presumably he had either purchased at the commencement, or himself
erected during the currency of his indeterminate tenure.
On The Parks of Coldstone,
so long vacant, there was no dwelling, and the new tenant, I understand,
erected one for himself. No doubt it was small, clay-floored and
unpretentious. It had, however, the but and ben with the usual box-bed
accommodation. The barn, horse stable, cattle byres and hen-house were
attached to it, stretching out in a single line, with I suppose the
manure-heap not far removed. Entry was made on the new venture in high
hope and with abundant courage.
Around the new tenant
soon began to gather a family of boys and girls whose splendid physique
and spirit gave promise of abundant help in days to come. He had brought
with him an iron plough, the first seen in the district, and no doubt
felt somewhat superior to the neighbours, well known in his boyhood, who
were still plying the old ox plough of their fathers. But the times were
hard, and all too soon the health and spirits of his faithful wife began
to fail till, as time went on, it became evident that that fell
destroyer of youthful life, consumption, had marked her for his prey.
The end came in April 1814. Sorrow followed upon sorrow, and little
wonder if hope itself should have failed as one after another of his
family, assailed and vanquished by the same disease, followed their
mother in quick succession to the grave. The stone in the family plot in
the Coldstone churchyard briefly records the particulars of their
passing. Allan died in 1817, aged 23; Isabel in 1821, aged 24; Elizabeth
in 1824, aged 22; Robert in 1828, aged 27; and John in 1830, aged 25.
They seem to have been a stalwart family, the boys standing not less
than six feet in height, and intellectually gifted as well, and as my
father would sometimes add, "very proud." My mother told us that John,
the only one of them she knew, even after he was fighting the disease
that was manifestly soon to carry him off, maintained a most cheerful
demeanour and never allowed a word of regret to pass his lips. My father
was assured that his mother had passed away in rapturous joy, in
fullness of faith and in anticipation of the rest that remaineth. As to
the others, I know less, only that they all seem to have performed well
their part during their brief sojourn in the world. |
