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JOHN DUNCAN called early at
Whitehouse the following evening, urged by an inexplicable expectancy. The
time that night was chiefly spent in the garden and the greenhouses,
according to John's wish, in some general talk about plants, and in those
personal questions and mutual confidences that accompany a first
introduction, when the one feels after the other, by which are laid the
foundations of friendship. After parting, Charles was not yet very greatly
impressed with the weaver, and he still thought him "a mortal queer man."
John's shyness was so great; he shut himself from all strangers beneath such
an impenetrable armour of natural reserve, which the sorrows he had to hide
had painfully increased, that this was not to be wondered at. He was a
modest mountain daisy, whose earlier growth had been stunted by sunless
gloom, barren soil, and the bitter waters of grief, and which only lifted
its drooping head under the genial warmth of trustful affection and fullest
confidence. His backward reticence, indistinct utterance, and introverted,
shamefaced look before strangers also concealed the latent power and the
strong intellect that dwelt in his little body; so that, at parting that
night, Charles had small hope of his doing much in science.
But increased acquaintance
soon dispelled these impressions, and Black began to see that in this weaver
he had a man of uncommon mental vigour and ability, who already possessed a
great love of plants, much curious knowledge on that and on many other
subjects he was himself ignorant of, a remarkable memory, and indomitable
energy. At first, John's progress in Botany was slow; indeed, very slow, for
this scholar had never been by any means "quick at the uptak'," ready in
apprehension, and, in regard to entirely new ideas at his time of life, dull
more than apt. But once grasped, once clearly perceived, they became his
own, thoroughly and permanently absorbed.
John's visits increased in
frequency, as intimacy deepened on both sides, and as the men began to catch
hold of each other "with hooks of steel." John "grew upon" Charles so much
that, as Charles said, he "became as it were part of himself, and if he did
not come up of an evening, he felt a blank in the day." As Charles has often
declared, he soon loved John "like a very brither." And John's affection and
esteem for him became equally deep and absorbing. As he used to say,
"Charlie Black was a bosom freend o' mine;" adding, like the solitary man he
was, who valued trustful secretiveness, "if I tell't him onything, it was
keepit there;" and concluding all references to their friendship with a
return to the original theme, as if it were a dulcet melody that charmed
him, "Ay, he was a great faavorite, a bosom freendI" Yet with all this
admiration and trust, there was one subject never once alluded to between
them during their long and close intimacy, because too painful for either to
speak of—the central sorrow of John's life, his unhappy relations with his
wife.
Though Duncan was slow in
learning the thorny technicalities of the hard science he had set himself to
conquer, he was intensely in earnest, patient beyond expression, eager to be
taught, and humble as a child in his readiness to sit at the feet of his
young teacher—a most praiseworthy trait, revealing finer touches of
character and a true scientific spirit in a man twenty years Black's senior,
who had seen and studied so much already. Such perseverance became its own
reward, for John "got on," and his mastery over the subject grew apace. To
aid him in his private study in the workshop, and to relieve his willing
tutor from unnecessary trouble, he picked up, at his first visit to
Aberdeen, a copy of "Pinnock's Catechism of Botany," a small introductory
handbook, his first purchase in the science, with which he afterwards
inoculated many a disciple, and which he preserved to the end as a pleasant
memorial of early struggles in Botany. He used to bring with him bundles of
plants when he came up to Whitehouse in the evening, which he gave to the
gardener, asking him "to botanise heigh-oot." That is, he was to begin at
the very first elements in discovering a plant, and tell at every step what
he was doing; uttering aloud all his processes and conclusions, till he
fixed its class, variety, and name, with reasons for each determination.
John would himself then retrace the same ground in detail, under Charles's
eye.
Though it was a considerable
time before he could decipher a plant independently, he succeeded at last.
Then followed the exquisite delight of self-discovery, crowned by the
triumphant eureka when a difficult plant was finally made out.
To this was added in time the
pleasures of mutual help, when the pupil could take his part with the master
in determining a new-found specimen, the one using the book, and the other
calling out the successive characteristics that were to guide them step by
step to the very name ; and none but those who have thus worked hand in hand
with a dear friend and fellow-student of plants can adequately realise the
sweetness of such joint study of a favourite science. Like all such higher
delights, it is one "which the world cannot give, and which it cannot take
away."
During all that summer and
autumn, both were busily searching for plants, John being simply
indefatigable. With his greater leisure, he gathered more than Charles, who
was a servant under command, with long hours and no holidays. Of course,
John had more to get, as Charles had already a good collection, and he had
only begun to form one. Charles had many duplicates, and kept only two
specimens, handing over the others to his friend, whose herbarium began to
swell to proud proportions in the weaving shop where he, kept it. In all his
gathering of plants, John, of course, loyally collected for both.
The two students made many an
excursion near and far throughout the Vale of Alford and its enclosing
hills, in search of the loved flowers ; thus not only increasing their store
of specimens, but gathering a thousand delightful memories to cheer them in
after years, when they could be viewed only by that "inward eye which is the
bliss of solitude " and distance. So that at last, as Charles Black
gratefully and truthfully expresses it, "the Vale of Alford became to us one
of the sweetest spots on earth. And the Tap o' Benachie, what does it not
recall? How often did we wander over those dear old hills, and what a
pleasure Botany was to John and me!"
It was their wise custom to
collect and press the plants in summer, and lay them carefully aside, to be
discovered during the long nights of winter, in the kitchen at Whitehouse.
During the four years in which they thus worked together there, they visited
the greater part of the surrounding country and conquered most of its
plants, John going to more distant corners, which Charles's want of leisure
prevented. And it is wonderful how much country they thus traversed
together, with the little time Charles had at .command from his close
confinement to work; as John proudly said, "we missed naething. a' roond."
It is only another example of the perennial truth, of the will finding or
creating the way; for in this, as in all else, enthusiastic will wields the
might of the conqueror before whom every valley is exalted, every mountain
and hill are made low, the crooked straight, and rough places plain.
But Charles had no spare time
at all, except what was stolen from sleep, for he has always been too
conscientious to steal even a single hour from the service of his employer,
carrying this to an absurd extent, by refusing to take liberty when allowed
it. Neither of these students grudged their sleeping hours for the flowers;
and Charles was obliged occasionally to use the Sunday for more distant
journeys to new spots where rarer species grew. John used at first to
accompany him a good deal on that day, but by-and-by less frequently; for he
became more rigid in regard to Sabbath observance, and having more leisure,
he had not the same reasons for employing that day as Charles had, beyond
his reluctance to allow his friend to go alone. And who shall say that these
two men, deeply religious and God-fearing as they were by constitution and
conviction, did wrong in thus employing the sacred day in the study of God's
great book of Nature, twin volume as it is, and as it ought to be with even
the most orthodox, to that of Revelation?
Their self-denying eagerness
in pursuit of plants was exemplary; as their friend the shoemaker strongly
put it, they were simply "wild" about them—a description which shows the
impression their enthusiasm produced on their non-scientific neighbours.
They would often leave Whitehouse before daybreak, and walk up Donside to
the Bridge of Alford, scanning every cranny for specimens, and return to the
house before the housekeeper was out of bed, after going at least ten miles
of a morning before breakfast. On one occasion, they slept together at "the
big house," and set out next morning at four o'clock, "before the screech o'
day," carrying bread and cheese and a bottle of milk as their simple lunch.
They went across Tough, by the high ground bounding the Vale on the south;
down _into the valley of the Leochel at Skuttery Mill; up by Droughsburn,
John's future residence; past Dorsell and Asloun to the Dori beyond Breda;
[Pronounced Breddli. It has no connection with the continental town of the
name, but is probably a corruption of Braidhaugh.] and back along the plain
to the farm of Guise, in Tough, where they were entertained to tea by "the
goodwife," the sister of a friend; and home again that night very late. They
were not rewarded, however, by the discovery of many new plants that day,
after a tramp over hill and dale of at least thirty miles. Another journey
led them right over the Forest of Corennie, sixteen hundred feet above the
sea, which bounds the Vale above the kirk of Tough ; down into the valley of
the Dee; past the church of Lumphanan, to the Loch of Auchlossan, since
drained, close by the Dee. There they got the pretty green plant, with small
yellow papilionaceous flowers and sharp thorns, called needle greenwood,
petty whin, or carlin's spur (Genista Anglica), which had longer needles or
spurs than they ever saw; "bad," as John remarked, "for bar' feet."' One day
they ascended the Red Hill near the crest of Corennie Forest, above the farm
of Tillyfour—since famous under Mr. McCombie for his fine breed of polled
cattle, visited by the Queen in 1866. Here Charles dropped his copy of
Dickie's "Flora," which he had purchased at its first issue; and,
notwithstanding diligent search then and afterwards, he never. saw it
again—a loss which he could ill afford, and which distressed him much for
its own sake, as an old companion and trusty guide in their researches.
John, however, purchased a copy shortly after, for they could not do without
it, and thus their progress was not impeded.
They explored minutely the
whole course of the Don, from below Monymusk up to Kildrummy, with its
splendid castellated ruins, and on to Towie, where they found the dwarf
herbaceous bourtree or elder (Sambucus ebulus).
But the part they frequented
most was the mountainous region behind Whitehouse, which bounds the Vale on
the east, already so often mentioned when John lived on its eastern slopes
by Paradise. Here they would go, past the fine erect monolith of gneiss
called Luath's Stone, where a son of Macbeth's is said to lie buried, to the
top of the Green Hill, above thirteen hundred feet. This commands a view
reputed to be unrivalled in the district, from the sea beyond Aberdeen, by
Lochnagar, up to Ben Macdhui and the Buck.; northwards, to the Tap o' Noth
and the country beyond the Foudland Hills, round to Benachie and its wooded
and cultivated eastern slopes. From Green ' Hill, they would climb to the
top of Cairn William, down to John's old scenes by the Don, which they
crossed by fords at several places well known to them, on their way to the
dearly loved Benachie, every foot of which they knew. Still more frequently
they walked to it, by the beautiful Brig o' Don, and the castellated Castle
Forbes, nestling amidst its woods.
Benachic is not very rich in
plants, except on its lower reaches. On the higher, in a moss close by the "Mither
tap," they found the cloudberry, or mountain strawberry (Ratbus char cemorus),
a rather uncommon sub-Alpine plant, with a large, pale-yellow, luscious
fruit, the only rarer species they ever found there. One Sunday, they
ascended the mountain, and continued their journey, to fulfil filial and
social duties, by going down its eastern face; Charles visiting his old
parents, whom he now saw too seldom, then resident at Burnside of Braco, and
calling in the evening for John, who had seen his old friends at Longfolds.
They then climbed Cairn William together on the way back to their quiet
homes, in the dewy dusk, amidst the glories of the Sabbath sunset, and the
adoration and thankfulness of their deepest hearts.
But pleasant beyond speech as
were these wide and wild wanderings, they were equalled, if not surpassed,
by the delights of deciphering the plants during the long cosy winter
evenings, by the big kitchen fire at Whitehouse. It was then that the two
set themselves to this happy task, with all the vigorous enthusiasm born of
love for the plants and for each other. John was so eager that, winter as it
vas, he threw off his shoes and coat when the examination began, and worked
in his shirt-sleeves and stockings!
There is nothing like
enthusiastic devotion to a subject to raise the bodily temperature. I knew
two gentlemen, the keenest of chess-players, who, even at a drawing-room
party, where they would retire to a window recess to play, regularly took
off their coats before the game was half done, while the heated perspiration
stood on their brows! Need we wonder at Duncan?
So very earnest were these
two students that, as both have told me, often did the dawn surprise them at
their happy toil! At that time, Charles did the chief part of the work of
examination and arrangement, while John put them neatly on paper according
to their classes; and, as Charles says, "deftly did he do it." He used the
clean-washed floor to lay them on, the table being occupied by Charles.
Often, while thus employed,
they were so devotedly absorbed in the work that hours would pass without a
single word being exchanged between them; for, as Charles says, their "heads
and hearts were too full!" And who that has engaged, especially with a dear
friend, in the same delightful work among the plants gathered during the
day, under the blue sky and amidst the countless charms of earth and air,
has not known the raptures of like enthusiasm by the blazing fire, and
cannot vividly recall many a blissful hour so spent as amongst the happiest
of his life?
Would that such pursuits were
commoner than they are amongst our people! Few things would do more to raise
the intelligence and moral tone of the country, and save the memory many a
blot and the conscience many a pang. What an influence might not our schools
exercise in kindling a love of science and such employment of leisure! They
have it in their power, and it is devoutly to be hoped that they will
gradually rise to their high possibilities.
The winter of 1837-8, which
followed that of their first meeting, was one of unusual severity, long
known as "the winter of the big storm," when the snow was so deep that all
trace of roads and fields was obliterated, and the snow lay long into the
succeeding spring before it melted. It was similar to the winter of last
year, when John died. The fierceness and cold of 1880-1, while draining out
the waning strength of the old man, sent his memory back to those of more
than forty years before, when he struggled through the deep snow night after
night, to see his friend Charles and continue the study of the plants. But
Duncan never was a man to be easily daunted at difficulty or hard work, and
his enthusiasm in his new study soon became an overmastering passion.
When John left Whitehouse
late at night, to retire to his bed above his loom at Netherton, Charles
always made a point of accompanying him to "the yetts," or entrance gates,
of the policies of Whitehouse. On the way, they were always engaged in
ardent talk about the plants they had been working at, or about other
subjects that interested them. When the gates were reached, the argument was
rarely concluded; and, even when it was, John could not allow Charles to
return alone; so he must needs go back with his friend. But he went so far
that Charles had to return with him. And thus, under the charms of
companionship and discourse, they often traced and retraced their steps for
hours together past midnight. It is to be hoped that the reader has
frequently indulged in such happy, peripatetic philosophising and folly!
One night they had been
talking of some plants which Charles possessed but John did not, and Charles
mentioned one he had seen growing luxuriantly near the Loch of Skene. This
lake lies on the side of the turnpike which runs from Alford to Aberdeen,
about two-thirds of the distance from Whitehouse to the city. John got him
to describe the plant and its locality minutely. On account of their usual
meanderings above and below the gates, they parted after twelve. Next
morning, when the gardener rose to begin the work of the day, he was not a
little surprised to see John waiting for him at the door, in a state of
beaming excitement, with a plant in his hand. Before Charles could express
his astonishment, John handed it to him with a bright light in his eye, and,
in a quiet, subdued voice, that scarcely concealed the secret victorious
satisfaction he felt, said, "Weel, Charlie, isn't that hit?"
It was the very plant they
had been talking of when they parted! The eager little man had there and
then set out along the high-road in the dark ; through the pass of
Tillyfourie, a steep bit of climbing; on by the inn of Liggerdale, a
frequent resting-place for the night with travellers from above Alford; and
past the woods of Dunecht on the right, since famous for their astronomical
proprietor, till at last he reached the Loch of Skene. Here, at the first
peep-of day, he searched for and found the plant he sought, and with his
well-won treasure returned to Whitehouse, to surprise his friend with it in
the morning. It was a stiff midnight walk of at least thirty miles.
John's delight in returning
to Charles, after a more distant ramble, with his bundle of treasures, was
something beautiful to see, as Charles has told me. His joy would burst out,
at the moment of meeting, in some characteristic exclamation, such as "Sal,
lad, I hae fund something this time!" He would then produce his specimens in
succession, naming them not unfrequently, especially in his earlier efforts,
by wonderful transformations of the technical terms, which raised many a
merry laugh, and recounting, in humorous detail, the adventures he had had
in search of them.
O the pure blessedness, the
quiet ecstasy of such simple tastes as were pursued by these humble students
of flowers and lovers of nature! In very truth, to them Gray's joys of
convalescence were the delights of daily health:
"The meanest floweret of the
vale,
The simplest note that swelled the gale,
The common sun; the air, the skies,
To them were opening paradise." |
