It will be eight-and-twenty
years ago, just about this present time, that he took a sort of back-going
in his health, and somebody got him advised to go to a place in the south,
that they call Tunbridge Wells—one of the places where people, that can
afford annually to have fashionable complaints, go to drink mineral
waters. He would then be about fifty-two years of age; and the distress of
both auld and young in the village was very great at his departure. Men,
women, and children, accompanied him a full mile from the porter’s lodge,
and when his carriage drove away, there was not one that didna say—‘Heaven
bless you!’ On the Sabbath, also, our minister, Mr. Anderson, prayed for
him very fervidly.
Weel, we heard no more
about the laird, nor how the waters agreed wi’ his stomach, for the space
of about two months, when, to our surprise, a rumour got abroad, that he
was on the eve of being married. Some folk laughed at the report, and made
light of it; but I did no such thing, for I remembered the proverb,
that—‘An auld fool is the worst of all fools.’ But, to increase our
astonishment, cart-loads of furniture, and numbers of upholsterers,
arrived from Edinburgh, and the housekeeper and butler received orders to
have everything in readiness, in the best manner, for the reception of
their new leddy! There was nothing else talked about in the village for a
fortnight, and, I believe, nothing else dreamed about. A clap of thunder
bursting out in a new year’s morning, ushering in the year, and continuing
for a day without intermission, could not have surprised us more. There
were several widows and auld maids in the parish, that the laird allowed
so much a year to, and their dinner every Sunday and Wednesday, from the
Ha’ kitchen, and they, poor creatures, were in very great distress about
the matter. They were principally auld or feckless people, and they were
afraid that if their benefactor should stop his bounty, that they would be
left to perish. Whether they judged by their own dispositions or not, it
is not for me to say; but certain it is, that one and all of them were
afraid that his marrying a wife would put an end both to their annuities
and the dinners which they received twice a week from his kitchen.
I dinna suppose that there
was a great deal the matter wi’ the laird when he went to Tunbridge
Wells—like many others he wasna weel from having owre little to do. But he
had not been there many days, when his fancy was attracted by a dashing
young leddy, of four or five-and-twenty, the daughter of a gentleman who
was a dignitary in the church, but who lived up to and rather beyond his
income, so that when he should die, his gay family, of whom he had four
daughters, would be left penniless. The name of the laird’s intended was
Jemima, and she certainly was a pretty woman, and what ye would call a
handsome one; but there was a haughtiness about her looks, and a boldness
in her carriage, that were far from being becoming in a woman. Her looks
and carriage, however, were not her worst fault. She had been taken to the
Wells by her mamma, as she termed her mother, for the express purpose of
being exhibited—much after the same manner as cattle are exhibited at a
fair—to see whether any bachelor or widower would make proposals. Our good
laird was smitten, sighed, was accepted, and signed the marriage contract.
The marriage took place
immediately, but he didna arrive at the Ha’ wi’ his young wife till the
following June. When they did arrive, her father, the divine, was wi’
them, and within a week there was a complete overturning of the whole
establishment, from head to foot. They came in twa speck-and-span-new
carriages, shining like the sun wi’ silver ornaments. They brought also a
leddy’s maid wi’ them, that wore her veils, and her frills, and her
fal-de-rals; and the housekeeper declared that, for the first eight days,
she didna ken her mistress from the maid; for Miss imitated Madam, and
both took such airs upon themselves, that the auld body was confounded,
and curtsied to both without distinction, for fear of making a mistake.
They also brought a man servant wi’ them, that couldna speak a word like a
Christian, nor utter a word but in some heathenish foreign tongue. Within
a week the auld servants were driven about from the right hand to the
left, and from the left to the right. The incomers ordered them to do
this, and to do that, wi’ as much insolence and authority, as if he had
been a lord, and she a lady.
But, in a short time, the
leddy discovered that all the auld domestics, from the housekeeper and
butler down to the scullion wench, some of whom had been in the house for
twenty years, were little better than a den of thieves; and, at the
Martinmas term, a new race of servants took possession of the Ha’. But
this was not the only change which her young leddyship and her father
brought about in a few weeks. Her nerves could not stand the smell of
vegetables, which arose from the kitchen when the broth was cooling for
the widows and their families, the auld maidens, and other helpless
persons in the village and neighbourhood, on the Sundays and Wednesdays,
and she gave orders that the nuisance should be discontinued. Thus, sir,
for the sake of the gentility and delicacy of her ladyship’s organ of
smelling, forty stomachs were left twice a week to yearn with hunger. At
that time the labouring men on the estate had seven shillings a week, with
liberty to keep a cow to graze in the plantations; and those that dwelt by
the river side kept ducks and geese, all of which were great helps to
them. But her leddyship had an aversion to horned cattle. She never saw
them, she said, but she dreamed of them, and to dream of them was to dream
of an enemy! The laird endeavoured to laugh her out of such silly notions,
and appealed to her father, the dignitary and divine, to prove that belief
in dreams was absurd. His reverence agreed that it was ridiculous to place
faith in dreams, but he hinted that there were occasions when the wishes
of a wife, though a little extravagant, and perhaps absurd, ought to be
complied with; and he also stated, that he himself had seen the cattle in
question rubbing against the young trees, and nibbling the tender twigs;
besides, there were walks through the plantations, and as there might be
running cattle amongst them, he certainly thought, with his daughter, that
the grazing in the woods ought to be discontinued. His authority was
decisive. Next day, the steward was commanded to issue an order that every
cotter upon the estate, must either sell his cow, or pay for its grass to
a farmer.
This was a sad blow to the
poor hedgers and ditchers, and those that work with the spade. There was
mourning that day in many a cottage—it was equal to taking a meal a day
off every family. But the change that was taking place in their condition
did not end there. The divine, like another great and immortal
member of the sacred profession—the illustrious Paley—was fond of angling;
but there the resemblance between them stopped. I have said that he was
fond of angling—but he was short sighted, and one of the worst fishers
that ever cracked off a hook, or raised a splash in the water. Once, when
he might have preached on the text, that he ‘had toiled all day and caught
nothing,’ he was fishing on the river, about a mile above where we now
are, when he perceived the geese and ducks of a cottager, swimming and
diving their heads in the stream. It immediately occurred to the wise man,
that his want of success arose from the geese and ducks destroying all the
fish!—and he forthwith prevailed upon his son-in-law to order his tenants
to part with their poultry. This was another sair blow to the poor
cottagers, and was the cause of their bairns gaun bare-legged in winter,
and hungry in summer. The gardens, the avenues, the lodge, everything
about the place was altered. But to crown all, the lease of three or four
of the laird’s tenants was out at the following Martinmas, and their rents
were doubled. Every person marvelled at the change in the conduct and
character of the laird. Some thought he had gone out of his wits and
others that he was possessed by the Evil One; but the greater part
thought, like me, that he was a silly, henpecked man.
A few months after her
leddyship arrived, she gave birth to a son and heir, and there were great
rejoicings about the Ha’ on this occasion, but very little upon the
estate; for already it had become a place that every one saw it would be
desirable to leave as soon as possible. As the young birkie grew up, he
soon gave evidence of being a sad scapegrace. Never a day passed but
we heard of his being in some ploy or other; and his worthy mother said,
that it showed a spirit becoming his station in life. Before he had
reached man’s estate, he was considered to be a great proficient in
horse-racing, cock-fighting, fox-hunting, gambling, and other gentlemanly
amusements but as to learning, though he had been both at school and
college, I dinna suppose that there is a trade’s lad connected wi’ the
Mechanics’ Institution here, that he was fit to haud the candle to. His
grandfather, the divine, sometimes lectured him about the little attention
which he paid to his learning, but the young hopeful answered—‘That there
was no necessity for a gentleman, who was heir to four or five
thousand a year, and whose father was seventy years of age, boring over
books.’
They generally resided in
London, and were never about the Ha’, save during a month or two in the
shooting season. We heard, however, that they had fine carryings on in the
great city; that they kept up a perpetual course of routes, parties, and
assemblies—that the estate was deeply mortgaged; and the laird from the
course of dissipation into which he had been dragged, had sunk into
premature dotage. It was even reported that Johnny Grippy, the miser, had
advanced several thousand pounds upon the estate, at a very exorbitant
interest.
At length their course of
extravagance, like a lang tether, came to an end. Creditors grew numerous
and clamorous; they would have their money, and nothing but their money
would satisfy them. The infatuated auld laird sought refuge in the Abbey
at Holyrood; and his son went on racing about and gaming as formerly,
borrowing money from John Grippy when down here, and from Jews when in
London, and giving them promises and securities that would make the estate
disappear, when it came into his possession, like snow in summer. Her
leddyship came down to the Ha’, and, to my certain knowledge, was refused
credit for twenty shillings in a shop in the village here, which was then
kept by a son of one of the cotters, that she and her father had caused to
part wi’ their kye, and their poultry. This was what the young man
called—‘seeing day about wi’ her leddyship.’
The auld laird hadna been
twelve months in the Abbey, when, finding himself utterly deserted by his
wife and son, he sank into despondency, and died in misery; rueing, I will
make free to say, that ever he had set his foot in Tunbridge Wells. His
young successor, ingratitude to his mother for her over indulgence, and
the example she had set him, turned her from the Ha’ on his taking
possession of it, and left her to seek refuge in the house of her father
the divine; and we never heard of her in this part of the country again.
The career and end of the young laird I will state to ye, as I notice the
histories of the Minister, and ne’er-do-weel Tam. And now for that of----