1703, Sep 10
The steeple of the Tolbooth of Tain had lately fallen in the night, to the
great hazard of the lives of the prisoners, and some considerable damage
to the contiguous parish church. On the petition of the magistrates of
this poor little burgh, the Privy Council ordained a collection to be made
for the reconstruction of the building; and, meanwhile, creditors were
enjoined to transport their prisoners to other jails.
Nearly about the same time, voluntary collections were
ordained by the Privy Council, for erecting a bridge over the Dee at the
Black Ford; for the construction of a harbour at Cromarty, ‘where a great
quantity of the victual that comes to the south is loadened;’ and for
making a harbour at Pennan, on the estate of William Baird of Auchmedden,
in Aberdeenshire, where such a convenience was eminently required for the
shelter of vessels, and where ‘there is Iikewise a millstone quarry
belonging to the petitioner [B aird], from which the greatest part
of the mills in the kingdom are served by sea.’
1703, Nov 11
Amidst the endless instances of misdirected zeal and talent which mark the
time, there is a feeling of relief and gratification even in so small and
commonplace a matter as an application to the Privy Council, which now
occurs, from Mr William Forbes, advocate, for a copyright in a work he had
prepared under the name of A Methodical Treatise of Bills of Exchange.
The case is somewhat remarkable in itself, as an application by an
author, such applications being generally from stationers and printers.
Dec
Usually, in our day, the opposing solicitors in a cause do not feel any
wrath towards each other. It was different with two agents employed at
this time in the Court of Session on different interests, one of them
being Patrick Comrie, who acted in the capacity of ‘doer’ for the Laird of
Lawers. To him, one day, as he lounged through the Outer House, came up
James Leslie, a ‘writer,’ who entered into some conversation with him
about Lawers’s business, and so provoked him, that he struck Leslie in the
face, in the presence of many witnesses. Leslie appealed to the court, on
the strength of an old statute which decreed death to any one guilty of
violence in the presence of the Lords, and Comrie was apprehended. There
then arose many curious and perplexing questions among the judges as to
the various bearings of the case; but all were suddenly solved by Comrie
obtaining a remission of his offence from the queen.
In this year was published the first
intelligent topographical book regarding Scotland, being ‘A Description
of the Western Isles, by M. Martin, Gentleman.’ It gives accurate
information regarding the physical peculiarities of these islands, and
their numberless relics of antiquity, besides many sensible hints as to
means for improving the industry of the inhabitants. The author, who seems
to have been a native of Skye, writes like a well-educated man for his
age, and as one who had seen something of life in busier scenes than those
supplied by his own country. He has also thought proper to give an ample
account of many superstitious practices of the Hebrideans, and to devote a
chapter to the alleged power of second-sight, which was then
commonly attributed to special individuals throughout the whole of Celtic
Scotland. All this he does in the same sober painstaking manner in which
he tells of matters connected with the rural economy of the people, fully
shewing that he himself reposed entire faith in the alleged phenomena. In
the whole article, indeed, he scarcely introduces a single expression of a
dogmatic character, either in the way of defending the belief or
ridiculing it, but he very calmly furnishes answers, based on what he
considered as facts, to sundry objections which had been taken against it.
But for his book, we should have been much in the dark regarding a system
which certainly made a great mark on the Highland mind in the seventeenth
century, and was altogether as remarkable, perhaps, as the witch
superstitions of the Lowlands dnring the same period.
He tells us—’ The second-sight is a
singular faculty of seeing an otherwise invisible object, without any
previous means used by the person that sees it, for that end. The vision
makes such a lively impression upon the seers, that they neither see nor
think of anything else, except the vision, as long as it continues, and
then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object which was
represented to them.
‘At the sight of a vision, the
eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring until the
object vanish. This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons
happen to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my own observation,
and to others who were with me.’
The seers were persons of both sexes
and of all ages, 'generally illiterate, well-meaning people;’ not people
who desired to make gain by their supposed faculty, or to attract notice
to themselves— not drunkards or fools—but simple country people, who were
rather more apt to feel uneasy in the possession of a gift so strange,
than to use it for any selfish or uuworthy purpose. It really appears to
have been generally regarded as an uncomfortable peculiarity; and there
were many instances of the seers resorting to prayers and other religious
observances in order to get quit of it.
The vision came upon the seer
unpromonishedly, and in all imaginable circumstances. If early in the
morning, which was not frequent, then the prediction was expected to be
accomplished within a few hours; the later in the day, the accomplishment
was expected at the greater distance of time. The things seen were often
of an indifferent nature, as the arrival of a stranger; often of a
character no less important than the death of individuals. If a woman was
seen standing at a man’s left hand, it was a presage that she would be his
wife, even though one of the parties might then be the mate of another.
Sometimes several women would be
seen
standing in a row beside a man, in which case it was expected that the one
nearest would be his first wife, and so on with the rest in their turns.
When the arrival of a stranger was
predicted, his dress, stature, complexion, and general appearance
would be described,
although he might be previously unknown
to the seer. If of the seer’s acquaintance, his name would be told, and
the humour he was in would be described from the
countenance he bore. ‘I have been seen thus myself,’ says Martin, ‘by
seers of both sexes at some hundred miles’ distance; some that saw me in
this manner, had never seen me personally, and it happened according to
their visions, without any previous design of mine to go to those places,
my coming there being purely accidental.’
It will be remembered that, when Dr
Johnson and Boswell travelled through the Hebrides in 1773, the latter was
told an instance of such prediction by the gentleman who was the subject
of the story—namely, M’Quarrie, the Laird of Ulva. ‘He had gone to
Edinburgh, and taken a man-servant along with him. An old woman who was in
the house said one day: "M’Quarrie will be at home to-morrow, and will
bring two gentlemen with him;' and she said she saw his servant return in
red and green. He did come home next day. He had two gentlemen with him,
and his servant had a new red and green livery, which M’Quarrie had bought
for him at Edinburgh, upon a sudden thought, not having the least
intention when he left home to put his servant in livery; so that the old
woman could not have heard any previous meution of it. This, he assured
us, was a true story.
Martin tells a story of the same
character, but even more striking in its various features, The seer in
this case was Archibald Macdonald, who lived in the isle of Skye about the
time of the Revolution. One night before supper, at Knockowe, he told the
family he had just then seen the strangest thing he ever saw in his life;
to wit, a man with an ugly long cap, always shaking his head; but the
strangest thing of all was a little harp he had, with only four strings,
and two hart’s horns fixed in the front of it. ‘All that heard this odd
vision fell a laughing at Archibald, telling him that he was dreaming, or
had not his wits about him, since he pretended to see a thing that had no
being, and was not so much as heard of in any part of the world.’ All this
had no effect upon Archibald, ‘who told them that they must excuse him if
he laughed at them after the accomplishment of the vision.’ Archibald
returned to his own house, and within three or four days after, a man
exactly answering to the description arrived at Knockowe. He was a poor
man, who made himself a buffoon for bread, playing on a harp, which was
ornamented with a pair of hart’s horns, and wearing a
cap and bells, which
he shook in playing. He was previously unknown at Knockowe, and was found
to have been at the island of Barray, sixty miles oft at the time of the
vision. This story was vouched by Mr Daniel Martin and all his family—
relatives, we may presnme, of the author of the book now
quoted.
Martin relates a story of a predicted visit of a
singular kind to the island of Egg; and it is an instance more than
usually entitled to notice, as he himself heard of it in the interval
between the vision and its fulfilment. A seer in that island told his
neighbours that he had frequently seen the appearance of a man in a red
coat lined with blue, having on his head a strange kind of blue cap, with
a very high cock on the forepart of it. The figure always appeared in the
act of making rude advances to a young woman who lived in the hamlet, and
he predicted that it would be the fate of this girl to be treated in a
dishonourable way by some such stranger. The inhabitants considered the
affair so extremely unlikely to be realised, that they treated the seer as
a fool. Martin tells that he had the story related to him in Edinburgh, in
September 1698, by Norman Macleod of Graban, who had just then come from
the Isle of Skye, there being present at the time the Laird of Macleod,
Mr Alexander
Macleod, advocate, and some other persons. About a year and a half after,
a few government war-vessels were sent into the Western Islands to reduce
some of the people who had been out with Lord Dundee. Major Fergusson, who
commanded a large military party on board, had no thought of touching at
Egg, which is a very sequestered island, but some natives of that isle,
being in Skye, encountered a party of his men, and one of the latter was
slain. He consequently steered for Egg, to revenge himself on the natives.
Among other outrages, the young woman above alluded to was carried on
board the vessel, and disgracefully treated, thus completely verifying the
vision.
An instance of the second-sight,
which fell under the observation of the clever statesman Viscount Tarbat,
is related by Martin as having been reported to him by Lord Tarbat
himself. While travelling in Ross-shire, his lordship entered a house, and
sat down on an arm-chair. One of his retinue, who possessed the faculty of
a seer, spoke to some of the rest, wishing them to persuade his lordship
to leave the house, ‘for,’ said he, ‘a great misfortune will attend
somebody in it, and that within a few hours.’ This was told to Lord
Tarbat, who did not regard it. The seer soon after renewed his entreaty
with much earnestness, begging his master to remove out of that unhappy
chair; but he was only snubbed as a fool. Lord Tarbat, at his own
pleasure, renewed his journey, and had not been gone many hours when a
trooper, riding upon ice, fell and broke his thigh, and being brought into
that house, was laid in the arm-chair to have his wound dressed. Thus the
vision was accomplished.
It was considered a rule in
second-sight, that a vision seen by one seer was not necessarily visible
to another in his company, unless the first touched his neighbour. There
are, nevertheless, anecdotes of visions seen by more than one at a time,
without any such ceremony. In one case, two persons, not accustomed to see
visions, saw one together, after which, neither ever enjoyed the privilege
again. They were two simple country men, travelling along a road about two
miles to the north of Snizort church, in Skye. Suddenly they saw what
appeared as a body of men coming from the north, as if bringing a corpse
to Snizort to be buried. They advanced to the river, thinking to meet the
funeral company at the ford, but when they got there, the visionary scene
had vanished. On coming home, they told what they had seen to their
neighbours. ‘About three weeks after, a corpse was brought along that road
from another parish, from which few or none are brought to Snizort, except
persons of distinction.’
A vision of a similar nature is
described as occurring to one Daniel Stewart, an inbabitant of
Hole, in the North Parish of St Mary’s, in the isle of Skye; and it was
likewise the man’s only experience of the kind. One day, at noon, he saw
five men riding northward; he ran down to the road to meet them; but when
he got there, all had vanished. The vision was repeated next day, when he
also heard the men speak. It was conclnded that the company he saw was
that of Sir Donald Macdonald of Sleat, who was then at Armadale, forty
miles distant.
The important place which matrimony
occupies in social existence, makes it not surprising that the union of
individuals in marriage was frequently the alleged subject of
second-sight. As already mentioned, when a woman stood at a man’s left
hand, she was expected to be his wife. It was also understood that, when a
man was seen at a woman’s left hand, he was to be her future husband.
Several persons, says Martin, ‘living in a certain family, told me that
they had frequently seen two men standing at a young gentlewoman’s left
hand, who was their master’s daughter. They told the men’s names, and as
they were the young lady’s equals, it was not doubted that she would be
married to one of them, and perhaps to the other, after the death of the
first. Some time after, a third man appeared, and he seemed always to
stand nearest to her of the three; but the seers did not know him, though
they could describe him exactly. Within some months after, this man, who
was last seen, did actually come to the house, and fulfilled the
description given of him by those who never saw him but in a vision; and
he married the woman shortly after. They live in the isle of Skye; both
they and others confirmed the truth of this instance when I saw them.’
The Rev. Daniel Nicolson, minister
of the parish of St Mary’s, in Skye, was a widower of forty-four, when a
noted seer of his flock, the Archibald Macdonald already spoken of, gave
out that he saw a well-dressed lady frequently standing at the minister’s
right hand. He described her complexion, stature, and dress particularly,
and said he had no doubt such a person would in time become the second Mrs
Nicolson. The minister was rather angry at having this story told, and
bade his people pay no attention to what ‘that foolish dreamer, Archibald
Macdonald,’ had said, ‘for,’ said he, ‘it is twenty to one if ever I marry
again.’ Archibald, nevertheless, persisted in his tale. While the matter
stood in this position, it was related to Martin.
The minister afterwards attended a
synod in Bute—met a Mrs Morison there—fell in love with her, and brought
her home to Skye as his wife. It is affirmed that she was instantly and
generally recognised as answering to the description of the lady in
Archibald’s vision.
About 1652, Captain Alexander
Fraser, commonly called the Tutor of Lovat, being guardian of his
nephew, Lord Lovat, married Sybilla Mackenzie, sister of the Earl of
Seaforth, and widow of John Macleod of Macleod. The Tutor, who had fought
gallantly in the preceding year for King Charles II. at Worcester, was
thought a very lucky man in this match, as the lady had a jointure of
three hundred merks per annum. The marriage, however, is more remarkable
on account of its having been seen many years before, during the lifetime
of the lady’s first husband. We have the story told with all seriousness,
though in very obscure typography, in a letter which Aubrey prints as
having been sent to him by a ‘learned friend’ of his in the Highlands,
about 1694.
Macleod and his wife, while
residing, we are to understand, at their house of Dunvegan in Skye, on
returning one day from an excursion or brief visit, went into their
nursery to see their infant child.
To pursue the narration: ‘On
their coming in,
the nurse
falls a-weeping. They asked the cause, dreading the child was sick, or
that the nurse was scarce of milk. The nurse replied the child was well,
and she had abundance
of milk. Yet she
still wept. Being pressed to tell what ailed
her, she at last said that Macleod would die, and the lady wonld shortly
be married to another man. Being asked how she knew that event, she told
them plainly, that, as they came into the room, she saw a man with a
scarlet cloak and white hat betwixt them, giving the lady a kiss over the
shoulder; and this was the cause of her weeping; all which,’ pursues the
narrator, ‘came to pass. After Maeleod’s death [which happened in 1649],
the Tutor of Lovat married the lady in the same dress in which the woman
saw him.
The Bishop of Caithness, a short
while before the Revolution, had five daughters, one of whom spoke
grudgingly of the burden of the family housekeeping lying wholly upon her.
A manservant in the house, who had the second-sight, told her that ere
long she would be relieved from her task, as he saw a tall gentleman in
black walking on the bishop’s right hand, and whom she was to marry.
Before a quarter of a year had elapsed, the prediction was realised; and
all the man’s vaticinations regarding the marriage-feast and company also
proved true.
A curious class of cases, of
importance for any theory on the subject, was that in which a visionary
figure or spectre intervened for the production of the phenomena. A spirit
in great vogue in the Highlands in old times—as, indeed, in the Lowlands
also— was known by the name of Browny. From the accounts we have of
him, it seems as if he were in a great measure identical with the drudging
goblin of Milton, whose shadowy flail by night would thrash the corn
‘That ten day-labourers could not
end.’
Among our Highlanders, he presented
himself as a tall man.
The servants of Sir Norman Macleod
of Bernera were one night assembled in the hall of the castle in that
remote island, while their master was absent on business, without any
intimation having been given of the time of his probable return. One of
the party, who had the second-sight, saw Browny [John Brand, in his
Description of Orkney and Zetland, 1703, says, with reference to the
population of the latter group of islands: ‘Not above forty or fifty years
ago, almost every family had a Browny, or evil spirit so called, which
served them, to whom they gave a sacrifice for his service; as, when they
churned their milk, they took a part thereof, and sprinkled every corner
of the house with it for Browny’s use; likewise, when they brewed, they
had a stone, which they called Brownies Stone, whereon there was a
little hole, into which they poured some wort for a sacrifice to Browny.
My informer, a minister in the country, told me that he had conversed with
an old man, who, when young, used to brew, and sometimes read upon his
Bible, to whom an old woman in the house said, that Browny was displeased
with that book he read upon, which if he continued to do, they would get
no more service of Browny. But he being better instructed from that book,
which was Browny’s eyesore, and the object of his wrath, when he brewed he
would not suffer any sacrifice to be given to Browny, whereupon the first
and second brewings were spilt, and for no use; though the wort worked
well, yet in a little time it left off working. and grow cold, ln the
third browst or brewing he had ale very good, though he would not give any
sacrifice to Browny, with whom they were no more troubled. I had also from
the same source that a lady in Uist, now deceased, told him that when she
first took up house, she refused to give a sacrifice to Browny; upon which
the first and second brewings rnisgave, but the third was good, and Browny
not being regarded nor rewarded, as formerly he had been, abandoned his
wonted service. They also had stacks of corn called Browse p’s Stocks,
which, though they wore not bound with straw-ropes, or any way fenced,
as other use to be, yet the greatest storm of wind was not able to blow
any straw off them. Now, I do not hear of any such appearances the devil
makes in these isles, so great and stony are the blossings which attend a
Gospel dispensation.’] come in several times and make a show of carrying
an old woman from the fireside to the door; at last, he seemed to take her
by neck and heels, and bundle her out of the house; at which the seer
laughed so heartily, that his companions thought him mad. He told them
they must remove, for the hall would be required that night for other
company. They knew, of course, that he spoke in consequence of having had
a vision; but they took it upon themselves to express a doubt that it
could be so speedily accomplished. In so dark a night, and the approach to
the island being so dangerous on account of the rocks, it was most
unlikely that their master would arrive. In less than an hour, a man came
in to warn them to get the hall ready for their master, who had just
landed. Martin relates this story from Sir Norman Macleod’s own report.
The same Sir Norman Maclcod was one
day playing with some of his friends at a game called the Tables (in
Gaelic, palmermore, which requires three on a side, each throwing
the dice by turns. A critical difficulty arising as to the placing of one
of the table-men, seeing that the issue of the game obviously must depend
upon it, the gentleman who was to play hesitated for a considerable time.
At length, Sir Norman’s butler whispered a direction as to the best site
for the man into his ear; he played in obedience to the suggestion, and
won the game. Sir Norman, having heard the whisper, asked who had advised
him so skilfully. He answered that it was the butler. ‘That is strange,’
quoth Sir Norman, ‘for the butler is unacquainted with the game.’ On
inquiry, the man told that he had not spoken from any skill of his own. He
had seen the spirit, Browny, reaching his arm over the player’s head, and
touching with his finger the spot where the table-man was to be placed.
‘This,’ says Martin, ‘was told me by Sir Norman and others, who happened
to be present at the time.’
Sir Norman Macleod relates another
case in which his own knowledge comes in importantly for authentication. A
gentleman in the Isle of Harris had always been ‘seen’ with an arrow in
his thigh, and it was expected that he would not go out of the world
without the prediction being fulfilled. Sir Norman heard the matter spoken
of for many years before the death of the gentleman. At length the
gentleman died, without any such occurrence taking place. Sir Norman was
at his funeral, at St Clement’s kirk, in Harris. The custom of that island
being to bury men of importance in a stone chest in the church, the body
was brought on an open bier. A dispute took place among the friends at the
church door as to who should enter first, and from words it came to blows.
One who was armed with a bow and arrows, let fly amongst them, and after
Sir Norman Maeleod had appeased the tumult, one of the arrows was found
sticking in the dead man’s thigh.
Martin was informed by John Morison
of Bragir, in Lewis, ‘a person of unquestionable sincerity and
reputation,’ respecting a girl of twelve years old, living within a mile
of his house, who was troubled with the frequent vision of a person
exactly resembling herself, who seemed to be always employed just as she
herself might be at the moment. At the suggestion of John Morison, prayers
were put up in the family, in which he and the girl joined, entreating
that God would be pleased to relieve her from this unpleasant visitation;
and after that she saw her double no more. Another neighbour of John
Morison was haunted by a spirit resembling himself, who never spoke to him
within doors, but pestered him constantly out of doors with impertinent
questions.
At the recommendation of a
neighbour, the man threw a live coal in the face of the vision; in
consequence of which, the spirit assailed him in the fields next day, and
beat him so sorely, that he had to keep his bed for fourteen days. Martin
adds: ‘Mr Morison, minister of the parish, and several of his friends,
came to see the man, and joined in prayer that he might be freed from this
trouble; but he was still haunted by that spirit a year after I left
Lewis.’
Another case in which the spirit
used personal violence, but of an impalpable kind, is related by Martin as
happening at Knockowe, in Skye, and as reported to him by the family who
were present when the circumstance occurred. A man-servant, who usually
enjoyed perfect health, was one evening taken violently ill, fell back
upon the floor, and then began to vomit. The family were much concerned,
being totally at a loss to account for so sudden an attack; but in a short
while the man recovered, and declared himself free of pain. A seer in the
family explained the mystery. In a neighbouring village lived an
ill-natured female, who had had some hopes of marriage from this man, but
was likely to be disappointed. He had seen this Woman come in with a
furious countenance, and fall a-scolding her lover in the most violent
manner, till the man tumbled from his seat, albeit unconscious of the
assault made upon him.
Several instances of second-sight
are recorded in connection with historical occurrences. Sir John
Harrington relates that, at an interview he had with King James in 1607,
the conversation having turned upon Queen Mary, the king told him that her
death had been seen in Scotland before it happened, ‘being', as he said,
'spoken of in secret by those whose power of sight presented to them a
bloody head dancing in the air?’ He then,’ continues Harrington, 'did
remark much on this gift!’ It is related in May’s History of England,
that when the family of King James was leaving Scotland for England,
an old hermit-like seer was brought before them, who took little notice of
Prince Henry, but wept over Prince Charles—then three years old—lamenting
to think of the misfortunes he was to undergo, and declaring he should be
the most miserable of princes. A Scotch nobleman had a Highland seer
brought to London, where he asked his judgment on the Duke of Buckingham,
then at the height of his fortunes as the king’s favourite.
'Pish!’ said he, ‘he will come to
nothing. I see a dagger in his breast!’ In time the duke, as is well
known, was stabbed to the heart by Lieutenant Felton.
In one of the letters on
second-sight, written to Mr Aubrey from Scotland about 1693—94, reference
is made to the seer Archibald Macdonald, who has already been introduced
in connection with instances occurring in Skye. According to this writer,
who was a divinity student living in Strathspey, Inverness-shire,
Archibald announced a prediction regarding the unfortunate Earl of Argyle.
He mentioned it at Balloch Castle (now Castle-Grant), in the presence of
the Laird of Grant, his lady, and several others, and also in the house of
the narrator’s father. He said of Argyle, of whom few or none then knew
where he was, that he would within two months come to the West Highlands,
and raise a rebellious faction, which would be divided in itself, and
disperse, while the earl would be taken and beheaded at Edinburgh, and his
head set upon the Tolbooth, where his father’s head was before. All this
proved strictly true.
Archibald Macdonald was a friend of
Macdonald of Glencoe, and accompanied him in the expedition of Lord Dundee
in 1689 for the maintenance of King James’s interest in the highlands. Mr
Aubrey’s correspondent, who was then living in Strathspey, relates that
Dundee’s irregular forces followed General Mackay’s party along Speyside
till they came to Edinglassie, when he turned and marched up the valley.
At the Milltown of Gartenbeg, the Macleans joined, but remained behind to
plunder. G-lencoe, with Archibald in his company, came to drive them
forward; and when this had been to some extent effected, the seer came np
and said:
‘Glencoe, if you will take my
advice, you will make off with yourself with all possible haste. Ere an
hour come and go, you’ll he as hard put to it as ever you were in your
life.’ Glencoc took the hint, and, within an hour, Mackay appeared at
Cnlnakyle, in Abernetby, with a party of horse, and chased time Macleans
up the Morskaith; in which chase Glencoe was involved, and was hard put to
it, as had been foretold. It is added, that Archibald likewise foretold
that Glencoe would be murdered in the nighttime in his own house, three
months before it happened.
A well-vouched instance of the
second-sight connected with a historical incident, is related by Drummond
of Bohaidy, regarding the celebrated Highland paladin, Sir Ewen Cameron of
Locheil, who died at the age of ninety in 1719. ‘Very early that morning
[December 24, 1715] whereon the Chevalier de St. George landed at
Peterhead, attended only by Allan Cameron, one of the gentlemen of his
bedchamber Sir Ewen started, as it were, in a surprise, from his sleep,
and called out so loud to his lady (who lay by him in another bed) that
his king was landed—that his king was arrived—and that his son Allan was
with him, that she awaked.’ She then received his orders to summon the
clan, and make them drink the king’s (that is, the Chevalier’s) health—and
they engaged in so heartily, that they spent in it all the next day.
‘His lady was so curious, that she
noted down the words upon paper, with the date; which site a few days
after found verified in fact, to her great surprise.’ Bohaldy
remarks that this case fully approved itself to the whole clan Cameron, as
they heard their chief speak of scarcely anything else all that day.’
Predictions of death formed a large
class of cases of second-sight. The event was usually indicated by the
subject of the vision appearing in a shroud, and the higher the vestment
rose on the figure, the event was the nearer. ‘if it is not seen above the
middle,’ says Martin, ‘death is not to be expected for the space of a
year, and perhaps some months longer. When it is seen to ascend higher
towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand within a few days, if
not hours, as daily experience confirms. Examples of this kind were shewn
me, when the person of whom the observation was made enjoyed Perfect
health.’ He adds, that sometimes death was foretold of an individual by
hearing a loud cry, as from him, out of doors. ‘Five women were sitting
together in the same room, and all of them heard a loud cry passing by the
window. They thought it plainly to be the voice of a maid who was one of
the number. She blushed at the time, though not sensible of her so doing,
contracted a fever next day, and died that week.’
In a pamphlet on the second-sight,
written by Mr John Fraser, dean of the Isles, and minister of Tiree and
Coil, is an instance of predicted death, which the author reports on his
own knowledge, Having occasion to go to Tobermory, in Mull, to assist in
some government investigations for the recovery of treasure in the vessel
of the Spanish Armada known to have been there sunk, he was accompanied by
a handsome servant-lad, besides other attendants. A woman came before he
sailed, and, through the medium of a seaman, endeavoured to dissuade him
from taking that youth, as he would never bring him back alive. The seaman
declined to conimunicate her story to Mr Fraser. The company proceeded on
their voyage, and met adverse weather; the boy fell sick, and died on the
eleventh day. Mr Fraser, on his return, made a point of asking the woman
how she had come to know that this lad, apparently so healthy, was near
his death. She told Mr Fraser that she had seen the boy, as he walked
about, sewed up in his winding-sheets from top to toe;’ this she always
found to be speedily followed by the death of the person so seen.
Martin relates that a woman was
accustomed for some time to see a female figure, with a shroud up to the
waist, and a habit resembling her own; but as the face was turned away,
she never could ascertain who it was. To satisfy her curiosity, she tried
an experiment. She dressed herself with that part of her clothes behind
which usually was before. The vision soon after presented itself with its
face towards the seeress, who found it to be herself. She soon after died.
Although the second-sight had sunk
so much in Martin's time, that, according to him, there was not one seer
for ten that had been twenty years before, it continued to be so much in
vogue down to the reign of George III., that a separate treatise on the
subject, containing scores of cases, was published in 1763 by an educated
man styling himself Titeophilus Insulanus, as a means of checking
in some degree the materialising tendencies of the age, this author
considering the gift as a proof of the immortality of the soul. When Dr
Johnson, a few years later, visited the Highlands, he found the practice,
so to speak, much declined, and the clergy almost all against it. Proofs
could, nevertheless, be adduced that there are even now, in the remoter
parts of the Highlands, occasional alleged instances of what is called
second-sight, with a full popular belief in their reality.
1704, Jan 25
Charles, Earl of Hopetoun, set forth in a petition to
the Privy Council, that in his minority, many years ago, his tutors had
caused a windmill to be built at Leith for grinding and refining the ore
from his lead-mines. In consequence of the unsettling of a particular
bargain, the mill had been allowed to lie unused till now, when it
required some repair in order to be fit for service.
One John Smith, who had set up a
saw-mill in Leith, being the only man seen in this kind of work,
had been called into employment by his lordship for the repair of the
windmill; lint the wright— burgesses of Edinburgh interfered violently
with the work, on the ground of their corporation privileges, ‘albeit it
is sufficiently known that none of them have been bred to such work or
have any skill therein.’ Indeed, some part of the original work done by
them had now to be taken down, so ill was it done. It was obviously a
public detriment that such a work should thus be brought to a stand-still.
The Council, entering into the earl’s views, gave him a protection from
the claims of the wright-burgesses.
Feb
It is notorious that the purity of the Court of Session continued down to
this time to be subject to suspicion. It was generally understood that a
judge favoured his friends and connections, and could be spoken to in
behalf of a party in a suit. The time was not yet long past when each lord
had a ‘Pate ‘—that is, a dependent member of the bar (sometimes called
Peat), who, being largely fee’d by a party, could on that consideration
influence his patron.
A curious case, illustrative of the
character of the bench, was now in dependence. The heritors of the parish
of Dalry raised an action for the realisation of a legacy of £3000, which
had been left to them for the founding of a school by one Dr Johnston. The
defender was John Joissy, surgeon, an executor of the testator, who
resisted the payment of the money on certain pretexts. With the assistance
of Alexander Gibson of Dune, a principal clerk of Session, Joissy gained
favour with a portion of the judges, including the president. On the other
hand, the heritors, under the patronage of the Earl of Galloway, secured
as many on their side. A severe contest was therefore to be expected.
According to a report of the case in the sederunthook of the parish, the
Lord President managed to have it judged under circumstances favourable to
Joissy. The court having ‘accidentally appointed a peremptor day about the
beginning of February 1704 for reporting and deciding in tbe cause, both
parties concluded that the parish would then gain it, since one of Mr
Joissy’s lords came to be then absent. For as my Lord Anstrutber’s hour in
the Outer House was betwixt nine and ten of the clock in the morning, so
the Earl of Lauderdale, as Lord Ordinary in the Outer house, behoved to
sit from ten to twelve in the forenoon: for by the 21st act of the fourth
session of the first parliament of King William and Queen Mary, it‘s
statuted expressly, that if the Lord Ordinary in the Outer Houses sit and
vote in any cause in the Inner House after the chap of ten hours in the
clock, he may be declined by either party in the cause from ever
voting thereafter therintill: yet such was the Lord President’s
management, that so soon as my Lord Anstruther returned from the Outer
House at ten of the clock, and that my Lord Lauderdale was even desired by
some of the lords to take his post in the Outer House in the terms of law
yet his lordship was pleased after ten to sit and vote against the parish,
the president at that juncture having put the cause to a vote.’
The heritors, by the advice of some
of the lords in their interest, gave in a declinature of Lord Lauderdale,
on the ground of the illegality of his sitting in the Inner House after
ten o’clock; whereupon, next morning, the Lord President came into the
court in a great rage, demanding that all those concerned in the
declinature should be punished as criminals. The leading decliner, Mr
Ferguson of Cairoch, escaped from town on horse. back, an hour before the
macor came to summon him. The counsel, John Menzies of Cammo, and the
agent, remained to do what they could to still the storm. According to the
naïve terms of the report, ‘the speat was so high against the Parish and
them all the time, that they behaved to employ all their friends, and
solicit a very particular lord that morning before they went to the house;
and my Lord President was so high upon ‘t, that when Cammo told him that
my Lord Lauderdale, contrair to the act of parliament, sat after ten
o’clock, his lordship unmannerly said to Cammo, as good a gentleman as
himself, that it was a damned lie.’
Menzies, though a very eminent
counsel, and the agent, found all their efforts end in an order for their
going to jail, while a suitable punishment should be deliberated upon.
After some discussion, a slight calm ensued, and they were liberated on
condition of coming to the bar as malefactors, and there begging the Earl
of Lauderdale’s pardon. The parish report states that no remedy could be
obtained, for ‘the misery at that time was that the lords were in effect
absolute, for they did as they pleased, and when any took courage to
protest for remeid of law to the Scots parliament, they seldom or never
got any redress there, all the lords being still present, by which the
parliament was so overawed that not ane decreit among a hundred was
reduced.’
It is strange to reflect, that among
these judges were Lord Fountainhall and Lord Arniston, with several other
men who had resisted tyrannous proceedings of the old government, to their
own great suffering and loss. Wodrow promises of Halcraig, that, for his
conduct regarding the test in 1684, his memory would be ‘savoury.’ The
same author, speaking of the set in 1726 as dying out, says he wishes
their places may be as well filled. ‘King William,’ he says, ‘brought in a
good many substantial, honest country gentlemen, well affected to the
government and church, and many of them really religious, though there
might be some greater lawyers than some of them have been and are. But,
being men of integrity and weight, they have acted a fair and honest part
these thirty years, and keep the bench in great respect. May their
successors be equally diligent and conscientious.' Of course, by fairness
and honesty, Wodrow chiefly meant soundness in revolution politics, and
steadfast adherence to the established church.
Another instance of the vigorous
action of the Lords in the maintenance of their dignity occurred in
December 1701. A gentleman, named Cannon of Headmark, having some
litigation with the Viscount Stair and Sir James Dalrymple, his brother
Alexander, an agent before the court, used some indiscreet expressions
regarding the judges in a paper drawn up by him. Being called before the
Lords, and having acknowledged the authorship of the papers, he was sent
to prison for a month, ordered then to crave pardon of the court on his
knees, and thereafter to be for ever debarred from carrying on business as
an agent.
Some letters regarding a lawsuit of
William Foulis of Wood-hall in 1735—37, which have been printed,’ shew
that it was even then still customary to use influence with the Lords in
favour of parties, and the female connections appear as taking a large
share in the business. One sentence is sufficient to reveal the whole
system. ‘By Lord St Clair’s advice, Mrs Kinloch is to wait on Lady Cairnie
to-morrow, to cause her to ask the favour of Lady St Clair to solicit Lady
Betty Elphinston and Lady Dun ‘—the former being the wife of Lord Coupar,
and the latter of Lord Dun, two of the judges. Lord St Clair’s hint to Mrs
Kinloch to get her friend to speak to his own wife—he thus keeping clear
of the affair himself is a significant particular. Lord Dun, who wrote a
moral volume, entitled Advices,’ and was distinguished for his
piety, is spoken of by tradition as such a lawyer as might well be open to
any force that was brought to bear upon him. The present Sir George
Sinclair heard Mr Thomas Coutts relate that, when a difficult case came
before the court, where Lord Dun acted alone as ‘ordinary,’ he was heard
to say: ‘Eh, Lord, what am I to do? Eh, sirs, I wiss ye wad mak it up!
It will be surprising to many to
learn that the idea of having ‘friends’ to a cause on the bench was not
entirely extinct in a reign which people in middle life can well
recollect. The amiable Charles Duke of Queensberry, who had been the
patron of Gay, was also the friend of James Burnett of Monboddo, and had
exacted a promise that Burnett should be the next person raised to the
bench. ‘On Lord Milton’s death (1767), the duke waited on his majesty, and
reminded him of his promise, which was at once admitted, and orders were
immediately given to the secretary of state [Conway] to make out the royal
letter. The lady of the secretary was nearly allied to the family of
Hamilton, and being most naturally solicitous about the vote which Mr
Burnett might give in the great cause of which he had taken so much charge
as a counsel, she and the Duchess of Hamilton and Argyle were supposed to
have induced their brother-in-law, Mr Secretary Conway, to withhold for
many weeks the letter of appointment, and is even supposed to have
represented Mr Burnett’s character in snch unfavourable colours to the
Lord Chancellor Henley, that his lordship is reported to have jocosely
declared, that if she could prove her allegations against that gentleman,
instead of making him a judge, he would hang him. This delay gave
rise to much idle conjecture and conversation in Edinburgh, and it was
confidently reported that Mr Burnett’s appointment would not take place
till after the decision of the Douglas cause. Irritated by these
insinuations against his integrity, he wrote to the Duke of Queensberry,
declaring that if his integrity as a judge could be questioned in this
cause, he should positively refuse to be trusted with any other; and so
highly did he resent the opposition made by the secretary to his
promotion, that he took measures for canvassing his native county, in
order to oppose in parliament a ministry who had so grossly affronted him.
The Duke of Queensberry, equally indignant at the delay, requested an
audience of his majesty, and tendered a surrender of his commission as
justice-general of Scotland, if the royal promise was not fulfilled. In a
few days the letter was despatched, and Lord Monboddo took his seat in the
court.’
Feb 2
Under the excitement created by the news of a Jacobite plot, the zealous
Presbyterians of Dumfriesshire rose to wreak out their long pent-up
feelings against the Catholic gentry of their district. having fallen upon
sundry houses, and pillaged them of popish books, images, &c., they
marched in warlike manner to Dumfries, under the conduct of James Affleck
of Adamghame and John M’Jore of Kirkland, and there made solemn
ineremation of their spoil at the Cross.
A number of ‘popish vestments,
trinkets, and other articles’ having been found about the same time in and
about Edinburgh, the Privy Council (March 14) ordered such of them as were
not intrinsically valuable to be burned next day at the Cross; but the
chalice, patine, and other articles in silver and gold, to be melted down,
and the proceeds given to the kirk-treasurer.
Notwithstanding this treatment, we
find it reported in 1709, that ‘papists do openly and avowedly practise
within the city of Edinburgh and suburbs.’ It was intimated at the same
time, that there is ‘now also a profane and deluded crew of enthusiasts,
set up in this place, who, under pretence to the spirit of prophecy, do
utter most horrid blasphemies against the ever-glorious Trinity, such as
ought not to be suffered in any Christian church or nation.’
Sir George Maxwell of Orchardton, in
the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, having gone over to the Church of Rome,
and the next heir, who was a Protestant, being empowered by the statute of
1700 to claim his estate, his uncle, Thomas Maxwell of Gelstoun, a man of
seventy years of age, came forward on this adventure (June 1704), further
demanding that the young baronet should be decerned to pay him six
thousand merks as a year’s rent of his estate for employing George Maxwell
of Munshes, a known papist, to be his factor, and five hundred more from
Munshes himself for accepting the trust.
A petition presented by the worthy
Protestant uncle to the Privy Council, makes us aware that George Maxwell
of Munshes, ‘finding he would be reached for accepting the said factory,
out of malice raised a lawburrows,’ in which Orehardton concurred, though
out of the kingdom, against Gelstoun and his son, as a mere pretext for
stopping proceedings; but he trusted the Lords would see through the
trick, and defeat it by accepting the cautioners be offered for its
suspension. The Council, doubtless duly indignant that a papist should so
try to save his property, complied with Gelstoun’s petition.
Apr 12
A statute of the Sixth James, anno 1621—said to have been borrowed from
one of Louis XIII. of France—had made it unlawful for any tavern-keeper to
allow individuals to play in his house at cards and dice, or for any one
to play at such games in a private house, unless where the master of the
house was himself playing; likewise ordaining, that any sum above a
hundred merks gained at horse-racing, or in less than twenty-four hours at
other play, should be forfeited to the poor of the district. During the
ensuing period of religious strictness, we hear little of gambling in
Scotland, but when the spring was relaxed, it began to reappear with other
vices of ease and prosperity. A case, reported in the lair-books under
July 1688, makes us aware, as by a peep through a curtain, that gentlemen
were accusstomed at that time to win and lose at play sums which appear
large in comparison with incomes and means then general. It appears that
Captain Straiton, who was well known afterwards as a busy Jacobite
partisan, won from Sir Alexander Gilmour of Craigmillar, at cards, in one
night, no less than six thousand merks, or £338, 6s. 8d. sterling.
The captain first gained four thousand, for which he obtained a bond from
Sir Alexander; then be gained two thousand more, and got a new bond for
the whole. An effort was made to reduce the bond, but without success.
Francis Charteris, a cadet of an
ancient and honourable family in Dumfriesshire, and who had served in
Marlborough’s wars, was now figuring in Edinburgh as a member of the
beau monde, with the reputation of being a highly successful gambler.
There is a story told of him—but I cannot say with what truth—that, being
at the Duke of Qucensberry’s one evening, and playing with the duchess, he
was enabled, by means of a mirror, or more probably a couple of mirrors
placed opposite each other, to see what cards she had in her hand, through
which means he gained from her Grace no less a sum than three thousand
pounds. It is added that the duke was provoked by this incident to get a
bill passed through the parliament over which he presided, for prohibiting
gambling beyond a certain moderate sum; but this must be a mistake, as no
such act was then passed by the Scottish Estates; nor was any such statute
necessary, while that of 1621 remained in force. We find, however, that
the Town Council at this date issued an act of theirs, threatening
vigorous action upon the statute of 1621, as concerned playing at cards
and dice in public houses, as ‘the occasion of horrid cursing,
quarrelling, tippling, loss of time, and neglect of necessary business—the
constables to be diligent in detecting offenders, on pain of having to pay
the fines themselves.’ Perhaps it was at the instigation of the duke that
this step was taken.
From Fountainhall we learn that,
about 1707, Sir Andrew Ramsay of Abbotshall lost 28,000 merks, to Sir
Scipio Hill, at cards and dice, and granted a bond upon his estate for the
amount. This being in contravention of the act of 1621, the kirk-treasurer
put in his claim for all above 100 merks on behalf of the poor, but we do
not learn with what success. |