1704, July 4
Sir Thomas Dalyell of Binns—grandson of the old bearded persecutor of the
times of the Charleses—had for a long time past been ‘troubled with a sore
disease which affects his reason, whereby he is continually exposed to
great dangers to his own person, by mobs, and others that does trouble
him.’ It was also found that by the force of his disease, he is liable to
squander away and dilapidate his best and readiest effects, as is too
notourly known.’ Such is the statement of Sir Thomas's nephew, Robert Earl
of Carnwath; his sister, Magdalen Dalyell and her husband, James Monteith
of Auldcathie, craving authority, ‘for the preservation of his person and
estate, and also for the public peace,’ to take him into custody in his
house of Binns, ‘till means be used for his recovery;’ likewise power to
employ a factor ‘for uplifting so much of his rents as may be necessar for
his subsistence, and the employing doctors and apothecaries, according to
the exigence of his present condition.’
The Council not only granted the
petition, but ordained that the ppractioners might order up a soldier or
two at any time
from Blackness, to assist in restraining the unfortunate gentleman.
This Sir Thomas Dalyell died unmarried, leaving his
estates and baronetcy to a son of his sister Magdalen, grandfather of the
present baronet. The case is cited as shewing the arrangements for a
lunatic man of rank in the days of Queen Anne.
July
The central authorities were now little inclined to take up cases of
sorcery; but it does not appear that on that account witches ceased to be
either dreaded or punished. Country magistrates and clergy were always to
be found who sympathised with the popular terrors on the subject, and were
ready to exert themselves in bringing witches to justice.
At the village of Torryburn, in the
western part of Fife, a woman called Jean Neilson experienced a tormenting
and not very intelligible ailment, which she chose to attribute to the
malpractices of a woman named Lillias Adie. Adie was accordingly taken up
by a magistrate, and put in prison. On the 29th July, the minister and his
elders met in session, called Lillias before them, and were gratified with
an instant confession, to the effect that she had been a witch for several
years, having met the devil at the side of a ‘stook’ on the harvest-field,
and renounced her baptism to him, not without a tender embrace, on which
occasion she found that his skin was cold, and observed his feet cloven
like those of a stirk. She had also joined in midnight dances where he was
present. Once, at the back of Patrick Sands’s house in Valleyfield, the
festivity was lighted by a light that ‘came from darkness,’ not so bright
as a candle, but sufficient to let them see each other’s faces, and shew
the devil, who wore a cap covering his ears and neck. Several of tho women
she saw on these occasions she now delated as witches. The session met
again and again to hear such recitals, and to examine the newly accused
persons. There was little reported but dance-meetings of the alleged
witches, and conversations with the devil, the whole bearing very much the
character of what we have come to recognise as hallucinations or spectral
illusions. Yet the ease of Adie was considered sufficient to infer the
pains of death, and she was burned within the sea-mark. There were several
other selemn meetings of the session to inquire into the cases of the
other women accused by Adie; but we do not learn with what result.
The extreme length to which this
afihir was carried may be partly attributed to the zeal of the niinistcr,
the Rev. Allan Logan, who is said to have been particularly knowing in the
detection of witches. At the administration of the communion, he would
east his eye along, and say: ‘You witch-wife, get up from the table of the
Lord,’ when some poor creature, perhaps conscience-struck with a
recollection of wicked thoughts, would rise and depart, thus exposing
herself to the hazard of a regular acensation afterwards. He used to
preach against witchcraft, and we learn that, in 1709, a woman called
Helen Key was acensed before the Torryhnrn session of using some
disrespectful language about him in consequence. She told a neighbour, it
appears, that on hearing him break out against the witches, she thought
him ‘daft’ [mad] and took up her stool and left the kirk. For this she was
convicted of profanity, and ordained to sit before the congregation and be
openly rebuked.
Rather earlier in the year, there
was a remarkable outbreak of diablerie at the small seaport burgh of
Pittenweem, in the eastern part of Fife. Here lived a woman named Beatrix
or Beatie Laing, described as ‘spouse to William Brown, tailor, late
treasurer of the burgh,' and who must therefore be inferred to have been
not quite amongst the poorer class of people. In a petition from the
magistrates (June 13, 1704) to the Privy Council, it was stated that
Patrick Morton was a youth of sixteen, ‘free of any known vice,’ and that,
being employed by his father to make some nails for a ship belonging to
one of the merchants in Pittenweem, he was engaged at that work in his
father’s smithy, when Beatrix Laing came and desired him to make some
nails for her. He modestly refused, alleging that he was engaged in
another job requiring haste, whereupon she went away ‘threatening to be
revenged, which did somewhat frighten him, because he knew she was under a
bad fame and reputed for a witch.’
Next day, as he passed Beatrix’s
door, ‘he observed a timber vessel with some water and a fire-coal in it
at the door, which made him apprehend that it was a charm laid for him,
and the effects of her threatening; and immediately he was seized with
such a weakness in his limbs, that he could hardly stand or walk.’ He
continued for many weeks in a languishing condition, in spite of all that
physicians could do for him, ‘still growing worse, having no appetite, and
his body strangely emaciated. About the beginning of May, his case altered
to the worse by his having such strange and unusual fits as did astonish
all on-lookers. His belly at times was distended to a great height; at
other times, the bones of his back and breast did rise to a prodigious
height, and suddenly fell,’ while his breathing ‘was like to the blowing
of a bellows.’ At other times, ‘his body became rigid and inflexible,
insomuch that neither his arms nor legs could be bowed or moved by any
strength, though frequently tried,’ His senses were ‘benuinbed, and yet
his pulse [continued] in good order.' His head sometimes turned half
about, and no force could turn it back again. He suffered grievous
agonies. His tongue was occasionally drawn back in his throat, ‘especially
when he was telling who were his tormentors.’ Sometimes the magistrates or
minister brought these people to his house, and before he saw them, he
would cry out they were coming, and name them. The bystanders would cover
his face, bring in the women he had accused of tormenting him, besides
others, and cause them to touch him in succession; when be expressed pain
as the alleged tormentors laid their hands upon him, and in the other
instances ‘no effect followed.’ It seemed to the magistrates that the
young man was in much the same condition with ‘that of Bargarran’s
daughter in the west.’
Beatrix, and the other accused
persons, were thrown into the jail of the burgh by the minister and
magistrates, with a guard of drunken fellows to watch over them. Beatrix
steadily refused to confess being a witch, and was subjected to pricking,
and kept awake for five days and nights, in order to bring her to a
different frame of mind. Sorely wounded, and her life a burden to her, she
at length was forced, in order to be rid of the torment, to admit what was
imputed to her. It will thus be observed that the humane practice
maintained during the whole of the late cavalier reigns, of only accepting
voluntary confessions from persons taxed with witchcraft, was no
longer in force, The poor woman afterwards avowing that what she
had told them of her seeing the devil and so forth was false, ‘they put
her in the stocks, and then carried her to the Thieves’ Hole, and from
that transported her to a dark dungeon, where she was allowed no manner of
light, or human converse, and in this condition she lay for five months.’
During this interval, the sapient magistrates, with their parish minister,
were dealing with the Privy Council to get the alleged witches brought to
trial. At first, the design was entertained of taking them to Edinburgh
for that purpose; but nhiinatcly, through the humane interference of the
Earl of Balcarres and Lord Anstruther, two members of council connected
with the district, the poor svoinen were set at liberty on bail August 12.
This, however, was so much in opposition to the will of the rabble,
that Beatrix Laing was obliged to decamp from her native town, ‘She
wandered about in strange places, in the extremity of hunger and cold,
though she had a competency at home, but dared not come near her own house
for fear of the fury and rage of the people.’
It was indeed well for this
apparently respectable woman that she, for the meantime, remained at a
distance from home, While she was wandering about, another woman, named
Janet Corufoot, was put in confinement at Pittenweem, under a specific
charge from Alexander Macgregor, a fisherman, to the effect that he had
been beset by her and two others one night, along with the devil, while
sleeping in his bed. By torture, Cornfoot was forced into acknowledging
this fact, which she afterwards denied privately, nuder equal terror for
the confession and the retractation. however, her case beginning to
attract attention from some persons of rank and education in the
neighbourhood, the minister seems to have become somewhat doubtful of it,
and by his connivance she escaped. Almost immediately, an officious
clergyman of the neighbourhood apprehended her again, and sent her back to
Pittenweem in the custody of two men.
Falling there into the hands of the
populace, the wretched woman was tied hard up in a rope, beaten
unmercifully, and then dragged by the heels through the streets and along
the shore. The appearance of a bailie for a brief space dispersed the
crowd, but only to shew how easily the authorities might have protected
the victim, if they had chosen. Resuming their horrible work, the rabble
tied Janet to a rope stretching between a vessel in the harbour and the
shore, swinging her to and fro, and amusing themselves by pelting her with
stones. Tiring at length of this sport, they let her down with a sharp
fall upon the beach, beat her again unmercifully, and finally, covering
her with a door, pressed her to death (January 30, 1705). A daughter of
the unhappy woman was in the town, aware of what was going on, but
prevented by terror from interceding.
This barbarity lasted altogether three hours,
without any adequate interruption from either minister or magistrates.
Nearly about the same time, Thomas Brown, one of those accused by the
blacksmith, died in prison, ‘after a great deal of hunger and hardship;’
and the bodies of both of these victims .of superstition were denied
Christian burial.
The matter attracted the attention
of the Privy Council, who appointed a committee to inquire into it, but
the ringleaders of the mob had fled; so nothing could be immediately done.
After some time, they were allowed to return to the town free of
molestation on account of the murder. Well, then, might Beatrix Laing
dread returning to her husband’s comfortable house in this benighted
burgh. After a few months, beginning to gather courage, she did return,
yet not without being threatened by the rabble with the fate of Janet
Cornfoot; wherefore it became necessary for her to apply to the Privy
Council for a protection. By that court an order was accordingly issued to
the Pittenweem magistrate; commanding them to defend her from any tumults,
insults, or violence that might be offered to her.
At the close of this year, George
and Lachlan Rattray were in durance at Invernes; ‘alleged guilty of the
horrid crimes of mischievous charms, by witchcraft and malefice, sorcery
or necromancy.’ It being inconvenient to bring them to Edinburgh for
trial, the Lords of Privy Council issued a commission to Forbes of
Culloden, Rose of Kilravock, Baillie, commissary of Inverness, and some
other gentlemen, to try the offenders. tile judges, however, were enjoined
to transmit their judgment for consideration, and not allow it to be put
in execution without warrant from the Council.
On the 16th July 1706, a committee
of Council took into consideration the verdict in the case of the two
Rattrays, and finding it ‘agreeable to the probation,’ ordained the men to
be executed, under the care of the magistrates of Invernes; on the last
Wednesday of September next to come. This order is subscribed by Montrose,
Bnchan, Korthesk, Forfar, Torphicheri, Elibank, James Stewart, Gilbert
Elliot, and Alexander Douglas.
Aug 23
The functions of the five Lords Commissioners of Justiciary being of the
utmost importance, ‘concerning both the lives and fortunes of her
majesty’s lieges,’ the parliament settled on these officers a salary of
twelve hundred pounds Scots each, being about one hundred pounds
sterling.’ They had previously had the same income nominally, but being
payable by precept of the commissioners of the treasury, or the
cash-keeper, it was, like most such dues, difficult to realise, and,
perhaps, could scarcely be said to exist.
At this time, the fifteen judges of
the Court of Session had each two hundred pounds sterling per annum, the
money being derived from a grant of £20,000 Scots out of the customs and
interest on certain sums belonging to the court. Five of them, who were
lords of the criminal court also, were, as we here see, endowed with a
further salary, making three hundred in all. The situation of president—’
ane imployment of great weight, requiring ane assiduous and close
application,’ says the second President Dalrymple’—had usually, in
addition to the common salary, a pension, and a present of wines from the
Treasury, making up his income to about a thousand a year. By the grace of
Queen Anne, after the Union, the puisne judges of the Court of Session got
£300 a year additional, making five hundred in all ;‘ and this was their
income for many years thereafter, the president continuing to have one
thousand per annum. In the salaries of the same officers at the present
day—-£3000 to a puisne civil judge, with expenses when he goes on circuit;
£4800 to the President; and to the Lord Justice-clerk, £4500—we see, as
powerfully as in anything, the contrast between the Scotland of a hundred
and fifty years ago, and the Scotland of our own time.
Aug 30
Patrick Smith professed to have found out a secret ‘whereby malt may be
dried by all sorts of fuel, whether coals, wood, or turf; so as to receive
no impression from the smoke thereof; and that in a more short and less
expensive manner than hath been known in the kingdom.’ He averred that
‘the drink brewn of the said malt will be as clear as white wine, free of
all bad tincture, more relishing and pleasant to the taste, and altogether
more agreeable to human health than the ale hath been heretofore known in
the kingdom.’ Seeing how ‘ale is the ordinary drink of the inhabitants
thereof;’ the public utility of the discovery was obvious. Patrick
announced himself to the Privy Council as willing to communicate his
secret for the benefit of the country, if allowed during a certain term to
use it in an exclusive manner, and sell the same right to others.
Their Lordships granted the desired
privilege for nine years.
Aug 30
Ever since the year 1691, there had been a garrison of government soldiers
in Invergarry House, in Inverness-shire, the residence of Macdonald of
Glengarry. The proprietor esteemed himself a sufferer to the extent of a
hundred and fifty pounds a year, by damages to his lands and woods,
besides the want of the use of his house, which had been reduced to a
ruinous condition; and he now petitioned the government for some redress,
as well as for a removal of the garrison, the ‘apparent cause’ of planting
which had long ago ceased, ‘all that country being still peaceable and
quiet in due obedience to authority, without the least apprcliension of
disturbance or commotion.’
The Council ordered Macdonald to be
heard in his own cause before the Lords of the Treasury, in presence of
Brigadier Maitland, governor of Fort-William, that a statement might be
drawn up and laid before the queen. ‘his circumstances,’ however, ‘being
such, that he cannot safely appear before their Lordships without ane
personal protection,’ the Council had to grant a writ discharging all
macers and messengers from putting any captions to execution against him
up to the 20th of September.
Before the time for the conference
arrived, the Duke of Argyle put in a representation making a claim upon
Glengarry’s estate, so that it became necessary to call in the aid of the
Lord Advocate to make up the statement for the royal consideration.
Sep 16
The family of the Gordons of Gicht have already attracted our attention by
their troubles as Catholics under Protestant persecution, and their
tendency to wild and lawless habits. After two generations of silence, the
family comes up again in antagonism to the law, but in the person of the
husband of an heiress. It appears that the Miss Gordon of Gicht who gave
birth to George Lord Byron, was not the first heiress who married
unfortunately.
The heretrix of this period
had taken as her husband Alexander Davidson, younger of Newton, who, on
the event, became with his father (a rich man) bound to relieve the mother
of his bride—’ the old Lady Gicht’—of the debts of the family, in requital
for certain advantages conferred upon him. The mother had married as a
second husband Major-general Buchan, who commanded the Cavalier army after
the death of Lord Dundee, till he was defeated by Sir Thomas Livingstone
at Cromdale. By and by, Alexander Davidson, under fair pretences, through
James Hamilton of Cowbairdie, borrowed from his mother-in-law her copy of
the marriage-contract, which had not yet been registered; and when the
family creditors applied for payment of their debts, he did not scruple to
send them, or allow them to go to the old Lady Gicht and her husband for
payment. They, beginning to feel distressed by the creditors, sought back
the copy of the contract for their protection; but as no entreaty could
induce Davidson to return it to Cowbairdie, they were obliged at last to
prosecute the latter gentleman for its restitution.
Cowbairdie, being at length, at the
instance of old Lady Gicht and her husband, taken upon a legal caption,
was, with the messenger, John Duff at the Milton of Fyvie, at the date
noted, on his way to prison, when Davidson came to him with many civil
speeches, expressive of his regret for what had taken place. He entreated
Duff to leave Cowbairdie there on his parole of honour, and go and
intercede with General Buchan and his wife for a short respite to his
prisoner, on the faith that the contract should be registered within a
fortnight, which he pledged himself should be done. Duff executed this
commission successfully; but when he came back, Davidson revoked his
promise. It chanced that another gentleman had meanwhile arrived at the
Milton, one Patrick Gordon, who had in his possession a caption against
Davidson for a common debt of a hundred pounds due to himself. Seeing of
what stuff Davidson was made, he resolved no longer to delay putting this
in execution; so he took Duff aside, and put the caption into his hand,
desiring him to take Gicht, as he was called, into custody, which was of
course immediately done.
In the midst of these complicated
proceedings; a message came from the young Lady Gicht, entreating them to
come to the family mansion, a few miles off where she thought all
difficulties might he accommodated. The whole party accordingly went
there, and were entertained very hospitably till about two o’clock in the
morning (Sunday), when the strangers rose to depart, and Davidson came out
to see them to horse, as a host was bound to do in that age, but with
apparently no design of going along with them. Duff was not so far blinded
by the Gicht hospitality, as to forget that he would be under a very heavy
responsibility if he should allow Davidson to slip through his fingers.
Accordingly, he reminded the laird that he was a prisoner, and must come
along with them; whereupon Davidson drew his sword, and called his
servants to the rescue, but was speedily overpowered by the messenger and
his assistant, and by the other gentlemen present. He and Cowbairdie were,
in short, carried back as prisoners that night to the Milton of Fyvie.
This place being on the estate of
Gicht, Duff bethought him next day that, as the tenants were going to
church, they might gather about their captive laird, and make an
unpleasant disturbance; so he took forward his prisoners to the next inn,
where they rested till the Sabbath was over. Even then, at Davidson’s
entreaty, he did not immediately conduct them to prison, but waited over
Monday and Tuesday, while friends were endeavouring to bring about an
accommodation. This was happily so far effected, the Earl of Aberdeen, and
his son Lord Haddo, paying off Mr Gordon’s claim on Davidson, and certain
relatives becoming bound for the registration of the marriage-contract.
From whatever motive—whether, as
alleged, to cover a vitiation in the contract, or merely out of
revenge—Davidson soon after raised a process before the Privy Council
against Cowbairdie, Gordon, and Duff, for assault and private
imprisonment, concluding for three thousand pounds of damages; but after a
long series of proceedings, in the course of which many witnesses were
examined on both sides, the case was ignominiously dismissed, and Davidson
decerned to pay a thousand merks as expenses.
Dec
Cash being scarce in the country, a rumour arose—believed to be promoted
by malicious persons—that the Privy Council intended by proclamation to
raise the value of the several coins then current. The unavoidable
consequence was a run upon the Bank of Scotland, which lasted twenty days,
and with such severity, that at last the money in its coffers was
exhausted, and payments at the bank were suspended; being the only
stoppage or suspension, properly so called, which has ever taken place in
this venerable institution since its starting in 1695, down to the present
day, besides one of an unimportant character, to be afterwards adverted
to. ‘That no person possessed of bank-notes should be a loser, by having
their money lie dead and useless, the proprietors of the bank, in a
general meeting, declared all banknotes then current to bear interest from
the day that payments were stopped, until they should be called in by the
directors in order to payment.’
The Court of Directors (December 19)
petitioned the Privy Council to send a committee to inspect their books,
and ‘therein see the sufficiency of the security to the nation for the
bank-notes that are running, and to take such course as in their wisdom
they might think fit, for the satisfaction of those who might have
banknotes in their hands.’
Accordingly, a committee of Council,
which included Lord Belhaven, the President of the Court of Session, the
Lord Advocate, and the Treasurer-depute, met in the bank-office at two
o’clock next day; and having examined the accounts both in charge and
discharge, found that ‘the bank hath sufficient provisions to satisfy and
pay all their outstanding bills and debts, and that with a considerable
overplus, exceeding by a fourth part at least the whole foresaid bills and
debts, conform to ane abstract of the said account left in the clerk of
Council’s hands for the greater satisfaction of all concerned.’
This report being, by permission of
the Privy Council, printed, ‘gave such universal satisfaction, that
payments thereafter were as current as ever, and no stop in business,
everybody taking banknotes, as if no stop had been for want of specie,
knowing that they would at last get their money with interest.
‘At this time, the Company thought
fit to call in a tenth of stock [£10,000] from the adventurers, which was
punctually paid by each adventurer [being exactly a duplication of the
acting capital, which was only £10,000 before]; and in less than five
months thereafter, the Company being possessed of a good cash, the
directors called in the notes that were charged with interest, and issued
new notes, or made payments in money, in the option of the possessors of
the old notes. And very soon the affairs and negotiations of the bank went
on as formerly, and all things continued easy until the year 1708.’
Dec
Notwithstanding the extreme poverty now universally cornplained of,
whenever a man of any figure or importance died, there was enormous
expense incurred in burying him. On the death, at this time, of Lachian
Mackintosh of Mackintosh—that is, the chief of the clan Mackintosh—there
were funeral entertainments at his mansion in inverness-shire for a whole
month. Cooks and confectioners were brought from Edinburgh, at great
expense, to provide viands for the guests, and liquors were set aflowing
in the greatest profusion. On the day of the interment, the friends and
dependants of the deceased made a procession, reaching all the way from
Dalcross Castle to the kirk of Petty, a distance of four miles! ‘It has
been said that the expense incurred on this occasion proved the source of
pecuniary embarrassments to the Mackintosh family to a recent period.
In the same month died Sir William
Hamilton, who had for several years held the office of a judge under the
designation of Lord Whitelaw, and who, for the last two months of his
life, was Lord Justice-clerk, and consequently, in the arrangements of
that period, an officer of state. It had pleased his lordship to assign
the great bulk of his fortune, being £7000 sterling, to his widow, the
remainder going to his heir, Hamilton of Bangour, of which family he was a
younger son. Lord Whitelaw was buried in the most pompous state, chiefly
under direction of the widow, but, to all appearance, with the concurrence
of the heir, who took some concern in the arrangements, or at least was
held as sanctioning the whole affair by his presence as chief monrner. The
entire expenses were £5189 Scots, equal to £432, 8s 4d. sterling, being
more than two years’ salary of a judge of the Court of Session at that
time. The lady paid the tradesmen’s bills out of her ‘donative,’ which was
thought a singularly large one; but, by and by, marrying again, she raised
an action against Bangour, craving allowance for Lord Whitelaw’s funeral
charges ‘out of her intromission with the excentry ‘—that is, out of the
proceeds of the estate, apart from her jointure. The heir represented that
the charges were inordinate, while his inheritance was small; but this
view of the matter does not appear to have been conclusive, for the Lords,
by a plurality, decided that the funeral expenses of a deceased person
‘must be allowed to the utmost of what his character and quality will
admit, without regard to what small part of his fortune may come to his
heir. They did, indeed, afterwards modify this decision, allowing only
just and necessary expenses; but, what is to our present purpose, they do
not appear to have been startled at the idea of spending as much as two
years of a man’s income in laying him under the soil.
The account of expenses at the
funeral of a northern laird—Sir Hugh Campbell of Calder, who died in March
1716—gives us, as it were, the anatomy of one of these ruinous
ceremonials. There was a charge of £55, 18s. ‘to buy ane cow, ane ox, five
kids, two wedders, eggs, geese, turkeys, pigs, and moorfowl,’ the
substantials of the entertainment. Besides £40 for brandy to John Finlay
in Forres, £25, 4s. for claret to John Roy in Forres, £82, 6s to Bailie
Cattenach at Aberdeen for claret, and £35 to John Fraser in Clunas for
‘waters ‘—that is, whisky—there was a charge by James Cuthbert, merchant,
of £407, 6s. 4d. for ‘22 pints brandy at 48s. per pint, 18 wine-glasses, 6
dozen pipes, and 3 lb. cut tobacco, 2 pecks of apples, 2 gross corks, one
large pewter flagon at £6, and one small at £3, currants, raisins,
cinnamon, nutmegs, mace, ginger, confeeted carvy, orange and citron peel,
two pair black shanibo gloves for women,’ and two or three other small
articles. There was also £40 for flout’, £39, 12s. to the cooks and
baxters, and ‘to malt brewn from the said Sir Hugh’s death to the
interment, sixteen boils and ane half;’ £88.
Sir Hugh’s body lay from the 11th to the 29th
March, and during these eighteen days there had been ale for all corners.
The outlay for ‘oils, cerecloth, and frankincense,’ used for the body, was
£60; for ‘two coffins, tables, and other work,’ £110, 13s. 4d.; for the
hearse and adornments connected with it (inclusive of ‘two mort-heads at
40s. the piece’), £358. With the expenses for the medical attendant, a
suit of clothes to the minister, and some few other matters, the whole
amounted to £1647, 16s. 4d., Scots money.’ This sum, it will be observed,
indicates a comparatively moderate funeral for a man of such eminence; and
we must multiply everything by three, in order to attain a probable notion
of the eating, the drinking, and the pomp and grandeur which attended Lord
Whitelaw’s obsequies.
The quantity of liquor
consumed at the Laird of Calder’s funeral suggests that the house of the
deceased must have been, on such occasions, the scene of no small amount
of conviviality. It was indeed expected that the guests should plentifully
regale themselves with both meat and drink, and in the Highlands
especially the chief mourner would have been considered a shabby person if
he did not press them to do so. At the funeral of Mrs Forbes of Culloden,
or, to use the phrase of the day, Lady Culloden, her son Duncan, who
afterwards became Lord President of the
Court of Session, conducted the festivities. The company sat long and
drank largely, but at length the word being given for what was called the
lifting, they rose to proceed to the burial-ground. The gentlemen
mounted their horses, the commonalty walked, and all duly arrived at the
churchyard, when, behold, no one could give any account of the corpse.
They quickly became aware that they had left the house without thinking of
that important part of the ceremonial; and Lady Culloden still reposed in
the chamber of death. A small party was sent back to the house to ‘bring
on’ the corpse, which was
then deposited in the grave with all the
decorum which could be mustered in such anti-funereal circumstances.
Strange as this tale may read, there
is reason to believe that the occurrence was not unique. It is alleged to
have been repeated at the funeral of Mrs Home of Billie, in Berwickshire,
in the middle of the eighteenth century.
In our own age, we continually hear
of the vice of living for appearances, as if it were something quite
unknown heretofore; but the truth is, that one of the strongest points of
contrast between the past and the present times, is the comparative
slavery of our ancestors to irrational practices which were deemed
necessary to please the eye of society, while hurtful to the individual.
This slavery was shewn very strikingly in the customs attending funerals,
and not merely among people of rank, but in the humblest grades of the
community. It was also to be seen very remarkably in the custom of
pressing hospitality on all occasions beyond the convenience of guests,
in
drinking beyond one’s own convenience to encourage
them, and in the customs of the table generally; not less so in the
dresses and decorations of the human figure, in all of which infinitely
more personal inconvenience was submitted to, nuder a sense of what was
required by fashion, than there is at the present day.
1705, Jan
Roderick Mackenzie, secretary to the African Company, advertised what was
called An Adventure for the Curious—namely, a raffle for the
possession of ‘a pair of extraordinary fine Indian screens,’ by a hundred
tickets at a guinea each. The screens were described as being on sight at
his office in Mylne’s Square, but only by ticket (price 3d.),
in
order to prevent that pressure of the mob which might
otherwise be apprehended. In these articles, the public was assured, ‘the
excellence of art vied with the wonderfulness of nature,’ for they
represented a ‘variety of several kinds of living creatures, intermixed
with curious trees, plants, and flowers, all done in raiscd, embossed,
loose, and coloured work, so admirably to the life, that, at any
reasonable distance, the most discerning eye can scarcely distinguish
those images from the real things they represent.’ Nothing of the kind, it
was avcrrcd, bad ever been seen in Scotland before, ‘excepting one screen
of six leaves only, that is now in the palace at Hamilton.’
Jan 5
A general arming being now contemplated under the Act of Security, it
became important that arms should be obtained cheaply within the country,
instead of being brought, as was customary, from abroad. James Donaldson,
describing himself as ‘merchant in Edinburgh,’ but identical with the
Captain Donaldson who had established the Edinburgh Gazette in
1699, came forward as an enterpriser who could help the country in this
crisis. He professed to have, ‘after great pains, found out ane effectual
way to make machines, whereby several parts of the art and calling of
smith-craft, particularly with relation to the making of arms, may be
performed without the strength and labour of men, such as blowing with
bellows, boring with run spindles, beating with hammers, [and] striking of
files.' He craved permission of the Privy Council to set up a work for the
making of arms in this economical way, with exclusive privileges for a
definite period, as a remuneration.
The Council remitted the matter to
the deacon of the smiths, for his judgment, which was very much putting
the lamb’s case to the wolf’s decision. The worshipful deacon by and by
reported that James Donaldson was well known to possess no mechanic skill,
particularly in smith-work, so that his proposal could only be ]ooked upon
as ane engine to inhaunce a little money to supply his necessity.’ The
ordinary smiths were far more fit to supply the required arms, and had
indeed a right to do so, a right which Donaldson evidently meant to
infringe upon. In short, Donaldson was an insufferable interloper in a
business he had nothing to do with. The Council gave force to this report
by refusing Donaldson’s petition.
Not satisfied with this decision,
Donaldson, a few days later, presented a new petition, in which he more
clearly explained the kinds of smith-work which he meant to facilitate
namely, forging, boring, and beating of gun barrels, cutting of files,
[and] grinding and polishing of firearms.’ He - exhibited - ‘the model of
the engine for boring and polishing of gun-barrels, and demonstrated the
same, so that their lordships commended the same as ingenious and very
practicable.’ He further disclaimed all idea of interfering with the
privileges of the hammermen of Edinburgh, his ‘motive being nothing else
than the public good and honour of his country,’ and his intention being
to set up his work in a different place from the capital. What he claimed
was no more than what had been granted to other ‘inventors of engines and
mechanical improvements, as the manufactures for wool and tow cards, that
for gilded leather, the gunpowder manufacture, &c,’
The Lords, learning that much of the
opposition of the hammer-men was withdrawn, granted the privileges
claimed, on the condition that the work should not be set up in any royal
burgh, and should not interfere with the rights of the Edinburgh
corporation.
Feb 2
Under strong external professions of religious conviction, rigorous
Sabbath observance, and a general severity of manners, there prevailed
great debauchery, which wonld now and then come to the surface. On this
evening there had assembled a party in Edinburgh, who carried drink and
excitement to such a pitch, that nothing less than a dance in the streets
would satisfy them. There was Ensign Fleming of a Scots regiment in the
Dutch service (son of Sir James Fleming, late provost of Edinburgh); there
were Thomas Burnet, one of the guards; and John, son of the late George
Gaibraith, merchant. The ten o’clock bell had rung, to warn all good
citizens home. The three bacchanals were enjoying their frolic in the
decent Lawnmarket, where there was no light but what might come from the
windows of the neighbouring houses; when suddenly there approaches a
sedan-chair, attended by one or two footmen, one of them carrying a
lantern. It was the Earl of Leven, governor of the Castle, and a member of
the Privy Council, passing home to his aorial lodging. Most perilous was
it to meddle with such a person; but the merry youths were too far gone in
their madness to inquire who it was or think of consequences; so, when
Galbraith came against ome of the footmen, and was warned or be answered
with an imprecation, and, turning to Fleming and Burnet, told them what
had passed. Fleming said it would be brave sport for them. to go after the
chair and overturn it in the mud; whereupon the three assailed Lord
Leven’s servants, and broke the lantern. His lordship spoke indignantly
from his chair, and Fleming, drawing his sword, wounded one of the
servants, but was quickly overpowered along with his companions.
The young delinquents speedily
became aware of the quality of the man they had insulted, and were of
course in great alarm, Fleming in particular being apprehensive of losing
his commission. After a month’s imprisonment, they were glad to come and
make public profession of penitence on their knees before the Council, in
order to obtain their liberty.’
On a Sunday, early in the same
month, four free-living gentlemen, inclnding Lord Blantyre—then a hot
youth of two-and-twenty—drove in a hackney-coach to Leith, and sat in the
tavern of a Mrs Innes all the time of the afternoon-service. Thereafter
they went out to take a ramble on the sands, but by and by returned to
drinking at the tavern of a Captain Kendal, where they carried on the
debauch till eight o’clock in the evening. Let an Edinburgh correspondent
of Mr Wodrow tell the remainder of the story. Being all drunk—’ when they
were coming hack to Edinbnrgh, in the very street of Leith, they called
furiously to the coachman and post-boy to drive. The fellows, I think,
were drunk, too, and ran in on the side of the causey, dung down [knocked
over] a woman, and both the fore and hind wheel went over her. The poor
woman cried; however, the coach went on; the woman died in half an hour.
Word came to the Advocate to-morrow morning, who caused seize the two
fellows, and hath been taking a precognition of the witnesses . . . . it
will be a great pity that the gentlemen that were in the coach be not
soundly fined for breach of Sabbath. One of them had once too great a
profession to [make it proper that he should] be guilty now of such a
crime.’
The desire to see these scapegraces
punished for what was called breach of Sabbath without any regard to that
dangerous rashness of conduct which had led to the loss of an innocent
life, is very characteristic of Mr Wodrow’s style of correspondents.
Feb 19
Donaldson’s paper, The
Edinburgh Gazette, which
had been established in 1699, continued in existence; and in the
intermediate time there had also been many flying broadsides printed and
sold on the streets, containing accounts of extraordinary occurrences of a
remarkable nature, often scandalous. The growing inclination of the public
for intelligence of contemporary events was now shewn by the commencement
of a second paper in Edinburgh, under the title of The Edinburgh
Courant. The enterpriser, Adam Boig, announced that it would appear on
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, ‘containing most of the remarkable foreign
news from their prints, and also the home news from the ports within this
kingdom, when ships comes and goes, and from whence, which
it is hoped will
prove a great advantage to merchants and
others within this nation it being now
altogether neglected.’ Having obtained the
sanction of the Privy Council, he, at the date
noted, issued the
first number, consisting of a small folio in double columns, bearing to be
‘printed by James Watson in Craig’s
Close,’ and containing about as much literary
matter as a single column of a modern newspaper of moderate size. There
are two small paragraphs regarding criminal cases then pending, and the
following sole piece of mercantile intelligence: ‘Lxini, Feb.
16.—This day came in to our Port the Mary Galley, David Preshu,
commander, laden with wine and brandy.’ There are also three small
advertisements, one intimating the setting up of post-offices at Wigton
and New Galloway, another the sale of lozenges for the kinkhost
[chincough] at 8s the box.
The superior enterprise shewn in the
conducting of the Courant, aided, perhaps, by some dexterous
commercial management, seems to have quickly told upon the circulation of
thc Gazette; and we must regret, for the sake of an old soldier,
that the proprietor of the latter was unwise enough to complain of this
result to the Privy Council, instead of trying to keep his ground by an
improvement of his paper. He insinuated that Boig, having first undersold
him by ‘giving his paper to the ballad-singers four shillings sterling] a
quire below the common price, as he did likewise to the postmaster,’ did
still ‘so practise the paper-criers,’ as to induce them to neglect the
selling of the Gazette, and set forth the Courant as
‘preferable both in respect of foreign and domestic news.’ By these
methods, ‘the Gourant gained credit with some,’ though all its
foreign news was ‘taken verbatim out of some of the London papers, and
most part out of Dyer’s Letter and the London Courant, which
are not of the best reputation.’ He, on the other hand, ‘did never omit
any domestic news that he judged pertinent, though he never meddled with
matters that he had cause to believe would not be acceptable, nor every
story and trifling matter lie heard.
A triumphant answer to snch a
complaint was but too easy. ‘The petitioner,’ says Boig, ‘complains that I
undersold him; that my Courant
bore nothing but what was collected from
foreign newspapers; and that it gained greater reputation than his
Gazette. As to the first, it was his fault if he kept the Gazette
too dear; and I must say that his profit cannot but be considerable
when he sells at my price, for all my news comes by the common post, and I
pay the postage; whereas John Bisset, his conjunct [that is partner], gets
his news all by the secretary’s packet free of postage, which is at least
eight shillings sterling a week free gain to them. As to the second, I own
that the foreign news was collected from other newspapers, and I suppose
Mr Donaldson has not his news from first hands more than I did. But the
truth is, the Courant bore more, for it always bore the home news,
especially anent our shipping, which I humbly suppose was one of the
reasons for its having a good report; and Mr Donaldson, though he had a
yearly allowance from the royal burghs, never touched anything of that
nature, nor settled a correspondent at any port in the kingdom, no, not so
much as at Leith. As to the third, it’s left to your Grace and Lordahips
to judge if it be a crime in me that the Gourant had a greater reputation
than the Gazette.’
Connected, however, with this
controversy, was an unlucky misadventure into which Boig had fallen, in
printing in his paper a petition to the Privy Council from Evandor M’Iver,
tacksman of the Scots Manufactory Paper-mills, and James Watson, printer,
for permission to complete the reprinting of an English book, entitled
War betwixt the British Kingdoms Considered. While these petitioners
thought only of their right to reprint English books ‘for the
encouragement of the paper-rnanufactory and the art of printing at home,
and for the keeping of money as much as may be in the kingdom,’ the
Council saw political inconvenience and danger in the book, and every
reference to it, and at once stopped both the Courant, in which the
advertisement appeared, and the Gazette, which piteously as well as
justly pleaded that it had in no such sort offended. It was in the course
of this affair that Donaldson complained of Boig’s successful rivalry, and
likewise of an invasion by another person of his monopoly of
burial-letters.
After an interruption of three
months, Adam Boig was allowed to resume his publication, upon giving
strong assurance of more cautious conduct in future. His paper continued
to flourish for several years. (See under March 6, 1706.) |