John Gait, poet, dramatist, historian, and novelist, was born
at Irvine, Ayrshire, Scotland, on May 2, 1779. He was trained
for a commercial career in the Greenock Custom House, and in
the office of a merchant in that seaport. Removing to London,
Gait engaged in business and afterwards travelled extensively
to forward mercantile enterprises in all the countries
bordering on the Mediterranean and the Near East, where he
repeatedly met Lord Byron. His first work of fiction was a
Sicilian story, published in 1816, but it was not until 1820
that he found his true literary expression, when the "Ayrshire
Legatees" appeared in "Blackwood's Magazine." The success of
this tale was so great that Gait finished the "Annals of the
Parish; or the Chronicle of Dalmailing, during the Ministry of
the Rev. Micah Balwhidder," which he had really begun in 1813,
and they were published in 1821. The "Annals" contain a lively
and humorous picture of Scottish character, manners, and
feeling during the era described. In the latter part of his
life Gait wrote several novels, a life of Byron, an
autobiography, and his "Literary Life and Miscellanies." He
died on April 11, 1838.
_I.--The Placing of Mr. Balwhidder_
The year A.D. 1760 was remarkable for three things in the parish of
Dalmailing. First and foremost, there was my placing, then the coming of
Mrs. Malcolm with her five children to settle among us, and next my
marriage with my own cousin, Miss Betty Lanshaw. The placing was a great
affair, for I was put in by the patron, and the people knew nothing of
me whatsoever. They were really mad and vicious, insomuch that there was
obliged to be a guard of soldiers to protect the presbytery. Dirt was
flung upon us as we passed, and the finger of scorn held out to me. But
I endured it with a resigned spirit, compassionating their wilfulness
and blindness.
The kirk door was nailed up and we were obligated to go in by the
window, making the Lord's house like an inn on a fair-day with their
grievous yelly hooing. Thomas Thorl, the weaver, a pious zealot, got up
at the time of the induction and protested, and said, "Verily, verily, I
say unto you, he that entereth not by the door of the sheepfold, but
climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber."
When the laying on of the hands upon me was adoing, Mr. Given, minister
of Lugton, a jocose man, who could not get near, stretched out his staff
and touched my head, saying, to the great diversion of the rest, "This
will do well enough--timber to timber."
After the ceremony we went to the manse, and there had an excellent
dinner. Although my people received me in this unruly manner, I was
resolved to cultivate civility among them; and next morning I began a
round of visitations. But, oh! it was a steep brae to climb. The doors
in some places were barred against me; in others the bairns ran crying
to their mothers, "Here's the feckless Mess-John." But Thomas Thorl
received me kindly, and said that this early visitation was a symptom of
grace, and that not to condemn me without trial he and some neighbours
would be at the kirk at the next Lord's day, so that I would not have to
preach just to the bare walls and the laird's family.
As to Mrs. Malcolm, she was the widow of a Clyde shipmaster that was
lost at sea with his vessel. A genty body, she never changed her widow's
weeds, and span frae morning tae nicht to keep her bairns and herself.
When her daughter Effie was ill, I called on her in a sympathising way,
and offered her some assistance frae the Session, but she refused help
out of the poor's-box, as it might be hereafter cast up to her bairns.
It was in the year 1761 that the great smuggling trade corrupted the
west coast. Tea was going like chaff, and brandy like well-water. There
was nothing minded but the riding of cadgers by day and excisemen by
night, and battles between the smugglers and the king's men, both by sea
and land; continual drunkenness and debauchery, and our Session had an
awful time o't.
I did all that was in my power to keep my people from the contagion. I
preached sixteen times from the text, "Render to Caesar the things that
are Caesar's." I visited, exhorted, warned, and prophesied, but the evil
got in among us. The third year of my ministry was long held in
remembrance. The small-pox came in among the poor bits o' weans of the
parish, and the smashing it made among them was woeful. When the
pestilence was raging, I preached a sermon about Rachel weeping for her
children, which Thomas Thorl, a great judge of good preaching, said,
"was a monument of divinity whilk searched the heart of many a parent
that day"--a thing I was well pleased to hear, and was minded to make
him an elder the next vacancy. But, worthy man, it was not permitted him
to arrive at that honour; for that fall it pleased Him that alone can
give and take to pluck him from this life.
In this year Charlie Malcolm, Mrs. Malcolm's eldest son, was sent to sea
in a tobacco-trader that sailed between Port Glasgow and Virginia.
Tea-drinking was beginning to spread more openly, in so much that by the
advice of the first Mrs. Balwhidder, Mrs. Malcolm took in tea to sell to
eke out something to the small profits of her wheel. I lost some of my
dislike to the tea after that, and we had it for breakfast at the manse
as well as in the afternoon. But what I thought most of it for was that
it did no harm to the head of the drinkers, which was not always the
case with the possets in fashion before, when I remember decent ladies
coming home with red faces from a posset-masking. So I refrained from
preaching against tea henceforth, but I never lifted the weight of my
displeasure from off the smuggling trade, until it was utterly put down
by the strong hand of government.
_II.--The Minister's Second Marriage_
A memorable year, both in public and private, was 1763. The king granted
peace to the French. Lady Macadam, widow of General Macadam, who lived
in her jointure-house, took Kate Malcolm to live with her as companion,
and she took pleasure in teaching Kate all her accomplishments and how
to behave herself like a lady. The lint-mill on Lugton Water was burned
to the ground, with not a little of the year's crop of lint in our
parish. The first Mrs. Balwhidder lost upwards of twelve stone, which
was intended for sarking to ourselves and sheets and napery. A great
loss indeed it was, and the vexation thereof had a visible effect on her
health, which from the spring had been in a dwining way. But for it, I
think she might have wrestled through the winter. However, it was
ordered otherwise, and she was removed from mine to Abraham's bosom on
Christmas Day, and buried on Hogmanay, for it was thought uncanny to
have a dead corpse in the house on the New Year's Day.
Just by way of diversion in my heavy sorrow, I got a well-shapen
headstone made for her; but a headstone without a epitaph being no
better than a body without the breath of life in't, I made a poesy for
the monument, not in the Latin tongue, which Mrs. Balwhidder, worthy
woman as she was, did not understand, but in sedate language, which was
greatly thought of at the time. My servant lassies, having no eye of a
mistress over them, wasted everything at such a rate that, long before
the end of the year, the year's stipend was all spent, and I did not
know what to do. At lang and length I sent for Mr. Auld, a douce and
discreet elder, and told him how I was situated. He advised me, for my
own sake, to look out for another wife, as soon as decency would allow.
In the following spring I placed my affections, with due consideration,
on Miss Lizzy Kibbock, the well-brought-up daughter of Mr. Joseph
Kibbock, of the Gorbyholm, farmer; and we were married on the 29th day
of April, on account of the dread we had of being married in May, for it
is said, "Of the marriages in May, the bairns die of a decay." The
second Mrs. Balwhidder had a genius for management, and started a dairy,
and set the servant lassies to spin wool for making blankets and lint
for sheets and napery. She sent the butter on market days to Irville,
her cheese and huxtry to Glasgow. We were just coining money, in so much
that, after the first year, we had the whole tot of stipend to put into
the bank.
The opening of coal-pits in Douray Moor brought great prosperity to the
parish, but the coal-carts cut up the roads, especially the Vennel, a
narrow and crooked street in the clachan. Lord Eglesham came down from
London in the spring of 1767 to see the new lands he had bought in our
parish. His coach couped in the Vennel, and his lordship was thrown head
foremost into the mud. He swore like a trooper, and said he would get an
act of parliament to put down the nuisance. His lordship came to the
manse, and, being in a woeful plight, he got the loan of my best suit of
clothes. This made him wonderful jocose both with Mrs. Balwhidder and
me, for he was a portly man, and I but a thin body, and it was really
droll to see his lordship clad in my garments. Out of this accident grew
a sort of neighbourliness between Lord Eglesham and me.
_III.--A Runaway Match_
About Christmas, Lady Macadam's son, having been perfected in the art of
war at a school in France, had, with the help of his mother's friends
and his father's fame, got a stand of colours in the Royal Scots
Regiment. He came to show himself in his regimentals to his lady mother,
and during the visit he fell in love and entered into correspondence
with Kate Malcolm. A while after, her ladyship's flunkey came to the
manse and begged me to go to her. So I went; and there she was, with
gum-flowers on her head, sitting on a settee, for she was lame, and in
her hand she held a letter.
"Sir," she said, as I came into the room, "I want you to go instantly to
your clerk," meaning Mr. Lorimore, the schoolmaster, "and tell him I
will give him a couple of hundred pounds to marry Miss Malcolm without
delay."
"Softly, my lady; you must first tell me the meaning of all this haste
of kindness," said I, in my calm, methodical manner. At which she began
to sob, and bewail her ruin and the dishonour of her family. I was
confounded, but at length it came out that she had accidentally opened a
letter that had come from London for Kate, that she had read it, by
which she came to know that Kate and her darling son were trysted, and
that this was not the first love-letter which had passed between them.
Mr. Lorimore promptly declined her ladyship's proposal, as he was
engaged to be married to his present worthy helpmate. Although her
ladyship was so overcome with passion, she would not part with Kate, nor
allow her to quit the house.
Three years later the young Laird Macadam, being ordered with his
regiment for America, got leave from the king to come and see his lady
mother before his departure. But it was not to see her only. He arrived
at a late hour unwarned, lest his mother would send Kate out of the way;
but no sooner did her ladyship behold his face than she kindled upon
both him and Kate, and ordered them out of her sight and house. The
young folk had discretion. Kate went home to her mother, and the laird
came to the manse and begged us to take him in.
He asked me to perform the ceremony, as he was resolved to marry Kate.
We stepped over to Mrs. Malcolm's house, where we found the saintly
woman with Kate and Erne and Willie, preparing to read their Bible for
the night. After speaking to Mrs. Malcolm for a time, she consented to
the marriage. It was sanctified by me before we left Mrs. Malcolm's, the
young couple setting off in the laird's chaise to Glasgow, and
authorising me to break the matter to Lady Macadam. I was spared this
performance, for the servants jealoused what had been done, and told her
ladyship. When I entered the room she was like a mad woman in Bedlam.
She sent her coachman on horseback to overtake them, which he did at
Kilmarnock, and they returned in the morning, when her ladyship was as
cagey and meikle taken up with them as if they had gotten her full
consent and privilege from the first. Captain Macadam afterwards bought
a house at the Braehead, and gave it, with a judicious income, to Mrs.
Malcolm, telling her it was not becoming that she should any longer be
dependent upon her own industry. For this the young man got a name like
a sweet odour in all the country-side.
It will be remembered that Charlie Malcolm went a-sailing in a
tobacco-trader to America. When his ship was lying in the harbour of
Virginia, a press-gang, that was in need of men for the Avenger,
man-of-war, came on board and pressed poor Charles. I wrote to Lord
Eglesham anent the matter, and his lordship's brother being connected
with the Admiralty, the captain of the man-of-war was instructed to make
a midshipman of Charles. This was done, and Mrs. Malcolm heard from time
to time from her son, saying that he had found a friend in the captain,
that was just a father to him.
In the latter end of 1776, the man-of-war, with Charles Malcolm in her,
came to the Tail of the Bank at Greenock, and Charles got leave from his
captain to come and see his mother. He brought with him Mr. Howard,
another midshipman, the son of a great Parliament man in London. They
were dressed in their fine gold-laced garbs. When Charles had seen his
mother and his sister, Effie, he came with his friend to see me at the
manse, and got Mrs. Balwhidder to ask his friend to sleep there. In
short, we had a ploy the whole two days they stayed with us, Lady
Macadam made for them at a ball, and it was a delight to see how old and
young of all degrees made much of Charles.
_IV.--Years of Lamentation_
I was named in the year 1779 for the General Assembly, and Mrs.
Balwhidder, by her continual thrift, having made our purse able to stand
a shake against the wind, we resolved to go into Edinburgh in a
creditable manner. We put up at Widow M'Vicar's, a relation to my first
wife, a gawsy, furthy woman, taking great pleasure in hospitality. In
short, everybody in Edinburgh was in a manner wearisome kind.
I was delighted and surprised to find Lord Eglesham at the levee, and he
introduced me to his grace the Commissioner, who required me to preach
before him. Fain would I have eschewed the honour that was thus thrust
upon me; but both my wife and Mrs. M'Vicar were just lifted out of
themselves at the thought. After the sermon the Commissioner
complimented me on my apostolic earnestness, and Mrs. M'Vicar said I had
surprised everybody; but I was fearful there was something of jocularity
at the bottom of all this.
The year 1781 was one of dolour and tribulation, for Lord Eglesham was
shot dead by a poaching exciseman, and Lady Macadam died of paralysis;
but the year after was one of greater lamentation. Three brave young
fellows belonging to the clachan, who had gone as soldiers in America,
were killed in battle with the rebels, for which there was great grief.
Shortly after this the news came of a victory over the French fleet, and
by the same post I got a letter from Mr. Howard, the midshipman, telling
me that poor Charles had been mortally wounded in the action, and had
afterwards died of his wounds.
Mrs. Malcolm heard the news of the victory through the steeple bell
being set a-ringing, and she came over to the manse in great anxiety.
When I saw her I could not speak, but looked at her in pity, and, the
tears fleeing into my eyes, she guessed what had happened. After giving
a deep and sore sigh, she inquired, "How did he behave? I hope well, for
he was aye a gallant laddie!" And then she wept very bitterly. I gave
her the letter, which she begged me to give to her to keep, saying,
"It's all that I have left now of my pretty boy; but it is mair precious
to me than the wealth of the Indies!"
_V.--Death of the Second Mrs. Balwhidder_
Some time after this a Mr. Cayenne, a man of crusty temper but good
heart, and his family, American loyalists, settled among us. In the year
1788, a proposal came from Glasgow to build a cotton mill on the banks
of the Brawl burn, a rapid stream which ran through the parish. Mr.
Cayenne took a part in the profit or loss of the concern, and the cotton
mill and a new town was built, and the whole called Cayenneville.
Weavers of muslin were brought to the mill, and women to teach the
lassie bairns in our old clachan tambouring instead of hand-spinning.
Prosperity of fortune is like the golden hue of the evening cloud that
delighteth the spirit and passeth away. In the month of February 1796,
my second wife was gathered to the Lord. Her death was to me a great
sorrow, for she was a most excellent wife, industrious to a degree. With
her I had grown richer than any other minister in the presbytery.
I laid her by the side of my first love, Betty Lanshaw, and I inscribed
her name upon the same headstone. Time had drained my poetical vein, and
I have not yet been able to indite an epithet on her merits and virtues,
for she had an eminent share of both. Above all, she was the mother of
my children. She was not long deposited in her place of rest until
things fell into amazing confusion, and I saw it would be necessary, as
soon as decency would allow, for me to take another wife, both for a
helpmate, and to tend me in my approaching infirmities.
I saw it would not do for me to look out for an overly young woman, nor
yet would it do for one of my way to take an elderly maiden, ladies of
that sort being liable to possess strong-set particularities. I
therefore resolved that my choice should lie among widows of a discreet
age, and I fixed my purpose on Mrs. Nugent, the relict of a professor in
the University of Glasgow, both because she was a well-bred woman
without any children, and because she was held in great estimation as a
lady of Christian principle. And so we were married as soon as a
twelve-month and a day had passed from the death of the second Mrs.
Balwhidder; and neither of us have had occasion to rue the bargain.
_VI.--The Last Sermon_
Two things made 1799 a memorable year; the marriage of my daughter Janet
with the Rev. Dr. Kittleword of Swappington, a match in every way
commendable; and the death of Mrs. Malcolm. If ever there was a saint on
earth she was surely one. She bore adversity with an honest pride; she
toiled in the day of penury and affliction with thankfulness for her
little earnings.
The year 1803 saw tempestuous times. Bonaparte gathered his host fornent
the English coast, and the government at London were in terror of their
lives for an invasion. All in the country saw that there was danger, and
I was not backward in sounding the trumpet to battle. I delivered on
Lord's Day a religious and political exhortation on the present posture
of public affairs before a vast congregation of all ranks. The week
following there were meetings of weavers and others, and volunteers were
enrolled in defence of king and country.
In the course of the next four or five years many changes took place in
the parish. The weavers and cotton-mill folk and seceders from my own
kirk built a meeting-house in Cayenneville, where there had been for a
while great suffering on account of the failure of the cotton-mill
company. In the year 1809 the elders came in a body to the manse, and
said that, seeing that I was now growing old, they thought they could
not testify their respect for me in a better manner than by agreeing to
get me a helper; and the next year several young ministers spared me
from the necessity of preaching.
When it was known that I was to preach my last sermon on the last
sabbath of 1810, everyone, including the seceders to the meeting-house,
made it a point to be in the parish kirk, or to stand in the crowd that
made a lane of reverence for me to pass from the kirk door to the
back-yett of the manse. It was a moving discourse, and there were few
dry eyes in the kirk that day; for my bidding them farewell was as when
of old among the heathen an idol was taken away by the hand of the
enemy. Shortly after, a deputation of the seceders, with their minister
at their head, came to me and presented a server of silver in token of
their esteem of my blameless life, and the charity I had practised
towards the poor.
I am thankful that I have been spared with a sound mind to write this
book to the end, having really no more to say, saving only to wish a
blessing on all people from on high, where I soon hope to be, and to
meet there all the old and long-departed sheep of my flock, especially
the first and second Mrs. Balwhidders.
* * * * *