This was a sad blow to the poor hedgers and ditchers, and th

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WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS

AND OF SCOTLAND.

HISTORICAL, TRADITIONARY, & IMAGINATIVE.

WITH A GLOSSARY.

REVISED BY

ALEXANDER LEIGHTON

ONE OF THE ORIGINAL EDITORS AND CONTRIBUTORS.

VOL. XV.

LONDON:

WALTER SCOTT, 14 PATERNOSTER SQUARE

AND NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE.

1885.

CONTENTS

THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A VILLAGE PATRIARCH, _(JOHN MACKAY WILSON)_

THE OLD CHRONICLER'S TALES, _(ALEXANDER LEIGHTON)_

THE DEATH OF JAMES I

THE CURATE OF GOVAN, _(ALEXANDER CAMPBELL)_

GLEANINGS OF THE COVENANT, _(PROFESSOR THOMAS GILLESPIE)_

I.--THE GRANDMOTHER'S NARRATIVE

II.--THE COVENANTERS' MARCH

III.--PEDEN'S FAREWELL SERMON

IV.--THE PERSECUTION OF THE M'MICHAELS

THE STORY OF TOM BERTRAM, _(OLIVER RICHARDSON)_

THE COTTAR'S DAUGHTER, _(ANON.)_

THE SURGEON'S TALES, _(ALEXANDER LEIGHTON)_

THE CASE OF EVIDENCE

THE WARNING, _(ALEXANDER BETHUNE)_

GRIZEL COCHRANE. A TALE OF TWEEDMOUTH MUIR, _(JOHN MACKAY WILSON)_

SQUIRE BEN, _(JOHN MACKAY WILSON)_

THE BATTLE OF DRYFFE SANDS, _(ANON.)_

THE CLERICAL MURDERER, _(ALEXANDER LEIGHTON)_

WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS, AND OF SCOTLAND.

THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A VILLAGE PATRIARCH.

There is no feeling more strongly or more generally implanted in the

human breast, than man's love for the place of his nativity. The

shivering Icelander sees a beauty, that renders them pleasant, in his

mountains of perpetual snow; and the sunburned Moor discovers a

loveliness in his sultry and sandy desert. The scenes of our nativity

become implanted on our hearts like the memory of undying dreams; and

with them the word _home_ is for ever associated, and

"Through pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

We cannot forget the place where our eyes first looked upon the glorious

sun; where the moon was a thing of wonder, the evening companion of our

childish gambols, joining with us in the race, and flying through the

heavens as we ran! where we first listened to the song of the lark,

received the outpourings of a mother's love upon our neck, or saw a

father's eyes sparkle with joy as he beheld his happy children around

him; where we first breathed affection's tale or heard its vows, and

perchance were happy, wretched, blessed, or distracted, within a short

hour. There is a magic influence about nativity that the soul loves to

cherish. Its woods, its rivers, its hills, its old memories, fling their

shadows and associations after us, and over us, even to the ends of the

earth; and while these whisper of our early joys, or of what we fancied

to be care ere we knew what care was--its churchyard tells us we have a

portion there--that there our brethren and our kindred sleep. We may be

absent from it until our very name is forgotten; yet we love it not the

less. The man who loves it not hath his affections "dark as Erebus." It

is a common wish, and it hath patriotism in it, too, that where we drew

our first breath, there also we should breathe our last. Yet, in this

world of changes and vicissitudes, such is not the lot of many. While I

thus moralise, however, I detain the reader from the Recollections of

the Village Patriarch; and as some of the individuals mentioned in his

reminiscences may be yet living, I shall speak of the place in which he

dwelt as the village of A----.

The name of the patriarch was Roger Rutherford. He was in many respects

a singular old man. He was the proprietor of three or four cottages, and

of some thirty acres of arable land adjoining to them. He was a man of

considerable reading, of some education, and much shrewdness. His years,

at the period we speak of, were fourscore and four. By general consent,

he was a sort of home-made magistrate in the village, and the umpire in

all the disputes which arose amongst his neighbours. It was common with

them to say, instead of going to law, "We will leave the matter to old

Roger;" and the patriarch so managed or balanced his opinions, that he

generally succeeded in pleasing both parties. He was also the living or

walking history or chronicle of the village. He could record all the

changes that had taken place in it for more than seventy years; and he

could speak of all the ups and downs of its inhabitants. What Byron

beautifully says of the ocean--

"Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow"--

might have been said of the memory and intellect of the patriarch. He

had also a happy art in telling his village tales, which rendered it

pleasant to listen to the old man.

It was in the month of August, 1830, and just before the crops were

ready for the sickle, old Roger was sitting, as his custom was (when the

weather permitted), enjoying his afternoon pipe on a stone seat at the

door, when a genteel-looking stranger, who might be about fifty years of

age, approached him, and entered into conversation with him. The

stranger asked many questions concerning the village and its old

inhabitants, and Roger, eyeing him attentively for the space of a

minute, said, "Weel, ye seem to ken something about the town, but I

cannot charge my memory with having the smallest recollection o' ye;

however, sit down, and I shall inform ye concerning whatever ye wish to

hear."

So the stranger sat down beside the patriarch on the stone seat by the

door, and he mentioned to him the circumstances respecting which he

wished to be informed, and the individuals concerning whom he wished to

learn tidings. And thus did the old man narrate his recollections, and

the tales of

THE VILLAGE.

I have often thought, sir (he began), that A---- is one of the bonniest

towns on all the Borders--indeed I may say in all broad Scotland. I

dinna suppose ye will find its marrow in England; and I dinna say this

through any prejudice in its favour, or partiality towards it, because I

was born in it, and have lived in it now for the better part o'

fourscore and four years; but I will leave your own eyes to be the

judge. It is as clean as the hearth-stane of a tidy wife--and there

certainly is a great improvement in it, in this respect, since I first

knew it. There is the bit garden before almost every door, wi'

vegetables in the middle, flowers alang the edges, a pear or cherry tree

running up the side o' the house, and the sweet, bonny brier mixing wi'

the hedges round about. It lies just in the bosom of woods, too, in the

centre of a lovely haugh, where the river soughs along, like the echo of

the cooing of the cushats in the plantations. The population is four

times what it was when I remember it first, and there are but few of the

old original residenters left. There have been a great many alterations,

changes, and improvements in it, since I first kenned it; but young folk

will have young fashions, and it is of no use talking to them. The first

inroad upon our ancient and primitive habits was made by one Lucky

Riddle taking out a license to sell whisky, and tippenny, and other

liquors. She hadna carried on the trade for six months, until a great

alteration was observable in the morals o' several in the parish. It was

a sad heart-sore to our worthy minister. He once spoke to me o' having

Lucky Riddle summoned before the session. But says I to him--"Sir, I am

afraid it is a case in which the session canna interfere. Ye see she has

out a king's license, and she is contributing to what they call the

revenue o' the country; therefore, if she be only acting up to her

regulations, I doubt we canna interfere, and that we would only bring

ourselves into trouble if we did."

"But, Roger," quoth he, "her strong drink is making weak vessels of some

of my parishioners. There is Thomas Elliot, and William Archbold, or

Blithe Willie, as some call him for a by-word; those lads, and a dozen

o' others, I am creditably informed, are there, drinking, singing,

swearing, fighting, or dancing, night after night; and even Johnny

Grippy, the miser, that I would have made an elder last year, but on

account o' his penuriousness, is said to slip in on the edge o' his foot

every morning, to swallow his dram before breakfast! I tell ye, Roger,

she is bringing them to ruin faster than I can bring them to a sense o'

sin--or whatever impression I may make, her liquor is washing away. She

has brought a plague amongst us, and it is entering our habitations--it

is thinning the sanctuary, striking down our strong men, and making

mothers miserable. Therefore, unless Lucky Riddle will, in the meantime,

relinquish her traffic, I think we ought, in duty, to prohibit her from

coming forward on the next half-yearly occasion."

I was perfectly aware that there was a vast deal o' truth in what the

minister said, but I thought he was carrying the case to a length that

couldna be justified; and I advised him to remember that he was a

minister o' the gospel, but not o' the law. So all proceedings against

Mrs Riddle were stopped, and her business went on, doing much injury to

the minds, bodies, purses, and families, of many in the village.

It was nae great secret that there were folk, both in and about the

town, that had small stills concealed and working about their premises,

and that there wasna a night but they sent gallons o' spirits owre the

hills into England; but, by some means or other, government got wit of

these clandestine transactions, and the consequence was, that a gauger

was sent to live in the village, and three armed soldiers were billeted

on the inhabitants, who had to provide beds for them week about. Naebody

cared for having men wi' swords and firearms in their house, and they

preferred paying for their bed at Lucky Riddle's. They were regarded as

spies, and their appearance caused a great commotion amongst young and

old. I often feared that the spirit of murmuring would break out into

open rebellion; and one morning the soldiers came down from the hills,

carrying the gauger, covered wi' blood, and in a state that ye could

hardly ken life in him. One o' the soldiers also was dreadfully bruised

about the head, and his sword was broken through the middle. They

acknowledged that they had had a terrible battle wi' a party o'

smugglers, and rewards were offered for their apprehension. But, though

many of our people were then making rapid strides towards depravity,

there was none of them so depraved as to sell his neighbour, as Judas

did his Master, for a sum of money. None o' us had any great doubts

about who had been in the ploy, and some o' our folk werena seen for

months after; and, when inquiries were made concerning them, their

friends said they were in England, or the dear kens where--places where

they could have no more business than wi' the man o' the moon--but when

they came back, some o' them were lamiters for life.

The next improvement, as they called it, was the building of a strong,

square, flat-roofed house, like a castle in miniature, wi' an

iron-stancheled window, and an oak door that might have resisted the

attack of a battering-ram. This was intended to be a place of

confinement for disorderly persons. A constable was appointed to take

care of it, and it often furnished some o' Lucky Riddle's customers with

a night's lodgings. Persons guilty of offences were also confined there,

until they could be removed to the county jail.

The next thing that followed certainly was an improvement, but it had

its drawbacks. It was the erection of a woollen manufactory, in which a

great number o' men, women, and bairns, were employed. But they were

mostly strangers; for our folk were ignorant of the work, and the

proprietor of the factory brought them someway from the west of England.

The auld residenters were swallowed up in the influx of new comers. But

it caused a great stir about the town, and gave the street quite a new

appearance. The factory hadna commenced three months, when a rival

establishment was set up in opposition to Lucky Riddle, and one

public-house followed upon the back of another, until now we have ten of

them. As a matter of course, there was a great deal of more money spent

in the village; and several young lads belonging to it, that had served

their time as shopkeepers in the county town, came and commenced

business in it, some of them beneath their father's roof, and enlarging

the bit window o' six panes--where their mother had exposed thread,

biscuits, and gingerbread for sale--into a great bow-window that

projected into the street, they there exhibited for sale all that the

eye could desire for dress, or the palate to pet it. Yet, with an

increase of trade and money, there also came an increase of crime and a

laxity of morals, and vices became common among both sexes that were

unheard of in my young days. Nevertheless, the evil did not come without

a degree of good to counterbalance it; and, in course of time, besides

the kirk, the handsome dissenting meeting-house, that ye would observe

at the foot of the town, was built. Four schools, besides the

parish-school, also sprang up, so that every one had education actually

brought to their door; but opposition at that time (which was very

singular), instead o' lowering, raised the price o' schooling, and he

that charged highest got the genteelest school. Then both the kirk and

the meeting-house got libraries attached to them, and Luckie Riddle

found the libraries by far the most powerful opposition she had had to

contend wi'. Some of the youngsters, also, formed what they called a

Mechanics' Institution, and they also got a library, and met for

instruction after work hours; and, I declare to ye, that even callants,

in a manner, became so learned, that I often had great difficulty to

keep my ground wi' them; and I have actually heard some of them have the

impudence to tell the dominie that taught them their letters, that he

was utterly ignorant of all useful learning, and that he knew nothing of

the properties of either chemistry or mechanics. When I was a youth,

also, I dinna ken if there was a person in the village, save the

minister, kenned what a newspaper was. Politics never were heard tell of

until about the year seventy-five or eighty, but ever since then, they

have been more and more discussed, until now they have divided the whole

town into parties, and keep it in a state of perpetual ferment; and now

there are not less than five newspapers come from London by the post

every day, besides a score of weekly ones on the Saturday. Ye see, sir,

that even in my time very great changes and improvements have taken

place; and I am free to give it as my opinion, that society is more

intellectual now than it was when I first kenned it; and, upon the

whole, I would say, that mankind, instead of degenerating, are

improving. I recollect, that even the street there, ye couldna get

across it in the winter season, without lairing knee-deep in a dub; and

now ye see, it is all what they call macadamised, and as firm, dry, and

durable, as a sheet of iron. In fact, sir, within the last forty years,

the improvements and changes in this village alone are past all

belief--and the alterations in the place are nothing to what I have seen

and heard of the ups, and downs, and vicissitudes of its inhabitants.

The patriarch having finished his account of the village, thus proceeded

with the history of the individuals after whom the stranger had

inquired.

THE LAIRD.

Ye have asked me if auld Laird Cochrane be still living at the Ha',

which, for three centuries, was the glory and pride of his ancestors.

Listen, sir, and ye shall hear concerning him. He was born and brought

up amongst us, and for many years he was a blessing to this part of the

country. The good he did was incalculable. He was owner of two thousand

acres of as excellent land as ye would have found on all the Borders;

and I could have defied ony man to hear a poor mouth made throughout the

whole length and breadth of his estate. His tenants were all happy,

weel-to-do, and content. There wasna a murmur amongst them, nor amongst

all his servants. He was a landlord amongst ten thousand. He was always

devising some new scheme or improvement to give employment to the poor;

and he would as soon have thought of taking away his own life as

distressing a tenant. But the longest day has an end, and so had the

goodness and benevolence of Laird Cochrane.

It will be eight-and-twenty years ago, just about this present time,

that he took a sort of back-going in his health, and somebody got him

advised to go to a place in the south that they call Tunbridge

Wells--one of the places where people that can afford annually to have

fashionable complaints go to drink mineral waters. He would then be

about fifty-two years of age; and the distress of both auld and young in

the village was very great at his departure. Men, women, and children

accompanied him a full mile from the porter's lodge; and when his

carriage drove away, there was not one that didna say, "Heaven bless

you!" On the Sabbath, also, our minister, Mr Anderson, prayed for him

very fervidly.

Weel, we heard no more about the laird, nor how the waters agreed wi'

his stomach, for the space of about two months, when, to our surprise, a

rumour got abroad that he was on the eve of being married. Some folk

laughed at the report, and made light of it; but I did no such thing;

for I remembered the proverb, that "An auld fool is the worst of all

fools." But, to increase our astonishment, cartloads of furniture, and

numbers of upholsterers, arrived from Edinburgh; and the housekeeper and

butler received orders to have everything in readiness, in the best

manner, for the reception of their new leddy. There was nothing else

talked about in the village for a fortnight, and, I believe, nothing

else dreamed about. A clap of thunder bursting out on a New-year's

morning, ushering in the year, and continuing for a day without

intermission, could not have surprised us more. There were several

widows and auld maids in the parish, that the laird allowed so much

a-year to, and their dinner every Sunday and Wednesday from the Ha'

kitchen; and they, poor creatures, were in very great distress about the

matter. They were principally auld or feckless people; and they were

afraid, if their benefactor should stop his bounty, that they would be

left to perish. Whether they judged by their own dispositions or not, it

is not for me to say; but certain it is, that one and all of them were

afraid that his marrying a wife would put an end both to their annuities

and the dinners which they received twice a-week from his kitchen.

I dinna suppose that there was a great deal the matter wi' the laird

when he went to Tunbridge Wells. Like many others, he wasna weel from

having owre little to do. But he had not been there many days, when his

fancy was attracted by a dashing young leddy of four or five-and-twenty,

the daughter of a gentleman who was a dignitary in the church, but who

lived up to, and rather beyond, his income, so that, when he should die,

his gay family, of whom he had four daughters, would be left penniless.

The name of the laird's intended was Jemima, and she certainly was a

pretty woman, and what ye would call a handsome one; but there was a

haughtiness about her looks, and a boldness in her carriage, which were

far from being becoming in a woman. Her looks and carriage, however,

were not her worst fault. She had been taken to the Wells by her mamma,

as she termed her mother, for the express purpose of being

exhibited--much after the same manner as cattle are exhibited at a

fair--to see whether any bachelor or widower would make proposals. Our

good laird was smitten, sighed, was accepted, and sealed the marriage

contract.

The marriage took place immediately, but he didna arrive at the Ha' wi'

his young wife till the following June. When they did arrive, her

father, the divine, was wi' them; and, within a week, there was a

complete overturning of the whole establishment, from head to foot. They

came in two speck-and-span-new carriages, shining like the sun wi'

silver ornaments. They brought also a leddy's-maid wi' them, that wore

her veils, and her frills, and her fal-de-rals; and the housekeeper

declared that, for the first eight days, she didna ken her mistress from

the maid; for miss imitated madam, and both took such airs upon

themselves, that the auld body was confounded, and curtsied to both

without distinction, for fear of making a mistake. They also brought a

man-servant wi' them, that couldna speak a word like a Christian, nor

utter a word but in some heathenish foreign tongue. Within a week the

auld servants were driven about from the right hand to the left, and

from the left to the right. The incomers ordered them to do this and to

do that, wi' as much insolence and authority as if he had been a lord

and she a leddy.

But, in a short time, the leddy discovered that all the auld domestics,

from the housekeeper and butler down to the scullion wench, some of whom

had been in the house for twenty years, were little better than a den of

thieves; and, at the Martinmas term, a new race of servants took

possession of the Ha'. But this was not the only change which her young

leddyship and her father brought about within a few weeks. Her nerves

could not stand the smell of vegetables, which arose from the kitchen

when the broth was cooking for the widows and their families, the auld

maidens, and other helpless persons in the village and neighbourhood, on

the Sundays and Wednesdays, and she gave orders that the _nuisance_

should be discontinued. Thus, sir, for the sake of the gentility and

delicacy of her leddyship's organ of smelling, forty stomachs were left

twice a-week to yearn with hunger. At that time the labouring men on the

estate had seven shillings a-week, with liberty to keep a cow to graze

in the plantations; and those that dwelt by the river-side kept ducks

and geese, all of which were great helps to them. But her leddyship had

an aversion to horned cattle. She never saw them, she said, but she

dreamed of them, and to dream of them was to dream of an enemy! The

laird endeavoured to laugh her out of such silly notions, and appealed

to her father, the dignitary and divine, to prove that belief in dreams

was absurd. His reverence agreed that it was ridiculous to place faith

in dreams, but he hinted that there were occasions when the wishes of a

wife, though a little extravagant, and perhaps absurd, ought to be

complied with; and he also stated, that he himself had seen the cattle

in question rubbing against the young trees, and nibbling the tender

twigs; besides, there were walks through the plantations, and, as there

might be running cattle amongst them, he certainly thought, with his

daughter, that the grazing in the woods ought to be discontinued. His

authority was decisive. Next day, the steward was commanded to issue an

order, that every cottar upon the estate must either sell his cow, or

pay for its grass to a farmer.

This was a sad blow to the poor hedgers and ditchers, and those that

work with the spade. There was mourning that day in many a cottage--it

was equal to taking a meal a-day off every family. But the change that

was taking place in their condition did not end there. The divine, like

another great and immortal member of the sacred profession--the

illustrious Paley--was fond of angling; but there the resemblance

between them stopped. I have said that he was fond of angling--but he

was short-sighted, and one of the worst fishers that ever cracked off a

hook, or raised a splash in the water. Once, when he might have preached

upon the text, that he "had toiled all day, and caught nothing," he was

fishing on the river, about a mile above where we now are, when he

perceived the geese and ducks of a cottager swimming and diving their

heads in the stream. It immediately occurred to the wise man that his

want of success arose from the geese and ducks destroying all the

fish!--and he forthwith prevailed upon his son-in-law to order his

tenants to part with their poultry.[1] This was another sair blow to the

poor cottagers, and was the cause of their bairns gaun barelegged in

winter and hungry in summer. The gardens, the avenues, the lodge,

everything about the place, was altered. But, to crown all, the lease of

three or four of the laird's tenants was out at the following Martinmas,

and their rents were doubled. Every person marvelled at the change in

the conduct and character of the laird. Some thought he had gone out of

his wits, and others that he was possessed by the evil one; but the

greater part thought, like me, that he was a silly, hen-pecked man.

[Footnote 1: Absurd as this may seem, it is a FACT.]

A few months after her leddyship arrived, she gave birth to a son and

heir, and there were great rejoicings about the Ha' on the occasion, but

very little upon the estate; for already it had become a place that

every one saw it would be desirable to leave as soon as possible. As the

young birkie grew up, he soon gave evidence of being a sad scapegrace.

Never a day passed but we heard of his being in some ploy or other; and

his worthy mother said, that it showed a spirit becoming his station in

life. Before he had reached man's estate, he was considered to be a

great proficient in horse-racing, cock-fighting, fox-hunting, gambling,

and other gentlemanly amusements; but as to learning, though he had been

at both school and college, I dinna suppose that there is a trades lad

connected wi' the Mechanics' Institution here that he was fit to hand

the candle to. His grandfather, the divine, sometimes lectured him about

the little attention which he paid to his learning, but the young

hopeful answered, that "There was no necessity for a gentleman who was

heir to five or six thousand a-year, and whose father was seventy years

of age, boring over books."

They generally resided in London, and were never about the Ha', save

during a month or two in the shooting season. We heard, however, that

they had fine carryings on in the great city; that they kept up a

perpetual course of routes parties, and assemblies--that the estate was

deeply mortgaged; and the laird, from the course of dissipation into

which he had been dragged, had sunk into premature dotage. It was even

reported that Johnny Grippy, the miser, had advanced several thousand

pounds upon the estate, at a very exorbitant interest.

At length their course of extravagance, like a lang tether, came to an

end. Creditors grew numerous and clamorous; they would have their money,

and nothing but their money would satisfy them. The infatuated auld

laird sought refuge in the Abbey at Holyrood; and his son went on racing

about and gambling as formerly, borrowing money from John Grippy when

down here, and from Jews when in London, and giving them promises and

securities that would make the estate disappear, when it came into his

possession, like snow in summer. Her leddyship came down to the Ha',

and, to my certain knowledge, was refused credit for twenty shillings in

a shop in the village here, which was then kept by a son of one of the

cottars that she and her father had caused to part wi' their kye and

their poultry. This was what the young man called "seeing day about wi'

her leddyship."

The auld laird hadna been twelve months in the Abbey, when, finding

himself utterly deserted by his wife and son, he sank into despondency,

and died in misery; rueing, I will make free to say, that ever he had

set his foot in Tunbridge Wells. His young successor, in gratitude to

his mother for her over indulgence, and the example she had set him,

turned her from the Ha' on his taking possession of it, and left her to

seek refuge in the house of her father, the divine; and we never heard

of her in this part of the country again. The career and end of the

young laird I will state to ye, as I notice the histories of the

minister and Ne'er-do-weel Tam. And now for that of

THE MINISTER.

A more excellent, worthy, and sincere man than Mr Anderson never entered

a pulpit, or preached words of hope and consolation to sinners. He was

not a flowery orator or a fashionable preacher; but he was plain,

simple, nervous, earnest. His homeliness and anxious sincerity riveted

the attention of the most thoughtless; and, as a poet says,

"They who came to scoff remain'd to pray."

I remember when he was first placed amongst us as minister of the

parish: he was a mere youngster, but as primitive in his manners as if

he had just come from the plough instead of a college. His father was a

farm-steward upon the estate of the then member for the county; and the

patronage being in the crown--as it is called--it was through the

interest of the member that he got the kirk. About twelve months after

he was placed, he took a wife; and his marriage gave great satisfaction

to the whole congregation--at least to the poor and middle classes, who

of course were the great majority. And the reason why his marriage gave

such satisfaction was, that his wife was the daughter of a poor hind,

that he had taken a liking to when he was but a laddie and her a lassie;

and he had promised her, when they came from the harvest-field together

(for while he was at the college, he always wrought in the

harvest-time), that, if he lived, and was spared to be a minister, she

should be his wife. I am sorry to say that such promises are owre often

neglected by young people, when either the one or the other of them

happens to get their head up in the world. But our minister thereby

showed that his heart was actuated by right principles, and that he

preferred happiness to every mercenary consideration. It showed that he

was desirous of domestic comfort, and not ambitious of worldly

aggrandisement. She was a bonny, quiet, discreet creature; and, if she

hadna what ye may call the manners of a leddy, yet her modesty and

good-nature lent an air of politeness to everything she did. Her

constant desire to please far more than counterbalanced for her want of

being what is called weel-bred; and, if she had not gentility, she had

what is of more importance in a preacher's wife--a pious mind, a

cheerful and charitable disposition, and a meek spirit; and whatever she

was ignorant of, there was one thing she was acquainted with--she

"Knew her Bible true."

But after their marriage, he took great pains in instructing her in

various branches of learning; and in that she made great proficiency, I

am qualified to give evidence; for, when I have been present at the

dinners after the sacramental occasions, I have heard her dispute wi'

the ministers upon points of divinity, history, and other matters, and

maintain her ground very manfully, if I may say it.

I believe that a happier couple were not to be found in Great Britain.

She bore unto him fourteen children, but of these, all save two, a boy

and a girl, died in infancy; and in giving birth to the last, the mother

perished. It was on a Sunday that she died; and I remember that, on the

following Sabbath, her widowed husband entered the pulpit to preach her

funeral sermon. His text was, "Why should we mourn as those who have no

hope?" He proceeded with his discourse, but every few minutes he paused,

he sobbed; the big tears ran down his cheeks; and all the congregation

wept with him. At last he quoted the words, "In the morning I preached

to the people, and in the evening my wife died!" His heart filled--the

tears gushed from his eyes--he could say no more. He sank down on the

seat, and covered his face with his hands. Two of the elders went up to

the pulpit, and led him to the manse; and the precentor, of his own

accord, giving out a psalm, the congregation sang it and dispersed.

I have mentioned to ye his two surviving bairns--the name of the laddie

was Edward, and of the lassie, Esther. Edward was several years older

than his sister; and, from his youth upwards, he was a bold, sprightly,

fearless callant. Often have I observed him playing the part of a

captain, and drilling the laddies of the village into squares and lines,

like a little army; and as often have I heard him say, that he would be

nothing but a sodger. His father (as every Christian ought to do)

regarded war as a great wickedness, and as an abomination that disgraced

the earth; he therefore was grieved to see the military bent of his

son's inclination, and did everything in his power to break him from it.

He believed, and correctly too, that Edward had too much pride to enter

the army as a common soldier, where he would be little better than a

slave, and have to lift his hat to every puppy that wore an epaulette on

his shoulder or a sash round his waist. The minister, therefore, was

resolved that he would not advance the money to buy his son a

commission.

Here I must notice Johnny Grippy, who had never been kenned to perform a

generous action in the whole course of his existence. He was a man that,

if he had parted wi' a bawbee, to save a fellow-creature from

starvation, wadna, through vexation, have slept again for a week. If ony

body had pleaded poverty to him, he would have asked them--"What right

they had to be poor?" It would have been more difficult for him to

answer--"What right he had to be rich?" Johnny never forgave Mr Anderson

for prohibiting him from being made an elder; and, in his own quiet, but

cruel way, he said he would see that he got satisfaction, to the last

plack, for the insult. Now, what do ye think the miser did? He

absolutely offered young Maister Edward money to buy an ensign's

commission, at the moderate interest of ten per cent., and on the

understanding that he would gie him four years' credit for the interest,

and that he wadna request the principal until he was made a captain.

This proposal was made for the sole and individual purpose of grieving

and afflicting Mr Anderson, and of being revenged on him. The silly

laddie, dazzled wi' the bright sword and the gold-laced coat of an

officer, and thinking it a grand thing to be a soldier--fancying himself

a general, a hero, a conqueror in a hundred fights--swallowed the

temptation, took the offered money on the conditions agreed to; and

through the assistance of a college acquaintance, the son of a member of

parliament, purchased a commission in a foot regiment. All this was done

without his father's knowledge; and when Johnny Grippy witnessed the

good man's tears as he parted with his son, his cold heart rejoiced that

his revenge had been so far successful, and for once he regretted not

having parted with his money without a sure bond being made doubly sure.

In a very few weeks after Edward Anderson joined his regiment, he

accompanied it abroad; and twelve months had not passed when the public

papers contained an account of his having been promoted to the rank of

lieutenant on the field, on account of his bravery.

But listen, sir, to what follows.--It was on our fast-day, that the news

arrived concerning a great victory in the Indies. We were all interested

in the tidings, and the more particularly, as we knew that our

minister's son was at the battle. His father and his sister were in a

state of great anxiety concerning him, for whether he was dead or

living, they could not tell. The weather was remarkably fine, and as a

great preacher was to serve some of the tables, and preach during the

afternoon's service, the kirk was crowded almost to suffocation, and it

was found necessary to perform the ordinances in the open air. A green

plot in front of the manse was chosen for the occasion, and which was

capable of accommodating two or three thousand people. It was a grand

sight to see such a multitude sitting on the green sward, singing the

praises of their Maker, wi' the great heavens aboon them for a canopy!

its very glory and immensity rendering them incapable of appreciating

its unspeakable magnificence, and rendering as less than the dust in the

balance the temples of men's hands. It reminded me of the days of the

Covenant, when the pulpit was a mountain side, and its covering a cloud.

Mr Anderson was a man whose very existence seemed linked wi' affection

for his family. He had had great affection in it, and every death seemed

to transfer the love that he had borne for the dead in a stronger degree

towards those that were left. His soul was built up in them. All the

congregation observed that he was greatly agitated various times during

his discourse. It was evident to all that apprehensions for the fate of

his son were forcing themselves upon his thoughts.

The postman at that time brought the letters from the next town every

day about one o'clock. Mr Anderson was serving the first table, and his

face was towards the manse, when the postman, approaching the door,

waved his hand towards Miss Esther, who sat near it, as much as to say

that he had a letter from her brother. The father's voice failed,

through agitation and anxiety, as he saw the letter in the postman's

hand, and abruptly concluding his exhortation, he sat down trembling,

while his eyes remained as if fixed upon the letter. I myself observed,

as the postman passed me wi' it in his hand, that it was sealed wi'

black. I regarded it as a fatal omen, and I at first looked towards the

minister, to see whether he had observed it; but I believe that his eyes

were so blinded wi' tears that he could not perceive it; and I then

turned round towards Miss Esther; who I observed hastening to take the

letter in her hand. At the sight of the black seal, she almost fainted

upon the ground; and I saw the poor thing shaking as a leaf that quivers

in the wind. But when, wi' a hurried and trembling hand, she had broken

the seal, she hadna read three lines until the letter dropped upon the

ground, and, clasping her hands together, wi' a wild heart-piercing

scream, that sounded wildly through the worship of the people, she

exclaimed, "My brother!--my brother!" and fell wi' her face upon the

ground. The spectators raised her in their arms. Her father's heart

could hold no longer. He rushed through the multitude--he snatched up

the fatal letter. It bore the post-mark of Bengal, but it was not the

handwriting of his son. He, too, seemed to read but a line, when he

smote his hand upon his forehead, and exclaimed, in agony, "My son! my

son!--my poor Edward!"

His gallant boy was one of those who were slain and buried upon the

field; and the letter, which was from his colonel, recorded his courage,

his virtues, and his death! All the people rose, and sorrow and sympathy

seemed on every countenance save one--and that was the face of the auld

miser and hypocrite, Johnny Grippy. The body seemed actually to glut,

wi' a malicious delight, over the misery and affliction of which he, in

a measure, had been the cause; and, though he did try to screw his mouth

into a form of pity or compassion, and squeezed his een together to make

them water, I more than once observed the twittering streak of

satisfaction and delight pass owre his cheeks, just as ye have seen the

shadow of a swift cloud pass owre a field of waving grain. I hated the

auld miser for his very looks and his attempted hypocrisy; and, forgive

me for saying so, but I believe, if at that moment it had been in my

power to have annihilated him, I would have done it. The man who does

the work of iniquity openly or through error, I would pray for; but he

that does it beneath the mask of virtue or religion, I would

exterminate.

It was many weeks before Mr Anderson was able to resume his place in the

pulpit again; and his daughter, also, took the death of her brother

greatly to heart. The whole parish sought to condole wi' them, not even

excepting young Laird Cochrane of the Ha', who had not then come to the

estate. I firmly believe, sir, that he was a predestinated villain from

his cradle, for he showed symptoms of the most disgusting depravity more

early than ever laddie did. The aulder he grew, when he was in the

country, he went the more about the manse, and Esther was nearly about

his own age. She was a lassie that I would call the very perfection of

loveliness--simple, artless, confiding, but not without a sprinkling o'

woman's vanity. There was a laddie, the son of Thomas Elliot, or

Ne'er-do-weel Tam, as he was commonly called, that was very fond of her;

he was a fine, deserving callant, and all the town thought she was fond

of him. But the young laird put himself forward as his rival, and the

one was rich and the other poor. The laird of the Ha' sent daily

presents of geese, turkeys, and all sorts of game in their season, to

the manse; and he also presented rings, trinkets, and other fine things

to Esther; while the other, who was considered a sort of poet in the

neighbourhood, could only say, as a sang that I hear them singing

now-a-days says--

"My heart and lute are all my store

And these I bring to thee."

The laird was also an adept in flattery, in its most cunningly-devised

forms. Now, sir, it is amazing what an effect the use of such means will

ultimately produce upon the best-regulated minds. They are like the

constant dropping that weareth away a stone. Though unconscious of it

herself, Esther, who was but a young thing, began to listen with more

patience to the addresses of the heir of the Ha'; and she occasionally

exhibited something like dryness and petulance in the presence of poor

Alexander Elliot--for such was his name. At the very first shadow of

change upon her countenance, his spirit became bitter wi' jealousy, and

he rashly charged her wi' deserting him for the sake of the young laird

and the estate to which he was heir. This was a tearing asunder of the

silken cords that for years had held their hearts together. He was

proud, and so was she--they became distrustful of each other, and at

length they quarrelled, and parted never to meet again. I have heard it

said, that it was partly to be revenged on Alexander that Esther gave an

ear to the addresses of the laird; but that is a subject on which I

offer no opinion. All that I know is, that Alexander enlisted, and went

out to join his regiment in the West Indies. The laird followed Esther

like her shadow; and every one, save myself, said that there would be a

marriage between them. Even her worthy father seemed to dream in the

golden delusion; and, I am sorry to say, that I believe he was in no

small degree the cause of finally breaking off the intimacy between her

and Alexander Elliot. She was, as I have informed ye, a sensitive,

confiding lassie; and the laird, who had a honeyed tongue, succeeded not

only, in the long run, in gaining her affections, but in making her to

believe in his very looks; for, being incapable of falsehood herself,

she did not suspect it in others, and least of all in those who had

obtained a place in her heart.

The young villain went so far as, in her presence, to ask her father's

consent to their marriage; and the auld laird being then dead, the

minister agreed. It was not long after this, that the scapegrace went to

London, and Esther began to droop like a flower nipped wi' a frost.

Half-a-dozen times in the day her father found her in tears, and he

endeavoured to comfort and to cheer her; but his efforts were

unavailing. It pained his heart, which had already been sorely chastened

by affliction, to behold the youngling, and last of his flock, pining

away before him. The young laird neither returned nor wrote, and he

suspected not the cause of his daughter's grief. The first hint he got

of it was from his elders assembled in session. The old man in agony

fell back--he gasped, he smote his breast, and tore his grey hairs. In

his agony he cried that his Maker had forsaken him! The elders sought to

condole wi' him, but it was in vain; he was carried to the manse, and he

never preached more. His heart was broken, and, before a month passed,

the thread of life snapped also.

Wi' the weight of her own shame and sorrow, and her father's death, poor

Esther became demented. About nine weeks after her father's funeral, she

gave birth to a still-born child; and it was a happy thing that the

infant and its mother were buried at the same time, in the same grave.

Such, sir, is all that it is necessary for me to inform ye concerning

our late worthy minister; and of the young laird ye shall hear more

presently, in the history of

NE'ER-DO-WEEL TAM.

I never kenned a lad that I entertained a higher regard for than Thomas

Elliot. His father left him fifteen hundred pounds, laid out upon a

mortgage at five per cent. interest, and bequeathed in such a way that

he couldna lift the principal. There was a vast deal of real goodness

about his heart--he was frank, liberal, sincere. Every person that

kenned him liked him. His first and greatest fault was that he was owre

open; he laid bare his breast, as it were, to the attack of every enemy

that chose to hurl a shaft at it. He was a fool for his pains; and, I

daresay, he saw it in the end. There was always some person taking the

advantage of the frankness of his disposition. But the thing that ruined

him, and fixed the by-name on him, was, that he became a sort of fixture

in Luckie Riddle's parlour. His chief companion was a lad of the name of

William Archbold--a blithe, singing chield, that was always happy, and

ready at onything. Thomas and he were courting two sisters--Jenny and

Peggy Lilly--the daughters of a small farmer in the neighbourhood, and

both of them were bonny, weel-respected lasses. The folk in this quarter

used to call William Archbold _Blithe Willie_. He was a blacksmith to

his trade, but quite a youth; and come upon him by night or by day,

Willie was sure to be found laughing, whistling, or singing. He hadna a

yearly income like Thomas Elliot; and, strange to say, he got the blame

of gieing him a howff at Luckie Riddle's. But that was a doctrine which

I always protested against; and I said it was much more likely that, as

Thomas was fu'-handed, while his neighbour had to work for his bread,

the man of money led the blacksmith to their howff, and not the

blacksmith the man of money. One thing is certain, that both of them

were far oftener at Luckie's than was either good for their health,

wealth, or reputation. One night, it seems, after having drunk until, if

"they werena fu', they just had plenty," they reeled away to see the two

sisters, their sweethearts. Jenny didna wish to quarrel wi' Thomas,

because he had the siller; but Peggy turned away wi' scorn from Blithe

Willie, and said, that she "never again would speak to one who was no

better than a common blackguard, and who neither had regard for himself,

nor for any one connected wi' him." What more passed between them I

canna tell, but it is said he turned sober in an instant; and, certain

it is, that night he left the town, and has never been more heard tell

off.

Thomas Elliot and Jenny were married, but she died the second year after

their marriage, leaving to his charge an infant son, who was kirsened by

the name of Alexander. Thomas, after his wife's death, tried many things

(for while she lived she keepit him to rights), but he neglected them

all. He began twenty things, and ended nothing. He was to be found in

Luckie Riddle's in the morning, and he was to be seen sitting there at

night. Before he was forty, he became a perfect sot; and I used to ask,

"Wha leads him away now." The fact was, he was miserable save when he

was in company; and, for the sake of company, he would have sat sipping

and drinking from sunrise to sunset, without ever perceiving that in

that time he had been sitting wi' twenty different companies, each of

whom had remained maybe half-an-hour, and left him bibbing there to make

a crony of the customer that last came in. But this course of life could

not last long. He had mortgaged the mortgage that his father left him,

until, although he could not lift it, he had almost swallowed it up; and

at the age of forty-four he fell into the grave like a lump of diseased

flesh--a thing without a soul!

I have informed ye that he left a son, named Alexander, behind him. He

was a laddie that was beloved by the whole town; and it was him that

frae bairnhood was set down as the future husband of Esther Anderson,

our minister's daughter. I have already told ye how he enlisted, when he

fancied that she was drawing up wi' the young laird, and slighting him.

Now, mark ye, sir--for this is one of the most singular things in the

history of our village--about three years after the melancholy deaths of

Esther and her father, the laird, wi' a pack o' young men as thoughtless

and wicked as himself, came down to the Ha'. It was plain as noonday

that the murder of a young lassie, her bairn, and her honoured father,

had never cost the young libertine a thought. He returned to all his

former profligacy, as a sow returns to its wallowing in the mire.