CHAPTER XXXVI

YEAR 1795

THE present Ann. Dom. was ushered in with an event that I had never

dreaded to see in my day, in our once sober and religious country parish.

The number of lads that had gone over to Ayr to be soldiers from among

the spinners and weavers of Cayenneville had been so great, that the

government got note of it, and sent a recruiting party to be quartered in

the town; for the term clachan was beginning by this time to wear out of

fashion: indeed, the place itself was outgrowing the fitness of that

title. Never shall I forget the dunt that the first tap of the drum gied

to my heart, as I was sitting on Hansel Monday by myself at the parlour

fireside, Mrs. Balwhidder being throng with the lassies looking out a

washing, and my daughter at Ayr, spending a few days with her old

comrades of the boarding school. I thought it was the enemy; and then

anon the sound of the fife came shrill to the ear, for the night was lown

and peaceful. My wife and all the lassies came flying in upon me, crying

all in the name of heaven, what could it be? by which I was obligated to

put on my big-coat, and, with my hat and staff, go out to enquire. The

whole town was aloof, the aged at the doors in clusters, and the bairns

following the tattoo, as it was called, and at every doubling beat of the

drum, shouting as if they had been in the face of their foemen.

Mr. Archibald Dozendale, one of my elders, was saying to several persons

around him, just as I came up, “Hech, sirs! but the battle draws near our

gates,” upon which there was a heavy sigh from all that heard him; and

then they told me of the sergeant’s business; and we had a serious

communing together anent the same. But while we were thus standing

discoursing on the causey, Mrs. Balwhidder and the servant lassies could

thole no longer, but in a troop came in quest of me, to hear what was

doing. In short, it was a night both of sorrow and anxiety. Mr.

Dozendale walked back to the manse with us, and we had a sober tumbler of

toddy together; marvelling exceedingly where these fearful portents and

changes would stop, both of us being of opinion that the end of the world

was drawing nearer and nearer.

Whether it was, however, that the lads belonging to the place did not

like to show themselves with the enlistment cockades among their

acquaintance, or that there was any other reason, I cannot take it upon

me to say; but certain it is, the recruiting party came no speed, and, in

consequence, were removed about the end of March.

Another thing happened in this year, too remarkable for me to neglect to

put on record, as it strangely and strikingly marked the rapid

revolutions that were going on. In the month of August at the time of

the fair, a gang of playactors came, and hired Thomas Thacklan’s barn for

their enactments. They were the first of that clanjamfrey who had ever

been in the parish; and there was a wonderful excitement caused by the

rumours concerning them. Their first performance was _Douglas Tragedy_

and the _Gentle Shepherd_: and the general opinion was, that the lad who

played Norval in the play, and Patie in the farce, was an English lord’s

son, who had run away from his parents rather than marry an old cracket

lady with a great portion. But, whatever truth there might be in this

notion, certain it is, the whole pack was in a state of perfect beggary;

and yet, for all that, they not only in their parts, as I was told,

laughed most heartily, but made others do the same; for I was constrained

to let my daughter go to see them, with some of her acquaintance; and she

gave me such an account of what they did, that I thought I would have

liked to have gotten a keek at them myself. At the same time, I must own

this was a sinful curiosity, and I stifled it to the best of my ability.

Among other plays that they did, was one called _Macbeth and the

Witches_, which the Miss Cayennes had seen performed in London, when they

were there in the winter time with their father, for three months, seeing

the world, after coming from the boarding-school. But it was no more

like the true play of Shakespeare the poet, according to their account,

than a duddy betheral, set up to fright the sparrows from the peas, is

like a living gentleman. The hungry players, instead of behaving like

guests at the royal banquet, were voracious on the needful feast of

bread, and the strong ale, that served for wine in decanters. But the

greatest sport of all was about a kail-pot, that acted the part of a

caldron, and which should have sunk with thunder and lightning into the

earth; however, it did quite as well, for it made its exit, as Miss

Virginia said, by walking quietly off, being pulled by a string fastened

to one of its feet. No scene of the play was so much applauded as this

one; and the actor who did the part of King Macbeth made a most polite

bow of thankfulness to the audience, for the approbation with which they

had received the performance of the pot.

We had likewise, shortly after the “Omnes exeunt” of the players, an

exhibition of a different sort in the same barn. This was by two English

quakers, and a quaker lady, tanners of Kendal, who had been at Ayr on

some leather business, where they preached, but made no proselytes. The

travellers were all three in a whisky, drawn by one of the best-ordered

horses, as the hostler at the Cross-Keys told me, ever seen. They came

to the Inn to their dinner, and meaning to stay all night, sent round, to

let it be known that they would hold a meeting in Friend Thacklan’s barn;

but Thomas denied they were either kith or kin to him: this, however, was

their way of speaking.

In the evening, owing to the notice, a great congregation was assembled

in the barn, and I myself, along with Mr. Archibald Dozendale, went there

likewise, to keep the people in awe; for we feared the strangers might be

jeered and insulted. The three were seated aloft on a high stage,

prepared on purpose, with two mares and scaffold-deals, borrowed from Mr.

Trowel the mason. They sat long, and silent; but at last the spirit

moved the woman, and she rose, and delivered a very sensible exposition

of Christianity. I was really surprised to hear such sound doctrine; and

Mr. Dozendale said, justly, that it was more to the purpose than some

that my younger brethren from Edinburgh endeavoured to teach. So, that

those who went to laugh at the sincere simplicity of the pious quakers,

were rebuked by a very edifying discourse on the moral duties of a

Christian’s life.

Upon the whole, however, this, to the best of my recollection, was

another unsatisfactory year. In this we were, doubtless, brought more

into the world; but we had a greater variety of temptation set before us,

and there was still jealousy and estrangement in the dispositions of the

gentry, and the lower orders, particularly the manufacturers. I cannot

say, indeed, that there was any increase of corruption among the rural

portion of my people; for their vocation calling them to work apart, in

the purity of the free air of heaven, they were kept uncontaminated by

that seditious infection which fevered the minds of the sedentary

weavers, and working like flatulence in the stomachs of the

cotton-spinners, sent up into their heads a vain and diseased fume of

infidel philosophy.

The Annals of the Parish Or, the Chronicle of Dalmailing During the Ministry of the Rev. Micah Balwhidder · 第 36 / 51 章