REIGN OF WILLIAM III.: 1695–1702.

During this period, the affairs of Scotland were in a marked degree

subordinate to those of England. The king, absorbed in continental wars

and continental politics, paid little attention to his northern kingdom;

he left it chiefly to the care of its state-officers, using as a medium

of his own influence, William Carstares, a Presbyterian minister of

extraordinary worth, sincerity, and prudence, who had gained his entire

esteem and confidence, and who usually attended him wherever he was. A

parliament which sat in May 1695, was chiefly occupied with the

investigation of the Glencoe massacre, and with measures connected with

the rising commercial enterprise of the country, including the formation

of a native bank, and that of a company for trading with Africa and the

Indies. The latter of these speculations was worked out in an expedition

to Darien, and an attempted settlement there, which, through English

mercantile jealousy, and the king’s indifference to Scottish interests,

ended so unfortunately as greatly to incense the Scottish nation, and

increase the party disaffected to the Revolution government. The misery

hence arising was increased by a dearth from a succession of bad

seasons. Nevertheless, this period will be found in our chronicle to

have been remarkable for the establishment of manufactories of various

kinds, and for various other industrial enterprises, shewing that the

national energies were beginning to take a decidedly new direction. At

the same time, instances of deplorable superstition, cruelty, and

intolerance were sufficiently numerous to attest that the days of

barbarism were not past.

Incessant efforts were made by the Jacobite party to procure the

restoration of King James, and the discontents excited by Darien were

greatly favourable to their views. Yet the heart of the middle class

throughout the more important provinces remained firm in

Presbyterianism, for which the Revolution government was the sole

guarantee; and in this lay an insuperable bar to all reactionary

projects. A war against France, which had begun immediately after the

Revolution (May 1689), was brought to a conclusion in September 1697, by

the treaty of Ryswick, which included an acknowledgment by Louis XIV. of

the title of King William to the English throne. The exiled king, old

and abandoned to ascetic devotion, indulged a hope that he would outlive

William, and be then quietly recalled. He died, however, in September

1701, with only the assurance of the French king in favour of the

restoration of his son. William survived him but a few months, dying of

a fever and ague on the 8th March 1702. His vigorous talents, his

courage, his essential mildness and tolerance, abated as they were by an

unpopular coldness of manners, are amply recognised in English history;

among the Scots, while Presbyterians thank him for the establishment of

their church, there is little feeling regarding the Dutch king, besides

a strong resentment of his concern in the affairs of Glencoe and Darien.

[Sidenote: 1695. FEB. 17.]

This day, being Sunday, the Catholics of Edinburgh were so bold as to

hold a meeting for worship in the Canongate. It was fallen upon and

‘dissipat’ by the authorities, and the priest, Mr David Fairfoul, with

James De Canton and James Morris, fencing-masters, and John Wilson of

Spango, were committed to prison, while the Lord Advocate obtained a

list of other persons present. The Privy Council ordered the four

prisoners to be carried from the Canongate to the Edinburgh Tolbooth,

and appointed a committee to take what steps it might think meet

regarding the list of worshippers.

On the 28th February, the Council permitted the liberation of the two

fencing-masters, on assurance of their doing nothing offensive to the

government in future, under a penalty of five hundred merks. At the same

time, they ordained ‘Harry Graham, and his landlord, James Blair,

periwig-maker in Niddry’s Wynd; James Brown, son to Hugh Brown,

chirurgeon, and the said Hugh his father; John Abercrombie, merchant in

Edinburgh, and John Lamb in the Water of Leith, to give bond in the same

terms and under the same penalty;’ else to be kept in prison. Orders

were given to search for John Laing, writer, John Gordon, writer, and

James Scott in the Canongate, ‘who, being also at the said meeting, have

absconded.’ The priest Fairfoul was treated with unexpected mercy, being

liberated on condition of banishment, not to return under a penalty of

three hundred pounds sterling.[135]

[Sidenote: FEB. 19.]

Robert Davidson, merchant in Ellon, Aberdeenshire, represented to the

Privy Council that he had been in a good way of merchandise, and

proprietor of a two-story house, when in the beginning of December last

some of Lord Carmichael’s dragoons were quartered upon him, and

deposited their powder in one of his low [Sidenote: 1695.] rooms. As

they were one morning dividing the powder, it caught fire, and

demolished the house, together with his whole merchandise and household

plenishing, carrying the bed whereon he and his family lay to the top of

the house, and seriously injuring a relative who was living with him at

the time, and for the cost of whose cure he was answerable. Robert

petitioned for some compensation, and the Council—following its rule of

a vicarious beneficence—allowed him to raise a voluntary collection at

the church-doors of Aberdeenshire and the two adjacent counties.[136]

[Sidenote: FEB.]

There never, perhaps, was any mystic history better attested than that

of ‘the Rerrick Spirit.’ The tenant of the house, many of his

neighbours, the minister of the parish, several other clergymen, the

proprietor of the ground living half a mile off, all give their

testimonies to the various things which they ‘saw, heard, and felt.’ The

air of actuality is helped even by the local situation and its

associations. It is in the same parish with Dundrennan Abbey, where

Queen Mary spent her last night in Scotland. It is upon the same

rock-bound coast which Scott has described so graphically in his tale of

_Guy Mannering_, which was indeed founded on facts that occurred in this

very parish. Collin, the house of the laird, still exists, though passed

into another family. Very probably, the house of Andrew Mackie himself

would also be found by any one who had the curiosity to inquire for it;

nor would he fail, at the same time, to learn that the whole particulars

of this narration continue to be fresh in popular recollection, though

four generations have passed away since the event. Few narrations of the

kind have included occurrences and appearances which it was more

difficult to reconcile with the theory of trick or imposture.

Andrew Mackie, a mason, occupied a small farm, called Ring-croft, on the

estate of Collin, in the parish of Rerrick, and stewartry of

Kirkcudbright. He is spoken of as a man ‘honest, civil, and harmless

beyond many of his neighbours,’ and we learn incidentally that he had a

wife and some children. In the course of the month of February 1695,

Andrew was surprised to find his young cattle frequently loose in the

byre, and their bindings broken. Attributing it to their unruliness, he

got stronger bindings; but still they were found loose in the morning.

Then he removed the beasts to another place; and [Sidenote: 1695.] when

he went to see them next morning, he found one bound up with a hair

_tether_ to the roof-beam, so strait, that its feet were lifted off the

ground. Just about this time, too, the family were awakened one night

with a smell of smoke; and when they got up, they found a quantity of

peats lying on the floor, and partially kindled. It seemed evident that

some mischievous agent was at work in Ring-croft; but as yet nothing

superhuman was in the surmises of the family.

On Wednesday, the 7th of March, a number of stones were thrown in the

house—‘in all places of it’—and no one could tell whence they came, or

who threw them. This continued during day and night, but mostly during

the night, for several days, the stones often hitting the members of the

family, but always softly, as if they had less than half their natural

weight. A kind of fear began to take possession of the little household,

and the father’s fireside devotions waxed in earnestness. Here, however,

a new fact was developed: the stone-throwing was worst when the family

was at prayers. On the Saturday evening, the family being for some time

without, one or two of the children, on entering, were startled to

observe what appeared a stranger sitting at the fireside, with a blanket

about him. They were afraid, and hesitated; but the youngest, who was

only nine or ten years of age, chid the rest for their timidity, saying:

‘Let us sain [bless] ourselves, and then there is no ground to fear it!’

He perceived that the blanket around the figure was his. Having blessed

himself, he ran forward, and pulled away the blanket, saying: ‘Be what

it will, it hath nothing to do with my blanket.’ It was found to be a

four-footed stool set on end, and the blanket cast over it.

Attending church on Sunday, Andrew Mackie took an opportunity, after

service, of informing the minister, Mr Telfair, how his house had been

disturbed for the last four days. The reverend gentleman consequently

visited Ring-croft on Tuesday. He prayed twice, without experiencing any

trouble; but soon after, as he stood conversing with some people at the

end of the barn, he saw two stones fall on the croft near by, and

presently one came from the house to tell that the pelting within doors

had become worse than ever. He went in, prayed again, and was hit

several times by the stones, but without being hurt. After this there

was quiet for several days. On Sunday it began again, and worse than

before, for now the stones were larger, and where they hit, they gave

pain. On the ensuing Wednesday, the minister [Sidenote: 1695.] revisited

the house, and stayed a great part of the night, during which he was

‘greatly troubled.’ ‘Stones and several other things,’ says he, ‘were

thrown at me; I was struck several times on the sides and shoulders very

sharply with a great staff, so that those who were present heard the

noise of the strokes. That night it threw off the bed-side, and rapped

upon the chests and boards as one calling for access. As I was at

prayer, leaning on a bed-side, I felt something pressing up my arm. I,

casting my eyes thither, perceived a little white hand and arm, from the

elbow down, but presently it evanished.’

The neighbours now began to come about the house, to gratify their

curiosity or express sympathy; and both when they were within doors, and

when they were approaching or departing, they were severely pelted.

Mackie himself got a blow from a stone, which wounded his forehead.

After several apparent efforts of a visionary being to seize him by the

shoulder, he was griped fast by the hair of the head, and ‘he thought

something like nails scratched his skin.’ This, however, was little in

comparison to what happened with some of the neighbours, for, as

attested by ‘Andrew Tait in Torr,’ they were seized and dragged up and

down the house by the clothes. ‘It griped one John Keig, miller in

Auchencairn, so by the side, that he entreated his neighbours to help:

it cried it would rive [tear] the side from him. That night it lifted

the clothes off the children, as they were sleeping in bed, and beat

them on the hips as if it had been with one’s hand, so that all who were

in the house heard it. The door-bar and other things would go thorough

the house, as if a person had been carrying them in his hand; yet

nothing seen doing it. It also rattled on chests and bed-sides with a

staff, and made a great noise.’ ‘At night it cried, “Whisht! whisht!” at

every sentence in the close of prayer; and it whistled so distinctly,

that the dog barked and ran to the door, as if one had been calling to

hound him.’

At the request of the laird, Charles M‘Lellan of Collin, a number of

ministers put up public prayers on account of these strange occurrences,

and on the 4th of April two came to the house to see what they could do

in behalf of the family. They spent the night in fasting and prayer, but

with no other apparent effect than that of rendering the supposed spirit

more ‘cruel.’ One of the reverend gentlemen got a wound in the head from

a stone, and the other had his wig pulled off, and received several sore

blows, which, however, were healed quickly. A fiery peat was [Sidenote:

1695.] thrown amongst the people, and in the morning when they arose

from prayer, ‘the stones poured down on all who were in the house to

their hurt.’

Two days after, the affair took a new turn, when Mackie’s wife was

induced to lift a stone which she found loose at the threshold of the

house, and perceived underneath ‘seven small bones, with blood, and some

flesh, all closed in a piece of old soiled paper;’ the blood being fresh

and bright. She presently ran to the laird’s house, about a quarter of a

mile distant, to fetch him; and while she was gone, the spirit became

worse than ever, ‘throwing stones and fire-balls in and about the house;

but the fire, as it lighted, did evanish. It thrust a staff through the

wall above the children in bed, shook it over them, and groaned.’ The

laird came and lifted the bones and flesh, after which the trouble

ceased for a little time. Next day, however, being Sunday, it

recommenced with throwing of stones and other heavy articles, and set

the house twice on fire. In the evening, when the eldest boy was coming

home, ‘an extraordinary light fell about him, and went before him to the

house, with a swift motion.’

On the ensuing morning, the 8th April, Mackie found in his close a

letter written and sealed with blood, superscribed thus: ‘_3 years tho

shall have to repent a net it well_.’ Within he read: ‘_Wo be to the

Cotlland Repent and tak warning for the door of haven ar all Redy bart

against the I am sent for a warning to the to fllee to god yet troublt

shallt this man be for twenty days a 3 rpent rpent Scotland or els tow

shall._’[137]

Following up the old notion regarding the touching of a murdered person

in order to discover the murderer, all the surviving persons who had

lived in the house during the twenty-eight years of its existence, were

convened by appointment of the civil magistrate before Charles M‘Lellan

of Collin, ‘and did all touch the bones,’ but without any result.

On a committee of five ministers coming two days after to the house, the

disturbing agency increased much in violence. According to the parish

minister, Telfair, who was present on this occasion, ‘It came often with

such force, that it made all the house shake; it brake a hole through

the timber and thatch of [Sidenote: 1695.] the roof, and poured in great

stones, one whereof, more than a quarter weight, fell upon Mr James

Monteath his back, yet he was not hurt.’ When a guard was set upon the

hole in the roof, outside, it broke another hole through the gable from

the barn, and threw stones in through that channel. ‘It griped and

handled the legs of some, as with a man’s hand; it hoised up the feet of

others, while standing on the ground; thus it did to William Lennox of

Millhouse, myself, and others.’

After this, the disturbances went on with little variation of effect for

a week or more. A pedler felt a hand thrust into his pocket. Furniture

was dragged about. Seeing a meal-sieve flying about the house, Mackie

took hold of it, when the skin was immediately torn out. Several people

were wounded with the stones. Groaning, whistling, and cries of

_Whisht_—_Bo, bo_—and _Kuck, kuck!_ were frequently heard. Men, while

praying, were over and over again lifted up from the ground. While

Mackie was thrashing in the barn, some straw was set fire to, and staves

were thrust at him through the wall. When any person was hit by a stone,

a voice was heard saying: ‘Take that till you get more;’ and another was

sure to come immediately.

On the 24th of April, there was a fast and humiliation in the parish on

account of the demonstrations at Ring-croft; and on that day the

violences were more than ever extreme, insomuch that the family feared

they should be killed by the stones. ‘On the 26th, it threw stones in

the evening, and knocked on a chest several times, as one to have

access, and began to speak, and call those who were sitting in the house

witches and rooks, and said it would take them to hell. The people then

in the house said among themselves: “If it had any to speak to it, now

it would speak.” In the meantime, Andrew Mackie was sleeping. They

wakened him, and then he, hearing it say: “Thou shalt be troubled till

Tuesday,” asked, “Who gave thee a commission?” It answered: “God gave me

a commission, and I am sent to warn the land to repent, for a judgment

is to come, if the land do not quickly repent;” and commanded him to

reveal it upon his peril. And if the land did not repent, it said it

would go to its father, and get a commission to return with a hundred

worse than itself, and it would trouble every particular family in the

land. Andrew Mackie said: “If I should tell this, I would not be

believed.” Then it said: “Fetch [your] betters; fetch the [Sidenote:

1695.] minister of the parish, and two honest men on Tuesday’s night,

and I shall declare before them what I have to say.” Then it said:

“Praise me, and I will whistle to you; worship me, and I will trouble

you no more.” Then Andrew Mackie said: “The Lord, who delivered the

three children out of the fiery furnace, deliver me and mine this night

from the temptations of Satan!” It replied: “You might as well have

said, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.”’ On a humble person present here

putting in a word, the voice told him he was ill-bred to interfere in

other people’s discourse. ‘It likewise said: “Remove your goods, for I

will burn the house.”’

The house was actually set on fire seven times next day, and the care of

the inmates preventing damage of this kind from extending, the end of

the house was pulled down in the evening, so that the family was forced

to spend the night in the barn. On the second next day, the house being

again set fire to several times, Mackie carefully extinguished all fires

about the place, and poured water upon his hearth; yet after this, when

there was no fire within a quarter of a mile, the conflagrations, as was

alleged, were renewed several times.

The period announced in the bloody letter of the 8th instant was now

approaching, and in a conversation with Mackie, the supposed spirit

good-naturedly informed him that, ‘except some casting of stones on

Tuesday to fulfil the promise,’ he should have no more trouble. Tuesday,

being the 30th of April, was the twenty-third day from the finding of

the letter. That night, Charles M‘Lellan of Collin and several

neighbours were in the barn. As he was at prayer, he ‘observed a black

thing in the corner of the barn, and it did increase, as if it would

fill the whole house. He could not discern it to have any form, but as

if it had been a black cloud; it was affrighting to them all. Then it

threw bear-chaff and mud in their faces, and afterwards did grip

severals who were in the house by the middle of the body, by the arms,

and other parts of their bodies, so strait, that some said for five days

thereafter they thought they felt those grips.’ Such, excepting the

firing of a sheep-cot next day, was the last that was seen, heard, or

felt of the Rerrick Spirit.

So great was the impression made by these incidents, that early in the

ensuing year Mr Telfair published an account of them in a small

pamphlet, which went through a second edition in Scotland, and was

reprinted, with alterations of language, [Sidenote: 1695.] in

London.[138] At the end appeared the attestations of those who ‘saw,

heard, and felt’ the various things stated—namely, ‘Mr Andrew Ewart,

minister at Kells; Mr James Monteath, minister at Borgue; Mr John Murdo,

minister at Crossmichael; Mr Samuel Stirling, minister at Parton; Mr

William Falconer, minister at Kelton; Charles M‘Lellan of Collin,

William Lennox of Millhouse, Andrew and John Tait in Torr, John Cairns

in Hardhills, William Macminn, John Corsby, Thomas Macminn, Andrew

Paline, &c.’ It may be remarked, that for each particular statement in

the Relation, the names of the special witnesses are given; and their

collected names are appended, as to a solemn document in which soul and

conscience were concerned.

[Sidenote: MAR. 19.]

The degree of respect felt by the authorities of this age for the rights

of the individual, is shewn very strikingly in a custom which was now

and for a considerable time after largely practised, of compromising

with degraded and imputedly criminal persons for banishment to the

American plantations. For example, at this date, thirty-two women of

evil fame, residing in Edinburgh, were brought before the magistrates as

a moral nuisance. We do not know what could have been done to them

beyond whipping and hard labour; yet they were fain to agree that,

instead of any other punishment, they should be banished to America, and

arrangements for that purpose were immediately made.

In the ensuing June, a poor woman of the same sort, named Janet Cook,

residing in Leith, was denounced for offences in which a father and son

were associated—a turpitude which excited a religious horror, and caused

her to be regarded as a criminal of the highest class. The Lord Advocate

reported of Janet to the Privy Council, that she had been put under the

consideration of the Lords of Justiciary, as a person against whom

‘probation could not be found,’ but that the Lords were nevertheless ‘of

opinion she might be banished the kingdom,’ and she herself had

‘consented to her banishment.’ The Lords of the Privy Council seem to

have had no more difficulty about the case than those of [Sidenote:

1695.] the Court of Justiciary had had; they ordered that Janet should

depart furth of the kingdom and not return, ‘under the highest pains and

penalties.’

In January 1696, a woman named Elizabeth Waterstone, imprisoned on a

charge identical in all respects with the above, was, in like manner,

without trial, banished, with her own consent, to the plantations.

On the 7th of February 1697, four boys who were notorious thieves, and

eight women who were that and worse, were called before the magistrates

of Edinburgh, and ‘interrogat whether or not they would consent freely

to their own banishment furth of this kingdom, and go to his majesty’s

plantations in America.’ ‘They one and all freely and unanimously

consented so to do,’ and arrangements were made by the Privy Council for

their deportation accordingly. It was only ordained regarding the boys

that Lord Teviot might engage them as recruits for Flanders, in which

case he was immediately to commence maintaining them.

On the 15th February 1698, Robert Alexander, ‘a notorious

horse-stealer,’ now in prison, was willing to appease justice by

consenting to banishment without trial. He likewise made discoveries

enabling several countrymen to recover their horses. The Privy Council

therefore ordained him to be transported by the first ship to the

plantations of America, not to return thence under pain of death.

William Baillie, ‘ane Egyptian,’ prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh,

but regarding whom we hear of no specific offence and no trial, was

summarily ordered (Sep. 12, 1699) to be transported in the first ship

going to the plantations, the skipper to be allowed a proper gratuity

from the treasury, and at the same time to give caution for five hundred

merks that he would produce a certificate of the man being landed in

America.[139]

It was long before justice in Scotland took any qualm about this

free-and-easy way of dealing with accused persons. So late as 1732, two

men of humble rank—Henderson, a sedan-carrier, and Hamilton, a

_street-cadie_—suspected of being accessory to the murder of an

exciseman, having _petitioned_ for banishment before trial, were sent

from the jail in Edinburgh to Glasgow, there to wait a vessel for the

plantations.[140]

[Sidenote: 1695. APR. 3.]

The Earl of Home, as a dangerous person, had for some time been confined

to his house of the Hirsel, near Coldstream; but now he was required to

enter himself prisoner in Edinburgh Castle. He represented himself as

under such indisposition of body as to make this unendurable, and the

Council therefore ordered Dr Sir Thomas Burnet, the king’s physician, to

take a chirurgeon with him to the Hirsel, and inquire into the state of

his lordship’s health. The doctor and surgeon reported in such terms

that the earl was allowed to remain at the Hirsel, but not without

caution to the extent of two thousand pounds sterling. For their pains

in travelling fifty miles and back, and giving this report, the Council

allowed Dr Burnet two hundred merks (£11, 2_s._ 2_d._), and Gideon

Elliot, chirurgeon, one hundred merks.[141]

[Sidenote: MAY 20.]

A _hership_ of cattle having taken place on the lands of Lord Rollo, in

Perthshire, the Master of Rollo was pleased to prosecute the matter a

little more energetically than was convenient to some of his neighbours.

He seems to have particularly excited the resentment of James Edmonstoun

of Newton, one of whose tenants was found in possession of a cow

reclaimed as part of the _hership_. Newton, being soon after at the

house of Clavidge, spoke some despiteful words regarding the Master,

which were afterwards taken notice of. At the same house, about the same

time, Patrick Graham, younger of Inchbrakie, spoke in the like angry

terms of the Master. ‘It has been noised in the country,’ said he, ‘that

I have courted the Master of Rollo, and fawned upon him; but when

occasion serves, something different will be seen.’

These two hot-headed men spent a couple of days together at Ryecroft, a

house of young Inchbrakie, and probably there inflamed their common

resentment by talking over their grievances. On the day noted in the

margin, hearing that the Master of Rollo was to go in the afternoon to

Invermay House, they rode to his house of Duncrub, and from that place

accompanied him to Invermay, together with the Laird of Clavidge and a

gentleman named M‘Naughton. Inchbrakie was remarked to have no sword,

while his companion Newton was provided with one. Supping at the

hospitable board of Invermay, these two conducted themselves much in the

manner of men seeking a quarrel. Inchbrakie said to the Master: ‘Master,

although John Stewart killed and [Sidenote: 1695.] salted two of your

kine, you surely will not pursue him, since your father and his Miss ate

them!’ Hereupon Clavidge remarked that this was not table-talk; to which

Newton made answer: ‘I think you are owning that.’ Then Inchbrakie and

Newton were observed to whisper together, and the latter was heard

saying: ‘I will not baulk you, Inchie.’ Afterwards, they went out

together, and by and by returned to table. What was the subject of their

conversation during absence, might only too easily be inferred from what

followed.

At ten o’clock the party broke up, and the strangers mounted their

horses, to ride to their respective homes. The Laird of Invermay, having

observed some mischief brewing in the mind of Newton, endeavoured to

make him stay for the night, but without success. The Master, Clavidge,

and M‘Naughton rode on, with Inchbrakie a little in front of them. When

Newton came up, Inchbrakie and he turned a little aside, and Newton was

then observed to loose his belt and give his sword to Inchbrakie. Then

riding on to the rest of the party, he contrived to lead Clavidge and

M‘Naughton a little ahead, and commenced speaking noisily about some

trivial matter. Hearing, however, the clashing of two swords behind

them, Clavidge and M‘Naughton turned back, along with Newton, and there

saw the Master of Rollo fallen on his knees, while Inchbrakie stood over

him. The latter called out to Newton, ‘He has got it.’ Clavidge rushed

to sustain the sinking man, while Inchbrakie and Newton went apart and

interchanged a few hurried sentences. Presently Newton came up again,

when Clavidge, perceiving that the Master was wounded to the death,

cried out: ‘O God, such a horrid murder was never seen!’ To this Newton,

standing coolly by, said: ‘I think not so—I think it has been fair.’ The

poor Master seems to have died immediately, and then Newton went again

aside with Inchbrakie, gave him his own hat, and assisted him to escape.

In the morning, when the two swords were found upon the ground, the

bloody one proved to be Newton’s.

Inchbrakie fled that night to the house of one John Buchanan, whom he

told that he had killed the Master of Rollo, adding, with tokens of

remorse: ‘Wo worth Newton—wo worth the company!’ and stating further

that Newton had egged him on, and given him a weapon, when he would

rather have declined fighting.

Inchbrakie escaped abroad, and was outlawed, but, procuring a [Sidenote:

1695.] remission, returned to his country in 1720.[142] James Edmonstoun

of Newton was tried (Aug. 6, 1695) for accession to the murder of John

Master of Rollo, and condemned to banishment for life.[143] It is stated

that, nevertheless, he carried the royal standard of James VIII. at the

battle of Sheriffmuir, and even after that event, lived many years on

his own estate in Strathearn.[144]

[Sidenote: MAY.]

The Estates at this date advert to the fact that sundry lands lying

along the sea-coast had been ruined, in consequence of their being

overwhelmed with sand driven from adjacent sand-hills, ‘the which has

been mainly occasioned by the pulling up by the roots of bent, juniper,

and broom bushes, which did loose and break the surface and scroof of

the sand-hills.’ In particular, ‘the barony of Cowbin and house and

yards thereof, lying in the sheriffdom of Elgin, is quite ruined and

overspread with sand,’ brought upon it by the aforesaid cause. Penalties

were accordingly decreed for such as should hereafter pull up bent or

juniper bushes on the coast sand-hills.[145]

A remarkable geological phenomenon, resulting in the ruin of a family of

Morayland gentry, is here in question. We learn from an act of

parliament, passed two months later, that, within the preceding twenty

years, two-thirds of the estate of Culbin had been overwhelmed with

blown sand, so that no trace of the manor-house, yards, orchards, or

mains thereof, was now to be seen, though formerly ‘as considerable as

many in the country of Moray.’ Alexander Kinnaird of Culbin now

represented to the parliament, that full cess was still charged for his

lands, being nearly as much as the remainder of them produced to him in

rent; and he petitioned that his unfortunate estate might, in

consideration of his extraordinary misfortune, be altogether exempted

from cess. Three years after this date, we hear of the remaining

_fourth_ part of Culbin as sold for the benefit of the creditors of the

proprietor, and himself suing to parliament for a personal protection.

In time, the entire ruin of the good old barony was completed. Hugh

Miller says: ‘I have wandered for hours amid the sandwastes of this

ruined barony, and seen only a few stunted bushes of broom, and a few

scattered tufts of withered bent, occupying, [Sidenote: 1695.] amid

utter barrenness, the place of what, in the middle of the seventeenth

century, had been the richest fields of the rich province of Moray; and,

where the winds had hollowed out the sand, I have detected, uncovered

for a few yards-breadth, portions of the buried furrows, sorely dried

into the consistence of sun-burned brick, but largely charged with the

seeds of the common cornfield weeds of the country, that, as ascertained

by experiment by the late Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, still retain their

vitality. It is said that an antique dove-cot, in front of the huge

sand-wreath which enveloped the manor-house, continued to present the

top of its peaked roof over the sand, as a foundered vessel sometimes

exhibits its vane over the waves, until the year 1760. The traditions of

the district testify that, for many years after the orchard had been

enveloped, the topmost branches of the fruit-trees, barely seen over the

surface, continued each spring languidly to throw out bud and blossom;

and it is a curious circumstance, that in the neighbouring churchyard of

Dike there is a sepulchral monument of the Culbin family, which, though

it does not date beyond the reign of James VI., was erected by a lord

and lady of the lost barony, at a time when they seem to have had no

suspicion of the utter ruin which was coming on their house. The quaint

inscription runs as follows:

VALTER : KINNAIRD : ELIZABETH : INNES : 1613 :

THE : BVILDARS : OF : THIS : BED : OF : STANE :

AR : LAIRD : AND : LADIE : OF : COVBINE :

QVHILK : TVA : AND : THARS : QVHANE : BRAITHE IS : GANE :

PLEIS : GOD : VIL : SLEIP : THIS : BED : VITHIN :

I refer to these facts, though they belong certainly to no very remote

age in the past history of our country, chiefly to shew that in what may

be termed the geological formations of the human period, very curious

fossils may be already deposited, awaiting the researches of the future.

As we now find, in raising blocks of stone from the quarry,

water-rippled surfaces lying beneath, fretted by the tracks of ancient

birds and reptiles, there is a time coming when, under thick beds of

stone, there may be detected fields and orchards, cottages,

manor-houses, and churches—the memorials of nations that have perished,

and of a condition of things and a stage of society that have for ever

passed away.’[146]

[Sidenote: JUNE 4.]

The same advantages of situation which are now thought to [Sidenote:

1695.] adapt Peterhead for a harbour of refuge for storm-beset

vessels—placed centrally and prominently on the east coast of

Scotland—rendered it very serviceable in affording shelter to vessels

pursued by those French privateers which, during the present war, were

continually scouring the German Ocean. Very lately, four English vessels

returning from Virginia and other foreign plantations with rich

commodities, would have inevitably been taken if they had not got into

Peterhead harbour, and been protected there by the fortifications and

the ‘resoluteness’ of the inhabitants. The spirit manifested in keeping

up the defences, and maintaining a constant guard and watch at the

harbour, had incensed the privateers not a little; and one Dunkirker of

thirty-four guns took occasion last summer to fire twenty-two great

balls at the town, nor did he depart without vowing (as afterwards

reported by a Scottish prisoner on board) to return and do his endeavour

to set it in a flame. The people, feeling their danger, and exhausted

with expensive furnishings and watchings, now petitioned the Privy

Council for a little military protection—which was readily granted.[147]

[Sidenote: JUNE.]

As political troubles subsided in Scotland, the spirit of mercantile

enterprise rose and gained strength. The native feelings of this kind

were of course stimulated by the spectacle of success presented in

England by the East India Company, and the active trade carried on with

the colonies. These sources of profit were monopolies; but Scotland

inquired, since she was an independent state, what was to hinder her to

have similar sources of profit established by her own legislature. The

dawnings of this spirit are seen in an act passed in the Scottish

parliament in 1693, wherein it is declared, ‘That merchants may enter

into societies and companies for carrying on trade as to any sort of

goods to whatsoever countries not being at war with their majesties,

where trade is in use to be, and particularly, besides the kingdoms of

Europe, to the _East and West Indies_, to the Straits and Mediterranean,

or upon the coast of Africa, or elsewhere,’ and promising to such

companies letters-patent for privileges and other encouragements, as

well as protection in case of their being attacked or injured. Amongst a

few persons favouring this spirit, was one of notable character and

history—WILLIAM PATERSON—a native of Scotland, but now practising

merchandise [Sidenote: 1695.] in London—a most active genius, well

acquainted with distant countries, not visionary, animated, on the

contrary, by sound commercial principles, yet living, unfortunately for

himself, before the time when there was either intelligence or means for

the successful carrying out of great mercantile adventures. Paterson, in

the early part of this year, had gained for himself a historical fame by

projecting and helping to establish the Bank of England. For his native

country he at the same time projected what he hoped would prove a second

East India Company.

At the date noted, an act passed the Scottish parliament, forming

certain persons named into an incorporation, under the name of _The

Company of Scotland Trading to Africa and the Indies_, who should be

enabled to ‘plant colonies, and build cities and forts, in any countries

in Asia, Africa, or America, not possest by any European sovereign,’ ‘by

consent of the natives and inhabitants thereof,’ and to take all proper

measures for their own protection and the advancement of their special

objects, only acknowledging the supremacy of the king by the annual

payment of a hogshead of tobacco. It was scrupulously arranged, however,

that at least one half of the stock of this Company should be subscribed

for by Scotsmen residing either at home or abroad.

Although the war pressed sorely on the resources of England, Paterson

calculated securely that there was enough of spare capital and

enterprise in London to cause the new Scottish trading scheme to be

taken up readily there. When the books for subscription were opened in

October, the whole £300,000 offered to the English merchants was at once

appropriated. By this time, the fears of the East India Company and of

the English mercantile class generally had been roused; it was believed

that the Scottish adventurers would compete with them destructively in

every place where they now enjoyed a lucrative trade. The parliament

took up the cry, and voted that the noblemen and gentlemen named in the

Scottish act were guilty of a high crime and misdemeanour. Irritated

rather than terrified by this denunciation, these gentlemen calmly

proceeded with their business in Scotland. The subscription books being

opened on the 26th of February 1696, the taking up of the stock became

something like a national movement. It scarcely appeared that the

country was a poor one. Noblemen, country gentlemen, merchants,

professional men, corporations of every kind, flocked to put down their

names for various sums according to their ability, till not merely the

£300,000 devoted to [Sidenote: 1695.] Scotsmen was engaged for, but some

additional capital besides.[148] In a list before me, with the sums

added up, I find the total is £336,390 sterling; but, of course, the

advance of this large sum was contemplated as to be spread over a

considerable space of time, the first instalment of 25 per cent. being

alone payable within 1696.

Meanwhile the furious denunciations of the English parliament proved a

thorough discouragement to the project in London, and nearly the whole

of the stockholders there silently withdrew from it; under the same

influence, the merchants of Hamburg were induced to withdraw their

support and co-operation, leaving Scotland to work out her own plans by

herself.

[Illustration: African Company’s House at Bristo Port, Edinburgh.]

She proceeded to do so with a courage much to be admired. A handsome

house for the conducting of the Company’s business was erected; schemes

for trade with Greenland, with Archangel, with the Gold Coast, were

considered; the qualities of goods, possible [Sidenote: 1695.]

improvements of machinery, the extent of the production of foreign

wares, were all the subject of careful inquiry. Under the glow of a new

national object, old grudges and antipathies were forgotten. William

Paterson, indeed, had set the pattern of a non-sectarian feeling from

the beginning, for, writing from London to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh

in July 1695, we find him using this strain of language, hitherto

unwonted in Scotland: ‘Above all, it is needful for us to make no

distinction of parties in this great undertaking; but of whatever nation

or religion a man be, he ought to be looked upon, if one of us, to be of

the same interest and inclination. We must not act apart in anything,

but in a firm and united body, and distinct from all other interests

whatsoever.’

The design of Paterson presents such indications of a great, an

original, and a liberal mind, as to make the obscurity which rests on

his history much to be regretted. The narrow, grasping, and monopolising

spirit which had hitherto marked the commerce of most nations, and

particularly the English and Spanish, was repudiated by this remarkable

Scotsman; he proposed, on some suitable situation in Central America, to

open a trade to all the world; he called on his countrymen not to try to

enrich themselves by making or keeping other nations poor, but by taking

the lead in a more generous system which should contemplate the good of

all. He himself embarked the few thousand pounds which he possessed in

the undertaking, and his whole conduct throughout its history exhibits

him not merely as a man of sound judgment and reflection, but one

superior to all sordid considerations.

For the further progress of the Company, the reader must be [Sidenote:

1695.] referred onward to July 1698, when the first expedition sailed

from Leith.

Further to improve the system of correspondence throughout the kingdom,

the parliament passed an act for establishing a General Post-office in

Edinburgh, under a postmaster-general, who was to have the exclusive

privilege of receiving and despatching letters, it being only allowed

that carriers should undertake that business on lines where there was no

regular post, and until such should be established. The rates were fixed

at 2_s._ Scots for a single letter within fifty Scottish miles, and for

greater distances in proportion. It was also ordained that there should

be a weekly post to Ireland, by means of a packet at Portpatrick, the

expense of which was to be charged on the Scottish office. By the same

law, the postmaster-general and his deputies were to have posts, and

furnish post-horses along all the chief roads ‘to all persons,’ ‘at

3_s._ Scots for ilk horse-hire for postage for every Scots mile,’

including the use of furniture and a guide.[149] It would appear that,

on this footing, the Post-office in Scotland was not a gainful concern,

for in 1698 Sir Robert Sinclair of Stevenston had a grant of the entire

revenue, with a pension of £300 sterling per annum, under the obligation

to keep up the posts, and after a little while gave up the charge, as

finding it disadvantageous.[150]

It is to be observed that this post-system for Scotland was provided

with but one centre—namely, the capital. Letters coming from London for

Glasgow arrived in Edinburgh in the first place, and were thence

despatched westwards at such times as might be convenient. At one time,

the letters were detained twelve hours in Edinburgh before being

despatched to Glasgow! It seems at present scarcely credible that, until

the establishment of Palmer’s mail-coaches in 1788, the letters from

London to Glasgow passed by this circuitous route, and not by a direct

one, although the western city had by that time a population of fifty

thousand, and was the seat of great commercial and manufacturing

industry.

[Sidenote: JULY.]

Glasgow—which in 1556 stood eleventh in the roll of the Scottish burghs,

contributing but £202, while Edinburgh afforded £2650—appears, in the

list now made up for a monthly cess to defray the expenses of the war,

as _second_, Edinburgh giving £3880; Glasgow, £1800; Aberdeen, £726;

Dundee, [Sidenote: 1695.] £560; Perth, £360; Kirkcaldy, £288, &c. ‘To

account for this comparative superiority of the wealth of Glasgow at

this time, I must take notice that since before the Restoration the

inhabitants had been in possession of the sale of both refined and raw

sugars for the greater part of Scotland; they had a privilege of

distilling spirits from their molasses, free from all duty and excise;

the herring-fishery was also carried on to what was, at that time,

thought a considerable extent; they were the only people in Scotland who

made soap; and they sent annually some hides, linen, &c., to Bristol,

from whence they brought back, in return, a little tobacco—which they

manufactured into snuff and otherwise—sugars, and goods of the

manufacture of England, with which they supplied a considerable part of

the whole kingdom.’—_Gibson’s History of Glasgow_, 1777.

It is probable that the population did not then exceed twelve thousand;

yet the seeds of that wonderful system of industry, which now makes

Glasgow so interesting a study to every liberal onlooker, were already

sown, and, even before the extension of English mercantile privileges to

Scotland at the Union, there was a face of business about the place—a

preparation of power and aptitude for what was in time to come. This

cannot be better illustrated than by a few entries in the Privy Council

Record regarding the fresh industrial enterprises which were from time

to time arising in the west.

_December 21, 1699._—A copartnery, consisting of William Cochran of

Ochiltree, John Alexander of Blackhouse, and Mr William Dunlop,

Principal of the University of Glasgow, with Andrew Cathcart, James

Colquhoun, Matthew Aitchison, Lawrence Dunwoodies, William Baxter,

Robert Alexander, and Mungo Cochran, merchants of Glasgow, was prepared

to set up a woollen manufactory there, designing to make ‘woollen stuffs

of all sorts, such as damasks, half-silks, draughts, friezes, drogats,

tartains, craips, capitations, russets, and all other stuffs for men and

women’s apparel, either for summer or winter.’ Using the native wool,

they expected to furnish goods equal to any imported, and ‘at as easie a

rate;’ for which end they are ‘providing the ablest workmen, airtiests,

from our neighbouring nations.’ They anticipated that by such means ‘a

vast soum of ready money will be kept within the kingdom, which these

years past has been exported, it being weel known that above ten

thousand pound sterling in specie hath been exported from the southern

and western parts of this kingdom to Ireland yearly for [Sidenote:

1695.] such stuffs, and yearly entered in the custom-house books,

besides what has been stolen in without entering.’

In the same year, John Adam, John Bryson, John Alexander, and Harry

Smith, English traders, had brought home to Glasgow ‘English workmen

skilled to work all hardware, such as pins, needles, scissors, scythes,

tobacco-boxes, and English knives, for which a great quantity of money

was yearly exported out of the kingdom.’ They designed so far to save

this sending out of money by setting up a hardware-manufactory in

Glasgow. On their petition, the Privy Council extended to their designed

work the privileges and immunities provided by statute for manufactories

set up in Scotland.

In the ensuing year, William Marshall, William Gray, John Kirkmyre, and

William Donaldson, merchants in Glasgow, projected the setting up of a

work there for making of ‘pins and needles,[151] boxes, shears, syshes,

knives, and other hardware,’ whereby they expected to keep much money

within the country, and give employment to ‘many poor and young boys,

who are and have been in these hard and dear times a burden to the

kingdom.’ To them likewise, on petition, were extended the privileges of

a manufactory.

_February, 1701._—Matthew and Daniel Campbell, merchants in Glasgow,

designed to set up an additional sugar-work, and, in connection with it,

a work ‘for distilling brandy and other spirits from all manner of grain

of the growth of this kingdom.’ With this view, they had ‘conduced and

engaged several foreigners and other persons eminently skilled in making

of sugar and distilling of brandy, &c., whom, with great travel,

charges, and expense, they had prevailed with to come to Glasgow.’ All

this was in order that ‘the nation may be the more plentifully and

easily provided with the said commodities, as good as any that have been

in use to be imported from abroad,’ and because ‘the distillery will

both be profitable for consumption of the product of the kingdom, and

for trade for the coast of Guinea and America, seeing that no trade can

be managed to the places foresaid, or the East Indies, without great

quantities of the foresaid liquors.’

[Sidenote: 1695.]

On their petition, the privileges of a manufactory were granted to them.

In the progress of manufacturing enterprise in the west, an additional

soap-work connected with a glass-work came to be thought of (February

1701). James Montgomery, younger, merchant in Glasgow, took into

consideration ‘how that city and all the country in its neighbourhood,

and further west, is furnished with glass bottles.’ The products of the

works at Leith and Morison’s Haven ‘cannot be transported but with a

vast charge and great hazard.’ He found, moreover, ‘ferns, a most useful

material for that work, to be very plenty in that country.’ There was

also, in the West Highlands, great abundance of wood-ashes, ‘which serve

for little or no other use, and may be manufactured first into good

white soap, which is nowhere made in the kingdom to perfection; and the

remains of these wood-ashes, after the soap is made, is a most excellent

material for making glass.’ He had, therefore, ‘since March last, been

with great application and vast charge seeking out the best workmen in

England,’ and making all other needful preparations for setting up such

a work.

On his petition, the Council endowed his work with the privileges of a

manufactory, ‘so as the petitioner and his partners may make soap and

glass of all kinds not secluded by the Laird of Prestongrange and his

act of parliament.’[152]

[Sidenote: JULY 7.]

The Bank of England, projected by the noted William Paterson, amidst and

by favour of the difficulties of the public exchequer during King

William’s expensive continental wars, may be said to have commenced its

actual banking operations on the first day of this year. Considerable

attention was drawn to the subject in London, and the establishment of a

similar public bank in both Ireland and Scotland became matter of

speculation. There was in London an almost retired merchant named John

Holland, who thought hereafter of spending his time chiefly in rural

retirement. To him came one day a friend, a native of Scotland, who was

inspired with a strong desire to see a bank established in his country.

He desired that Mr Holland would think of it. ‘Why,’ said the latter, ‘I

have nearly withdrawn from all such projects, and think only of how I

may spend the remainder of my days in peace.’ ‘Think of it,’ said his

Scottish friend, ‘and if you will [Sidenote: 1695.] enter into the

scheme, I can assure you of having an act of our parliament for it on

your own conditions.’

Mr Holland accordingly drew out a sketch of a plan for a bank in

Scotland, which his friend, in a very few days thereafter, had

transfused into a parliamentary bill of the Scottish form. He had also

spoken, he said, to most of his countrymen of any mercantile importance

in London to engage their favour for the scheme. Mr Holland was readily

induced to lend his aid in further operations, and the project appears

to have quickly come to a bearing, for, little more than six months from

the opening of the Bank of England, the act for the Bank of Scotland had

passed the native parliament.

In our country, as in England, exchanges and other monetary

transactions, such as are now left to banking companies, had hitherto

been solely in the hands of a few leading merchants; some such place as

the back-shop of a draper in the High Street of Edinburgh, or an obscure

counting-room in the Saltmarket of Glasgow, was all that we could shew

as a bank before this period; and the business transacted, being

proportioned to the narrow resources and puny industry of the country,

was upon a scale miserably small. Yet there was now, as we have seen, an

expansive tendency in Scotland, and the time seems to have arrived when

at least a central establishment for the entire country might properly

be tried in the capital.

While, unluckily, we do not know the name of the Scottish gentleman who

propounded the scheme to Mr Holland, we are enabled, by the recital of

the act, to ascertain who were the first patrons and nurses of the

project generally. Of merchants in London, besides the English name of

Mr Holland, we find those of Mr James Foulis,[153] Mr David Nairn, Mr

Walter Stuart, Mr Hugh Frazer, Mr Thomas Coutts, and Mr Thomas Deans,

who were all of them probably Scotsmen. Of Edinburgh merchants, there

were Mr William Erskine, Sir John Swinton, Sir Robert Dickson, Mr George

Clark, junior, and Mr John Watson. Glasgow was wholly unrepresented.

These individuals were empowered by the act to receive subscriptions

between the ensuing 1st of November and 1st of January. The whole scheme

was modest, frugal, and prudential in a high degree. [Sidenote: 1695.]

It was contemplated that the Bank of Scotland should start with a

subscribed capital of £1,200,000 Scots—that is, £100,000 sterling, in

shares of £1000 Scots each; two-thirds to be subscribed by individuals

residing in Scotland, and one-third by individuals residing in England,

no person to hold more than two shares. The company was to be under the

rule of a governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, of the

last of whom twelve should be English, these being ‘thought better

acquainted with the nature and management of a bank than those of

Scotland.’ As a further encouragement to English assistance, the act

ordained that any person subscribing for a part of the stock, should be

considered as _ipso facto_ naturalised.

The subscription of the £66,666, 13_s._ 4_d._ allowed to Scotland began

at the appointed time, the Marquis of Tweeddale, his majesty’s

commissioner to parliament, and his son, Lord Yester, being the first

who put down their names. The subscription of the remaining £33,333,

6_s._ 8_d._ was effected in London in one day, the chief adventurers

being Scotsmen resident there. The heads of the concern in Edinburgh

felt themselves sadly ignorant of the arrangements required for a public

bank, and deemed it absolutely necessary that Mr Holland should come

down to advise and superintend their proceedings. He very generously

agreed to do so, reside for some time in Edinburgh, and return upon his

own charges; while they, as liberally, took care, by a rich present to

his wife, that he should be no loser by the journey. He relates[154]

that his proposals were all at first objected to and controverted by the

Scotch managers, in consequence of their utter ignorance of banking, yet

all in perfect good-humour, and manifestly from a pure desire to get at

the expedients which were best; and all were ultimately agreed to. This

occasioned a difficulty at starting, and to this was added no small

amount of jealous opposition and distrust; nevertheless, Mr Holland

remarks that, within two months, and even while the Bank of England was

notoriously unable to pay its bills, those of the Scottish establishment

had attained to a surprising degree of credit. It may here be remarked,

that, ere long, by consent of the English proprietors, the whole

twenty-four directors were elected from the Scottish shareholders,

leaving thirteen English ones to act as trustees, ‘to manage what

affairs the company [Sidenote: 1695.] should have at London;’ and in

time, when there were no longer so many as thirteen proprietors in

England, even this arrangement was abandoned.

Several of the prominent Scottish shareholders were members of the

African Company; but it appears that there was anything but a concert or

good agreement between the two sets of projectors. Paterson regarded the

Bank of Scotland as in some degree a rival to his scheme, and talked of

the act appointing it as having been ‘surreptitiously gained.’ While so

sanguine about the African Company, he thought the bank unlikely to

prove a good thing to those concerned in it, little foreseeing that it

would flourish for centuries after the Indian Company had sunk in its

first calamitous venture.

The Bank of Scotland set up in a floor in the Parliament Close, with a

moderate band of officials, and _ten thousand pounds sterling of paid-up

capital_. It had scarcely started, when the African Company added a

banking business to its other concerns, meaning thus to overpower the

project of Mr Holland. That gentleman was in Edinburgh at the time. He

saw that the African Company was in the highest vogue with the public,

while few took any notice of his modest establishment. As governor, he

prudently counselled that they should make no attempt to enforce the

exclusive privilege which the statute had conferred upon them for

twenty-one years, but to limit themselves to standing on their guard

against ‘that mighty Company,’ lest it should try to injure or ‘affront’

them by a run upon their cash. For this reason, by his advice, twenty

thousand pounds of the capital was called up, in addition to the ten

thousand lodged at first. The smallness of these sums is amusing to men

who know what banking in Scotland now is; yet it appears that from the

first the Bank of Scotland had five, ten, twenty, fifty, and hundred

pound notes. After a little while, it was found that banking did not

succeed with the African Company, chiefly because they lent money in too

large sums to their own shareholders, and the Bank of Scotland was then

allowed to go on without any competition. The capital lately called up

was then paid back, leaving the original sum of £10,000 alone in the

hands of the bank.

The chief business of the bank at first was the lending of money on

heritable bonds and other securities. The giving of bills of

exchange—the great business of the private bankers—was, after

deliberation at a general meeting of the ‘adventurers,’ tried, with a

view to extending the usefulness of the concern as far as [Sidenote:

1695.] possible. In pursuance of the same object, and ‘for carrying the

circulation of their notes through the greatest part of the kingdom,’

branch-offices were erected at Glasgow, Dundee, Montrose, and Aberdeen,

‘with cashiers and overseers at each place, for receiving and paying

money, in the form of inland exchange, by notes and bills made for that

purpose.’ But, after what appeared a fair trial, the directors ‘found

that _the exchange trade was not proper for a banking company_.’ A bank

they conceived to be ‘chiefly designed as a common repository of the

nation’s cash—a ready fund for affording credit and loans, and for

making receipts and payments of money easy by the company’s notes.’ To

deal in exchange was ‘to interfere with the trade and business of

private merchants.’ The Bank of Scotland found it ‘very troublesome,

unsafe, and improper.’ One reason cited some years afterwards, by a

person connected with the bank, was—‘There is so much to be done in that

business without doors, at all hours by day and night, with such variety

of circumstances and conditions, as are inconsistent with the precise

hours of a public office, and the rules and regulations of a

well-governed company; and no company like the bank can be managed

without fixing stated office-hours for business, and establishing rules

and regulations which will never answer the management of the exchange

trade.’ As for the branch-offices, the inland exchange contemplated

there failed from another cause, strikingly significant of the small

amount of commercial intercourse then existing between the capital and

the provinces of Scotland. The bank, we are told, found it impracticable

to support the four sub-offices ‘but at an expense far exceeding the

advantage and conveniency rising therefrom; for, though the company

would willingly have been at some moderate charge to keep them up, if

they could thereby have effectuated an answerable circulation of

bank-notes about these places, for accommodating the lieges in their

affairs, yet they found that those offices did contribute to neither of

those ends; for the money that was once lodged at any of those places by

the cashiers issuing bills payable at Edinburgh, _could not be redrawn

thence by bills from Edinburgh_‘—of course, because of there being so

little owing in Edinburgh to persons residing in the provinces. So,

after a considerable outlay in trying the branch-offices, the directors

were obliged to give them up, and ‘bring back their money to Edinburgh

by horse-carriage.’[155]

[Sidenote: 1695.]

The company’s business was thenceforward for many years ‘wholly

restricted to lending money, which seems to be the only proper business

of a bank, and all to be transacted at Edinburgh.’[156]

[Sidenote: JULY 17.]

The estates of Duncan Forbes of Culloden, in sundry parishes near

Inverness, having been much wasted in 1689 and 1690, both by the ravages

of the king’s enemies and the necessary sustentation of his troops, he

now gave in a petition shewing that his damages had in all amounted to

the sum of £47,400, 6_s._ 8_d._ Scots. The parliament recommended his

case to the gracious consideration of his majesty,[157] and the result

was a requital, not in money, but in the form of a perpetual privilege

to the Laird of Culloden of distilling from the grain raised on his

estate of Ferintosh, upon paying of only a small composition in lieu of

excise.

The estate of Ferintosh consisted of about eighteen hundred arable

acres,[158] and the produce of barley was so considerable that a very

large quantity of whisky came to be produced within its bounds; Hugo

Arnot says nearly as much as in all the rest of Scotland together—but

Hugo, it must be admitted, is a remarkably unstatistical author.

Whatever might be the exact truth, there was certainly a surprising

quantity of usquebaugh issued forth from the domains of Forbes, insomuch

that _Ferintosh_ came to be that _quasi_ synonym for whisky which

‘Kilbagie’ and ‘Glenlivet’ afterwards were in succession. The privilege

of course yielded a large revenue to the family, and in time made ample

compensation for all their patriotic sufferings past and potential. In

1784, when at length the government was inclined to purchase it back,

there was such a demonstration made of its lucrativeness, that the

capital sum of £21,500 assigned for it was thought to be but a poor

equivalent.

The minister of Dingwall, in his account of the parish, written a few

years after the abolition of the Ferintosh privilege, tells of a

remarkable consequence of that measure. During the continuance of the

privilege, quarrels and breaches of the peace were abundant among the

inhabitants, yielding a good harvest of business to the procurators (i.

e. solicitors) of Dingwall. When the privilege ceased, the people became

more peaceable, and the prosperity of attorneyism in Dingwall sustained

a marked abatement.

[Sidenote: 1695. MAY 16.]

It was not so _subscribing_ a world at the close of the seventeenth

century as it is now; yet, poor as our country then was, she kept her

heart open for important public objects, and for works in which faith

and charity were concerned.

There was no bridge over the Clyde between Bothwell Bridge and

Little-gill Bridge, a space of eighteen miles. At Lanark, there was a

ferry-boat; but the river was frequently impassable, and there were

repeated instances of the whole passengers being swept down and engulfed

in the Stonebyres Linn. Arrangements were now made, chiefly by a

collection at all the church-doors in the kingdom, for building ‘a

sufficient stone bridge’ at the foot of the Inch of Clydeholm—this

charitable measure being rendered necessary by the poverty to which the

burgh of Lanark had been reduced by spoliation during the late reign,

‘by exactions of fines, free quarters for soldiers, and the like.’

By order of parliament, a collection of money was made, in July 1695, in

the parish churches of the kingdom, for the benefit of Andrew Watson,

skipper, and eight mariners of his vessel, who, in a voyage from Port

Glasgow to Madeira, on the 19th of November in the preceding year, in

latitude 38 degrees, had been attacked by two Salee rovers, and by them

carried as captives to Mamora, in Marocco. In their petition to

parliament, they described themselves as resting in a slavery more cruel

and barbarous than they could express, without the proper necessaries of

life, and ‘above all, deprived of the precious gospel, which they too

much slighted when they enjoyed it,’ with no prospect before them but to

die in misery and torment, unless they have some speedy relief. The

contributions were to be handed to John Spreul, merchant in Glasgow, he

finding caution to apply them to their proper end.

[Sidenote: 1697. APR. 15.]

‘Those of the Scots nation residing at Konigsberg, in Prussia,’

petitioned the Privy Council by their deputy, Mr Francis Hay, for

assistance in building a kirk for their use, for which they had obtained

a liberty from the Duke of Brandenburg. A collection at all the

church-doors in the kingdom was ordained for this purpose; and it is

surprising with what sympathy the poor commons of Scotland would enter

on a movement of this kind. We find that the little parish of Spott, in

East Lothian, contributed nearly three pounds sterling towards the

Konigsberg kirk.

At the ‘break of a storm’—by which is meant the melting of a great fall

of snow—in November 1698, the southern streams were flooded, and the

bridge of Ancrum was so broken and damaged that it could be no longer

serviceable. This being the only bridge [Sidenote: 1698.] upon the water

of Teviot, on an important line of communication between the north and

south in the centre of the Borders, and there being no ferry-boat on the

river but one seven miles further up, it was most desirable that it

should be rebuilt; but the calculated expense was betwixt eight and nine

thousand merks (from £450 to £500 sterling), and an act of Council

offering a pontage to any one who would undertake this business

altogether failed of its object. In these circumstances, the only

alternative was a collection at all the church-doors in the kingdom, and

permission to make such a levy was accordingly granted by the Privy

Council.

[Sidenote: 1695. AUG.]

The vicissitudes of witchcraft jurisprudence in Scotland are remarkable.

While Presbyterianism of the puritanic type reigned uncontrolled between

1640 and 1651, witches were tortured to confession and savagely burnt,

in vast numbers, the clergy not merely concurring, but taking a lead in

the proceedings. During the Cromwell ascendency, English squeamishness

greatly impeded justice in this department, to the no small

dissatisfaction of the more zealous. On the Restoration, the liberated

energies of the native powers fell furiously on, and got the land in a

year or two pretty well cleared of those vexatious old women who had

been allowed to accumulate during the past decade. From 1662 to the

Revolution, prosecutions for witchcraft were comparatively rare, and,

however cruel the government might be towards its own opponents, it must

be acknowledged to have introduced and acted consistently upon rules to

some extent enlightened and humane with regard to witches—namely, that

there should be no torture to extort confession, and no conviction

without fair probation. I am not sure if the opposite party would not

have ascribed it mainly to the latitudinarianism of Episcopacy, that the

whole history of witchcraft, throughout the two last Stuart reigns,

betrayed an appearance as if the authorities were not themselves clear

for such prosecutions, and, in dictating them, only made a concession to

the popular demands.

For a few years after the Revolution, the subject rested in the

quiescence which had fallen upon it some years before. But at length the

General Assembly began to see how necessary it was to look after witches

and charmers, and some salutary admonitions about these offenders were

from time to time issued. The office of Lord Advocate, or public

prosecutor, had now fallen into the hands of Sir James Steuart of

Goodtrees, a person who shared in the highest convictions of the

religious party at present in power, [Sidenote: 1695.] including

reverence for the plain meaning of the text, ‘Thou shalt not suffer a

witch to live.’ The consequence was, that the reign of William III.

became a new Witch Period in Scotland, and one involving many notable

cases.

[Sidenote: AUG. 8.]

In August 1695, two married women, named M‘Rorie and M‘Quicken, residing

respectively at the Mill-burn and Castlehill of Inverness, were in the

Tolbooth of that northern burgh, under a suspicion of being witches; and

the Privy Council, seeing the inconvenience of having them brought to an

inquest in Edinburgh, issued a commission for their being tried on the

spot by David Polson of Kinmilnes, sheriff-depute of Inverness; William

Baillie, commissar there; Alexander Chisholm, bailie to Lord Lovat;

Duncan Forbes of Culloden; —— Cuthbert of Castlehill; and —— Duff,

provost of Inverness, any three of them to be a quorum. The arrangements

for the trial were all carefully specified in this commission; and it

was intimated in the end that, ‘in case the said judges shall find the

said panels guilty of the said horrid crime laid to their charge,’ the

commissioners should adjudge them ‘to be burned or otherwise execute to

death.’

In March 1696, a commission was issued in similar terms for the trial of

‘Janet Widdrow, in the parish of Kilmacolm, presently prisoner in the

Tolbooth of Paisley, alleged guilty of the horrid crime of witchcraft.’

Two months later, the Lord Advocate applied to the Council for an

extension of power to the commission against Janet Widdrow, as ‘it is

now informed that the said Janet doth fyle and put out several others,

and as there are some persons in these bounds against whom there are

probable and pregnant grounds of suspicion.’ The request was complied

with.

Some months later (December 3, 1696), we hear of some informalities in

the process against Janet Widdrow and Isobel Cochrane, and the Lord

Advocate was requested to report on the matter.[159]

So much for the present; but let the reader see onward under February

1697, March 1, 1698, &c.

[Sidenote: AUG.]

It is remarked by a Presbyterian historian of the popular class, that

the time of the ‘Persecution’ was one of general abundance. God, he

believed, did not choose to let his people suffer in more ways than one.

But, not long after King William had brought days of religious security,

the seasons began to be bad, and much physical suffering ensued.

According to this historian, Alexander [Sidenote: 1695.] Peden foretold

how it would be. ‘As long,’ said he, ‘as the lads are upon the hills,

you will have bannocks o’er night; but if once you were beneath the

bield of the brae, you will have clean teeth and many a black and pale

face in Scotland.’[160]

Nevertheless, the country was so much at its ease in the matter of food

in July 1695, that the Estates then passed an act for encouraging the

export of grain, allowing it to go out duty free, and ordaining that so

it should be whenever wheat was at or under twelve pounds (Scots) the

boll; bear, barley, and malt under eight; pease and oats, under six;

provided these grains should be carried in Scottish ships.

By an act passed in 1672, it was forbidden to import meal from Ireland

while the price in Scotland remained below a certain rate. And that this

was a serious matter, is proved by an order of Council in April 1695,

for _staving_ the grain brought from Carrickfergus in two vessels, named

the _James_ and the _Isobel_, and for handing over the vessels

themselves to Sir Duncan Campbell of Auchinbreck, who had seized them on

their way to a Scottish port. It never occurred to a legislator of those

days that there was a kind of absurdity, as well as a glaring

selfishness, in arranging for his own country receiving while it should

not give.

As if to rebuke such policy, the very month after good food prospects

had induced the Scottish Estates to permit of exportation, the crop was

stricken in one night by an easterly fog, and ‘got little more good of

the ground.’[161] The corn was both bad and dear. So early as November,

this produced a disorder of the cholera type, accompanied by severe

fevers: ‘all our old physicians had never seen the like, and could make

no help.’ It was not in all cases the direct result of bad unwholesome

victual, for several, who used old corn, or sent to Glasgow for Irish

meal, were nevertheless smitten with the prevailing malady, ‘in a more

violent and infectious manner than the poorest in the land.’[162]

The price of victual having, in the western shires, ascended beyond the

importation rate fixed in 1672, the Privy Council (December 13), ‘in

consideration of the present scarcity in those parts, and the distress

ensuing upon it,’ gave allowance for the importation of meal, ‘but of no

other grain,’ from Ireland, to ‘any port between the mouth of Annan and

the head of Kintyre,’ between this date and the 1st of February

exclusive.

[Sidenote: 1695.]

A few days later, the Council took measures for fining certain baxters

of Glasgow and others who had imported grain before the issue of the

above licence.

On the 7th of February 1696, the Council extended the period during

which Irish meal might be imported to the 15th of April, seeing that the

price of the article in the western shires still continued above that

set down in the act of 1672. On the 25th of February, the period was

farther extended to the 15th of May.

In June, the evil having become more serious, the whole ports of the

kingdom were opened to foreign grain, while the usual denunciations were

launched against persons keeping up victual in girnels and stacks.

[Sidenote: 1696. AUG.] Now the summer was passing into autumn, and the

weather was of such a character, or, as the Privy Council expressed it,

the season was so ‘unnatural,’ ‘as doth sadly threaten the misgiving and

blasting of the present crop, to the increase of that distress whereby

the kingdom is already afflicted.’ For these reasons, at the request of

the church, a fast was proclaimed for the 25th of August in churches

south of the Tay, and on the 8th of September in ‘all the planted

churches of the rest of this kingdom.’

Viewing the ‘pinching straits and wants’ of the poor at this crisis, and

the demands which these make upon Christian charity and compassion, the

Council recommended that on the day of the fast, and the Lord’s Day

thereafter, there should be a ‘cheerful and liberal contribution’ at the

church-doors for the indigent, ‘as the best and most answerable

expression of earnestness in the aforesaid duty.’ Another edict held out

a bounty of one pound Scots for every boll of foreign victual

imported.[163]

Some Englishmen having brought a parcel of corn to the market of Kelso,

William Kerr of Chatto’s servants exacted from them a custom he had a

right to from all victual there sold—this right being one of which his

family had been ‘in immemorial possession.’ The Englishmen resisted the

exaction with scorn and violence, and Chatto was obliged to appeal for

protection of his right to the Privy Council. Such, however, was at that

time the need for foreign grain, that the Council suspended Chatto’s

right for the next three months.

[Sidenote: JULY 30.]

Some gentlemen in Edinburgh received information from their

correspondents in Aberdeenshire, that that county and the one next

adjacent were nearly destitute of victual, and that ‘if they be

[Sidenote: 1696.] not speedily supplied, and victual transported

[thither], a good part of that and the next county will undoubtedly

starve.’ Already, within the last fortnight, several had died from want.

In these circumstances, George Fergusson, bailie of Old Meldrum, and

Alexander Smith, writer in Edinburgh, proposed to purchase a thousand or

twelve hundred bolls of corn and bear in the north of England, and have

it carried by sea to Aberdeen, there to sell it at any rate the proper

authorities might appoint above the cost and the expense of carriage,

and the surplus to be used for any suitable public object, the proposers

having no desire of profit for themselves, ‘but allenarly the keeping of

the poor in the said shire from starving.’ They were anxious, however,

to be protected from the risk of losing their outlay, in case the vessel

should be taken by the French privateers, and they petitioned the Privy

Council accordingly. Their wishes were recommended to the consideration

of the Lords of the Treasury.

It was reported from Roxburghshire, on the 22d December 1696, that, in

consequence of the ‘great frosts, excessive rains, and storms of snow,’

the corns in many places ‘are neither cut down nor led in, nor is the

samen ripened nor fit for any use, albeit it were cut down and led in.’

The boll of meal was already at twenty-four pounds Scots, and bear,

wheat, and rye at fourteen or fifteen pounds per boll. Already many poor

people and honest householders were ‘reduced to pinching straits and

want,’ and still more extreme scarcity was to be expected.

In these circumstances, the Lords of the Privy Council granted

permission to Thomas Porteous, late provost, and Robert Ainslie, late

bailie in Jedburgh, to import victual from England without duty,

_overland_. If any of the said victual should be imported by sea, it

would be confiscated for the use of the poor, ‘unless it can be made

appear that the victual imported by sea was bought and paid for by the

product of this kingdom, and not by transporting money out of the

kingdom for the same.’[164]

[Sidenote: 1695. NOV. 22.]

The Feast of St Cecilia was celebrated in Edinburgh with a concert of

vocal and instrumental music, shewing a more advanced state of the art

than might have been expected.[165] The scheme of the performances

exhibits a series of pieces by Italian masters, as [Sidenote: 1695.]

Corelli and Bassani, to be executed by first and second violins, flutes

and hautbois, and basses; the opening piece giving seven first violins,

five second violins, six flutes and two hautbois. There were thirty

performers in all, nineteen of them gentlemen-amateurs, and eleven

teachers of music. Among the former were Lord Colville, Sir John

Pringle, Mr Seton of Pitmedden, Mr Falconer of Phesdo, Mr John

(afterwards General) Middleton, Lord Elcho, and Mr John Corse, keeper of

the Low Parliament House Records. Some of these gentlemen are described

as having been skilled in music, and good players on the violin,

harpsichord, flute, and hautbois. Among the professional men were Henry

Crumbden, a German, ‘long the Orpheus in the music-school of Edinburgh;’

Matthew M‘Gibbon, father of William M‘Gibbon, noted for his sets of

Scots airs with variations and basses; Adam Craig, a good

orchestra-player on the violin; Daniel Thomson, one of the king’s

trumpets; and William Thomson, a boy, son of the above, afterwards

editor of a well-known collection (being the first) of Scots songs, with

the music.[166]

See under 1718 for further notices of the rise and progress of music in

Scotland.

[Sidenote: NOV.]

In this age, every person of any note who died became the subject of a

metrical elegy, which was printed on a broadside, and cried through the

streets. Allan Ramsay, a few years later, makes satiric allusion to the

practice:

None of all the rhyming herd

Are more encouraged and revered,

By heavy souls to theirs allied,

Than such who tell who lately died.

No sooner is the spirit flown

From its clay cage to lands unknown,

Than some rash hackney gets his name,

And through the town laments the same.

An honest burgess cannot die,

But they must weep in elegy:

Even when the virtuous soul is soaring

Through middle air, he hears it roaring.[167]

The poetry of these mortuary verses is usually as bad as the typography,

and that is saying a great deal; yet now and then [Sidenote: 1695.] one

falls in with a quaint couplet or two—as, for example, in the piece:

ON THE MUCH TO BE LAMENTED DEATH OF WORTHY UMPHREY MILNE, WATCHMAKER,

BURGESS OF THE METROPOLITAN CITY OF SCOTLAND, WHO DEPARTED THIS

LIFE, NOVEMBER THE 18TH, 1695.

In gloomy shades of darksome night, where Phœbus hides his head,

I heard an echo cry aloud, that Umphrey Milne was dead.

My stupid senses rose aloft and wakened with a cry,

Let Pegasus, the Muses’ horse, go through the air and fly,

To tell the ends of all the earth that he has lost his breath—

· · · · ·

I will not name his parentage, his breeding, nor his birth;

But he that runs may read his life—he was a man of worth.

He valued not this earth below, although he had it _satis_,

He loved to lay his stock above, and now he is _beatus_.

· · · · ·

Since none can well describe his worth that in this land doth dwell,

He’ll waken at the trumpet’s blow, and answer for himsell.

The street elegists got a capital subject in July 1700, when Lady Elcho

died in youth and beauty, in consequence of her clothes catching

fire.[168] Of her it is said:

Were it the custom now to canonise,

We might her in the Alb of Saints comprise.

She either was as free from faults as they,

Or had she faults, the flame purged these away.

As to her ladyship’s surviving husband:

Only well-grounded hopes of her blest state

Can his excessive agonies abate,

And the two hopeful boys she left behind,

May mitigate the sorrows of his mind.

[Sidenote: DEC. 13.]

The dies and punches required for the new coinage now about to be

issued, were the work of James Clarke, being the first time the work had

ever been executed within the kingdom. James had done the whole business

in less than a year, ‘which used to take no less than two or three years

when executed in England, and cost the general and master of the Mint

great attendance and much expenses;’ but as yet ‘he had not received one

farthing for his work,’ although it had been agreed that he should have

a half of his charges beforehand. The Privy Council, on his petition,

[Sidenote: 1695.] _recommended_ the Treasury to pay him two hundred

pounds sterling, being the sum agreed upon.[169]

[Sidenote: DEC.]

In Scotland, justice had at this time, as heretofore, a geographical

character. It did not answer for a Highlander to be tried too near the

lands of his feudal enemies. If, on the other hand, he was to be tried

in Edinburgh, his accusers were likely to find the distance

inconveniently great, and prefer letting him go free.

James Macpherson of Invernahaven was under citation to appear before the

Lords of Justiciary at Inverness, on a charge of having despoiled John

Grant of Conygass of certain oxen, sheep, and other goods in June or

July 1689, ‘when Dundee was in the hills.’ The Laird of Grant being

sheriff of Inverness, and other Grants engaged in the intended trial,

Macpherson, though protesting his entire innocence, professed to have no

hope of ‘impartial justice;’ yet he appeared at the citation, and was

immediately committed close prisoner to the Tolbooth of Inverness, where

he was denied the use of pen and ink, and the access of his friends, so

that he ‘expected nothing but a summary execution.’

On his petition, the Privy Council ordained (December 10) that he should

be liberated under caution, and allowed to undergo a trial before the

Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh. He accordingly presented himself

before the Lords on the last day of the year, and was committed to the

Tolbooth of Edinburgh. On the 28th of January, he petitioned for entire

liberation, as Grant of Conygass failed to appear to urge the

prosecution; and, with the concurrence of the Laird of Grant, a member

of the Privy Council, this petition was complied with.[170]

Not content with the proper Physic Garden assigned to him at the end of

the North Loch,[171] James Sutherland had, in February last, extended

his operations to ‘the north yard of the Abbey where the great Dial

stands, and which is near to the Tennis Court.’ Under encouragement from

the Lords of the Treasury, he had been active in levelling and dressing

the ground. He ‘had there this summer a good crop of melons;’ he had

‘raised many other curious annuals, fine flowers, and other plants not

ordinary in this country.’ He entertained no doubt of being [Sidenote:

1695.] able in a few years ‘to have things in as good order as they are

about London,’ if supplied with such moderate means as were required to

defray charges and make the needful improvements, ‘particularly

reed-hedges to divide, shelter, and lay the ground _lown_ and warm, and

a greenhouse and a store to preserve oranges, lemons, myrtles, with

other tender greens, and fine exotic plants in winter.’

Fifty pounds sterling had been assigned to Sutherland out of the vacant

stipends of Tarbat and Fearn in Ross-shire; but of this only about a

half had been forthcoming, and he had expended of his own funds upwards

of a thousand pounds Scots (£83, 13_s._ 4_d._ sterling). He entreated

the Lords of the Privy Council to grant reimbursement and further

encouragement, ‘without which the work must cease, and the petitioner

suffer in reputation and interest, what he is doing being more for the

honour of the nation, the ornament and use of his majesty’s palace, than

his own private behoof.’