CHAPTER XV--ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE STREETS

In ancient times, Gudetown had been fortified with ports and gates at the

end of the streets; and in troublesome occasions, the country people, as

the traditions relate, were in the practice of driving in their families

and cattle for shelter. This gave occasion to that great width in our

streets, and those of other royal burghs, which is so remarkable; the

same being so built to give room and stance for the cattle. But in those

days the streets were not paved at the sides, but only in the middle, or,

as it was called, the crown of the causey; which was raised and backed

upward, to let the rain-water run off into the gutters. In progress of

time, however, as the land and kingdom gradually settled down into an

orderly state, the farmers and country folk having no cause to drive in

their herds and flocks, as in the primitive ages of a rampageous

antiquity, the proprietors of houses in the town, at their own cost,

began, one after another, to pave the spaces of ground between their

steadings and the crown of the causey; the which spaces were called

lones, and the lones being considered as private property, the

corporation had only regard to the middle portion of the street--that

which I have said was named the crown of the causey.

The effect of this separation of interests in a common good began to

manifest itself, when the pavement of the crown of the causey, by

neglect, became rough and dangerous to loaded carts and gentlemen's

carriages passing through the town; in so much that, for some time prior

to my second provostry, the carts and carriages made no hesitation of

going over the lones, instead of keeping the highway in the middle of the

street; at which many of the burgesses made loud and just complaints.

One dark night, the very first Sunday after my restoration to the

provostry, there was like to have happened a very sore thing by an old

woman, one Peggy Waife, who had been out with her gown-tail over her head

for a choppin of strong ale. As she was coming home, with her ale in a

greybeard in her hand, a chaise in full bir came upon her and knocked her

down, and broke the greybeard and spilt the liquor. The cry was

terrible; some thought poor Peggy was killed outright, and wives, with

candles in their hands, started out at the doors and windows. Peggy,

however, was more terrified than damaged; but the gentry that were in the

chaise, being termagant English travellers, swore like dragoons that the

streets should be indicted as a nuisance; and when they put up at the

inns, two of them came to me, as provost, to remonstrate on the shameful

condition of the pavement, and to lodge in my hands the sum of ten pounds

for the behoof of Peggy; the which was greater riches than ever the poor

creature thought to attain in this world. Seeing they were gentlemen of

a right quality, I did what I could to pacify them, by joining in every

thing they said in condemnation of the streets; telling them, at the same

time, that the improvement of the causey was to be the very first object

and care of my provostry. And I bade Mrs Pawkie bring in the wine

decanters, and requested them to sit down with me and take a glass of

wine and a sugar biscuit; the civility of which, on my part, soon brought

them into a peaceable way of thinking, and they went away, highly

commanding my politess and hospitality, of which they spoke in the

warmest terms, to their companion when they returned to the inns, as the

waiter who attended them overheard, and told the landlord, who informed

me and others of the same in the morning. So that on the Saturday

following, when the town-council met, there was no difficulty in getting

a minute entered at the sederunt, that the crown of the causey should be

forthwith put in a state of reparation.

Having thus gotten the thing determined upon, I then proposed that we

should have the work done by contract, and that notice should be given

publicly of such being our intent. Some boggling was made to this

proposal, it never having been the use and wont of the corporation, in

time past, to do any thing by contract, but just to put whatever was

required into the hands of one of the council, who got the work done in

the best way he could; by which loose manner of administration great

abuses were often allowed to pass unreproved. But I persisted in my

resolution to have the causey renewed by contract; and all the

inhabitants of the town gave me credit for introducing such a great

reformation into the management of public affairs.

When it was made known that we would receive offers to contract, divers

persons came forward; and I was a little at a loss, when I saw such

competition, as to which ought to be preferred. At last, I bethought me,

to send for the different competitors, and converse with them on the

subject quietly; and I found in Thomas Shovel, the tacksman of Whinstone-

quarry, a discreet and considerate man. His offer was, it is true, not

so low as some of the others; but he had facilities to do the work

quickly, that none of the rest could pretend to; so, upon a clear

understanding of that, with the help of the dean of guild M'Lucre's

advocacy, Thomas Shovel got the contract. At first, I could not divine

what interest my old friend, the dean of guild, had to be so earnest in

behalf of the offering contractor; in course of time, however, it spunkit

out that he was a sleeping partner in the business, by which he made a

power of profit. But saving two three carts of stones to big a dyke

round the new steading which I had bought a short time before at the town-

end, I had no benefit whatever. Indeed, I may take it upon me to say,

that should not say it, few provosts, in so great a concern, could have

acted more on a principle than I did in this; and if Thomas Shovel, of

his free-will, did, at the instigation of the dean of guild, lay down the

stones on my ground as aforesaid, the town was not wronged; for, no

doubt, he paid me the compliment at some expense of his own profit.

The Provost · 第 15 / 47 章