Another of this class was John Trotter, son of Thomas Trotte

EDINBURGH PAPERS

BY

ROBERT CHAMBERS, F.R.S.E.,

F.S.A.Sc., F.G.S., F.L.S., &c.

AUTHOR OF ‘TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH.’

EDINBURGH MERCHANTS

AND

MERCHANDISE IN OLD TIMES

[Illustration]

WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS,

LONDON AND EDINBURGH.

1859.

EDINBURGH

MERCHANTS AND MERCHANDISE

IN OLD TIMES.

TO THE

MERCHANT COMPANY OF EDINBURGH,

THIS LECTURE, DELIVERED AT THEIR REQUEST,

FEBRUARY 14, 1859,

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.

EDINBURGH MERCHANTS AND MERCHANDISE IN OLD TIMES.

I do not propose, on this occasion, to carry your minds back to a very

remote period, for, truth to tell, Scotland was not distinguished for

commerce at an early date. You will not be surprised if I briefly

remark that we hear nothing of trade in Leith harbour till the reign

of Bruce, and have reason to believe that it hardly had an existence

for a century later. Dr Nicolas West, an emissary of Henry VIII.,

visited Scotland in 1513, just before the battle of Flodden, and he

tells us that he then found at Leith only nine or ten small topmen,

or ships with rigging, which, from his remarks, we may infer to have

all been under sixty tons burden. There was then but a meagre traffic

carried on with the Low Countries, France, and Spain—wool, skins, and

salmon carried out; and wine, silks, cloth, and miscellaneous articles

imported: matters altogether so insignificant, that there are but a few

scattered references to them in the acts of the national parliament.

One may have some idea of the pettiness of any external trade carried

on by Edinburgh in the early part of the sixteenth century, from what

we know of the condition of Leith at that time. It was but a village,

without quay or pier, and with no approach to the harbour except by

an alley—the still existing Burgess Close, which in some parts is not

above four feet wide. We must imagine any merchandise then brought to

Leith as carried in vessels of the size of small yachts, and borne off

to the Edinburgh warehouses slung on horseback, through the narrow

defiles of the Burgess Close.

It chances that we possess, in our General Register House, a very

distinct memorial of the traffic carried on between Scotland and the

Netherlands at the close of the fifteenth century. It consists in the

ledger of Andrew Halyburton, a Scottish merchant conducting commission

business for his countrymen at Middleburg, and conservator of the

Scotch privileges there. It extends from the year 1493 to 1505. Andrew

acted as agent for a number of eminent persons, churchmen as well as

laymen, besides merchants, receiving and selling for a commission

the raw products of the country, chiefly those just named—wool,

hides, and salmon—and sending home in return nearly every kind of

manufactured article which we could suppose to have then been in

use. It appears that even salt was then imported. Wheel-barrows were

sent from Flanders to assist in building King’s College, Aberdeen.

There were cloths of silk, linen, and woollen; fruits, spiceries, and

drugs; plate and jewellery; four kinds of wine—claret, Gascony claret,

Rhenish, and Malvoisie. Paper is often named; and there is mention of

pestles and mortars, basins of brass, chamber-mats, beds of arras,

feather-beds, down-pillows, vermilion, red and white lead, and pins.

John of Pennycuik imports the image of Thomas-à-Becket, bought from

a painter at Antwerp. More than one tombstone is shipped to a Scotch

order from Middleburg. Once there is a ‘kist of buikis’ for a physician

at Aberdeen. The account between Halyburton and the Abbot of Holyrood

may be cited as an example of its class in this curious tome. For ‘my

lord,’ as Halyburton calls him, he sells the wool of the sheep which

ranged the Abbey’s pastures in Tweeddale, and the skins and hides of

the sheep and cattle which were slaughtered for the table at Holyrood.

He buys in return claret and other wines, apples, olives, oranges,

figs, raisins, almonds, rice, loaf-sugar, ginger, mace, pepper,

saffron, and large quantities of apothecaries’ wares. Amongst other

customers, we find Walter Chapman, the first printer in Scotland,

and John Smollett, the ancestor of the great novelist of the last

century. Halyburton appears to have often visited Edinburgh, settling

old accounts, and arranging new ventures. Each account has the name of

‘JHESUS’ piously superscribed; and where the customer was a trader,

the merchant’s _mark_, which was cut upon his boxes or inscribed upon

his bales, is copied into the ledger. The volume is surprisingly like

a ledger of the present day, even in the particular of binding; but it

gives, on the whole, the idea of a poor and narrow range of traffic—the

traffic of a rude country, producing only raw articles, and few of

them, and dependent for all above the simplest which it consumed, upon

foreign states.[1]

About the time referred to in this volume, the central line of street

between the West Bow and Nether Bow was the chief place of merchandise

in Edinburgh, the Cowgate and Canongate being more specially the

residence of the nobility, gentry, and great ecclesiastics. There

were two chief classes of goods dealt in, each mainly confined to a

particular section of the street. What was called _Inland Merchandise_,

or _Inland’sh Goods_—namely, yarn, stockings, coarse cloth, and other

such articles made at home—were, by a charter of 1477, ordained to be

sold in the upper part of the street, then without a special name,

but which is subsequently referred to as the _Land-market_—apparently

an abbreviation of _Inland Market_, from the description of goods

sold in it. Down to recent times, such goods continued to be chiefly

sold there, by people occupying _laigh shops_, and on a certain day

exposing their wares by ancient privilege on the open street. The

remainder of the High Street was chiefly devoted to a superior class

of traders, calling themselves _Merchants_, dealers in imported wares

of various kinds, and each occupying a booth or shop, besides whatever

other warehouses in more retired situations. Wholesale and retail

dealers alike passed under this name, as is still, indeed, the case to

a considerable extent in Scotland, where it has always been remarked

that there was a peculiar liberality or courtesy in the distribution of

names and titles. We frequently hear in the journalists and chroniclers

of the old time, of the _Merchants Buithes_, or shops. The only other

kind of shops in those days was the kind called _krames_, generally

very small, made out of mere angles of property, or insinuated between

the buttresses of St Giles’s Kirk, and chiefly devoted to the sale of

toys and other petty articles. We often hear of _krames_, of _kramers_

(that is, krame-keepers), and _kramery_ (that is, small wares sold

in krames) in the familiar histories of that age, and in old titles.

Dunbar, the early Scottish poet, describes these shops very aptly as

‘Hampered in ane honey-kaim,’

close to St Giles’s Church. Fixing our attention, meanwhile, on the

class of traders called merchants, we find that their booths were in

general small places, situated behind the open arcade which then ran

along the greater part of the High Street on both sides. The whole

front of one of these booths, consisting of folding boards, was opened

by day—one board being drawn up, another let down, one or more folded

back sideways, so as to display the interior to the passer-by. On a

bench or counter within the front-wall, goods were laid out to attract

attention; in some instances, there were also stands set out for the

display of wares under the shelter of the arcade in front. As the

merchant sat in his open booth, there were sights presented to him

different from what he would now see: amongst others, rival nobles

meeting on the causey, with their respective bands of armed followers,

and fighting out their quarrels with sword and buckler, and the more

deadly hagbut, to quell which our traders were enjoined by civic

statute of 1529, to keep each in his booth ‘ane axe, or twa, or three,

after as they have servants,’ and to be ready to use them. If we are

to believe Dunbar, he saw ‘the gait’ filthy, and full of clamorous

beggars, milk, shell-fish, and puddings sold at the Cross and the Tron,

and vile crafts everywhere more prominent than his own respectable

merchandise. In the town of Berne, in Switzerland, you can see

precisely the same structural arrangements still existing along both

sides of the principal street, which further reminds one of ancient

Edinburgh by its name of _Kramgasse_.

At length, in the progress of improvement, there were some shops

formed in a certain part of the High Street, having those open arcaded

spaces in front closed up, leaving only a window and a door; and

these places of business, by way of distinction, acquired the name of

_luckenbooths_—that is, closed booths, a term, as you are all aware,

which still gives a name to the portion of street referred to. Berne

is now in exactly the same circumstances in this respect as Edinburgh

was two hundred years ago, for there also we find a few shops of more

ambitious character than their neighbours, with the fronts built up. It

is very interesting thus to trace in continental towns of the present

day a reflex of things long ago prevalent in our own city. I was

amused, at Nuremberg, to find the Frauenkirke barnacled all round with

little shops or _krames_, as I remember St Giles’s to have been, each

petty shop, moreover, having its miniature house above, in one or more

stories, affording a stifling accommodation to the traders, as was the

case with several of the krame-shops of the old Parliament Close.

In Germany and Scandinavia, we still find traders who, while conducting

a considerable wholesale business, and even a little banking, have

also retail shops, generally placed towards the public street, and

conducted by subalterns. I found such men in Iceland attending the

parties given in the governor’s house, and evidently enjoying the

local consideration due to their wealth and education. In Edinburgh,

in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, there were traffickers

of this kind, some planted in the great thoroughfares, and some

in more retired situations. They were, in some instances, men with

pretensions to pedigree—men who took a prominent part in public

affairs, entertained princes and sovereigns, founded families, and

so forth. Thus, a Hamilton of the house of Innerwick, was what was

called a _merchant_ in the West Bow; he acquired lands—he fell as a

gallant gentleman in Pinkie field; his eldest son was the ancestor of

the Earls of Haddington; his second son, a secular priest, was rector

of the University of Paris, and one of the council of the League who

offered the French crown to the king of Spain in 1591. Contemporary

with him, occupying a shop in the middle row of buildings alongside

of St Giles’s Church, was a similar merchant, named Edward Hope; his

father is believed to have been a Frenchman who came to Scotland in the

train of the Princess Magdalen, daughter of Francis I., when she was

wedded to James V. in 1537. While externally but a shopkeeper in the

Luckenbooths, there can be no doubt that Edward Hope carried on foreign

trade upon a considerable scale, and was a man of large means; of which

last fact, his extensive mansion in Tod’s Close, Castlehill, stood a

few years ago as good evidence. This worthy merchant was commissioner

for Edinburgh in the parliament which settled the Reformation, and he

afterwards, for Protestantism’s sake, bore the brunt of the Lady Mary’s

gentle wrath. Through his elder son he was the ancestor of all the

Hopes who have since stood so conspicuous in rank, in wealth, and in

public service in Scotland; while from his younger son are descended

the famous mercantile family of the Hopes of Amsterdam. In the latter

part of the sixteenth century—that is, in the reigns of Mary and James

VI.—notwithstanding the constant civil broils, and the false maxims by

which commerce was to appearance protected or favoured, but in reality

depressed—there appear to have been some considerable merchants in

Edinburgh, and merchants really entitled to the name, being conductors

of foreign traffic and dealers in wholesale. They generally had their

establishments in some comparatively retired situation, in a close or

_wynd_, near the centre of the city. In Riddell’s Close, Lawnmarket,

there still exist the mansion and business premises of one of these

considerable merchants, namely, Bailie John Macmoran. We are told by

the church historian, Calderwood, that he was the greatest merchant

of his day in Edinburgh, but disliked by the clergy, because of his

carrying victual to Spain, thus endangering the souls of the Scottish

mariners by contact with popery. His house is a good and not inelegant

building forming a court, the entrance to which still exhibits the

hooks for the massive gates by which it could be closed up at night

and in times of danger. A stone projection over a window indicates

an arrangement for pulleying up goods into an upper chamber. A large

room or hall in which the queen’s brother, the Duke of Holstein, was

entertained ‘with great solemnity and merriness’ in 1597, shews the

wealthy state in which this merchant lived. John, who had been a

servitor or dependent of the Regent Morton, whose treasures he assisted

to conceal, was cut off in the middle of his prosperous career, by a

pistol bullet fired at him by a High School boy, while he was exerting

his authority as a magistrate in suppressing a barring-out.

Near to Macmoran’s house, in what was latterly called the Old

Bank Close, there stood till our own time the not less handsome

establishment of a merchant named Robert Gourlay, bearing the date

1569. This was a large and, in some respects, elegant building, such

as could not be constructed in our day for less than two thousand five

hundred pounds. It had a ground-floor directly accessible from the

close, and which we may presume to have been a store for unbroken bales

and packages; then a first floor, which was probably the warehouse for

wholesale and retail traffic—this had a stair-entrance for itself;

next there was a second floor, accessible by its own stair likewise,

and from which there was an inner stair enclosed in a hanging turret,

giving access to two upper floors; these last three floors constituting

the accommodation of the merchant’s family. We find that Gourlay, who

had originally been a dependent of the Duke of Chastelherault, carried

on a large business in the exporting of corn, doubtless importing in

return the many various articles which he distributed from his first

floor. It is to be feared that he and some of his contemporaries

occasionally were indebted for large profits to favour purchased from

the bad and ignorant governments of their day. At least, we find that

Robert, in 1574, bought a licence from the Regent Morton, enabling

him to export grain, while, owing to a dearth, this power was denied

to all others. The kirk, which he served as an elder, challenged him

for this inhumane traffic, and he for some time stood out under the

Regent’s protection, but was at last obliged to succumb, and make

public confession of his offence, standing in the _marriage-place_

in St Giles’s, clad in a gown made on purpose, and which he had to

bestow thereafter on the poor. Robert lived to accommodate his friend

the Regent, in his house, for two or three days, when the latter was

awaiting the stroke of the Maiden under a hired guard; and a few years

later, when King James deemed Holyrood an unsafe residence, by reason

that the Earl of Bothwell was scouring about in quest of him, he had

up-putting for several days in the house of the rich merchant, Robert

Gourlay.

I may enumerate a few other considerable merchants of this period,

all of whom had good houses in the city, where they dwelt as well

as carried on business. In what was latterly called Brodie’s Close,

between Macmoran’s and Gourlay’s houses, lived William Little of

Over-Libberton, at one time provost, and the ancestor of the family now

represented by Mr Little Gilmour of the Inch. It connects merchandise

in an interesting manner with professional and literary things, that

Clement, the brother of William, was the commissary of Edinburgh, and

one of the greatest benefactors to the infant university. Provost

Little’s house, dated 1570, was taken down so lately as 1836, having

continued all the time an entailed property of the family. The

_North British Advertiser_ printing-office now stands on its site.

Nicol Udwart, an active and wealthy merchant, had a stately house

surrounding a square court in Niddry’s Wynd; and there King James was

living in February 1591, when the Bonny Earl of Moray was slaughtered

at Dunnibrissle. A neighbour of Udwart, styled Alexander Clark of

Balbirnie, also a wealthy merchant, and at one time provost of the

city, gave accommodation at the same time to the Chancellor Maitland.

On another occasion, a little earlier, we hear of King James living

with William Fowler, who was also a merchant in Edinburgh. The king, it

is stated, went out to hunt, promising to return to dinner in Fowler’s

house at _one o’clock_. Fowler lived in the Anchor Close, and his

house, in which, as we see, he had entertained royalty, was taken down

only three months ago by the Railway Access Company. It stood, indeed,

in a narrow alley; but it had the advantage of a free aspect over the

country to the north of the city. In the index to the state-papers

connected with Scotland, lately published by Mr Thorpe, William Fowler

figures as a partisan of the English protestant interest, continually

engaged in giving information to Sir Francis Walsingham.

The trades of Edinburgh in those days were generally conducted by men

of small account; but there was one art carried on upon a scale which

raised its practitioners to the grade of merchants. This was the craft

of the goldsmiths. The habits of the upper classes, partaking so much

of an ill-supported ostentation, made this comparatively a great trade.

We have all heard much of George Heriot, who was made goldsmith to the

queen in 1597, and who, afterwards transplanting himself to London,

there completed the fortune which became the means of founding his

celebrated hospital. But there was a contemporary Edinburgh goldsmith

of even greater importance, in the person of Thomas Foulis, who seems

to have been to King James what the Bank of England was to William

Pitt two hundred years later. It was a loan from Thomas which enabled

the king to march against the rebellious Catholic lords at Aberdeen

in 1593. He stood creditor to the king, in the ensuing year, for the

sum of £14,598 Scots, and for this James lodged with him two gold

drinking-cups, amounting in all to the weight of fifteen pounds five

ounces. In May 1601, the royal debt to Thomas amounted to the enormous

sum of £180,000 Scots, and a parliamentary arrangement had to be made

for its payment. One of the benefits which Thomas Foulis derived from

being the king’s creditor to so large an amount, was a grant of the

lead-mines of Lanarkshire, which he worked with good result, and handed

ultimately to his granddaughter, who married James Hope, the ancestor

of the noble family of Hopetoun. Thus, it will be observed, what

constituted, and yet in part constitutes, the fortune of the Earls of

Hopetoun, came originally from one of our Parliament Close goldsmiths.

The relation of the last resident king of Scots to his mercantile

subjects in Edinburgh was generally a good-humoured one; but there was

one occasion when serious strife stood between them, though for a short

time only. Under some misapprehension about his intentions regarding

the clergy, a mob beset his majesty for an hour or two in the place of

judgment in the Tolbooth. He was, or affected to be, very wroth with

the people of Edinburgh, and returning on Hogmanay day, a fortnight

after the riot, he ordered that the ports and streets should be kept

for his protection by certain Border chiefs on whom he could depend.

A rumour arose that _Kinmont Willie_ and other border thieves were

come to _spulyie_ the town, and immediately there was such a scene as

no Edinburgh merchant then living could ever forget. The principal

men took the goods out of their booths, and transported them to the

strongest house in the town—possibly Macmoran’s—posting themselves and

servants there also, all fully armed, in apprehension of an immediate

attack. In like manner, groups of the craftsmen and commoner sort of

people gathered into strong houses, with their best goods, and with

arms in their hands to defend their property to the last extremity.

An Edinburgh citizen, John Birrel, chronicles this affair, with the

remark—‘Judge, gentle reader, gif this be play.’ After all, the guard

of borderers did our merchants and craftsmen no harm; but when one

reads of such an alarm, it becomes easy to understand how Macmoran

and Gourlay had such strong houses for conducting their business, and

how all the closes in the High Street should have had gates at top and

bottom, as still appears in many cases by the remaining hooks for the

hinges.

When we pass on to the early part of the seventeenth century, we still

find merchants of considerable importance in Edinburgh. They usually

are either the descendants or the progenitors of good families. As

an example of the former, we may take James Murray, of whose living

locality in our city I can say nothing, but who, at his death in old

age in 1649, was laid in the Greyfriars’ Churchyard. James was a

younger son of Patrick Murray of Philiphaugh, and to each of his three

sons, by Bethia Maule of the Panmure family, he left an estate. Perhaps

I could in no way better describe him than by the quaint words of his

epitaph in the Greyfriars:

Stay, passenger, and shed a tear,

For good James Murray lieth here;

He was of Philiphaugh descended,

And for his merchandise commended;

He was a man of a good life,

Married Bethia Maule to ’s wife;

He may thank God that e’er he gat her;

She bore him three sons and a daughter;

The first he was a man of might,

For which the king made him a knight;

The second was both wise and wily,

For which the town made him a bailie;

The third, a factor of renown,

Both in Campvere and in this town.

His daughter was both grave and wise,

And married was to James Elies.

Another of this class was John Trotter, son of Thomas Trotter of

Catchelraw. He acquired by merchandise in Edinburgh the means of

purchasing the estate of Mortonhall, and thus laid the foundation of

a family which still exists in great note and opulence. A third was

John Sinclair, a cadet of the old house of Longformacus. Being bred a

merchant, as Douglas’s _Baronage_ explicitly declares, he realised so

much wealth by his business as to be able, in 1624, to purchase the

estate of Stevenston in Haddingtonshire, to which he afterwards added

other lands, forming in whole a large estate. The king conferred on him

a Nova Scotia baronetcy, which is still enjoyed by his descendants.

We have a fourth instance in George Blair, a second son of Patrick

Blair of Pittendreich. The wealth which this gentleman acquired by

merchandise in Edinburgh, was the means of purchasing the estate of

Lethendy in Perthshire, to which his son added that of Glasclune.

Another may still be added, in James Riddell, of the ancient family

of Riddell of that Ilk. This gentleman, after pursuing a business

career for some time in Poland, where many Scotch youths then found

occupation, returned to Edinburgh about the year 1603, set up business

there, married a lady of means styled Bessie Allan, and died a wealthy

man. His son, who became a merchant in Leith, purchased the estate of

Kinglass, which he left to a line of descendants. I cannot but view

with interest the good sense of our gentry of two and three hundred

years ago, in setting their younger sons to a career of useful and

honourable industry, instead of allowing them idly to loiter at home,

or go into the little better than idleness of a foreign military

service. It was evidently considered no discredit in those days for a

gentleman’s son to become a merchant in Edinburgh.

In the age which we now have under our notice, the proceedings of

mercantile men were impeded and thwarted, to a degree of which we can

scarcely form an idea, by false political economy. For a merchant

to reserve grain during a scarcity—thus, in the view of Adam Smith,

serving a good public end by equalising consumption over the distressed

period—was then an impious crime condemned by whole legions of laws.

To export almost any article that could be consumed at home was

generally discountenanced, as tending to raise prices upon the home

consumer. Importing foreign articles was looked upon at the best as a

lamentable necessity, because it caused money to be sent out of the

country. We have, for instance, in 1615, a fulmination from the Privy

Council against a ‘most unlawful and pernicious tred of exporting eggs

furth of the kingdom,’ and in 1625, a not less furious denunciation

of the ‘mischeant and wicked tred’ of exporting tallow. In 1634, a

man wanting some Norway timber to build houses at Seaton, required to

use influence with the government to be allowed to send some of his

own East Lothian wheat for it to Bergen. An unenlightened selfishness

put a dead-lock upon nearly everything that an enlightened view of

the interests of all would have counselled to be done. In these

circumstances, to succeed in foreign trade must have required no small

amount of skill and policy, as well as means, because in addition to

all the natural difficulties, there were bad laws to be evaded or

overcome, or privileges and exemptions to be purchased from corrupt

statesmen. There were also in those days sumptuary laws for preventing

the people from injuring themselves by too expensive habits. They are

understood to have not been very effectual for their avowed purpose;

but they now serve a good end in revealing to us the nature of the

business of the mercer in the times to which they refer. We find, for

example, in 1581, when the country was but a few years emerged from

a calamitous civil war, that even people of what was called ‘mean

estate’ were addicted to ‘the wearing of costly cleithing, of silks

of all sorts, laine, cambric, fringes, and passments of gold, silver,

and silk, and woollen claith, made and brocht from foreign countries.’

Hence, it was stated, the prices of these articles had grown to such a

height ‘as is not longer able to be sustained without the great skaith

and inconvenience of the commonweal’—that is to say, gentles were of

opinion that they would get such articles much cheaper, if there were

no other customers for them. The general inclination for foreign finery

was held all the more indefensible, seeing that ‘God has granted to

this realm sufficient commodities for claithing of the inhabitants

thereof within the self, gif the people were vertuously employed in

working of the same at hame.’ Another such act in 1621 ordained that no

persons but those of the nobility, and others possessing six thousand

merks of free yearly rent, should wear ‘any clothing of gold or silver

cloth, or any gold or silver lace upon their apparel;’ neither should

they use ‘velvet, sattin, or other stuffs of silk.’ Even those who

were privileged by wealth to wear these articles, were forbidden to

have embroidery, lace, or passments upon their clothes, ‘except only a

plain welting lace of silk upon the seams or borders.’ They were also

to observe that ‘the said apparel of silk be no ways cut out upon other

stuffs of silk, except upon a single taffeta.’ By the same act, it was

enjoined that no person of whatsoever degree, except those privileged

as above, should have ‘pearling or ribboning upon their ruffs, sarks,

napkins, and socks;’ and any pearling or ribboning so worn was to be

‘of those made within the kingdom of Scotland,’ under a high penalty.

So, also, castor-hats, feathers for the head, and gold chains with

pearls or stones, were forbidden for all except the privileged classes;

and servants were restricted to home-made fustian, canvas, and other

stuffs, and husbandmen to the common gray, blue, and _self-black_ cloth

of the country. By _self-black_ I presume is meant cloth made of the

wool of black sheep in its natural state. These plain and homely kinds

of cloth were woven by the village websters out of yarn which the

housewives and their maidens had spun by the winter fireside when there

was no more pressing work to do. Such cloths, so made, continued in

use amongst simple rustic people down to the close of the last century,

and partially even a little later. I believe they have now entirely

disappeared.

Notwithstanding all impediments from bad and simply officious

legislation, we can see that the first third of the seventeenth century

was a time of mercantile prosperity and progress in Scotland generally,

and in Edinburgh in particular. The country was at peace; the laws

were tolerably well executed; and as yet the religious troubles of the

century had not begun. There was a general disposition, encouraged by

the king, to see the useful arts cultivated in our country; and several

were actually now established for the first time. For example, it

was now that leather was first made of good quality in Scotland, the

improved art being introduced by workmen from England. The manufacture

of glass was set up in 1610 at Wemyss in Fife, by the ancestor of the

Earls of Kinnoul, and met with tolerable success. Paper and a superior

kind of cloth were attempted, but unsuccessfully. A great grudge being

entertained regarding the large sums annually sent to Flanders for

soap, there was much interest excited by an effort made at Leith,

in 1619, to manufacture that useful article. The enterpriser was Mr

Nathaniel Udwart, son of the Nicol Udwart who had entertained King

James in his house in Niddry’s Wynd. As an encouragement, he asked a

privilege excluding the foreign article for a number of years, and

the Privy Council took much pains to ascertain if this could be done

without prejudice to the public. Pages after pages of their records

are filled with deliberations on the subject, marginally marked with

the words, ‘Anent the Sape,’ or ‘Mr Nathaniel his sape;’ and finally,

he obtained the desired privilege under certain conditions. In this

matter, however, flesh and blood could not endure the false political

economy. Mr Nathaniel’s soap was pronounced to be of unsatisfactory

quality; and it was shewn to be better for the people in such distant

provinces as Dumfries, to import their soap from Flanders, than to

transport it from Leith by land-carriage. The native soap-factory

appears, therefore, to have had a considerable struggle at first.

Afterwards, it was more successfully carried on, along with the making

of potasses, by Patrick Maule, the ancestor of the Lords Panmure; for

here is another of our wealthy noble families who were beholden to

trade for some part of their fortunes. We really must not be too hard

upon our ancestors for the false commercial maxims by which they made

their own interests so much of a difficulty to themselves, for we ought

to remember how recently we have shaken off some of these very maxims,

and how greatly foreign nations yet suffer from them. I daresay you

will all hear, with something like a smile, that the proceedings of

King James in 1598, regarding the poultrymen of Edinburgh, who tried to

evade an edict for maximum prices, by selling their poultry in secret

to people who would give better prices, were precisely imitated by the

present Emperor of France in 1856, with respect to the butchers of

Paris.

And in what, it will be asked, did the external commerce of Scotland

at this time consist? First, then, was the exporting of wool, woollen

and linen yarn, hides, tallow, butter, oil, and barrelled flesh,

salmon, and herrings, also plaiden stuff and stockings, to the Low

Countries. This was a trade exclusively confined by strict regulation

to the port of Campvere, where, for many years past, there had been

established a corporation of Scottish merchants, under a chief called

the _Conservator_. It was a body entirely independent of the local

authorities, as well of their High Mightinesses of the Netherlands;

for the Conservator, with a council of six, or at least four, was

entitled to adjudge in every case connected with Scottish merchants

or merchandise. The Scottish merchants had a street and a quay to

themselves, and a minister of their own choice, to whom the native

mayor paid a salary of nine hundred guilders per annum. Second, there

was a considerable trade with Poland, the goods being introduced by

Scottish merchants residing at Dantzig, while the country itself was

said to swarm with pedlers of our nation, by whom, I presume, the

merchandise was diffused. Our townsman, Mr W. F. Skene, tells me that

he lately found at Dantzig abundant records of the Scotch merchandise

formerly carried on there. The imports were wool and coarse cloths;

the exports, corn, tar, and wine—whence the latter was brought to

Dantzig does not appear, but it might be from some countries far to

the south, for through the Vistula there were communications between

this Hanseatic town and districts far removed in that direction. Next,

we must advert to a constant import of wine from France, probably for

the most part in exchange for salmon and herrings. Finally, Scotland

kept a considerable quantity of shipping in the employment of France,

Spain, and even Italy and Barbary. The zealous clergy, in 1592, made

an effort to stop this and every other kind of intercourse of their

countrymen with Spain, from an apprehension, already adverted to,

that they might thus be drawn back to Romanism; but here feelings of

mercantile interest were too much for even clerical zeal, and the

attempt failed miserably. The trade with France was threatened in a

more serious manner in 1615, when, in consequence of an edict against

the importation of goods into England in other than English vessels,

the French king ordered that no goods should be imported from Britain

into France in other than French vessels. A Scotch bark then lading

at a French port was actually stopped, and ordered to go away empty.

It was a most serious affair for Scotland; but the national ingenuity

prevailed. France was reminded of the ancient alliance of King Alpin

of Scotland with Charlemagne—a fable, but as good as a truth, since it

was universally believed—also of the more palpable fact that Scotland,

as apart from England, had issued no edict against French vessels. The

rule was therefore relaxed in favour of Scottish ships. One of the

standing troubles of this Scotch trade lay in the piratical habits of

Algiers. Every now and then a piteous tale came home to Edinburgh of

some little vessel, belonging to Dundee, or Leith, or Borrowstounness,

caught by these rovers, and the crew all lying chained in dungeons,

on the coast of Africa, fed with only bread and water. And then there

would be a kindly collection of half-pence at the kirk-doors for the

unfortunates, who generally were relieved by these means, though

sometimes not till they had endured for a year or two their miserable

captivity.

When troubles began to arise in consequence of the efforts of the

kings James and Charles to introduce episcopalian arrangements and

ceremonies, there were several eminent merchants of Edinburgh who stood

conspicuously forward against these innovations. We hear much at that

time of William Rig or Ridge, of Athernie in Fife, and of John Mean,

both merchants in Edinburgh, very pious men, who, with John Hamilton,

an apothecary, were banished to distant towns because they would not

agree to accept the communion kneeling. Rig was both rich and liberal,

insomuch that he is stated to have been in the custom of distributing

annually upwards of eight thousand merks (equal to £444 sterling)

for pious and charitable purposes. John Mean, whose wife is believed

to have been the person who threw the stool at the bishop’s head in

St Giles’s, at the reading of the famous _Service-book_, was at one

time post-master of Edinburgh, that important institution having been

set up in 1635: the revenue, in his time, was about four hundred a

year. Another, and still more remarkable Edinburgh merchant, noted

as a friend of the Presbyterian cause, was William Dick, ancestor of

our neighbour Sir William Cunningham Dick of Prestonfield. Coming of

Orkney people, one of his first adventures was the farming of the

crown-rents of that district at three thousand pounds sterling. He

established an active trade with the Baltic and the Mediterranean,

and made a profitable business of negotiating bills of exchange with

Holland. He had ships on every sea, and could ride on his own lands

from North Berwick to near Linlithgow. His wealth, centering in a

warehouse in the Luckenbooths, on the site of that now occupied by John

Clapperton & Co., is estimated to have finally reached the astonishing

sum of two hundred thousand pounds sterling; though I must own to some

incredulity on the subject. That it was, however, very great, fully

appears from the effects of it which appear in history. Sir William,

having been induced to accept the provostship of the city in the year

1638, was easily led by his own religious prepossessions to become a

sort of voluntary exchequer for the friends of the national covenant,

then mustering a resistance to the Service-book and the bishops.

King Charles could not have been faced at Dunse Law but for William

Dick’s cornucopia of dollars. From the same fund came the expenses for

the king’s visit to Edinburgh in 1641. When the Scottish parliament

in the same year mustered ten thousand men to go to Ireland and

suppress the rebel Catholics, the little army could not have marched

without the meal which Sir William Dick furnished. His national loans

afterwards extended to transactions in which the credit of the English

parliament was concerned; and here ruin overtook him. The time came

when such loans were not recognised, or at least met with but slight

reverence; and this Scottish Crœsus—a national creditor to the extent

of sixty-four thousand pounds—actually spent his last days in a jail at

Westminster, under something like a want of the common necessaries of

life.

While it appears that so many noted merchants stood up for the popular

cause, that of royalty was espoused by at least one eminent trader,

namely, Sir William Gray of Pittendrum, a cadet of the noble house

of Gray, and direct ancestor of the present lord. Sir William, whose

house, with his arms and initials, and the date 1622, may still be seen

in Lady Stair’s Close, Lawnmarket, is said to have conducted foreign

trade upon a large scale, considering the times, and he became, for his

age, extremely rich. For corresponding with the Marquis of Montrose, a

fine of a hundred thousand merks was imposed upon him, and he actually

paid thirty-five thousand, being nearly two thousand pounds sterling.

When one of his sons married the Mistress of Gray, Sir William gave

him the handsome endowment of 232,000 merks. Sir William Dick and Sir

William Gray are perhaps the first commercial men of our city who

reached the character of merchant-princes.

A little later than these men was James Stuart, a historical personage

of even greater celebrity, and the more worthy of note on the present

occasion, in as far as he made a movement to the formation of a

Merchants’ Company in Edinburgh so early as 1658. Born of the family

of the Stuarts of Allanton in Lanarkshire, he was brought up in a

merchant’s shop in Edinburgh, and in due time became a flourishing

merchant himself. His importance in this capacity, his active talents

and address, made him a conspicuous actor on the popular side in

the affairs of Scotland during the years of the civil war. Family

tradition represents him as the person who brought to the Covenanters

in Edinburgh that doubtful promise of sympathy and assistance from

the English patriots, which is adverted to in all the histories of

the period. It is stated that he was in London on business, when Lord

Saville, hearing of him as a leading citizen of Edinburgh, and a man of

talent and spirit, already noted amongst those who were contemplating a

resistance to the king, sent for him, and after some conversation, bade

him be of good cheer, for his countrymen would not be left to fight the

battle single-handed. Whatever truth there is in this, James Stuart

afterwards became a most distinguished public person. He was provost of

Edinburgh in the trying time when it was invested, and at length taken

possession of, by the troops of Cromwell. He survived the Restoration,

and was a sufferer under Charles II.’s rule, but nevertheless left

considerable realised wealth to his descendants, the Stuarts baronets

of Coltness. His son was lord advocate under King William and Queen

Anne; and the grandson of that personage wrote the first systematic

work on political economy which appeared in this country.

The unsuccessful efforts made by Scotland first to extend presbytery

into England under the Solemn League and Covenant, and next to save

the old monarchy from the English sectaries and republicans, left it

exhausted and bleeding under the heel of Cromwell. We should vainly,

amidst our present peace and comfort, attempt to form an idea of the

utter bankruptcy of our country during the eight or nine years when it

was kept down by eight thousand English soldiers, whom it was obliged

to pay by a monthly cess for their oppression. Glasgow had then but

twelve vessels, mostly under a hundred tons each; the customs of Leith,

which have in our times touched six hundred thousand pounds, were then

only £2335. We wade through year after year of the domestic annals

of the country at this time, and hear of not one prosperous merchant,

not one attempt at an enlarged system of industry, no new invention

or project, nor even of the continuation of any of those manufactures

which had been introduced during the two preceding reigns. Religious

and political controversy, working itself out in violence fatal to all

real progress, had blighted the whole pith and capacity of the country.

After the Restoration, things were for a long time not much better,

for still unfortunately the bitterness of religious conflict was kept

up. A Royal Fishery Company, with a capital of £25,000 sterling, was

started, as a rival to the Dutch; but it did not prosper greatly. It

had various privileges; and we rather hear of these proving a detriment

to private enterprise, than of any distinct good done by the company

itself. Amongst the most notable uses for shipping in the reign of

the restored Stuart, were some of a melancholy character—privateering

against the Dutch during the two shameful wars carried on against

Holland, and the transporting of poor people to Barbadoes, and of

discontented west-country Presbyterians to the American colonies. The

former kind of work is said to have enriched two merchants named Baird,

whose descendants have since figured among the Scottish gentry. But all

such work was of small advantage to the country at large, as everything

is, indeed, except that which gives real labour and its products. Here

and there was a speculator like Sir Robert Mylne of Barnton, who made

a little fortune by farming the entire national revenue at ninety

thousand pounds, and ultimately lost it again, as he well might in

that age without any necessary connection of the event with the fact

of his having handed the Covenant to the hangman when it was publicly

burnt after the Restoration. In this age, too, there was at least one

able and successful merchant in our city, namely, Sir James Dick of

Prestonfield, a grandson of the Rothschild of the Covenant. In him

the fortunes of the family were in some measure restored. As provost

of Edinburgh, he acquired the friendship of the Duke of York, when

he lived at Holyrood, and used to be consulted by him about means of

promoting the prosperity of the country. George Watson, the founder

of our hospital, was originally head-clerk or accountant to Dick, at

a salary of £16, 13s. 4d. Rather unexpectedly, I am informed that

a branch of Sir James’s business has continued to be kept up, and

after some changes of situation, now appears under the firm of Craig

Brothers, in the South Bridge. There was, however, in this reign,

little more than a blind groping towards mercantile enterprise. The

contemplation of English prosperity had created a spirit of emulation.

Men of enlarged minds were sadly sensible of the national poverty.

There was a general sense of uneasiness under the knowledge that

perhaps as much as _twenty thousand a year_ went out of this poor

country into fat and comfortable England, to buy superfine cloth and

other fineries for the upper classes. England, too, it was observed,

had those colonies on the other side of the Atlantic, not one of whom

could buy a hat, or a coat, or a sheet of glass, from anybody but an

Englishman, while Scotland had no such outlets for manufactures, even

if the manufactures existed. There was, it appears, in Scotland, the

shrewd head and the willing hand; but how to start, how to get capital,

skill, and experience—how, in short, to realise the ambitious views she

was beginning to cherish!

Restricted as merchandise was in the reign of King William, we then

find a general acknowledgment of the importance of the mercantile

class in Edinburgh, in the practice of receiving the Lord Provost of

the city as a member of the Privy Council, which was substantially

the government of the country. These provosts, too, were generally

knighted. Amongst them we find Sir John Hall, ancestor of the baronets

of Dunglass, and of the late ingenious writer, Captain Basil Hall. Sir

William Binning and Sir Thomas Kennedy, who had been provosts in the

late Stuart reigns, continued in that of King William to be engaged

in large undertakings, such as government contracts and farmings

of customs. So, also, was an eminent member of our Company, Bailie

Alexander Brand, who finally acquired the honour of knighthood. We

find Brand, for instance, along with Binning and Kennedy, engaging to

import five thousand stand of arms for the state, at one pound sterling

each, and getting into trouble from making public in a law-court that

he contemplated a _donative_ of two hundred and fifty guineas, with

other articles, to some of the principal state-officers with whom the

bargain had been made. A certain Sir Robert Dickson, who, with Binning

and Kennedy, farmed the customs and foreign excise for five years from

1693, at twenty thousand three hundred pounds a year, got into a worse

scrape still with the state-officers; for, in squaring accounts, he

found upwards of two thousand pounds unexpectedly on the debit side,

for wines given as gratuities to those nobles, and, seeking the king’s

protection from this oppression, he found himself liable to a charge,

under an old statute, against murmuring at judges, and was glad to

buy himself off by craving pardon on his knees. The gratuities, in

the latter case, were declared to be according to use and wont; if

so, it seems hard that Brand should have been harassed for announcing

a compliance with the custom in the other case; but, of course,

_quietness_ is everything in these matters.

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