commerce first found effectual gratification. A company, headed by
John Holland, a London merchant, started in 1695 the Bank of Scotland,
the first institution of the kind in the country. Its paid-up capital
was at first no more than ten thousand pounds. It tried branches at
Aberdeen, Dundee, and Glasgow; but they did not succeed, or were
not found to be wanted, and the money was all brought home again on
horses’ backs. Under the prompting and guidance of an ingenious native,
William Paterson, the African Company was formed in the ensuing year,
with about a quarter of a million of paid-up capital, and the design
of planting a great entrepôt for the commerce of the world on the
Isthmus of Darien. As is well known, this company, through English
jealousy, proved a disastrous failure. It was a sore blow for a poor
country to suffer at the very opening of a mercantile career, and it
was long before our people forgot it, or overcame its effects. When the
Union, however, happily settled that English exclusivism was no longer
exclusive for Scotland—when Scotland was so far allowed to have that
fair-play for her industry which we are now seeking to establish as the
right of all, as it is for the good of all—then did her enterprise find
safer channels and a more fitting reward. Owing, indeed, to the lack of
capital and other causes, the progress was for a long time rather slow,
and especially on our side of the island. As a proof of this, take the
contrast between the shipping of Leith in 1692—twenty-nine vessels
of an average of fifty-nine tons (the value £7100)—and that of 1740,
when it exhibited forty-seven vessels of an average of only fifty-six
tons, and not one above 180. The increase of the next twelve years to
sixty-eight vessels, of an average of 102 tons—several being as high
as 300, and one of 350 tons—shews a great acceleration of progress
after the first difficulties were got over. In 1844, there belonged to
Leith 210 vessels of an aggregate of 25,427 tons, or an average of 121
tons. On the west side of the island, owing to the development of the
American colonies, the progress was greater; and yet it was not till
eleven years after the Union that Glasgow sent her first ship across
the Atlantic. The smallness of all mercantile matters there at first is
most remarkable. It is alleged that four young men, with ten thousand
pounds amongst them, commenced the mercantile glory of our western
capital. And one cannot without a smile read, in the diary of serious
Mr Wodrow, under 1709, of Glasgow losing no less than ten thousand
pounds by the capture of a fleet going to Holland. ‘I am sure,’ he
says, ‘the Lord is remarkably frowning upon our trade in more respects
than one, since it was put in place of our religion, in the late
alteration of our constitution.’ Leaving these more general matters,
I must devote the remainder of my brief space to the history of the
Merchant Company of Edinburgh.
It was amidst some of the most distressing things in our national
history—hangings of the poor ‘hill-folk’ in the Grassmarket, trying
of the patriot Argyle for taking the test with an explanation, and
so forth—that this Company came into being. Its nativity was further
heralded by sundry other things of a troublous kind, more immediately
affecting merchandise and its practitioners.
The superior woollen cloth which was woven in England so early as the
reign of Henry VIII., made its way into Scotland before the end of
the sixteenth century; but it was very grudgingly looked upon by our
native economists. The ‘hame-bringing of English claith’ was denounced
in an act of 1597 as an unprofitable trade, ‘the same claith having
only for the maist part an outward show, wanting that substance and
strength whilk ofttimes it appears to have,’ and being, moreover, the
chief cause of the ‘transporting of all gold and silver furth of this
realm, and, consequently, of the present dearth of the cunyie.’ Soon
after this, seven Flemings were brought to Edinburgh, to instruct
the people how to make _seys_ and broadcloth at home, and to save
this pernicious outflow of coin into England; but there were many
impediments in the way. We do not hear that the seven Flemings were
ever fairly set to work. In 1620, a second attempt of the same kind was
made with four Fleming cloth-makers, in a place on the outskirts of the
city called Paul’s Work; but the days were still evil. The first really
energetic or hopeful effort at a woollen-cloth manufacture amongst us
was not made till the year 1681, when a work of that kind was set up
at Newmills, near Haddington, under the care of an Englishman named
Stanfield, and with several English workmen to instruct the natives. As
what was thought a needful encouragement to this and other enterprises
for the production of articles of attire within the country, and so
saving money from being sent out of it, an act of parliament was
passed, forbidding the importation of all kinds of cloth of wool or
lint, all silk goods, and, generally, articles of personal finery;
also the exporting of any linen or woollen yarn, or of any coarse
cloth. It was called an act for encouraging trade and manufactures;
but while it could not very readily bring manufactures into being, it
was in reality calculated to extinguish no small amount of trade. Very
amusingly, too, the act recites that these arrangements were arrived at
by the Privy Council ‘after long and serious deliberation, and advice
of the most judicious and knowing merchants of the kingdom.’ It is
scarce conceivable to us how such an act came to be passed, seeing that
it forbade the use of foreign articles before any corresponding ones
were made at home; before even the machinery for making them was set up
or existed; but the truth is, the governments of those days had much
greater dependence upon the use of force than we have—force to make
people like bishops or give up popery—force to direct what they were
to eat, and what they were to wear. And with all this dependence on
force, no means of really enforcing anything: at least, we never hear
of any such enactments in those days, but we soon after hear of their
being everywhere broken through and disregarded. For my part, I feel
at a loss to understand the drift of the government on this occasion,
for, little more than two months after a parliamentary prohibition of
foreign cloth, we find the king giving the _Company of the Merchants of
Edinburgh_ their Patent, describing them as _invectores et panni tam
rasi quam villosi_, importers of both fine and coarse cloth. Probably
it was expected that they would almost instantly cease to be so, and
remain only liable to the rest of the description given to them of
_vendors of wearing stuffs_. If so, the hope was a bootless one, for,
notwithstanding sundry burnings of the forbidden foreign stuffs on the
streets of Edinburgh, no manufacture either of fine woollen cloth,
or of silks, or fine linen, took hearty root in our country for many
years thereafter. Most likely, the act fell speedily into contempt as
impracticable.
It was on the 1st of December 1681 that eighty-two merchants of
Edinburgh, so called, but in truth specially concerned in the
business of cloth or clothing alone, met the magistrates in the High
Council-house, to hear read the royal letters-patent, erecting them
into a company or society for the promotion of commerce and sundry
other useful purposes. Each member was to pay at entry three pounds
Scots—that is, ten shillings sterling—and six shillings Scots, or
an English sixpence, yearly, while in trade, for the purpose of
constituting a fund for decayed members and their widows and children.
It will be observed that these were very moderate contributions, even
for the reign of Charles II.; but the tradition of the Company is,
that its whole scheme was at first of a humble nature. The constituent
members adopted as their symbol a _Stock of Broom_—a modest shrub, but
with a great tendency to increase. As such they regarded their society
and plan of charity; and ever since, ‘the Stock of Broom’ has been the
first toast at all the convivial meetings of the Company. I regret to
remark, that, while such laudable views and ideas prevailed amongst
our predecessors, the universal taint of exclusiveness had also an
ascendency over them. It was ruled in their very constitution, that
none who had not entered their Company should be permitted to practise
merchandise in the city. And they were entitled to poind goods which
were exposed to sale in contravention of their bye-laws.
One of the Company’s first proceedings was to ask the Dean of Edinburgh
(Very Reverend William Annand) to compose a prayer to be said by
the clerk at all their meetings. It was as follows: ‘Almighty and
eternal God, we thy servants now assembled, implore, according to
thy gracious promises, the pardon of all our offences, and thy holy
spirit to deliver us from falling into the snares of sin and Satan.
Keep us, O Lord, in peace, unity, brotherly love, and concord, by
removing pride, prejudice, passion, covetousness, and whatever may
offend thy gracious majesty. Bless our king and all the royal family,
the magistrates, and all the incorporations of this city, the Masters
and all the members of this society, that we may have fellowship with
thee. The sea is thine, and thy hands formed the dry land: prosper us
in our present undertaking with the fruits of both; above all, with
the fruits of thy holy Spirit, through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ It was
thought proper to make some requital to the dean for this service; but
it seems to have been rather long before the Stock of Broom spread
sufficiently to allow of this being done. It was not till August 1686
that the Company ordained Hugh Blair, one of their number, to furnish
the reverend gentleman with ‘six ells fine black cloth for a gown,’
for which ‘the said Hugh Blair is to have from the Company twenty
shillings sterling the ell, _if it be paid within twelve months_; but
if it happen to be any longer resting, the price is to be augmented
at the discretion of the Company conform to the time.’ On the 9th of
January 1688 the Company realised £36, 13_s._ Scots, or rather more
than three pounds sterling, by poindings of certain small quantities
of fustian, mohair, and serge, which had been exposed in the market
contrary to law; and, now believing themselves to be in a good way,
they ordered that Hugh Blair be paid for the dean’s gown out of the
first and readiest of the treasurer’s intromissions, but still to be
allowed interest till payment was actually made. We may presume that
Blair was paid not long after this, for, in the ensuing September, the
twelve pounds Scots realised from the fustian was ordered to be given
to James Tait, an indigent member of the Company. It may be remarked
that Hugh Blair was a grandson of Robert Blair, one of the Covenanting
ministers who have reached a historical fame, and he was at the same
time grandfather to his namesake the admired minister of the High Kirk,
and author of the _Sermons_ and _Lectures on Belles-Lettres_. Hugh was
Master of the Company in the year 1692. It may also be worth while
to recall that Dean Annand was the clergyman officially appointed to
attend the unfortunate Earl of Argyle on the scaffold. He was a man of
considerable learning, and, as we learn from his communications with
Argyle, a hearty opponent of popery.
One of the Company’s earliest movements of any importance was the
acquiring of a hall; but I regret to say this was not, as might be
supposed, a movement of a purely dignified nature—the great object was
to get a place of their own, in which they could deposit the goods
taken from unfreemen, it having been found hitherto, that such goods
taken to private houses were often disposed of clandestinely: in short,
the Company got little good of them. In 1691, the Master, Bailie Robert
Blackwood, intimated that there was a suitable house to be had in the
Cowgate—namely, a large lodging belonging to Viscount Oxenford, and the
price would be about twelve thousand merks, or six hundred and seventy
pounds sterling. A subscription was immediately entered into to defray
the cost, and the house was purchased. It was a large quadrangular
building, surrounding a court-yard, and had been the residence of the
celebrated lawyer of a hundred years before, who finally became the
first Earl of Haddington—popularly called, from his locality, _Tam o’
the Cowgate_. Even now, the widow of the cavalier Sir Thomas Dalyell of
Binns, and one or two other persons of quality, had lodgment in some
of its apartments. There was one large room which was to be devoted
to the purposes of a hall; but it was sadly out of order. Presently
comes forward a liberal member of the Company, Bailie Alexander Brand,
who had some time before established a manufactory of what was called
_Spanish leather_, for the ornamenting of rooms—namely, skins stamped
with gold. It was a pretty style of hangings, once in great favour
in Scotland; a few examples may still be seen in old country-houses;
one I remember in the house of Gartsherrie in Lanarkshire. The bailie
undertook to hang the hall in this manner, and only charge what was
due over and above his own contribution of a hundred and fifty pounds
Scots. Ten years afterwards, when accounts came to be settled with the
then Sir Alexander Brand—for it will be observed prompt settlements
were by no means among the commercial virtues of our predecessors—it
appeared that a hundred and nineteen skins of gold leather, with a
black ground, had been used, at a total expense of two hundred and
fifty-three pounds Scots, including the manufacturer’s contribution.
There was also much concernment about a piece of waste ground behind;
but the happy thought occurred of converting it into a bowling-green,
for the use of the members in the first place, and the public in
the second. Many years after, we find Allan Ramsay making joyous
Horatian allusions to this place of recreation, telling us that now,
in winter, douce folk were no longer seen wysing ajee the biassed
bowls on Tamson’s Green (Thomson being a subsequent tenant). It is not
unworthy of notice that, from the low state of the arts in Scotland,
the bowls required for this green had to be brought from abroad. It
is gravely reported to the Company on the 6th of March 1693, that
the bowls are ‘upon the sea homeward.’ Ten pair cost £6, 4_s._ 3_d._
Scots. It is scarcely necessary to add that the Company’s connection
with the Cowgate was dissolved long ago, and even the house has for
thirty years ceased to exist, having been taken down to make way for
George the Fourth’s Bridge. The only remaining memorial of the Company
at that spot is to be found in the name, Merchant Street, applied to a
half-extinguished line of buildings behind the Cowgate, and our title
to the ground-rents of that part of the city.
By and by, the Company became engaged in matters more amiable than
the seizing of goods of unfreemen. Wealthy members died, leaving
_mortifications_ (in the happy Scottish sense) to the Company, for the
succour of decayed brethren. It is remarkable that, on the first such
occasion, in 1693, when three thousand five hundred pounds, accruing
from a legacy left by Patrick Aikenhead, a Scotch merchant at Dantzig,
for pious uses in Edinburgh, came into possession of the Merchant
Company, they had not a decayed member requiring the benefit. Not long
after the last date, the Company became engaged in the erection of a
hospital for the nurture and education of the female children of their
less prosperous members. Though originated by a certain Mrs Hare, widow
of an Edinburgh apothecary, but a scion of the noble house of Marr, the
principal labour and expense attending this foundation fell upon the
Merchant Company of Edinburgh. Their zeal in the affair is amply shewn
in their books, where the entries of contributions for ‘_the Lasses_’
are for some years incessant. Twenty-eight years later, when George
Watson died, leaving no less than twelve thousand pounds sterling for
the benefit of children of the other sex, the Merchant Company came
to have the management of a second foundation of the same kind. I
believe its administration in both hospitals has, generally speaking,
been unexceptionable. It is, however, worthy of observation, that the
Company itself has never supplied a sufficiency of children requiring
the benefits. It has conducted these institutions to a considerable
extent on the principle of _Vos non vobis_.
It is foreign to my purpose to trace the history of Edinburgh merchants
and merchandise during the time following upon the Union, when the
national industry and enterprise, being allowed a fair field, were
producing those results of wealth and civilisation which we now see
smiling around us. I may remark, however, that the first two Georges
were inurned before the merchants of this or any other British city had
ceased in any degree to depend on prohibitions of this and that, and
exclusive rights to deal and be dealt with. The introduction of Indian
damasks, padasoys, and taffetas was, so lately as 1730, spoken of by
our Merchant Company as ‘destructive.’ In England, ‘Bury in woollen
if you have any bowels for your country,’ was a general feeling,
and, indeed, a matter of law. The late Bailie Robert Johnston once
shewed me a curious document, drawn up and extensively signed by the
Edinburgh mercers and drapers, about the year 1760, covenanting that
henceforth they would wholly cease to traffic with that generation
of men called ‘English riders.’ So long is it before an enlightened
sense of interests, even among a shrewd and tolerably well-educated
people, supersedes the first stringent emotions of human selfishness.
How different the spirit of the Merchant Company, and its offshoot
the Chamber of Commerce, has been in recent times, patronising and
promoting every liberal measure, need not be dwelt upon. Another
particular of the last century may be adverted to—namely, that there
continued to be a very great infusion among our merchants of what may
be called an aristocratic element. On this subject I am aided by the
recollections of the late venerable clerk of the Company, Mr James
Jollie, extending nearly a century back from the present time. To take
the leading firms among the silk-mercers. Of John Hope and Company,
the said John Hope was a younger son of Hope of Rankeillour in Fife.
Of Stewart and Lindsay, the former was the son of Charles Stewart of
Ballechen, and the latter a younger son of Lindsay of Wormiston. Among
the leading drapers: in the firm of Lindsay and Douglas, the former was
a younger son of Lindsay of Eaglescairney, and the latter of Douglas
of Garvaldfoot. Of Dundas, Inglis, and Callander, the first was son
to Dundas of Fingask in Stirlingshire, the family from which the Earl
of Zetland and Baron Amesbury are descended; the second was a younger
son of Sir John Inglis of Cramond, and succeeded to that baronetage,
which, it may be remarked, took its rise in an Edinburgh merchant of
the seventeenth century. Another eminent cloth-dealing firm, Hamilton
and Dalrymple, comprehended John Dalrymple, a younger brother of the
well-known Lord Hailes, and a great grandson of the first Lord Stair:
he was at one time Master of the Merchant Company. In a fourth firm,
Stewart, Wallace, and Stoddart, the leading partner was a son of
Stewart of Dunearn. The leading wine-merchants and bankers of those
days were also men of family; but this, of course, is the less worthy
of remark, as it continues in some degree to be the case at the present
day.
That so many landed families amongst us have descended from Edinburgh
merchants is no singular fact, for trade efflorescing into nobility
is an old phenomenon in the south. There we have a Duke of Leeds
descended from the apprentice of Sir William Hewit the goldsmith;
the Wentworth Fitzwilliams, from a worthy London merchant knighted
by Henry VIII. From the nautical adventurer Phipps, of the time of
Charles II., come the Earls of Mulgrave. Cornwallis is from a London
merchant; Coventry, from a mercer; Radnor, from a silk-manufacturer;
Warwick, from a wool-stapler; Pomfret, from a Calais merchant. Essex,
Dartmouth, Craven, Tankerville, Darnley, Cowper, and Romney, have all
had a similar origin. More recently ennobled families—the Dacres, the
Dormers, the Dudley Wards, the Hills, the Caringtons, have in like
manner taken their rise from successful trade. It is an origin surely
as honourable as dexterous courtiership, gifts of church-lands, or
mediæval robbery and plunder.