THE first of October, 1774, arrived at last; and, for the first time in
my life, I felt myself at liberty. I worked a few weeks with my old
master, and then set off to spend the winter at Cherryburn. There I had
plenty of work to do, chiefly from Thomas Angus, printer, Newcastle. I
continued there, employed by him and others, till the summer of 1776.
This was a time of great enjoyment, for the charms of the country were
highly relished by me, and after so long an almost absence from it, gave
even that relish a zest which I have not words to describe. I continued
to execute wood cuts and other jobs, but often rambled about among my
old neighbours, and became more and more attached to them, as well as to
the country.
In the storms of winter, I joined the Nimrods as of old. In spring and
summer, my favourite sport of angling was pretty closely followed up.
About Christmas, as I had done before when a boy, I went with my father
to a distance to collect the money due to him for coals. In these
rounds, I had the opportunity of witnessing the kindness and hospitality
of the people. The countenances of all, both high and low, beamed with
cheerfulness; and this was heightened everywhere by the music of old
tunes, from the well-known, exhilarating, wild notes of the
Northumberland pipes, amidst the buzz occasioned by “foulpleughs”
(morrice or sword dancers) from various parts of the country. This
altogether left an impression on my mind which the cares of the world
have never effaced from it. The gentry, the farmers, and even the
working people, of that day had their Christmas home-brewed ale, made
only from malt and hops. This was before the pernicious use of chemical
compounds was known, or agricultural improvements had quickened the eyes
of landlords, banished many small farmers, soured their countenances,
and altered for the worse the characters of the larger ones that
remained.
Having all my life, at home, at school, and during my apprenticeship,
lived under perpetual restraints, when I thus felt myself at liberty, I
became, as I suppose, like a bird which had escaped from its cage. Even
angling, of which I was so fond, and of which I thought I never could
tire, became rather dull when I found I could take as much of it as I
pleased. While I was pursuing this sport on a hot day in June, I gave it
up; and, laying down my rod awhile, I then tied it up and walked home.
Having resolved to see more of the country, I requested my mother to put
me up some shirts, &c., and I told her I was going to see my uncle (her
brother) in Cumberland. She soon complied with my request, amidst
expressions of fear for my safety; showing the natural feelings of a
good mother. After sewing three guineas in my breeches waistband, I set
off that afternoon, and walked to Haydon Bridge. There I visited an old
acquaintance, Thomas Spence, then a teacher in Haydon Bridge school,
with whom I was a welcome guest, and stopped two days. Leave of absence
from school having been given to him, I rambled with him over the
neighbourhood, and visited everything worth notice. When I departed, he
accompanied me on the road nearly to Haltwhistle. After this, I met with
little to attract notice except Naworth Castle; and, when I left it, and
was proceeding across the country, I lost my way by following paths
which led only to holes that had been made by digging peats and turf,
and did not reach my uncle’s house at Ainstable till late in the
evening. I remained at Ainstable about a week, during which time I
rambled about the neighbourhood, visited my friends at Kirkoswald and
elsewhere, and spent what time I could spare in fishing for trout in the
Croglin.
After I had seen Armanthwaite and Penrith, I began to think of moving
further abroad; and my cousin having occasion to go to Carlisle, I went
with him there, where we parted. I wandered about the old city; and, in
the afternoon, looked into the shop of a watchmaker, to whom I was known
as having been employed, by my master, to engrave many clock faces for
him, during my apprenticeship. While I was in his shop, in came a man—a
kind of scamp—of the name of Graham, who asked me what road I was going?
“To Scotland,” I replied. “So am I,” said he; “and, if you can keep foot
with me, I will be glad of your company.” We had no sooner set off, than
I found he was a vapouring fop who was very vain of his great prowess as
a pedestrian. I could soon see that he wanted to walk me off my foot;
but, having been long practised in that way, he found himself mistaken,
and long before we reached Longtown, he had called in at several public
houses for refreshment, and invited me to do the same. I, however, was
not thirsty, and not being used to drink, I sat on the seats at the
doors until he came out. He kept on in this way till we reached
Langholm, when he surveyed me with an attentive eye, but said nothing.
At Langholm, my landlord, who was a Cumberland man and knew my relatives
there, was very kind to me; and, among many other matters concerning
them, told me that my cousin who had accompanied me to Carlisle had won
nine belts in his wrestling matches in that county. From Langholm, I set
off to Hawick and Selkirk, and from the latter place, next morning, by
Dalkeith, to Edinburgh. I had been, in this short tramp, particularly
charmed with the border scenery; the roads, in places, twined about the
bottoms of the hills, which were beautifully green, like velvet, spotted
over with white sheep, which grazed on their sides, watched by the
peaceful shepherd and his dog. I could not help depicturing in my mind
the change which had taken place, and comparing it with the times of old
that had passed away, and in inwardly rejoicing at the happy reverse. It
is horrid to contemplate the ferocious battles of that day, between men
descended from the same stock, and bearing the same names on both sides
of the border, only divided from each other by a river, a rivulet, a
burn, or a stripe of ground;—that they should have been, at the nod of
their chieftains, called out to the wild foray by the slogan horn, or
the shrill notes of the bugle; that they should have been led to meet
and slaughter each other, to manure the ground with their blood, amidst
the clash of arms and the thrilling music of the pipes, which helped to
excite them on to close their eyes in death. These transactions, which
are handed down to their descendants of the present generation in
traditionary tales, and kept in remembrance by the songs and tunes of
old times, serve now only as food for reflection or amusement.
On entering Edinburgh, having been recommended to the George Inn,
Bristoport, I halted there; but, being quite unacquainted with the
customs of living in such places, I knew not what to do, or how to
conduct myself. I, however, called for a pint of beer,—and I think it
was the first I ever called for in my life,—when, lo! a good-looking
girl, bare-footed and bare-legged, entered with a pewter pot, almost the
size of a half leg of a boot. This I thought I could not empty in a
week. As I found I could not remain in this place, I sought for another,
and luckily fell in with an old Newcastle acquaintance; and to her I
stated my case, went with her, and felt quite at home in her house.
After I had seen as much of “Auld Reekie” as I could, and been lost in
admiration at the grandeur of its situation, and of its old buildings, I
next day called upon Hector Gavin, an engraver, in Parliament Close.
This kind man—a stranger to me—after a bit of chat about the arts, &c.,
threw by his tools, and was quite at my service. The warmth of his
kindness I never can forget. He took me all over Edinburgh, and gave me
a history and explanation of everything he thought worthy of notice.
Having parted from him with his best and warmest wishes, I rose early on
the next morning and walked to Glasgow. After leaving my bundle at an
inn, to which I had been recommended, I took a ramble through the city.
There I fell in, by chance, with an old acquaintance, and who I supposed
was dead long ago. He was not like me; he could drink plenty; so that I
was at no loss what to do at this inn, as I had been in Edinburgh. He
called upon me next morning with a well-informed man, when they showed
me everything they thought worthy of notice in Glasgow, which, though a
large city, containing many handsome buildings, I was not so charmed
with as I had been with Edinburgh.
From Glasgow, I set off to Dumbarton; and, on my way, took as good a
survey of the country, and whatever was new to me, as I could. My
landlord at Dumbarton had seen a deal of the world, either as a soldier
or a gentleman’s servant, and was very communicative; and I think I
spent the next day with him, in walking about and viewing everything
that he could think of that might please or entertain me. After leaving
him, I wished much to see the printing at the cotton works, and the
print fields, as they were called, on the river Leven, near Dumbarton.
To these, however, I could not get admission; so I kept passing onward,
up the Leven, till Smollett’s monument, near the side of it, arrested my
attention. There I stopped, for I had read Smollett’s works, and almost
adored him as an author. On the pedestal of the monument, was a long
Latin inscription, which I was endeavouring to translate, but was
puzzled to make out; having never looked into a Latin book since I had
left school; and, for the first time, I felt mortified at not having
done so. While I was thus employed, up came a “lish,” clever young man,
a Highlander, smartly dressed in the garb of his country. He jumped down
beside me, and we together made out the translation. When this was done,
on learning from me that my sole object was to see Scotland, he pressed
me to accompany him to some place or other, the name of which I do not
now remember. We, however, walked a long way together on the western
side of Loch Lomond, and I know I did not visit Inverary, the seat of
Argyle, but stopped with my companion at a grazier’s, or farmer’s,
house, not a long way from it.
Having made up my mind not to visit any town, or put up at any inn, I
commenced my “wild-goose chase,” and bent my way, in many a zig-zag
direction, through the interior of part of the Highlands, by the sides
of its lakes and its mountains. The beauty and serenity of the former,
and the grandeur or terrific aspect of the latter, I gazed upon with
wonder, and with both was charmed to ecstacy. In moving forward, I was
often accompanied or directed to some farmer’s or grazier’s house, by
the herds or drovers, whom I fell in with; and, in some of these houses,
I took up my abode, and often, by the pressing solicitations of my host
or hostess, was prevailed upon to remain with them a day or two. These
kind—these hospitable people—I have never forgotten. Often the mistress
of the house in these remote places, never having seen any person from
England, examined my dress from head to foot, and in English—which, it
was easy to discover, had been imperfectly taught her—made many
enquiries respecting the country from whence I came; while the herds,
with their bare knees, sat listening around, very seldom knowing what we
were talking about. These herds, or some of the family, generally set or
directed me to the house of some other distant grazier; and I met with
the same kind and warm reception throughout my wanderings I had
experienced at first. It sometimes happened that, by my having stopped
too long on my way, in admiration of the varied prospects I met with,
that I was benighted, and was obliged to take shelter under some rocky
projection, or to lay myself down amongst the heather, till daylight. In
my traversings and wanderings, I called in at all the houses on my way,
whether situated in the beautiful little valleys, in the glens, or on
the sides of heathery hills. In these places it was common to see three
houses, one added to another. The first contained a young married couple
with their healthy-looking children; the next, or middle one, was
occupied by the father and mother, and perhaps the brothers and sisters,
of this couple; and, further on, at the end, was the habitation of the
old people. These places had always garths and gardens adjoining, with
peat stacks and other fuel at hand for the winter; and the whole was
enlivened with numbers of ducks, chickens, &c. On my getting some
refreshment of whey or milk in such places as these, I always found it
difficult to get payment made for anything, as it seemed to give
offence; and, when I could get any money slipped into the hands of the
children, I was sure to be pursued, and obliged to accept of a pocket
full of bannocks and scones.
On one occasion, I was detained all day and all night at a house of this
kind, in listening to the tunes of a young man of the family who played
well upon the Scottish pipes. I, in turn, whistled several Tyneside
tunes to him; so that we could hardly get separated. Before my departure
next day, I contrived by stealth to put some money into the hands of the
children. I had not got far from the house till I was pursued by a
beautiful young woman, who accosted me in “badish” English, which she
must have got off by heart just before she left the house, the purport
of which was to urge my acceptance of the usual present. This I wished
to refuse; but, with a face and neck blushed with scarlet, she pressed
it upon me with such sweetness—while I thought at the same time that she
invited me to return—that (I could not help it) I seized her, and
smacked her lips. She then sprang away from me, with her bare legs, like
a deer, and left me fixed to the spot, not knowing what to do. I was
particularly struck with her whole handsome appearance. It was a
compound of loveliness, health, and agility. Her hair, I think, had been
flaxen or light, but was tanned to a pale brown by being exposed to the
sun. This was tied behind with a riband, and dangled down her back; and,
as she bounded along, it flowed in the air. I had not seen her while I
was in the house, and felt grieved because I could not hope ever to see
her more.
After having wandered about in this way for some time longer, during
which I uniformly met with the same kind treatment among these
unpolluted, unspoiled, honourable, and kind people, I began to think of
the long way I had to get over on my return towards home; for, although
my money was not greatly diminished among the Highlanders, yet I knew
not how much I might want in or near towns, in the more _civilised_
districts; so I turned back in a south-easterly direction through the
country, where I met, in my various wanderings, the same warm and
friendly reception. From that time to this, I have ever felt pleased at
the name of Highlander. Were not these people proof against the
temptation of a bribe of thirty thousand pounds, held out to them to
betray the unfortunate Prince Charles Stuart. Is it not to be regretted
that agricultural improvements have taught the landlords, or chieftains,
to turn numerous farms into one, and to banish thousands of these hardy
descendants of the ancient Britons,—these brave race of men to whose
forefathers they owed so much,—to seek an asylum in foreign climes? In
exchange for _men_, they have filled the country with sheep! Property,
in every country, should be held sacred, but it should also have its
bounds; and, in my opinion, it should be, in a certain degree, held in
trust, jointly, for the benefit of its owners, and the good of society.
To exercise a right of property beyond this is despotism, the offspring
of misplaced aristocratic pride.
I have not noticed that I was sometimes, in passing along, detained at
fairs and “trysts.” These, with their merry-makings, were something like
the “hoppings” and “feasts” on Tyneside; and the girls had the same
ruddy look as the farmer’s servants who are put to do field work in
Northumberland and Durham. With the Scotch music and dancing, I was very
much pleased. They were certainly good dancers, and seemed quite wild,
or exhilarated to excess.
I left the Highlands with regret. The last day’s journey was a very long
one, and a very hungry one; after which I entered Stirling in the night.
I told the landlord of the public house there that I was almost
famished, not having stopped at any house on my very long journey to
that place; and I begged of him to hasten to get me something to eat. He
told me he had nothing left but eggs, as his company had eaten up
everything that had been in the house. I did not get my eggs till
midnight; for a quarrel, or an affray, happened in the house at the time
I ought to have had them. They were brought in to me at last, and were
boiled as hard as eggs could be. With them, in my eagerness to eat, I
was nearly choked.
I remained about two or three days at Stirling, chiefly on account of my
face having been so blistered by the heat of the sun that I thought it
best to halt till the effects of it could be removed. My landlord was
very kind. He had seen the world; and, when he found that I was an
engraver, he expressed his surprise that I had not carried my tools with
me; for, if I had done so, he said he had no manner of doubt, with my
knowledge of heraldry, &c., that I could have found plenty of employment
among the gentry and the lairds, in engraving their arms, crests, and
other devices, besides being handed from chieftain to chieftain, and
seeing the whole country in a very different way from that which I had,
through wildernesses, so wildly pursued. On my way to Edinburgh, by
Falkirk, I visited Carron Works, and passed under the canal, where, for
the first time, I saw vessels afloat that had passed over my head. I was
also shown the ground where the Battle of Bannockburn was fought.
As soon as I could, I made my way, by Linlithgow, to Edinburgh. I
engaged a passage by sea, in a ship belonging to Whitby, which had to
touch at Shields. I attended upon this vessel every tide, late and
early, for several days, notwithstanding which I missed my time, and was
left behind. In this emergency, I got on board a Leith sloop, bound for
Newcastle, then moving from the pier. We had no sooner got down the
Frith of Forth, to the open sea, than we met a heavy swell, and
presently encountered a violent gale which soon tore our sails to
shivers, drove us far out of sight of land, and put our crew in a great
bustle and dilemma. In this small vessel, the crew and passengers
amounted to twenty-six. For these latter there was no accommodation. The
boat upon deck was full of the sick, covered by an old sail, and the
rest were obliged to sit or lie down in any corner where they could find
room. The first night was a sickly, suffocating one; and for three more
nights and three days, there was little or no amendment of our
situation. On board this sloop there were only two beds that were not
stowed with goods; and, from my wanting rest so long before I left
Edinburgh, I crept into one of them as soon as I could, but found it so
low that I could not lie on my side, or easily turn over. So I could get
no sleep; and, to mend the matter, I had not been long in this wretched
bed till an infant was put in beside me, its mother being dismally sick
in the boat upon deck; and the child fell exclusively into my charge. I
nursed it as well as I could during the whole voyage; and, I think, had
I not done so, it must have died. After resting a day or two at South
Shields, I set off to Newcastle, where I arrived (in the assize week, I
think), on the 12th of August, 1776. After my long absence, I found I
had a few shillings left. On this occasion, my friends in Newcastle
quizzed me not a little for having, as they termed it, begged my way
through Scotland.
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