DAVIT LUNAN'S POLITICAL REMINISCENCES.
When an election-day comes round now, it takes me back to the time of
1832. I would be eight or ten year old at that time. James Strachan was
at the door by five o'clock in the morning in his Sabbath clothes,
by arrangement. We was to go up to the hill to see them building the
bonfire. Moreover, there was word that Mr. Scrimgour was to be there
tossing pennies, just like at a marriage. I was awakened before that
by my mother at the pans and bowls. I have always associated elections
since that time with jelly-making; for just as my mother would fill the
cups and tankers and bowls with jelly to save cans, she was emptying the
pots and pans to make way for the ale and porter. James and me was to
help to carry it home from the square--him in the pitcher and me in a
flagon, because I was silly for my age and not strong in the arms.
It was a very blowy morning, though the rain kept off, and what part
of the bonfire had been built already was found scattered to the winds.
Before we rose a great mass of folk was getting the barrels and things
together again; but some of them was never recovered, and suspicion
pointed to William Geddes, it being well known that William would not
hesitate to carry off anything if unobserved. More by token Chirsty
Lamby had seen him rolling home a barrowful of firewood early in the
morning, her having risen to hold cold water in her mouth, being down
with the toothache. When we got up to the hill everybody was making for
the quarry, which being more sheltered was now thought to be a better
place for the bonfire. The masons had struck work, it being a general
holiday in the whole countryside. There was a great commotion of people,
all fine dressed and mostly with glengarry bonnets; and me and James was
well acquaint with them, though mostly weavers and the like and not my
father's equal. Mr. Scrimgour was not there himself; but there was a
small active body in his room as tossed the money for him fair enough;
though not so liberally as was expected, being mostly ha'pence where
pennies was looked for. Such was not my father's opinion, and him and a
few others only had a vote. He considered it was a waste of money giving
to them that had no vote and so taking out of other folks' mouths;
but the little man said it kept everybody in good-humor and made Mr.
Scrimgour popular. He was an extraordinary affable man and very spirity,
running about to waste no time in walking, and gave me a shilling,
saying to me to be a truthful boy and tell my father. He did not give
James anything, him being an orphan, but clapped his head and said he
was a fine boy.
The captain was to vote for the bill if he got in, the which he did. It
was the captain was to give the ale and the porter in the square like
a true gentleman. My father gave a kind of laugh when I let him see my
shilling, and said he would keep care of it for me; and sorry I was I
let him get it, me never seeing the face of it again to this day. Me and
James was much annoyed with the women, especially Kitty Davie, always
pushing in when there was tossing, and tearing the very ha'pence out of
our hands: us not caring so much about the money, but humiliated to see
women mixing up in politics. By the time the topmost barrel was on the
bonfire there was a great smell of whiskey in the quarry, it being a
confined place. My father had been against the bonfire being in the
quarry, arguing that the wind on the hill would have carried off the
smell of the whiskey; but Peter Tosh said they did not want the smell
carried off; it would be agreeable to the masons for weeks to come.
Except among the women, there was no fighting nor wrangling at the
quarry, but all in fine spirits.
I misremember now whether it was Mr. Scrimgour or the captain that took
the fancy to my father's pigs; but it was this day, at any rate, that
the captain sent him the game-cock. Whichever one it was that fancied
the litter of pigs, nothing would content him but to buy them, which
he did at thirty shillings each, being the best bargain ever my father
made. Nevertheless I'm thinking he was windier of the cock. The captain,
who was a local man when not with his regiment, had the grandest
collection of fighting-cocks in the county, and sometimes came into the
town to try them against the town cocks. I mind well the large wicker
cage in which they were conveyed from place to place, and never without
the captain near at hand. My father had a cock that beat all the other
town cocks at the cock-fight at our school, which was superintended by
the elder of the kirk to see fair play; but the which died of its wounds
the next day but one. This was a great grief to my father, it having
been challenged to fight the captain's cock. Therefore it was very
considerate of the captain to make my father a present of his bird;
father, in compliment to him, changing its name from the “Deil” to the
“Captain.”
During the forenoon, and I think until well on in the day, James and me
was busy with the pitcher and the flagon. The proceedings in the square,
however, was not so well conducted as in the quarry, many of the folk
there assembled showing a mean and grasping spirit. The captain had
given orders that there was to be no stint of ale and porter, and
neither there was; but much of it lost through hastiness. Great barrels
was hurled into the middle of the square, where the country wives sat
with their eggs and butter on market-day, and was quickly stove in with
an axe or paving-stone or whatever came handy. Sometimes they would
break into the barrel at different points; and then, when they tilted it
up to get the ale out at one hole, it gushed out at the bottom till the
square was flooded. My mother was fair disgusted when told by me and
James of the waste of good liquor. It is gospel truth I speak when I say
I mind well of seeing Singer Davie catching the porter in a pan as it
ran down the sire, and when the pan was full to overflowing, putting his
mouth to the stream and drinking till he was as full as the pan. Most of
the men, however, stuck to the barrels, the drink running in the street
being ale and porter mixed, and left it to the women and the young
folk to do the carrying. Susy M'Queen brought as many pans as she could
collect on a barrow, and was filling them all with porter, rejecting the
ale; but indignation was aroused against her, and as fast as she filled
the others emptied.
My father scorned to go to the square to drink ale and porter with the
crowd, having the election on his mind and him to vote. Nevertheless he
instructed me and James to keep up a brisk trade with the pans, and run
back across the gardens in case we met dishonest folk in the streets who
might drink the ale. Also, said my father, we was to let the excesses of
our neighbors be a warning in sobriety to us; enough being as good as
a feast, except when you can store it up for the winter. By and by my
mother thought it was not safe me being in the streets with so many wild
men about, and would have sent James himself, him being an orphan and
hardier; but this I did not like, but, running out, did not come back
for long enough. There is no doubt that the music was to blame for
firing the men's blood, and the result most disgraceful fighting with no
object in view. There was three fiddlers and two at the flute, most of
them blind, but not the less dangerous on that account; and they kept
the town in a ferment, even playing the country-folk home to the farms,
followed by bands of towns-folk. They were a quarrelsome set, the
ploughmen and others; and it was generally admitted in the town that
their overbearing behavior was responsible for the fights. I mind them
being driven out of the square, stones flying thick; also some stand-up
fights with sticks, and others fair enough with fists. The worst fight I
did not see. It took place in a field. At first it was only between two
who had been miscalling one another; but there was many looking on, and
when the town man was like getting the worst of it the others set to,
and a most heathenish fray with no sense in it ensued. One man had his
arm broken. I mind Hobart the bellman going about ringing his bell and
telling all persons to get within doors; but little attention was paid
to him, it being notorious that Snecky had had a fight earlier in the
day himself.
When James was fighting in the field, according to his own account, I
had the honor of dining with the electors who voted for the captain, him
paying all expenses. It was a lucky accident my mother sending me to the
town-house, where the dinner came off, to try to get my father home at
a decent hour, me having a remarkable power over him when in liquor,
but at no other time. They were very jolly, however, and insisted on my
drinking the captain's health and eating more than was safe. My father
got it next day from my mother for this; and so would I myself, but it
was several days before I left my bed, completely knocked up as I was
with the excitement and one thing or another. The bonfire, which was
built to celebrate the election of Mr. Scrimgour, was set ablaze, though
I did not see it, in honor of the election of the captain; it being
thought a pity to lose it, as no doubt it would have been. That is about
all I remember of the celebrated election of '32 when the Reform Bill
was passed.