The journal of Graves, a Bow Street officer, despatched to Holland to
obtain the surrender of the unfortunate William Brodie, bears a
reflection on the ladies somewhat like that put in the mouth of the
police-officer Sharpitlaw. It had been found difficult to identify the
unhappy criminal; and when a Scotch gentleman of respectability had
seemed disposed to give evidence on the point required, his son-in-law, a
clergyman in Amsterdam, and his daughter, were suspected by Graves to
have used arguments with the witness to dissuade him from giving his
testimony. On which subject the journal of the Bow Street officer
proceeds thus:--
"Saw then a manifest reluctance in Mr. -------, and had no doubt the
daughter and parson would endeavour to persuade him to decline troubling
himself in the matter, but judged he could not go back from what he had
said to Mr. Rich.--Nota Bene. _No mischief but a woman or a priest in
it_--here both."
NOTE M.--Sir William Dick of Braid.
This gentleman formed a striking example of the instability of human
prosperity. He was once the wealthiest man of his time in Scotland, a
merchant in an extensive line of commerce, and a farmer of the public
revenue; insomuch that, about 1640, he estimated his fortune at two
hundred thousand pounds sterling. Sir William Dick was a zealous
Covenanter; and in the memorable year 1641, he lent the Scottish
Convention of Estates one hundred thousand merks at once, and thereby
enabled them to support and pay their army, which must otherwise have
broken to pieces. He afterwards advanced L20,000 for the service of King
Charles, during the usurpation; and having, by owning the royal cause,
provoked the displeasure of the ruling party, he was fleeced of more
money, amounting in all to L65,000 sterling.
Being in this manner reduced to indigence, he went to London to try to
recover some part of the sums which had been lent on Government security.
Instead of receiving any satisfaction, the Scottish Croesus was thrown
into prison, in which he died, 19th December 1655. It is said his death
was hastened by the want of common necessaries. But this statement is
somewhat exaggerated, if it be true, as is commonly said, that though he
was not supplied with bread, he had plenty of pie-crust, thence called
"Sir William Dick's Necessity."
The changes of fortune are commemorated in a folio pamphlet, entitled,
"The Lamentable Estate and distressed Case of Sir William Dick" [Lond.
1656]. It contains three copper-plates, one representing Sir William on
horseback, and attended with guards as Lord Provost of Edinburgh,
superintending the unloading of one of his rich argosies. A second
exhibiting him as arrested, and in the hands of the bailiffs. A third
presents him dead in prison. The tract is esteemed highly valuable by
collectors of prints. The only copy I ever saw upon sale, was rated at
L30. (In London sales, copies have varied in price from L15 to L52: 10s.)
NOTE N.--Doomster, or Dempster, of Court.
The name of this officer is equivalent to the pronouncer of doom or
sentence. In this comprehensive sense, the Judges of the Isle of Man were
called Dempsters. But in Scotland the word was long restricted to the
designation of an official person, whose duty it was to recite the
sentence after it had been pronounced by the Court, and recorded by the
clerk; on which occasion the Dempster legalised it by the words of form,
"_And this I pronounce for doom._" For a length of years, the office, as
mentioned in the text, was held in commendam with that of the
executioner; for when this odious but necessary officer of justice
received his appointment, he petitioned the Court of Justiciary to be
received as their Dempster, which was granted as a matter of course.
The production of the executioner in open court, and in presence of the
wretched criminal, had something in it hideous and disgusting to the more
refined feelings of later times. But if an old tradition of the
Parliament House of Edinburgh may be trusted, it was the following
anecdote which occasioned the disuse of the Dempster's office.
It chanced at one time that the office of public executioner was vacant.
There was occasion for some one to act as Dempster, and, considering the
party who generally held the office, it is not wonderful that a locum
tenens was hard to be found. At length, one Hume, who had been sentenced
to transportation, for an attempt to burn his own house, was induced to
consent that he would pronounce the doom on this occasion. But when
brought forth to officiate, instead of repeating the doom to the
criminal, Mr. Hume addressed himself to their lordships in a bitter
complaint of the injustice of his own sentence. It was in vain that he
was interrupted, and reminded of the purpose for which he had come
hither; "I ken what ye want of me weel eneugh," said the fellow, "ye want
me to be your Dempster; but I am come to be none of your Dempster, I am
come to summon you, Lord T, and you, Lord E, to answer at the bar of
another world for the injustice you have done me in this." In short, Hume
had only made a pretext of complying with the proposal, in order to have
an opportunity of reviling the Judges to their faces, or giving them, in
the phrase of his country, "a sloan." He was hurried off amid the
laughter of the audience, but the indecorous scene which had taken place
contributed to the abolition of the office of Dempster. The sentence is
now read over by the clerk of court, and the formality of pronouncing
doom is altogether omitted.
[The usage of calling the Dempster into court by the ringing of a
hand-bell, to repeat the sentence on a criminal, is said to have been
abrogated in March 1773.]
NOTE O.--John Duke of Argyle and Greenwich.
This nobleman was very dear to his countrymen, who were justly proud of
his military and political talents, and grateful for the ready zeal with
which he asserted the rights of his native country. This was never more
conspicuous than in the matter of the Porteous Mob, when the ministers
brought in a violent and vindictive bill, for declaring the Lord Provost
of Edinburgh incapable of bearing any public office in future, for not
foreseeing a disorder which no one foresaw, or interrupting the course of
a riot too formidable to endure opposition. The same bill made provision
for pulling down the city gates, and abolishing the city guard,--rather a
Hibernian mode of enabling their better to keep the peace within burgh in
future.
The Duke of Argyle opposed this bill as a cruel, unjust, and fanatical
proceeding, and an encroachment upon the privileges of the royal burghs
of Scotland, secured to them by the treaty of Union. "In all the
proceedings of that time," said his Grace, "the nation of Scotland
treated with the English as a free and independent people; and as that
treaty, my Lords, had no other guarantee for the due performance of its
articles, but the faith and honour of a British Parliament, it would be
both unjust and ungenerous, should this House agree to any proceedings
that have a tendency to injure it."
Lord Hardwicke, in reply to the Duke of Argyle, seemed to insinuate, that
his Grace had taken up the affair in a party point of view, to which the
nobleman replied in the spirited language quoted in the text. Lord
Hardwicke apologised. The bill was much modified, and the clauses
concerning the dismantling the city, and disbanding the guard, were
departed from. A fine of L2000 was imposed on the city for the benefit of
Porteous's widow. She was contented to accept three-fourths of the sum,
the payment of which closed the transaction. It is remarkable, that, in
our day, the Magistrates of Edinburgh have had recourse to both those
measures, hold in such horror by their predecessors, as necessary steps
for the improvement of the city.
It may be here noticed, in explanation of another circumstance mentioned
in the text, that there is a tradition in Scotland, that George II.,
whose irascible temper is said sometimes to have hurried him into
expressing his displeasure _par voie du fait,_ offered to the Duke of
Argyle in angry audience, some menace of this nature, on which he left
the presence in high disdain, and with little ceremony. Sir Robert
Walpole, having met the Duke as he retired, and learning the cause of his
resentment and discomposure, endeavoured to reconcile him to what had
happened by saying, "Such was his Majesty's way, and that he often took
such liberties with himself without meaning any harm." This did not mend
matters in MacCallummore's eyes, who replied, in great disdain, "You will
please to remember, Sir Robert, the infinite distance there is betwixt
you and me." Another frequent expression of passion on the part of the
same monarch, is alluded to in the old Jacobite song--
The fire shall get both hat and wig,
As oft-times they've got a' that.
NOTE P.--Expulsion of the Bishops from the Scottish Convention.
For some time after the Scottish Convention had commenced its sittings,
the Scottish prelates retained their seats, and said prayers by rotation
to the meeting, until the character of the Convention became, through the
secession of Dundee, decidedly Presbyterian. Occasion was then taken on
the Bishop of Ross mentioning King James in his prayer, as him for whom
they watered their couch with tears. On this the Convention exclaimed,
they had no occasion for spiritual Lords, and commanded the Bishops to
depart and return no more, Montgomery of Skelmorley breaking at the same
time a coarse jest upon the scriptural expression used by the prelate.
Davie Deans's oracle, Patrick Walker, gives this account of their
dismission.
"When they came out, some of the Convention said they wished the honest
lads knew they were put out, for then they would not get away with haill
(whole) gowns. All the fourteen gathered together with pale faces, and
stood in a cloud in the Parliament Close; James Wilson, Robert Neilson,
Francis Hislop, and myself, were standing close by them; Francis Hislop
with force thrust Robert Neilson upon them, their heads went hard on one
another. But there being so many enemies in the city fretting and
gnashing the teeth, waiting for an occasion to raise a mob, when
undoubtedly blood would have been shed, and having laid down conclusions
amongst ourselves to avoid giving the least occasion to all mobs, kept us
from tearing off their gowns.
"Their graceless Graces went quickly off, and there was neither bishop
nor curate seen in the street--this was a surprising sudden change not to
be forgotten. Some of us would have rejoiced near them in large sums to
have seen these Bishops sent legally down the Bow that they might have
found the weight of their tails in a tow to dry their tow-soles; that
they might know what hanging was, they having been active for themselves
and the main instigators to all the mischiefs, cruelties, and bloodshed
of that time, wherein the streets of Edinburgh and other places of the
land did run with the innocent precious dear blood of the Lord's
people."--_Life and Death of three famous Worthies_ (Semple, etc.), by
Patrick Walker. Edin. 1727, pp. 72, 73.
NOTE Q.--Half-hanged Maggie Dickson.
[In the Statistical Account of the Parish of Inveresk (vol. xvi. p. 34),
Dr. Carlyle says, "No person has been convicted of a capital felony since
the year 1728, when the famous Maggy Dickson was condemned and executed
for child-murder in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, and was restored to
life in a cart on her way to Musselburgh to be buried . . . . . She kept
an ale-house in a neighbouring parish for many years after she came to
life again, which was much resorted to from curiosity." After the body
was cut down and handed over to her relatives, her revival is attributed
to the jolting of the cart, and according to Robert Chambers,--taking a
retired road to Musselburgh, "they stopped near Peffer-mill to get a
dram; and when they came out from the house to resume their journey,
Maggie was sitting up in the cart." Among the poems of Alexander
Pennecuick (who died in 1730), is one entitled "The Merry Wives of
Musselburgh's Welcome to Meg Dickson;" while another broadside, without
any date or author's name, is called "Margaret Dickson's Penitential
Confession," containing these lines referring to her conviction:--
"Who found me guilty of that barbarous crime,
And did, by law, end this wretched life of mine;
But God . . . . did me preserve," etc.
In another of these ephemeral productions hawked about the streets,
called, "A Ballad by J--n B--s," are the following lines:--
"Please peruse the speech
Of ill-hanged Maggy Dickson.
Ere she was strung, the wicked wife
Was sainted by the Flamen (priest),
But now, since she's retum'd to life,
Some say she's the old samen."
In his reference to Maggie's calling salt after her recovery, the Author
would appear to be alluding to another character who went by the name of
"saut _Maggie,_" and is represented in one or more old etchings about
1790.]
NOTE R.--Madge Wildfire.
In taking leave of the poor maniac, the Author may here observe that the
first conception of the character, though afterwards greatly altered, was
taken from that of a person calling herself, and called by others,
Feckless Fannie (weak or feeble Fannie), who always travelled with a
small flock of sheep. The following account, furnished by the persevering
kindness of Mr. Train, contains, probably, all that can now be known of
her history, though many, among whom is the Author, may remember having
heard of Feckless Fannie in the days of their youth.
"My leisure hours," says Mr. Train, "for some time past have been mostly
spent in searching for particulars relating to the maniac called Feckless
Fannie, who travelled over all Scotland and England, between the years
1767 and 1775, and whose history is altogether so like a romance, that I
have been at all possible pains to collect every particular that can be
found relative to her in Galloway, or in Ayrshire.
"When Feckless Fannie appeared in Ayrshire, for the first time, in the
summer of 1769, she attracted much notice, from being attended by twelve
or thirteen sheep, who seemed all endued with faculties so much superior
to the ordinary race of animals of the same species, as to excite
universal astonishment. She had for each a different name, to which it
answered when called by its mistress, and would likewise obey in the most
surprising manner any command she thought proper to give. When
travelling, she always walked in front of her flock, and they followed
her closely behind. When she lay down at night in the fields, for she
would never enter into a house, they always disputed who should lie next
to her, by which means she was kept warm, while she lay in the midst of
them; when she attempted to rise from the ground, an old ram, whose name
was Charlie, always claimed the sole right of assisting her; pushing any
that stood in his way aside, until he arrived right before his mistress;
he then bowed his head nearly to the ground that she might lay her hands
on his horns, which were very large; he then lifted her gently from the
ground by raising his head. If she chanced to leave her flock feeding, as
soon as they discovered she was gone, they all began to bleat most
piteously, and would continue to do so till she returned; they would then
testify their joy by rubbing their sides against her petticoat and
frisking about.
"Feckless Fannie was not, like most other demented creatures, fond of
fine dress; on her head she wore an old slouched hat, over her shoulders
an old plaid, and carried always in her hand a shepherd's crook; with any
of these articles she invariably declared she would not part for any
consideration whatever. When she was interrogated why she set so much
value on things seemingly so insignificant, she would sometimes relate
the history of her misfortune, which was briefly as follows:--
"'I am the only daughter of a wealthy squire in the north of England, but
I loved my father's shepherd, and that has been my ruin; for my father,
fearing his family would be disgraced by such an alliance, in a passion
mortally wounded my lover with a shot from a pistol. I arrived just in
time to receive the last blessing of the dying man, and to close his eyes
in death. He bequeathed me his little all, but I only accepted these
sheep, to be my sole companions through life, and this hat, this plaid,
and this crook, all of which I will carry until I descend into the
grave.'
"This is the substance of a ballad, eighty-four lines of which I copied
down lately from the recitation of an old woman in this place, who says
she has seen it in print, with a plate on the title-page, representing
Fannie with her sheep behind her. As this ballad is said to have been
written by Lowe, the author of _Mary's Dream,_ I am surprised that it has
not been noticed by Cromek in his _Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway
Song;_ but he perhaps thought it unworthy of a place in his collection,
as there is very little merit in the composition; which want of room
prevents me from transcribing at present. But if I thought you had never
seen it, I would take an early opportunity of doing so.
"After having made the tour of Galloway in 1769, as Fannie was wandering
in the neighbourhood of Moffat, on her way to Edinburgh, where, I am
informed, she was likewise well known, Old Charlie, her favourite ram,
chanced to break into a kale-yard, which the proprietor observing, let
loose a mastiff, that hunted the poor sheep to death. This was a sad
misfortune; it seemed to renew all the pangs which she formerly felt on
the death of her lover. She would not part from the side of her old
friend for several days, and it was with much difficulty she consented to
allow him to be buried; but still wishing to pay a tribute to his memory,
she covered his grave with moss, and fenced it round with osiers, and
annually returned to the same spot, and pulled the weeds from the grave
and repaired the fence. This is altogether like a romance; but I believe
it is really true that she did so. The grave of Charlie is still held
sacred even by the school-boys of the present day in that quarter. It is
now, perhaps, the only instance of the law of Kenneth being attended to,
which says, 'The grave where anie that is slaine lieth buried, leave
untilled for seven years. Repute every grave holie so as thou be well
advised, that in no wise with thy feet thou tread upon it.'
"Through the storms of winter, as well as in the milder seasons of the
year, she continued her wandering course, nor could she be prevented from
doing so, either by entreaty or promise of reward. The late Dr. Fullarton
of Rosemount, in the neighbourhood of Ayr, being well acquainted with her
father when in England, endeavoured, in a severe season, by every means
in his power, to detain her at Rosemount for a few days until the weather
should become more mild; but when she found herself rested a little, and
saw her sheep fed, she raised her crook, which was the signal she always
gave for the sheep to follow her, and off they all marched together.
"But the hour of poor Fannie's dissolution was now at hand, and she
seemed anxious to arrive at the spot where she was to terminate her
mortal career. She proceeded to Glasgow, and while passing through that
city a crowd of idle boys, attracted by her singular appearance, together
with the novelty of seeing so many sheep obeying her command, began to
ferment her with their pranks, till she became so irritated that she
pelted them with bricks and stones, which they returned in such a manner,
that she was actually stoned to death between Glasgow and Anderston.
"To the real history of this singular individual credulity has attached
several superstitious appendages. It is said that the farmer who was the
cause of Charlie's death shortly afterwards drowned himself in a
peat-hag; and that the hand with which a butcher in Kilinarnock struck
one of the other sheep became powerless, and withered to the very bone.
In the summer of 1769, when she was passing by New Cumnock, a young man,
whose name was William Forsyth, son of a farmer in the same parish,
plagued her so much that she wished he might never see the morn; upon
which he went home and hanged himself in his father's barn. And I doubt
not that many such stories may yet be remembered in other parts where she
had been."
So far Mr. Train. The Author can only add to this narrative that Feckless
Fannie and her little flock were well known in the pastoral districts. In
attempting to introduce such a character into fiction, the Author felt
the risk of encountering a comparison with the Maria of Sterne; and,
besides, the mechanism of the story would have been as much retarded by
Feckless Fannie's flock as the night march of Don Quixote was delayed by
Sancho's tale of the sheep that were ferried over the river.
The Author has only to add, that notwithstanding the preciseness of his
friend Mr. Train's statement, there may be some hopes that the outrage on
Feckless Fannie and her little flock was not carried to extremity. There
is no mention of any trial on account of it, which, had it occurred in
the manner stated, would have certainly taken place; and the Author has
understood that it was on the Border she was last seen, about the skirts
of the Cheviot hills, but without her little flock.
NOTE S.--Death of Francis Gordon.
This exploit seems to have been one in which Patrick Walker prided
himself not a little; and there is reason to fear, that that excellent
person would have highly resented the attempt to associate another with
him in the slaughter of a King's Life-Guardsman. Indeed, he would have
had the more right to be offended at losing any share of the glory, since
the party against Gordon was already three to one, besides having the
advantage of firearms. The manner in which he vindicates his claim to the
exploit, without committing himself by a direct statement of it, is not a
little amusing. It is as follows:--
"I shall give a brief and true account of that man's death, which I did
not design to do while I was upon the stage; I resolve, indeed (if it be
the Lord's will), to leave a more full account of that and many other
remarkable steps of the Lord's dispensations towards me through my life.
It was then commonly said, that Francis Gordon was a volunteer out of
wickedness of principles, and could not stay with the troop, but was
still raging and ranging to catch hiding suffering people. Meldrum and
Airly's troops, lying at Lanark upon the first day of March 1682, Mr.
Gordon and another wicked comrade, with their two servants and four
horses, came to Kilcaigow, two miles from Lanark, searching for William
Caigow and others, under hiding.
"Mr. Gordon, rambling throw the town, offered to abuse the women. At
night, they came a mile further to the Easter-Seat, to Robert Muir's, he
being also under hiding. Gordon's comrade and the two servants went to
bed, but he could sleep none, roaring all night for women. When day came,
he took only his sword in his hand, and came to Moss-platt, and some new
men (who had been in the fields all night) seeing him, they fled, and he
pursued. James Wilson, Thomas Young, and myself, having been in a meeting
all night, were lying down in the morning. We were alarmed, thinking
there were many more than one; he pursued hard, and overtook us. Thomas
Young said, 'Sir, what do ye pursue us for?' He said, 'he was come to
send us to hell.' James Wilson said, 'that shall not be, for we will
defend ourselves.' He said, 'that either he or we should go to it now.'
He run his sword furiously throw James Wilson's coat. James fired upon
him, but missed him. All this time he cried, 'Damn his soul!' He got a
shot in his head out of a pocket-pistol, rather fit for diverting a boy
than killing such a furious, mad, brisk man, which, notwithstanding,
killed him dead. The foresaid William Caigow and Robert Muir came to us.
We searched him for papers, and found a long scroll of sufferers' names,
either to kill or take. I tore it all in pieces. He had also some Popish
books and bonds of money, with one dollar, which a poor man took off the
ground; all which we put in his pocket again. Thus, he was four miles
from Lanark, and near a mile from his comrade, seeking his own death and
got it. And for as much as we have been condemned for this, I could never
see how any one could condemn us that allows of self-defence, which the
laws both of God and nature allow to every creature. For my own part, my
heart never smote me for this. When I saw his blood run, I wished that
all the blood of the Lord's stated and avowed enemies in Scotland had
been in his veins. Having such a clear call and opportunity, I would have
rejoiced to have seen it all gone out with a gush. I have many times
wondered at the greater part of the indulged, lukewarm ministers and
professors in that time, who made more noise of murder, when one of these
enemies had been killed even in our own defence, than of twenty of us
being murdered by them. None of these men present was challenged for this
but myself. Thomas Young thereafter suffered at Mauchline, but was not
challenged for this; Robert Muir was banished; James Wilson outlived the
persecution; Williarn Caigow died in the Canongate Tolbooth, in the
beginning of 1685. Mr. Wodrow is misinformed, who says that he suffered
unto death."
NOTE T.--Tolling to Service in Scotland.
In the old days of Scotland, when persons of property (unless they
happened to be non-jurors) were as regular as their inferiors in
attendance on parochial worship, there was a kind of etiquette, in
waiting till the patron or acknowledged great man of the parish should
make his appearance. This ceremonial was so sacred in the eyes of a
parish beadle in the Isle of Bute, that the kirk bell being out of order,
he is said to have mounted the steeple every Sunday, to imitate with his
voice the successive summonses which its mouth of metal used to send
forth. The first part of this imitative harmony was simply the repetition
of the words _Bell bell, bell bell,_ two or three times in a manner as
much resembling the sound as throat of flesh could imitate throat of
iron. _Bellu'm! bellu'm!_ was sounded forth in a more urgent manner; but
he never sent forth the third and conclusive peal, the varied tone of
which is called in Scotland the ringing-in, until the two principal
heritors of the parish approached, when the chime ran thus:--
Bellu'm Belle'llum,
Bernera and Knockdow's coming!
Bellu'm Belle'llum,
Bernera and Knockdow's coming!
Thereby intimating that service was instantly to proceed.
[Mr. Mackinlay of Borrowstounness, a native of Bute, states that Sir
Walter Scott had this story from Sir Adam Ferguson; but that the gallant
knight had not given the lairds' titles correctly--the bellman's great
men being "Craich, Drumbuie, and Barnernie!"--1842.]