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Scenes from an Artist's Life
Chapter 10
" It's hardly in a body's power,
To keep, at times, frae being sour."
" At brooses thou had ne'er a fellow
For pith an' speed,
But ev'ry tail thou pay't them hollow,
Where'er thou gaed."
BURNS.
JOHNNY ROSEBURGH-HE SELLS HIS MEAL TO THE DEVIL--HOW HE WENT TO WAR WITH THE ALMIGHTY-RACER JOCK'S RUN WITH THE ENGLISH BULLY-HIS LAST RACE-A LECTURE FROM ROBIN STEVENSON-THE BOYHOOD OF A GREENOCK SHIPOWNER.
Johnny Roseburgh was a farmer on the estate of Newfield. The Boghead was the name of his farm.
He was a laigh-set, braidshouthered, willing man; whatever he did was done in earnest. He was nae
hypocrite. He was an obliging and friendly spirit. He was good at a langsyne crack; he had a fine
memory, a clear perception, and a fullness of expression. He gave full measure to his sentences,
beginning with a smack of the lips, and finishing with a full pressure of the cheeks, sending them
back by his lugs. He had a tight bargain of his farm, and required a good price for his meal to make
it pay.
He used to be a servant with Guthrie of Harperland, and while in his employment drove meal to the
Paisley market, getting the sacks and siller hame wi' him. This gave him a knowledge beyond
setting a sack of meal into a huxter's shop and waiting till it was sold. Johnny used to seek the tap
price for his grain or meal, as it was aff guid grun' and weel handled. Whaever refused his price got
the usual answer, " Gif ye dinna, anither will."
That night of the day on which the news arrived in Kilmarnock of auld Bonaparte having ran awa'
frae Elba, there were few farmers went hame sober. Johnny, amang the rest, had ta'en a taste a wee
free. He said that the farmers' friend was at large, and twa three o' them were drinking his health.
On the road hame he had some soliloquies, standing now and again, supposing that somebody
was offering for his meal ! Auld Robin Templeton was coming hame a wee late likewise, and at
Johnny Roseburgh's horse pond he thought that he wad ha'e a taste o' water. He sat down to rest a
wee, and he thought that he heard a footfall coming alang the road. Then he thought that there were
twa folk, as he heard a very warm discussion going on about the price o' the meal. There seemed
some one making an offer, and another refusing to accept. This was Johnny Roseburgh returning
frae the town and talking to himsel'. He stood a wee fornent whaur Robin sat. The closing scene
was at hand. " I'se tell ye what,- whatever is for my interest is to me a blessing; so, gin ye dinna
like to tak' it at that price, anither will."
Robin let the cat out the bag against Johnny, and he used to be roused on the point of selling his
meal to the deevil beside the horse hole. That served as a date. "When Johnny Roseburgh selt his
meal to the deevil" was just the same as saying, " When Bony made his escape frae Elba."
One night about the time of Waterloo a great gathering was met in John Rowat's to hear the news
read. Among them were Johnny and Robin. Rab Brown, fond of fun and mischief, brought up the
subject. Baith the auld cocks had got a dram; they were different in politics, which set a keener
edge on their tempers. Auld Johnny came in front o' Robin, and, in pugilistic attitude, says-"Weel,
Robin, whan was't, say ye, that I was sellin' my meal to the deevil ?" Robin was a wee thing
skellied, or gleed, in the e'en. He looked prepared for self-defence, stretched forth his neck, and his
right hand to Johnny's nose. " It was just three years after ye gaed to war wi' the Almighty ! and that
very night the word cam' that Bony was back to France." It was a great sight to see twa auld men
prepared to do battle. However, Rab Brown, wha had roused them, stepped in to soothe them, and
requested Johnny to tell about the war which had been waged with unequal powers. The present battle
was something like a match, but in the ither case he had nae chance. Johnny had a strong and an
honest religious feeling within him; there was no secretiveness or meanness, but in all he did he had a
way o' his ain. He couldna suffer broth wi' watery broo on them; his broth had to be made so thick
that the spoon wad stand upright in the middle o' the muckle wooden dish in which they were brought
to table. During the time he took to ask the blessing, should the spoon fall to the side, a volley of
swearing followed to the servant lass before supping began. I have seen and supped Johnny's broth,
and, as he himsel' said, they were meat for a working man. There were plenty of horse beans and
grey peas and weel-bursted barley in them. He had great faith in the fruits of the earth on which he
lived, and liked water as weel as ony body, but wad rather drink it out o' a dish than sup it wi' a
spoon.
Johnny, as it were, was ruffed in for a full, true, and particular account of going to war with the
higher powers in 1811. With a full smack of the lips and serious compression of countenance he
began:-" Whenever I think on that time there is humiliation in my mind anent my conduct. It was a
serious time in every sense o' the word; for eight weeks the rain fell through the week, after hairst
was nearly by as far as the cutting o' the crap was concerned, and ilk Sabbath was as pretty
weather as ever seen. Everybody was affected in the mind wi' a sadness. Winter was on, the crops
were out, the rent was owing, and naething but starvation staring us in the face. I never in my life
had before that dooted the promise o' harvest, but I couldna help being fretfu'. I gat thrawn an'
ill-natured. On the eighth Sabbath I gaed oot to the field, and took a step up the brae by Mount
William. It was the first time I had been in the park since the corn was cut, and when I looked down
on Harperland big park and saw a' their shearers spreading oot the corn, I first wondered if I kenned
what day it was, or if I was in a Christian kintra; and I can assure you it was the first time I ever put
my han' into a sheaf o' corn on the Lord's-day, or ony ither day by way o' distrust in His promise;
but when I tried to put my han' into the top o' a sheaf, it was growing thegither like a green turf. I
looked up, and thought that my heart wad ha'e bursted in my bosom. I thought that I wad like to
spread oot a sheaf or twa, and gaed on till I spread oot a stook. It was a saddening sight. I gaed
hame to my bed, resolved to be up as soon as the Lord's day was ower, and if the drouth held on
we wad be at work. When we reached the field I put down my han' to feel what like the thing that I
had spread oot was, and it was binnering dry. I thought that I wad tie up what I had spread before
we wad open oot ony mair. When I looted to the first sheaf and was finning for the strap, a hush o'
rain cam' ower my shouther as if you had thrown a shoolfu' o' pease aboot my lugs. I looked up,
and wi' a sad heart said to the folk that had come oot wi' me, ' We'll awa' hame till our beds, for the
hand o' the Lord is against us.' We gaed hame, and next night it sprung up a drouth; sae at the turn
o' the night we made anither attempt wi' the same results, if onything waur; we cam' hame soaked
to the skin. On the third night we gaed at the same time, as a wee afore the turn o' the night a
breeze sprang up which we hoped wad continue; but on the night in question I think that the rain
cam' wi' mair venom than it had done before. I had read o' hail and rain being showered on sinners,
but I think that I never experienced sic usage before; sae I looted down, girded up the first sheaf o'
corn, wi' a vengeance I seized it by the strap and the bottom, and threw it up in His face as heigh
as I had pith, and followed it with an ugly exclamation-' Hae, tak' it, sir; pay the rent, and be d-d
to you, for I'll contend no longer wi' you, sir. You ha'e the upper han' at present, and a bonnie han'
ye're makin' o't.'
" I can assure you, men, that I wasna in my right senses at the time, and the contumacious spirit I
exhibited to His chastisement was followed by a severer punishment, for I cam' hame and took my
bed wi' brain fever, but was mercifully spared to come roun' to see my error in wishing to ha'e a' my
ain way. Naebody need expect to be always on the winning side."
As Johnny was in an eloquent key, Rab Brown began to inquire as to the race with Jock Neill and the
English bully at Irvine. This brought forth a full and spirited description of what I had heard in
detached bits before by others; and as second-hand reports are often mis-shapen and abortive in fact,
Johnny gave the standard start, accompanied by a retrospect of the genuine feelings which
accompanied the preparations, start, strain, and termination of the race.
" Jock Neill drove coals frae Newbiggin heughs to Irvine harbour. He was a houghal to look at-most
unlike a runner. He had a limping way of walking, was dull and monotonous in his look,
round-shouthered, long-backed, and short-legged, with an earnest, stubborn expression. He had a
name in the kintra for being lang-winded, and was known by Racer Jock better than Jock Neill.
Aweel, there were some English cavalry sodgers Iying in Irvine, and amang them a famed racer
and jumper. He used to practice running against time. The officers were one day dining at Eglinton
Castle, and the merits of this runner happened to come up. Old Lord Eglinton said it would make a
more exciting race to get some one to run against him than run him against time. Some one said
that there was no person in this country could run with him. His lordship at once said he would get
a man to run him, so there and then a wager was taken up. Jock Neill was waited on next day by
his lordship as he came to the shore with coals. The length of the race was left open, as well as the
place of action, to be named by his lordship. Jock was willing to run him this day if he liked, for sax
miles on the toll road, either half a mile out and in for half-a-dozen bouts, a hale mile for three or
straight out, whatever way his lordship might prefer. The place named was from the Townend Toll,
Irvine, to the Red Burn, sax times out and in.
" The day cam'; Jock gaed to the shore wi' coals as usual and I gaed wi' him," quo Johnny. "We
stabled the horse and Jock had some horse beans in his pouch which he keepit chowing at like
sweeties. We gaed awa' to the grun'. The cavalry were there mounted to keep order. The officers
and Lord Eglinton were thegither. I was deputed by Jock to step forward to his lordship and tell him
to keep himsel' easy, as Jock was on the grun', and wad be forthcoming at the minute. The
English bully was nicely dressed wi' tight pantaloons on, a light silk jacket, and a nice light hunting
cap on the head o' him. He had on a pair o' red morocco slippers and silk stockings, and was as
souple as an eel. When it cam' within five minutes o' the time the Englishman was getting uneasy,
and aye speerin', ' Where's the man that's to run with me ? ' Jock by this time had edged gae an'
close to him, and at one of his inquiries said, ' Keep yoursel' quiet, man, I'm here.' Had you but
seen what a scunnerguts o' a face the Englishman put on him as he stood back frae Jock, and
exclaimed, ' It was a man I was to run against, and not a cannibal.' ' You'll maybe fin' before the
race be done that it s just a man ye ha'e to deal wi'.'
" At this moment Jock threw aff his jacket and waistcoat at ance, and threw them ower my arm.
Some o' the beans fell oot o' his pouch, and he says, ' Tak' care o' the beans, Johnny.' He lowsed
his blue trousers, and just let them fa' aff him. He had on a sma' sark below and a pair o' Nankeen
breeks, wi' his legs bare to the knees, his breast open, his towzie head, and the coal-gum nae mair
than aff his face. He was a strong contrast to the clean, neat, smart, jockey-like chield with whom
he was to contend. The English officers thought that his lordship had been for making diversion with
them and their man. Jock had gi'en notice to some o' his friends, that if he should tak' time to wade
the burn on the fifth time oot, they might wager onythung they liked on his head.
" The start took place, and awa' the Englishman bounded like a reindeer. I think that he was the
prettiest runner I ever saw. What a contrast atween the heavy lift and slovenly gait o' Jock- yet he
glided alang, and when about a hunner an' fifty yards o' the first turn out he met the Englishman
coming back. There was about three hunner yards lost already, the Englishman gi'ed a great jump
and clappet his thigh wi' his loof as Jock passed gaun oot, and said, ' Come
along, you Scotch---.' Jock keepit improving in steadiness and speed. The Englishman turning
soupler and slower on the fifth round gaun oot, Jock waded the burn, then sat
down on a stane and washed his feet, then to the road; so this time they cam' in thegither, and
started even the last bout as they did the first. The tables were noo fairly turned; Jock just passed
his man at the same place coming back where he was met the first time going out. Jock said,
'Come awa' you English---, for I'm in earnest noo.'
" Jock cam' in mair than three hunner yards in front of his rival, and great was the welcome from
even the English soldiers, officers and all. The cheers were deafening.
" Jock was the first to seize the heart-stricken runner by the hand and offer him sympathy for his
disappointment, letting him ken there was generally a high look before a fall.
" Aweel, Jock and me could ha'e been fou twenty times that day by the Englishmen alone. What
questions were put to Jock as to the sort of training he practised before running ! ' Oh,' said Jock, ' I
drive coals to the shore; it is capital practice for bringing up the wind.' Then as to what sort of food
he used? 'A pickle horse beans,' said Jock, 'is the feeding on ordinary days, but this day I ate a
stimpart o' potatoes and drank a pint o' sour milk before I cam awa'; it's fine cooling diet.'
"I can assure you I felt prouder o' the victory than even Jock himsel'. I mind weel the last race he
ran at Fastene'en. I held his claise on that occasion also. It was a three mile race and had to be
gaen smarter about, which was naething in Jock's favour. His antagonist at that time keepit close to
Jock's heels till it cam near the hinder end, and often he made a dart to pass him, but Jock, as if by
instinct, made a start at the same time, and keepit to the front. As they neared the winning post,
they came side for side, and what a shout the crowd made. I gaed blin'. I was standing within the
ring and close to the winning post. I really thought that Jock was beat, but he had got a catch of the
pole set up for testing the winner, and the opponent had a catch o' the outside o' Jock's hand, else
it had been a dead heat, but Jock having the pole gave him the victory. They both held on for a time,
and I think I see their earnest looks yet-it seemed as if nane o' them kent exactly what to think.
The judges said that Jock had the race. He still held the pole, and when I gaed forrit to him, he
looked in my face and said, 'Johnny, that was a wister for't. I never have been beat, and never will.
You ha'e seen my last race.' He kept his word. He had run eleven times and retired solvent in
reputation. "
I had once heard of a man in Kilmarnock who was the only one left as a relic of bygone days. He
alone could make a lead window. The exterior of his abode was modest in appearance, a thatch
house in the College Wynd; on the outside a small signboard, on which were written in small yellow
letters, " Cut Glass, Putty, and Cart Tickets sold here by Robert Stevenson." Simple as that
signboard might seem to some, it had a charm to me I had its owner's history frae Johnny Tamson.
Robin was a square-shouthered, firm-made man; had a stiff upright gait in his walk. He wore a light
blue coat wi' clear buttons on't, a buff waistcoat, cashmere breeks, and light blue rig-and-fur
stockings, wi' a clean apron rowed about his waist when out frae his wark. He had a square head,
wi' an open countenance, light blue een and sandy hair.
Johnny Roseburgh had a pair of cart tickets bespoke wi' Robin, and as it was essential that he
should have his name on his carts, conform to law, I was requested by Johnny to call on Robin and
get the tickets. I called, saw the great man, and made known my message. "And are ye servin' wi'
Mister Roxbury, my man?" I said no; that I was a shoemaker wi' Jamie Rowat. " Say Mr Rowat, my
man ! and as a frien' tak' my advice: pay particular attention to the intricacies o' the craft, as it is
only by being a superior workman that a tradesman is truly independent." Robin put the tickets
carefully up in paper with a ply between, remarking, " Noo, my man, tak' tent and no rub the ane on
the ither, as they are but green yet, and nae tradesman likes to see his wark hurt after he has been
at the pains to do it right. Do ye ken, my man, when I was a boy like you, I took pleasure in
pleasing my maister, and for my pains I ha'e reaped a reward. Although I'm like to be thought out o'
fashion in some things, there's no anither man in the toun, or I question in the shire, that will mak'
or mend a lead window but mysel. It requires baith head and han's to do that. Really things
ha'e ta'en an unco turn in my day. When I was a young chap the imitations of wood were a' done by
men. In wainscot I was unsurpassed. A man who could do a street door then was looked on as an
artist. I was the only man at one time who in this toun wad be intrusted with the finish o' a kirk door.
The reeds o' the wood were a' carefully outlined wi' a sma' pencil in sweet lines mair truthfu' than
showy. There was poetry about the painting business then that's no to be seen noo-a-days. Altho'
thou's but a laddie, cast thy e'e to the first 'prentice painter callant it's thy lot to fa' in wi' graining a
door on the street. Thou'll first see him beslabber the hale surface as wi' glaur; then wi' a spunge, a
bit cork, and an auld clout, and something like a bane kame, the creature will dight, slabber, an'
scart the surface a' like corduroy, and while he is thus unmeaningly engaged, wiggle-waggle the
head o him frae the ae side to the ither as if it were a genius. The maist o' the newfangled ways o'
working are found out by lazy creatures wha fa' ahin' at ae time and try to mak' it up at anither to
hide their slothfu'ness; and if ye were to offer them a hint at improvement, ten to ane but they wad
set up a chatter to you like ane o' John M'Crone's talking birds Every creature wha works without
principle is like ane wha rhymes wlthout reason. "
So said Robin; and whoever heard him speak cannot forget his eloquence. An honest innocence
stared out of him. A soft lisp, with a half-smothered laugh illuminating the countenance of my
instructor, left a friendly feeling on my mind, and I think of Robin as one of my early teachers
Robin convoyed me to the end of the College Wynd, whieh terminates in Bank Street, and, pointing
up to auld James Cunningham's house, remarked, "It's a wunnerfu' power which lies in
perseverance, when weel directed, and in the morning o' life it looks out in sma' things. Up in that
garret there was a shoemaker's 'prentice; he served his time wi' James Cunningham. He was baith
mischievous and industrious, and it used to be a great caper amang the callants langsyne trying to
hap on the ae fit till they wad eat a penny laif. The callant's name was Sawney Allan- and a
misleered journeyman wad wager ae night wi' Sawney, the time that auld James was at his tea,
that he wadna hap on the ae fit just noo till he wad eat the penny laif. 'Done,' quo' Sawney. The laif
was' got, and he up and at it. The hap, happin' on the floor was sending down the dust on his
maister's tea equipage, and he chappet on the laft; but the happin' gaed on. At last James cam' up
the stair, and, decent man, he was angry. When he looked in at the door, he said, quite fierce,
'What's ado here' The man wha set hIm on said, ' It's Sawney happin' for his supper. ' James was
rather upset at the earnestness with which the callant keepet happin' and eating, and he expressed
himsel' in a way no his ordinar': ' It seems to me as if that callant Sawney Allan wad hap to hell for
a penny laif.'
"The speech was recorded; and it was remarked that whatever Sawney started in he stuck to. He
rose by perseverance (changing his calling) to be one of the first shipowners in Greenock."
Such was Robin's history of Sawney Allan.