STARN: Scots Teaching and Resource Network
Back to Scenes from an Artist's Life contents
Scenes from an Artist's Life
Chapter 3
"You must, you shall, have tale and ode and hint,
This memory of mine contains a mint "PETER PINDAR.
AULD HIN-THE COUNTRY SHOEMAKER OF THE LAST CENTURY-THE
GAUNCHIN' WEAN-MATTHEW HAY'S DEVICE-AULD HIN'S DEATH
JOHN ROWAT AND MARY TAIT, HIS WIFE-JAMUCK, THEIR SON-
THE CONTRABAND TRADE AN ADVENTURE WITH THE EXCISEMAN.
WITH respect to the history of the house I had entered
as an inmate, I only heard now an' then some allu-
sion made to the best bits of him whom they styled Auld
Daddy - that was auld John Rowat's father, whose name was
James, but who by outsiders was always named as Auld Hin.
He was remarkable for being easily roused to fits of passion,
and when in those paroxysms he was troubled with a
stuttering, or gaunching, as it was termed. His domicile
once stood in a small corner on the side of the road which
passes over Dundonald hills to the Troon. It was on the
opposite side of the road from Willie Weir's house. Every
person conversant with the locality knows Willie Weir's
Hill: a Scotch fir tree, with a few stunted ashes, some
bourtree bushes, and the rowan, used to mark the spot for
years after the tenant had left it. All these and part of the
walls stood in my time; now nothing is left to tell of its
whereabouts.
The old man in his young days plied the gentle craft of
shoemaking, tanned his own leather, had a small patch of
ground, kept a cow, sow, and hens, and, according to report,
lived comfortable. There was in his day no opposition
nearer than Irvine, Monkton, Riccarton, or Kilmarnock.
Shoemakers at that time went a-bogging, as it was termed,
on the same principle as tailors whip the cat. They went to
farm houses, where the farmer either bought or tanned his
own leather. In those days men's shoes were charged half-a-crown
a pair. The first rise which Auld Hin ventured to make was to
John Findlay, cooper in Dundonald. John had a great big foot,
and this was named as a pretext for the rise. Auld John Rowat,
then a boy, was sent with the shoes and message. John Findlay
rather unceremoniously kicked the rear of the boy, and said-"
Tell your father, sir, that neither him nor any other man will
ever get twa an' ninepenee frae me for a pair o' shoon while I
keep my senses." I ha'e seen the same John Findlay paying to
the callant that he kicked the sum of twelve shillings; and every
time a new pair was trysted, the light of other days was brought
up.
Auld Hin was said to try his hand at the smuggling sometimes;
tobacco, tea, brandy, and foreign rum were the stock-in-trade. It
so happened that something had gone wrong where the honour of
the law was to be vindicated, and a sheriff-officer was sent with a
summons to warn Hin to compear at the court. Hin had been
aware of the coming of the man of law, and drew in the string by
which the sneck of the door was lifted. When that was the case
the finger used to be applied at a hole, and the sneck lifted. When
the officer chapped at the door, as he himself said, there was a
gaunchin' wean ahint the door, and it said-" Put in the fingie
and lift the latch-daddie's no in." The man did as he was bid, and
with a smack off went the first joint of his unfortunate fore
finger, and out at the hole came the callous invitation-"Put in
the tinnie fingie noo!" As one trial was enough, the man made
for the Hailee farm, and was nearly fainted when he arrived. He
got the finger rowed up, and was able to go home. It was said that
Hin had laid the shoemakers' knife to the finger and struck it
with the hammer.
How he came by the title of Hin was as follows:-At one time
when he had made some favourable calculations of his wind and
speed, he staked himself on the turf at Kilmarnock as a
competitor for money and honours at the annual races then held
at Fasten's e'en. James was his name at starting, and for a time he
led the race. Every spectator who knew
him shouted encouragement as he passed. However, as " the race
is not to the swift," a change gradually took place, and the first
became last, a position James now held, and was gratuitously
informed of the fact as he passed those who before had shouted
"Well done, James." It was now, "You're ahin', James." This so
often rung in his ears raised his wrath to the bursting-point, when
all of a sudden he stopped, and, in wild agony for want of breath
and utterance, he stood, stared, and stuttered out as well as he
could-" If I'm a-hin'-hin' 'ey day, I'll be a fo'-fo' 'ey morn."
From that moment the name of Auld Hin was more familiar
when speaking of his exploits than his own
Once upon a time David Blair, then farmer in Bogside, lost
some sacks, and by whatever means they had found their way into
the possession of Auld Hin, history sayeth not; and a prisoner
being entitled to the benefit of a doubt, we pass on. Hin was
apprehended as custodier of the sacks, taken to Ayr, and
incarcerated in the old jail. Matthew Hay, farmer in Holmes, went
down to Ayr, and, being a man of great influence, bailed Hin out.
When the time of trial came Matthew went with his man, and,
taking him into an inn before appearing in court, moulded his man
into a form rather new. He was said to have rather an odd
formation, wearing an excited expression of countenances with a
large head, a short body, shoulders inclining to rise, and extra long
legs and arms. Having this much to work on, Matthew set him
carefully into the shape of Richard III., with a high shoulder, a
humph back, and a crooked walk, leading him thus before the
lords. His lordship's address to him on leaving court went on to
say, that had it not been for his deformity and helpless look, he
certainly had sent him on board of a man-of-war; and that had it
not been for a gentleman of such standing having befriended him
and become surety for his future conduct, he had not got off so
easy.
When leaving the court, gratitude, a native quality, got the
better of the actor, and Hin stretched himself to his use and
wont, to thank his benefactor, who had to catch
him by the neck and bend him down again to the shape in the law
so lately had sympathised with him.
Many frivolous anecdotes were preserved of scenes where his
ill-nature had got the better of his good sense. He took an ill turn
one morning while supping his parritch. The neighbours were
brought in to see his hurried end, and while looking on in
speculative humility as to the necessity of being prepared for
such an event, Hin rallied, and his first thoughts were of his
parritch bowl, which he demanded should be brought. He clawed
the dish clean in presence of those who so lately seemed to feel
they had taken the last look in sadness, which was changed to
mirth. He lived for eight years after, and, strange to say, he
really died in the act of supping his parritch.
Some hundred years back John Rowat, Auld Hin's son, was
about to leave school, having received a liberal education, which
was intended to bring him before the world as a schoolmaster. But
it turned out otherwise, and he came forth heir to his father's
profession of shoemaker and tea-dealer. He was well read in
ancient and modern history. In his library were Rollin's Ancient
History, Stackhouse's history of the Bible, the works of Josephus,
Isaac Ambrose, Sturm's Rejections, Hervey's Meditations,
Baxter's Saints' Rest, and Watts' World to Come, Bunyan's
Pilgrim's Progress, Boston's Fourfold State, and Blair's Sermons,
with Plutarch's Lives of Great Men. John read a little every
evening, whether summer or winter. He held as a law that reading
and feeding were of the same family. To be evenly fed bodily or
mentally was better than a feast and fast. John was an authority
in the village. Many a historical dispute was referred to him. He
was an oracle, for what decision he gave was generally found to be
correct. John was a stern politician; had faith in the government
of the time, and a determined dread of, and lodged hate toward,
Radicals. The term thief and Radical were about equal terms with
him.
Mary Tait, his wife, was a woman single in heart, upright in
action, living above the flimsiness of fashion. All her clothes
were hame made, meant for wear and comfort. She
was a type of industry. Full of wise saws and modern instances,
her language and remarks were plain and shrewd. The duties of
to-day were never put off till to-morrow. Contented with her lot,
faithful to her charge, her cow and pig were cared for in due
season. The meals were ready at a minute for beast and body. She
spoke evil of none, and saw the best bits of everybody. She was
careful, yet liberal and just: a more single-hearted woman never
lived. She came aff Tarbolton side, and when she was a lassie she
herded kye at the Catheringale. Such were the old pair.
Jamuck, my master - such was his mothers name for him, "
our Jamuck "-was fifty years of age when I went to him. He
conducted the shoe trade, and was quite an original in character.
He had everybody's interest at heart, and took more interest in
ither folk's affairs than they were willing to thank him for. He
kept no secrets - not even his own. He visited certain houses in
the village daily; and few nights in the week but he was a giver
and gatherer of news at some farm house in the parish. He
changed his houses of call often, being often in the habble with
his tongue. He had to tell the right way of the same story many a
time, as he was often made the bearer of what was meant for
diversion; and the true way to make him haste to disseminate
knowledge was to tell him that it was a secret, and upon no
account to repeat it. He was often in love, deep and desperate,
yet he never saw how he could leave his father and mother. Filial
duty was deep-dyed in his heart; he partook strongly of his
mother's character.
The garret was the rallying-place for all the oddities of the
parish. Mischiefs were often planned there and carried out
elsewhere. In country places the mind would become stale
without some excitement.
Often have the old heroes of the smuggling campaigns fought
their battles o'er again in that garret, and often the feats of the
Highlandmen who dealt in smuggling at that time were revised.
The spirit of defiance seemed to be sown by the old and ripened
in the young.
Treachery, in all ages, has been a strong feature in man; and
informers were ever dreaded among the smugglers.
About the New Year of 1813, some ten casks of Highland whisky
had been lodged in the house of John Orr, innkeeper in Dundonald
A neighbour was blamed for lodging information with the excise
officers, who came from Kilmarnock on the Sabbath morning and
made a seizure. Pressing a horse and cart, they loaded their
treasure and took the road for town. The Highlandmen stood
among the assembled villagers, and saw their "bead nineteen,"
flavoured with peat reek, removed to a different market from
what they had intended. Rab Brown made a speech to them when
the cart had moved off, upbraiding them as cowards, to see three
men take away their property without at least an effort to save
some of it. " Give them chase for't," quo Rab, " and a wheen o' us
chaps will rin alang wi' you; they'll think that we're a'
Highlandmen thegither. Let us through the parks and intercept
them at the Gulliland. Let every man seize a stab out o' the
paling; they will think that they are guns. Howl and yell like
savages when you come near them. Here goes then !" and Rab
started the race, followed by a motley squad. The howling of so
many seemingly armed men struck terror to the men of law, and
they turned the horse back toward Dundonald, and laid on it even
with the broadsides of their cutlasses; and in their zeal for saving
the stuff forgot to look back, when all the casks but one had
fallen off the cart on to the road, a Highlandman having cut the
rope by which they were held on. Rab Brown had brought an old
axe at the start, and handed it to the highlander for the purpose
of disengaging the cargo. It was what is known as a stone
cart-one without sides. This last cask was hurried round to the
manse, where Dr Duncan resided- "Duncan deep," as designated
by Burns. The excisemen were chased into the manse, and one of
them gallantly clutched the cask off the cart, flung it on its side,
and with his foot pushed it before him into the door, then turning
and slashing right out with his cutlass in what might have been
death-dealing blows. A Highlander named Neil Stewart, who had
only one arm, faced the swordsman with his cudgel, and with one
grand upward smite made the cutlass part company with the hand
of its occupant, and fly as high as the slates. Such an achievement
brought forth a volley of cheering from the crowd, and the last cask
was kicked out of the door. It was eagerly seized on, and being taken
to a proper place, was used to regale the heroes who had so boldly
stood against law and order.
Such scenes are not witnessed now. The spirit which prompted
to such lawless daring is dead; a better state of mind lives.
John Orr lay twenty months in Ayr jail for this affair, as the
stuff was got in and about his house; and one exciseman swore
that he saw John at the deforcement, as it was called, while a
cloud of witnesses could have been got to swear that John was not
present, but was absent in the body lying drunk in a closet. It
took great interest to get John out even at that date. Colonel
Kelso's influence was used with the Duke of Portland, whose
influence was used in higher circles, and John regained his
freedom.