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Scenes from an Artist's Life
Chapter 5
'Whyles, on the strong-wing'd tempest flying
Tirlin' the kirks;
Whyles, in the human bosom prying
Unseen thou lurks."
BURNS.
SOME OLD HISTORIANS - THE POPULAR BELIEF IN WITCHES - BARN
FANNERS AND THE CHURCH - BASIL BLAIR AND VACCINATION-
JOHN PORTER, AND NANCY,HIS WIFE - THE MAD HARE - THE
MINISTER AND THE MUSICIAN - CROOK'S S CAT - MRS TAYLOR, THE
BANK STREET WITCH - JOBN MACADAM CONSULTS HER - DR
MACKINLAY REBUKES THE WITCH, AND PAYS FOR IT - BASIL
BLAIR'S PLAN FOR DISABLING GAUGERS - THE CONTRABAND TRADE
- TAM ALLISON, THE MODEL LIAR - JOSEY MILLS, THE POET - HIS
RETROSPECT - HIS CONTEST WITH OLD FAIRI.IE OF FAIRLIE - HIS
POEM ON THE SAME.
HAVING shown something of my own character as a boy, and
given portraits of the folk in the house where I had my home, I
may now introduce a few of the old historians who were in the
habit of visiting the garret.
Old John Macadam was a daily visitor; we looked for him
about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. This was his halfway house
to the smiddy. Old Basil Blair, when able, was a daily visitor also.
They were very different in mental power - Basil had a sly
hidden way about him; John an open and defiant power.
Witches had a local habitation and a name in some corners
about the place. Certain folk had seen things at certain places,
but they wad never yet tell what they saw. There seemed to be a
sort of mason-word about sights. Very few of the auld folk durst
candidly say that such things were not true. Grandfathers,
grandmothers, and auld maids had received such things as correct
from their forebears, and were in duty bound to hand them down.
I knew an elder in the parish, who, when he was in ordinary health, used to say
very gravely, " The less that we say on that subject the better."
Witches were mentioned in the Bible, and their presence there
was proof enough to him. I saw the auld man once rather
sharp-sighted with a dram, and he spak out freely.
This auld elder was a man of some strength of mind at times,
as he was the first in the parish who used fanners to dight his
corn, and for such transaction was put under the lesser
excommunication in the church. He was deemed unworthy to eat
God's bread, unless he was willing to wait for a wind from heaven
to winnow the grain. As he had applied to the devil for help, he
could not remain in communion with the church; and unless he
repented and laid aside his winnowing machine he would be put
under the greater excommunication, by being given over to the
devil and damnation for ever. William recanted for a time; but
forced wind gained ground in spite of church courts.
And so did vaccination. Basil Blair was the first man in the
parish who had a child inoculated with cow-pox, and for that he
also was put under the lesser excommunication, and subsequently
under the greater for still further tempting God Almighty by
sleeping with his said child, Mary Blair, in his bosom. Basil said
that they had put him out the kirk, and that he had the good
sense to stay out.
A very decent auld man and his wife occupied a sma' farm in
the vicinity of the village. John Porter and Nancy Gibson, his
wife, were industrious, quiet people, yet they were blamed for
being possessed of power to change their shape at pleasure.
One fine summer evening a hare made its appearance in the
glebe before the manse, and before a cloud of witnesses danced
round a cow which was grazing. The cow took a look at the hare,
and at that moment the hare sat up on its hind legs, becking and
bowing to the cow as if she had been its partner in a dance, then
round and round the cow again. Many were the surmises as to
what it was, or what it meant. Some said that it was either John
Porter or the wife. Some thought that it should be shot. Others
thought that the cow's milk was spoiled, and even the cow herself might be rendered
useless for life. Davie Murray, the precentor, walked away
quietly, went forward to the hare, lifted it in his arms, stroked its
head and neck. While some cried to him to thraw its neck, others
cried to break its leg, and then they wad see whether John Porter
or the wife had been the visitor. Some thought that they saw the
hare come straight frae Porterston, but on its way home it had
the slyness to tak' a different gate. Others thought that the first
milk taken frae the cow should be put in a pot and a rousing fire
put on, then on with the milk and boil it, with the lum stuffed,
the doors and windows shut, and they wad soon see whether John
or the wife cam' for a drink; such was the way to bring such
conduct to light. Davie Murray was much blamed for allowing
such a chance to escape so simply; and he argued, like a decent
man, that hares were subject to trouble as weel as ither folk, and
there might be a flow of blood to its head, and that was the
reason why he stroked its neck. He said he was as fond o' hare
soup as ony o' them, but that it would have been both cowardly
and mean to have taken any advantage of an unfortunate beast in
trouble.
The auld elder, when speaking on the subject, said, "I wadna
like to be uncharitable to either beast or body, but I ha'e my ain
thoughts about John Porter and his wife. The ither year I gaed to
the limekilns early in the mornings, and for several mornings
rinnin' I saw twa big hares eatin' my ryegerse. I halloo'd at them,
and they always ran doon by Porterston, and ae mornin' I cried, '
Shame on you, John.' Feel, that mornin' they sneaked doon ahint
the dyke and through their ain kail yard, and I think that they
crap in aneath the door. But whether I be right or wrang, I can
tell you that neither John nor the wife can look me in the face
frae that day to this. There will naebody put me oot o' the belief
that there hasna been things baith seen and heard that canna be
accounted for. I ha'e mind langsyne o'er there at the
Harpersecroft, some queer things took place in my young days. I
ha'e heard mysel' the muckle wheel gaun round up in the laft at
midnight, when there wasna a leevin' soul there to meddle wi't.
And I ha'e seen the cat in a stormy night
sit wi' its back to the fire watching the lum, the door, and the
window, time aboot, as if she had expected some unyearthly
visitor, and she wad at times put fleysome cries oot o' her. And I
ha'e seen the colley dog sneak ahint the guidman's chair, and
even creep in below it, during the time o' family worship; and I
ha'e seen him gurl and bark through his sleep, as if he had been
worrying some ither dog. Noo, I firmly believe that cats and dogs
see different frae the like o' us; and it's a great pity but everybody
wha changes their shape for base or mean purposes were worried
by them.
" I ha'e braw mind o' auld Mr Walker, the minister, being up at
the Harperscroft visiting. I think that it was the last time that he
was oot. When on his road hame he gaed into Willie Weir's, and
had a dram wi' twa three decent auld folk who were takin' a
chappin at the fireside. Some o' them wanted to convoy Mr
Walker hame, but he wadna let them, in case some might hint
that he had needed help. It was a bonnie night, although pit mirk.
A' was quiet, and at that lonely spot whaur the footpath turns aff
the road by the High Yards, near to the Markland Loch, a brisk
whistling commenced. Sometimes it seemed on this side o' the
dyke, and sometimes on the other. The decent auld minister was
very fond o' music, and sometimes he cracked his finger and
thumb by way o' keeping time. The tunes were a' new to him, but
they had a merry lilt, so that he often felt inclined to dance to
the music. He reached his own gate, where a rapid jig was struck
up resembling the tune ca'd Tullochgorum, at which the minister
could no longer refrain frae dancing. The music getting sweeter
and more rapid, in following the tones in measured step he felt
like one inspired, and till fairly exhausted never thought of
stopping. He had never thought of who had whistled so joyously
and gratuitously. When he found that he must stop, he shouted, '
Weel whistled, billy.' In a sair exhausted state he entered his ain
hoose. His ain folk hardly kent him. They thought that he had
been enjoying himsel' wi' a friend. He took his bed that night,
and never had a day to do weel after. He dwaumled till he died,
and the folk said it was because he had gi'en the deevel sic a kindly
name, and been sae easy overcome wi' his cantrips,
whereas he ought to have said, ' Get thee behind me, Satan,' and
lent a deaf ear to the charmer."
The day after the hare scene, John Macadam and Basil Blair
met in our garret. The story had to be settled. Basil thought that
it was queer, to say the least of it, and rather leaned to the side of
the elder who the night before had said his say. John Macadam
held the thing in high derision. Basil wanted to ken what could
possess the hare so to leave its haunts and habits as to dance
round the cow and beck and bow the way it did, and even to sit
till Davie Murray gaed forret and lifted it. Macadam said that it
might have a bit of a snare about its neck, which would send the
blood to its head, and account for its absence of mind. "What
mair than Crooks's cat ? They thought it had been witched, or an
ill e'e cast on't. Its head grew nearly as big as its body. The head
swelled and the body fell awn' and its tail grew as sma' as a
rattan's. The beast was gaun blin' Davie Wylie, the ploughman,
began to fin' its neck, and discovered a snare so tight drawn,
hooked and broken, that the poor cat had nearly died of
strangulation. It gaed frae its meat, the blood flowed to its head,
and the beast gaed through queer capers. Davie got the brass wire
clippet aff, and the poor cat regained its use and wont after a
time. Now," said John, " the hare was just as likely to have a bit
of a snare a boot its neck as the cat. No, no," said John, " I don't
believe in supernatural nonsense."
Basil made a dead set at John, and thought that he had him in
a snare. " D'ye mind, John, o' gaun to Mrs Taylor, the witch, wha
lived in the Bank Street o' Kilmarnock ? Ye mind o' gi'en her a
guinea for her advice, and ye mind how true she telt you? I like
to see a body consistent."
Auld John took a hearty laugh, and made a full confession of
the nature of his belief. John said that when the smuggling was in
its glory there were certain secret places for hiding the goods. "
Now," said John, " for the sake of protection it was necessary
that those places should be haunted. Had people not dreaded
those places at night, much might have been seen that was not
wanted. Curreath and Harperscroft were places where auld Lowrie
Weir had made different sets of brandy holes, so simple that ghosts, warlocks, and witches
were the best and cheapest guards against vagrants strolling
about at night with the intention to seek for hidden treasure.
Thieves among themselves were but too common, and their
reasoning was quite correct If their master thought fit to cheat
the law, what was the harm of cheating him? There was scarcely
a boat livered but there was a swearing of servants as to being
honest. Such, too, was the practice when anything went
amissing. Every one who had been employed was sworn to
say they had not done it."
Basil, getting impatient for light on John's belief, said, " I ken
a' that; but what about the spaewife ?"
" Weel, Basil, frae ye maun ken that, a cask o' brandy and a
box o' tea had gone astray one night, and as on other like
occasions nobody had done it, we were all sworn, and like honest
folk we a' cleared oursels. I had laid the stuff aside, thinking that
I might open a market for it on my ain account some day. The
way that we soothed our minds on the subject was this - we didna
steal the stuff, but just laid it aside for safety. I began to see that
I might be discovered were I to try to turn the stuff into cash, so
I thought as I had been at the trouble o' hiding it, I might as weel
hae a luckspenny at the giving it back. So I said that as I was
going to Kilmarnock, If the owner had no objections to give me
a guinea I would call on the sorceress, and see if she could give
any account of the stolen property. I got the money, and went
to town, of course. Josey Mills and I had a royal spree for three
days on the witch's fee. When I came home I no doubt had a
bleert appearance, all which I attributed to the fright that I had
got. I made the description so fearsome that I was sure no other
from the place would try the same experiment I told how I had
been put into a dark room, and that the smell of brimstone was
strong, the sounds unearthly, when on a sudden a dazzling blue
light showed me in a large mirror the Harperscroft and the
surrounding hills as distinct as they were to be seen in nature,
and that in a clump of whin bushes on the way to the Warliehill
there sat the cask on its end, and beside it the tea box. I was
asked if I felt satisfied, and having shouted ' Yes,' I fainted.
When I came to my self I went out of one fit into another. The old lady said were I
to give her another guinea she would show me the man with the
goods on his back as he took them to the place where I saw
them concealed. I said that I had seen plenty, but would never
reveal all that I had seen, neither could I describe all that I had
felt. It was the first and last time I had voluntarily sought the
help of the devil, and it would be a queer thing if I did not keep
my word.
"A deputation was sent direct to the whins which I named,
and strange to say there lay the treasure as described by the
Mirror of Mystery in the possession of the necromancer.
" This piece of diversion enriched the woman's reputation for
seeing into the future, and saved me from detection. It gave back
the property, after paying a tax or duty to an individual instead
of the Government.
" Many a different way," said John, " I have told the story,
never failing to add that nobody would ever know all I saw and
suffered on that occasion. It is one of those stories which tells
better o'er a dram than sitting dry-mouthed. There is an
inventive power in whisky, whereby you can put in more of the
horrible and awfu'.
" I got better off than the minister, who had the hardihood to
insult the decent woman to her face. This reverend divine,
whose ordination Burns has celebrated in his poems, in his zeal
for doing good and hurting the reputation of old Satan, called
one day on Mrs Taylor, and without preface began to abuse her
upon hearsay. She very properly thrust him out of doors; and he,
to bring her to a proper state of repentance, held up his hands
and called her an old necromancer. Witnesses were present. She
took the precaution to name them as such. A serious accusation
brought the divine to think that his zeal for upsetting the
artillery of the archfiend would be safer settled with some of the
root of all evil, which was extracted from his pouch to save a
lawsuit."
John said that he had a capital fuddle, and the woman's
reputation was enriched without her feelings being hurt.
" I have seen ghosts often," said John, " but they always
vanish into their proper elements when I get sober. A good
fuddle and want of sleep are sure to give new light to an inquiring
mind."
Basil had a sma' mind compared wi' John, yet he had faced the
gaugers in open fight while in the service of Matthew Hay. He
was a sturdy-shapet middle-sized man, and could wield the cudgel
with felling power, and, as he said, kent a' the sair bits to touch
on. There was nae use in hitting flesh wi' a stick - a sword did
best for that; but a crack o'er the knuckles, or on the elbow and
the shin-banes, were fine for putting guagers frae the use o' the
sword. It was a great matter when they could neither hit you nor
run after you.
Basil had a great many snatches of hidden history, wherein he
indicated his own private and peculiar views, letting out a small
portion now and again merely to show that he was an authority;
whereas John Macadam was a giant in form, and nothing less in
mind. He had wrought hard in the contraband trade in the
interest and service of his brother James, who left some wealth
to his family, a something worth noticing. Only two families in
the parish were left comfortable with the proceeds of illegal
traffic-James Gibson's, of Leemiside, was the other. Such was the
declaration of auld John, who, as he Stated, might have been
wealthy, but he chose to swallow his share as he got it.
John was the friend of odd characters. Tam Allison, for
instance, was held in high esteem by him. John said that Tam
was a man that you could depend on. He had a strong aversion to
what was termed liars of the present day. Tam said that they
were a set of low blackguards, unworthy of the title. He looked
on himself as the only genuine liar in the parish. When he did
tell a lie it was a pure one out of hill and heap, without a word of
truth in the story. He hated all mixing, either truth and
falsehood, or water and whisky.
Josey Mills, John said, was a jewel of a companion. He wrote
poetry and drank whisky with a fluency that seemed natural.
There was nothing affected about him. He sang his own history,
did what pleased himself, and knew no superior while he daunered
through the world. He both sung and spoke what he thought,
uncaring consequences.
In his auld days he took a back look at times, and thus expressed
himself in song--
"Josey was a farmer's son,
And played the rogue when he was young;
But now poor Josey's heart's turned wae,
He must work sore it's every day."
Then he lilted as a tune to his history-
" O'er Craigie hill and far awa',
The win' has blawn my hopes awa'."
John said that Josey was a genius of the first water, but that he
had been ower sair mixed wi' whisky. One time when in the
service of Mr Fairlie, then of Fairlie, near Old Rome, Josey was a
ditcher on the estate, and wrought at so much a day. Old John
Muir, the foreman, had strict charges from old Fairlie to see that
Josey had all the ditches in proper order, so that the water might
not lie on the ploughed land, as seedtime was near Josey, having
had strict charges as to what was wanted, felt an inward want, and
to have it gratified went away to Old Rome, and there
commenced to saturate his own clay, regardless of the fields or
coming harvest. Eleven days passed, cash was done and credit
out. John Muir had received orders during Josey's absence to send
him to h- when he came back. John, like a decent man, told his
master that was a power which he did not possess. " How does he
pass his time?" inquired Fairlie. "Makin' poetry and telling
stories about his past life, where he always stands forth his own
hero." "Send him about his business when he comes back, should
he have the audacity to do so." " We're sure o' him back," quo
John, "when nae ither body will keep him."
At the end of the eleven days Josey came back with his spade
o'er his shouther, chaunting "O'er Craigie hills and far awa'," the
same as if he had never been absent. John Muir gently informed
him that he was to go away, as he was neither needed now nor
wanted. " Wha said sae ?" quo Josey. " Mr Fairlie himsel'." " oh,
then," said Josey, " I'll see about this." And, spade o'er his
shouther, he went to the front door of Fairlie House, and rung
the bell with a birr. When the butler came and saw Josey, he tried to hoot him
away; but no, Josey was a gentleman come to see his master, and
he desired to be announced. All reasoning was lost on the guest
of the great man. The noise reached the ear of Mr Fairlie, who
rung his bell and demanded the cause of such disturbance. The
order was short-that Josey was to go about his business, as he
could not get an audience. Josey shouted up the stair, "Whaur am
I to gang, and what am I to do ?" " Go and sing ballads, and be
d--d to you." " Thank you, sir, for your friendly advice,"
retorted Josey. I'll go and compose a song for the occasion, and
will first sing it at your door; then, should I have your patronage
and permission, I will enlighten the country with your
character."
So saying, the poet departed; and ere the sun had sunk o'er the
peaks of Goatfell Josey was back at the door, not requiring the
aid of the bell. As old Fairlie sat at dinner, Josey's voice rung in
his ears his personal history in rather glaring colours. Whether
true or false, he dared to treat his hero with a sight of his own
portrait as painted by him.
It is said that angels and devils can be soothed with song. Old
Fairlie, it would seem, had been neither; for he came down
boiling with wrath, threatening if Josey did not desist and
remove himself, he would shoot him like a dog at his door.
Josey took a look of his man, threw off his old hat and coat,
then looked a match for his master, and thus graciously
addressed him--"Old Fairlie, I have always known you, sir, as a
tyrant and coward. I don't want to dirty my hands on you, sir;
but go, bring a pair of pistols, and I will fight you like a man, in
front of your own house."
This was too much for Fairlie, who ordered Josey to go to his
work and endeavour to behave better for time to come.
Josey came away far more happy than if he had killed his man
with a leaden bullet. The bullets of Josey's verse were more
wounding than killing. Fairlie made overtures for the copyright
of the song, which afforded Josey another fuddle when his drouth
returned.
This Mr Fairlie was factor on the estate of Eglinton, and
then factors had, as they still have, to stand much harsh
criticism behind their backs. The songs as a whole, I only saw
once. I have heard Rab Brown sing the first and last verses,
which he said embodied all that was worthy and devilish-rather
a strange contrast.
The song opens with the place of abode and position held in
the world by old Fairlie. His end is pointed out without
ceremony, and the place proposed for the poet tenanted by the
master. We will end this chapter with a specimen of Josey's
poetry.
SONG,
COMPOSED AT THE REQUZST OF ALEXANDER FAIRLIE, ESQ., OF FAIRLIE
HOUSE, FACTOR TO THE RlGHT HON. THE EARL OF EGLINTON, BY HIS
DEGRADED, DlSHONOURED, AND DISCHARGED SERVANT, JOSEY MILLS.
On the green banks of Irvine lives Fairlie of Fairlie,
Who oft speaks of good things, and does them but rarely.
Lord Eglinton's tenants they walk very barely,
Being robb'd of their riches by Fairlie of Fairlie
. . . . . . .
It's in the low regions, oh ! how he will fret,
When there is no farming, or farms for to set !
The devil and him they will scold it right sairly,
And H-- will resound with the shrieks of auld Fairlie !