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TALES AND SKETCHES,
BY
THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.
INCLUDING
THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, WINTER EVENING TALES,
SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR, &c., &c.
AND SEVERAL PIECES NOT BEFORE PRINTED,
WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ENGRAVINGS,
CHIEFLY FROM REAL SCENES,
BY D. 0. HILL, E. S. A.
VOL. V.
BLACKIE & SON, QUEEN STREET, GLASGOW;
SOUTH COLLEGE STREET, EDINBURGH:
AND WARWICK SQUARE, LONDON.
MDCCCXXXVII.


GLASGOW:
PRINTED BY W, G. BLACKIE, & co.,
VILLAFIELD.


CONTENTS OF VOL. V.
Page.
Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Fanatic. . 5
Some Remarkable Passages in the Life of an Edinburgh
Baillie. . .
.- 210
. . . .
Julia M‘Kenzie. . . . . . 339
339





TALES AND SKETCHES,
BY
THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.
INCLUDING
THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, WINTER EVENING TALES,
SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR, &c., &c.
AND SEVERAL PIECES NOT BEFORE PRINTED,
WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ENGRAVINGS,
CHIEFLY FROM REAL SCENES,
BY D. 0. Hill, Ezy., Ś, t.
3
,
VOL. V.
BLACKIE & SON, QUEEN STREET, GLASGOW ;
SOUTH COLLEGE STREET, EDINBURGH:
AND WARWICK SQUARE, LONDON.
MDCCCXXXVII.


GLASGOW:
PRINTED BY W, G. BLACKIE, & co.,
VILLAFIELD.


CONTENTS OF VOL. V.
Page.
Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Fanatic. . 5
Some Remarkable Passages in the Life of an Edinburgh
Baillie,
..210
Julia MKenzie. . . . . . 339





THE
PRIVATE MEMOIRS
AND
CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC:
WITH A DETAIL OF CURIOUS TRADITIONARY FACTS, AND
OTHER EVIDENCE, BY THE EDITOR.
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
It appears from tradition, as well as some parish registers
still extant, that the lands of Dalcastle (or Dalchastel, as
it is often spelled) were possessed by a family of the name
of Colwan, about one hundred and fifty years ago, and
for at least a century previous to that period. That fa-
mily was supposed to have been a branch of the ancient
family of Colquhoun, and it is certain that from it spring
the Cowans that spread towards the Border. I find,
that in the year 1687, George Colwan succeeded his
uncle of the same name, in the lands of Dalchastel and
Baigrennan ; and this being all I can gather of the family
from history, to tradition I must appeal for the remainder
of the motley adventures of that house. But of the mat.
ter furnished by the latter of these powerful monitors I
have no reason to complain : it has been handed down
to the world in unlimited abundance ; and I am certain,
that in recording the hideous events which follow, I am
only relating to the greater part of the inhabitants of at
least four counties of Scotland, matters of which they
were before perfectly well informed.
Α .


TIR EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
This George was a rich man, or supposed to be so,
and was married, when considerably advanced in life to
the sole heiress and reputed daugliter of a Baillie Orde,
of Glasgow. This proved a conjunction any thing but
agreeable to the parties contracting. It is well known,
that the reformation principles had long before that time
taken a powerful hold of the hearts and affections of the
people of Scotland, although the feeling was by no ineans
general, or in equal degrees ; and it so happened that
this married couple felt completely at variance on the
subject. Granting it to have been so, one would have
thought that the laird, owing to his retired situation,
would have been the one that inclined to the stern doc-
trines of the reformers; and that the young and gay dame
from the city would have adhered to the free principles
cherished by the court party, and indulged in rather to
extremity, in opposition to their severe and carping con-
temporaries.
The contrary, however, happened to be the case,
The laird was what his country neighbours called “ a
droll, careless chap," with a very limited proportion of
the fear of God in his heart, and very nearly as little of
the fear of man. The laird had not intentionally wronged
or offended either of the parties, and perceived not the
necessity of deprecating their vengeance. He had hither-
to believed that he was living in most cordial terms with
the greater part of the inhabitants of the earth, and with
the powers above in particular : but woe be unto him
if he was not soon convinced of the fallacy of such
heedless security ! for his lady was the most severe and
gloomy of all bigots to the principles of the Reformation.
Here were not the tenets of the great reformers, but
theirs mightily overstrained and deformed. Theirs was
an unguent hard to be swallowed ; but hers was that un-
guent erbittered and overheated until nature could not
longer bear it. She had imbibed her ideas from the
doctrines of one flaming predestinarian divine alone ; and
these were so rigid, that they became a stumblingblock
to many of his brethren, and a mighty handle for the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
enemies of his party to turn the machine of the state
against them.
The wedding festivities at Dalcastle partook of all the
gaiety, not of that stern age, but of one previous to it.
There were feasting, dancing, piping, and singing: the
liquors were handed around in great fulness, the ale in
large wooden bickers, and the brandy in capacious horns
of oxen. The laird gave full scope to his homely glee.
He danced,-he snapped his fingers to the music,-clap-
ped his hands and shouted at the turn of the tune. He
saluted every girl in the hall whose appearance was any
thing tolerable, and requested of their sweethearts to take
the same freedom with his bride, by way of retaliation.
But there she sat at the head of the hall in still and bloom.
ing beauty, absolutely refusing to tread a single measure
with any gentleman there. The only enjoyment in which
she appeared to partake, was in now and then stealing a
word of sweet conversation with her favourite pastor
about divine things ; for he had accompanied her home,
after marrying her to her husband, to see her fairly set.
tled in her new dwelling. He addressed her several
times by her new name, Mrs Colwan ; but she turned
away her head disgusted, and looked with pity and con-
tempt towards the old inadvertent sinner, capering away
in the height of his unregenerated mirth. The minister
perceived the workings of her pious mind, and thence-
forward addressed her by the courteous title of Lady
Dalcastle, which sounded somewhat better, as not coup-
ling her name with one of the wicked ; and there is too
great reason to believe, that for all the solemn vows she
had come under, and these were of no ordinary binding,
particularly on the laird's part, she at that time despised,
if not abhorred him, in her heart.
The good parson again blessed her, and went away.
She took leave of him with tears in her eyes, entreating
him often to visit her in that heathen land of the Amo-
rite, the Hittite, and the Girgashite: to which he assen: -
ted, on many solemn and qualifying conditions,--and
then the comely bride retired to her chamber.


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
It was customary, in those days, for the bride's-man
and maiden, and a few select friends, to visit the new
married couple after they had retired to rest, and drink a
cup to their healths, their happiness, and a numerous pos-
terity. But the laird delighted not in this : he wished
to have his jewel to himself; and, slipping away quietly
from his jovial party, he retired to his chamber to his be-
loved, and bolted the door. He found her engaged with
the writings of the Evangelists, and terribly demure. The
laird went up to caress her ; but she turned away her
head, and spoke of the follies of aged men, and some-
thing of the broad way that leadeth to destruction. The
laird did not thoroughly comprehend this allusion ;
but being considerably flustered by drinking, and dis-
posed to take all in good part, he only remarked, as he
took off his shoes and stockings, “that whether the way
was broad or narrow, it was time that they were in their
bed."
“ Sure, Mr. Colwan, you won't go to bed to-night, at
such an important period of your life, without first saying
prayers for yourself and ine."
When she said this, the laird had his head down almost
to the ground, loosing his shoe-buckle ; but when he
heard of prayers, on such a night, he raised his face sud-
denly up, which was all over as flushed and red as a rose,
and answered,
“ Prayers, mistress! Lord help your crazed head, is
this a night for prayers !"
He had better have held his peace. There was such
a torrent of profound divinity poured out upon him, that
the laird became ashamed, both of himself and his new-
made spouse, and wist not what to say; but the brandy
helped him out.
“ It strikes me, my dear, that religious devotion
would be somewhat out of place to-night,” said he.
6. Allowing that it is ever so beautiful, and ever so be.
neficial, were we to ride on the rigging of it at all times,
would we not be constantly making a farce of it: it would
be like reading the Bible and the jest-book, verse about,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
and would render the life of man a medley of absurdity
and confusion.”
But against the cant of the bigot or the hypocrite, no
reasoning can aught avail. If you would argue until the
end of life, the infallible creature must alone be right.
So it proved with the laird. One Scripture text followed
another, not in the least connected, and one sentence of
the profound Mr. Wringhim's serinons after another, prov.
ing the duty of family worship, till the laird lost patience,
and, tossing himself into bed, said, carelessly, that he
would leave that duty upon her shoulders for one
night.
The meek mind of Lady Dalcastle was somewhat dis-
arranged by this sudden evolution. She felt that she
was left rather in an awkward situation. However, to'
show her unconscionable spouse that she was resolved to
hold fast her integrity, she kneeled down and prayed in
terms so potent, that she deemed she was sure of mak-
ing an impression on him. She did so; for in a short
time the laird began to utter a response so fervent, that
she was utterly astounded, and fairly driven from the
chain of her orisons. He began, in truth, to sound a
nasal bugle of no ordinary calibre,—the notes being little
inferior to those of a military trumpet. The lady tried
to proceed, but every returning note from the bed burst
on her ear with a louder twang, and a longer peal, till
the concord of sweet sounds became so truly pathetic,
that the meek spirit of the dame was quite overcome ; and
after shedding a flood of tears, she arose from her knees,
and retired to the chimney-corner with her Bible in her
lap, there to spend the hours in holy meditation till such
time as the inebriated trumpeter should awaken to a
sense of propriety.
The laird did not awake in any reasonable time; for,
he being overcome with fatigue and wassail, his sleep,
became sounder, and his Morphean measures more in-
tense. These varied a little in their structure ; but the
general run of the bars sounded something in this way,--
“ Hic-hoc wlieew !” It was most profoundly ludicrous ;
A 2


10
THĘ EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
and could not have missed exciting risibility in any one,
save a pious, a disappointed, and humbled bride.
The good dame wept bitterly. She could not for her
life go and awaken the monster, and request him to
make room for her: but she retired somewhere; for the
Jaird, on awaking next morning, found that he was still
lying alone. His sleep had been of the deepest and
most genuine sort; and all the time that it lasted, he had
never once thought of either wives, children, or sweet-
hearts, save in the way of dreaming about them; but as
his spirit began again by slow degrees to verge towards
the boundaries of reason, it became lighter and more
buoyant from the effects of deep repose, and his dreams
partook of that buoyancy, yea, to a degree hardly ex-
pressible. He dreamed of the reel, the jig, the strath-
spey, and the corant; and the elasticity of his frame was
such, that he was bounding over the heads of the maid-
ens, and making his feet skimmer against the ceiling, en-
joying, the while, the most ecstatic emotions. These
grew too fervent for the shackles of the drowsy god to
restrain. The nasal bugle ceased its prolonged sounds
in one moment, and a sort of hectic laugh took its place.
“ Keep it going,-play up, you devils !" cried the laird,
without changing his position on the pillow. But this
exertion to hold the fiddlers at their work, fairly awaken-
ed the delighted dreamer; and though he could not re-
frain from continuing his laugh, he at length, by tracing
out a regular chain of facts, came to be sensible of his
real situation. “Rabina, where are you? What's be-
come of you, my dear?” cried the laird. But there was
no voice, nor any one that answered or regarded. He
flung open the curtains, thinking to find her still on her
knees, as he had seen her; but she was not there, either
sleeping or waking. “Rabina! Mrs. Colwan !” shout-
ed he, as loud as he could call, and then added, in the
same breath, “God save the king, I have lost my wife!"
He sprung up and opened the casement: the daylight
was beginning to streak the east, for it was spring, and
the nights were short, and the mornings very long. The


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
laird half dressed himself in an instant, and strode through
every room in the house, opening the windows as he
went, and scrutinizing every bed and erery corner. He
came into the hall where the wedding festival had been
held ; and, as he opened the various window-boards, loving
couples flew off like hares surprised too late in the morn-
ing among the early braird. “Hoo-boo! Fie, be fright-
ened !” cried the laird. “ Fie, rin like fools, as if ye
were caught in an ill turn!”—His bride was not among
them ; so he was obliged to betake himself to farther
search. “She will be praying in some corner, poor woc
man,” said he to himself. “It is an unlucky thing this
praying. But, for my part, I fear I have behaved very
ill; and I must endeavour to make amends.'
The laird continued his search, and at length found
his beloved in the same bed with her Glasgow cousin,
who had acted as bride's-maid. “You sly and malevo.
lent imp,” said the laird ; “you have played me such a
trick when I was fast asleep! I have not known a frolic
so clever, and, at the same time, so severe. Come along,
you baggage you !"
“Sir, I will let you know, that I detest your princi-
ples and your person alike," said she. “It shall never
be said, Sir, that my person was at the control of a
heathenish man of Belial,-a dangler among the daugh-
ters of women,-a promiscuous dancer,—and a player at
unlawful games. Forego your rudeness, Sir, I say, and de-
part away from my presence and that of my kinswoman."
" Come along, I say, my charming Rab. If you were
the pink of all puritans, and the saint of all saints, you
are my wife, and must do as I command you.”
“Sir, I will sooner lay down my life than be subject-
ed to your godless will ; therefore, I say, desist, and be-
gone with you.”
But the laird regarded none of these testy sayings :
he rolled her in a blanket, and bore her triumphantly
away to his chamber, taking care to keep a fold or two
of the blanket always rather near to her mouth, in case
of any outrageous forthcoming of noise.





THE
PRIVATE MEMOIRS
AND
CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC:
WITH A DETAIL OF CURIOUS TRADITIONARY FACTS, AND
OTHER EVIDENCE, BY THE EDITOR.
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
It appears from tradition, as well as some parish registers
still extant, that the lands of Dalcastle (or Dalchastel, as
it is often spelled) were possessed by a family of the name
of Colwan, about one hundred and fifty years ago, and
for at least a century previous to that period. That fa-
mily was supposed to have been a branch of the ancient
family of Colquhoun, and it is certain that from it spring
the Cowans that spread towards the Border. I find,
that in the year 1687, George Colwan succeeded his
uncle of the same name, in the lands of Dalchastel and
Baigrennan ; and this being all I can gather of the family
from history, to tradition I must appeal for the remainder
of the motley adventures of that house. But of the mat.
ter furnished by the latter of these powerful monitors I
have no reason to complain : it has been handed down
to the world in unlimited abundance ; and I am certain,
that in recording the hideous events which follow, I am
only relating to the greater part of the inhabitants of at
least four counties of Scotland, matters of which they
were before perfectly well informed.


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
This George was a rich man, or supposed to be so,
and was married, when considerably advanced in life to
the sole heiress and reputed daughter of a Baillie Orde,
of Glasgow. This proved a conjunction any thing but
agreeable to the parties contracting. It is well known,
that the reformation principles had long before that time
taken a powerful hold of the hearts and affections of the
people of Scotland, although the feeling was by no means
general, or in equal degrees ; and it so happened that
this married couple felt completely at variance on the
subject. Granting it to have been so, one would have
thought that the laird, owing to his retired situation,
would have been the one that inclined to the stern doc-
trines of the reformers; and that the young and gay dame
from the city would have adhered to the free principles
cherished by the court party, and indulged in rather to
extremity, in opposition to their severe and carping con-
temporaries.
The contrary, however, happened to be the case,
The laird was what his country neighbours called "a
droll, careless chap," with a very limited proportion of
the fear of God in his heart, and very nearly as little of
the fear of man. The laird had not intentionally wronged
or offended either of the parties, and perceived not the
necessity of deprecating their vengeance. He had hither-
to believed that he was living in most cordial terms with
the greater part of the inhabitants of the earth, and with
the powers above in particular: but woe be unto him
if he was not soon convinced of the fallacy of such
heedless security ! for his lady was the most severe and
gloomy of all bigots to the principles of the Reformation.
Hers were not the tenets of the great reformers, but
theirs mightily overstrained and deformed. Theirs was
an unguent hard to be swallowed ; but hers was that un-
guent embittered and overheated until nature could not
longer bear it. She had imbibed her ideas from the
doctrines of one flaming predestinarian divine alone; and
these were so rigid, that they became a stumblingblock
to many of his brethren, and a mighty handle for the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
enemies of his party to turn the machine of the state
against them.
The wedding festivities at Dalcastle partook of all the
gaiety, not of that stern age, but of one previous to it.
There were feasting, dancing, piping, and singing: the
liquors were handed around in great fulness, the ale in
large wooden bickers, and the brandy in capacious horns
of oxen. The laird gave full scope to his homely glee.
He danced, he snapped his fingers to the music,-clap-
ped his hands and shouted at the turn of the tune. He
saluted every girl in the hall whose appearance was any
thing tolerable, and requested of their sweethearts to take
the same freedom with his bride, by way of retaliation.
But there she sat at the head of the hall in still and bloom-
ing beauty, absolutely refusing to tread a single measure
with any gentleman there. The only enjoyment in which
she appeared to partake, was in now and then stealing a
word of sweet conversation with her favourite pastor
about divine things ; for he had accompanied her home,
after marrying her to her husband, to see her fairly set.
tled in her new dwelling. He addressed her several
times by her new name, Mrs Colwan ; but she turned
away her head disgusted, and looked with pity and con-
tempt towards the old inadvertent sinner, capering away
in the height of his unregenerated mirth. The minister
perceived the workings of her pious mind, and thence-
forward addressed her by the courteous title of Lady
Dalcastle, which sounded somewhat better, as not coup-
ling her name with one of the wicked ; and there is too
great reason to believe, that for all the solemn vows she
had come under, and these were of no ordinary binding,
particularly on the laird's part, she at that time despised,
if not abhorred him, in her heart. .
The good parson again blessed her, and went away.
She took leave of him with tears in her eyes, entreating
him often to visit her in that heathen land of the Amo-
rite, the Hittite, and the Girgashite : to which he assen.
ted, on many solemn and qualifying conditions,-and
then the comely bride retired to her chamber.


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
It was customary, in those days, for the bride's-man
and maiden, and a few select friends, to visit the new
married couple after they had retired to rest, and drink a
cup to their healths, their happiness, and a numerous pos.
terity. But the laird delighted not in this : he wished
to have his jewel to himself; and, slipping away quietly
from his jovial party, he retired to his chamber to his be-
loved, and bolted the door. He found her engaged with
the writings of the Evangelists, and terribly demure. The
laird went up to caress her ; but she turned away her
head, and spoke of the follies of aged men, and some-
thing of the broad way that leadeth to destruction. The
laird did not thoroughly comprehend this allusion;
but being considerably flustered by drinking, and dis-
posed to take all in good part, he only remarked, as he
took off his shoes and stockings, “ that whether the way
was broad or narrow, it was time that they were in their
bed."
“ Sure, Mr. Colwan, you won't go to bed to-night, at
such an important period of your life, without first saying
prayers for yourself and ine."
When she said this, the laird had his head down almost
to the ground, loosing his shoe-buckle ; but when he
heard of prayers, on such a night, he raised his face sud-
denly up, which was all over az flushed and red as a rose,
and answered,
“ Prayers, mistress ! Lord help your crazed head, is
this a night for prayers !"
He had better have held his peace. There was such
a torrent of profound divinity poured out upon him, that
the laird became ashamed, both of himself and his new-
made spouse, and wist not what to say, but the brandy
helped him out.
" It strikes me, my dear, that religious devotion
would be somewhat out of place to-night," said he.
6. Allowing that it is ever so beautiful, and ever so be.
neficial, were we to ride on the rigging of it at all times,
would we not be constantly making a farce of it: it would
be like reading the Bible and the jest-book, verse about,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
and would render the life of man a medley of absurdity
and confusion."
But against the cant of the bigot or the hypocrite, no
reasoning can aught avail. If you would argue until the
end of life, the infallible creature must alone be right.
So it proved with the laird. One Scripture text followed
another, not in the least connected, and one sentence of
the profound Mr. Wringhim's serions after another, prov.
ing the duty of family worship, till the laird lost patience,
and, tossing himself into bed, said, carelessly, that he
would leave that duty upon her shoulders for one
night.
The meek mind of Lady Dalcastle was somewhat dis-
arranged by this sudden evolution. She felt that she
was left rather in an awkward situation. However, to
show her unconscionable spouse that she was resolved to
hold fast her integrity, she kneeled down and prayed in
terms so potent, that she deemed she was sure of mak-
ing an impression on him. She did so; for in a short
time the laird began to utter a response so fervent, that
she was utterly astounded, and fairly driven from the
.chain of her orisons. He began, in truth, to sound a
nasal bugle of no ordinary calibre, -the notes being little
inferior to those of a military trumpet. The lady tried
to proceed, but every returning note from the bed burst
on her ear with a louder twang, and a longer peal, till
the concord of sweet sounds became so truly pathetic,
that the meek spirit of the dame was quite overcome ; and
after shedding a flood of tears, she arose from her knees,
and retired to the chimney-corner with her Bible in her
lap, there to spend the hours in holy meditation till such
time as the inebriated trumpeter should awaken to a
sense of propriety.
The laird did not awake in any reasonable time; for,
he being overcome with fatigue and wassail, his sleep,
became sounder, and his Morphean measures more in-
tense. These varied a little in their structure ; but the
. general run of the bars sounded something in this way,
“ Hic-hoc wlieew !" It was most profoundly ludicrous ;
A 2


10
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
and could not have missed exciting risibility in any one,
save a pious, a disappointed, and humbled bride.
The good dame wept bitterly. She could not for her
life go and awaken the monster, and request him to
make room for her: but she retired somewhere; for the
laird, on awaking next morning, found that he was still
lying alone. His sleep had been of the deepest and
most genuine sort; and all the time that it lasted, he had
never once thought of either wives, children, or sweet-
hearts, save in the way of dreaming about them; but as
his spirit began again by slow degrees to verge towards
the boundaries of reason, it became lighter and more
buoyant from the effects of deep repose, and his dreams
partook of that buoyancy, yea, to a degree hardly ex-
pressible. He dreamed of the reel, the jig, the strath-
spey, and the corant; and the elasticity of his frame was
such, that he was bounding over the heads of the maid-
ens, and making his feet skimmer against the ceiling, en-
joying, the while, the most ecstatic emotions. These
grew too fervent for the shackles of the drowsy god to
restrain. The nasal bugle ceased its prolonged sounds
in one moment, and a sort of hectic laugh took its place.
“ Keep it going,--play up, you devils !" cried the laird,
without changing his position on the pillow. But this
exertion to hold the fiddlers at their work, fairly awaken-
ed the delighted dreamer ; and though he could not re-
frain from continuing his laugh, he at length, by tracing
out a regular chain of facts, came to be sensible of his
real situation. “Rabina, where are you? What's be-
come of you, my dear ?" cried the laird. But there was
no voice, nor any one that answered or regarded. He
flung open the curtains, thinking to find her still on her
knees, as he had seen her; but she was not there, either
sleeping or waking. " Rabina! Mrs. Colwan !” shout-
ed he, as loud as he could call, and then added, in the
same breath, “ God save the king ,----I have lost my wife!"
He sprung up and opened the casement: the daylight
was beginning to streak the east, for it was spring, and
the nights were short, and the mornings very long. The


12
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
The next day at breakfast the bride was long in mak-
ing her appearance. Her maid asked to see her ; but
George did not choose that any body should see her but
himself: he paid her several visits, and always turned
the key as he came out. At length breakfast was ser-
ved; and during the time of refreshment the laird tried
to break several jokes; but it was remarked, that they
wanted their accustomed brilliancy, and that his nose was
particularly red at the top.
Matters, without all doubt, had been very bad between
the new-married couple; for in the course of the day
the lady deserted her quarters, and returned to her
father's house in Glasgow, and after having been a night
on the road; stage-coaches and steam-boats having then
no existence in that quarter. Though Baillie Orde had
acquiesced in his wife's asseveration regarding the like-
ness of their only daughter to her father, he never loved
or admired her greatly; therefore this behaviour nothing
astounded him. He questioned her strictly as to the
grievous offence committed against her; and could dis-
cover nothing that warranted a procedure so fraught with
disagreeable consequences. So, after mature delibera-
tion, the baillie addressed her as follows:-
“Ay, ay, Raby!. An' sae I find that Dalcastle has
actually refused to say prayers with you when you order-
ed him; an' has guidit you in a rude indelicate manner
outstepping the respect due to my daughter,-as my
daughter. But wi' regard to what is due to his own
wife, of that he's a better judge nor me. However,
since he has behayed in that manner to my daughter, I
shall be revenged on him for aince; for I shall return
the obligation to ane nearer to him: that is, I shall take
pennyworths of his wife,-an' let him lick at that.”
“ What do you mean, Sir ?" said the astonished damsel.
“I mean to be revenged on that villain Dalcastle," said
he, “for what he has done to my daughter. Come
hither, Mrs. Colwan, you shall pay for this.”
So saying, the baillie began to inflict corporeal punish-
ment on the runaway wife. His strokes were not indeed


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
13
very deadly, but he made a mighty flourish in the inflic-
tion, pretending to be in a great rage only at the Laird of
Dalcastle. “ Villain that he is !” exclaimed he, “I shall
teach him to behave in such a manner to a child of mine,
be she as she may; since I cannot get at himself, I shall
lounder her that is nearest to him in life. Take you
that, and that, Mrs. Colwan, for your husband's imperti-
nence!”
The poor afflicted woman wept and prayed, but the
baillie would not abate aught of his severity. After
fuming, and beating her with many stripes, far drawn,
and lightly laid down, he took her up to her chamber,
five stories high, locked her in, and there he fed her on
bread and water, all to be revenged on the presumptuous
Laird of Dalcastle ; but ever and anon, as the baillie
came down the stair from carrying his daughter's meal,
he said to himself, “ I shall make the sight of the laird the
blithest she ever saw in her life.”
Lady Dalcastle got plenty of time to read, and pray,
and meditate; but she was at a great loss for one to dis-
pute with about religious tenets; for she found, that
without this advantage, about which there was a perfect
rage at that time, her reading, and learning of Scripture
texts, and sentences of intricate doctrine, availed her
nought; so she was often driven to sit at her casement
and look out for the approach of the heathenish Laird of
Dalcastle.
That hero, after a considerable lapse of time, at length
made his appearance. Matters were not hard to adjust;
for his lady found that there was no refuge for her in her
father's house; and so, after some sighs and tears, she ac-
companied her husband home. For all that had passed,
things went on no better. She would convert the laird
in spite of his teeth : the laird would not be convert-
ed. She would have the laird to say family prayers, both
morning and evening: the laird would neither pray
morning nor evening. He would not even sing psalms,
and kneel beside her, while she performed the exercise ;
neither would he converse at all times, and in all places,


14
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
about the sacred mysteries of religion, although his lady
took occasion to contradict flatly every assertion that he
made, in order that she might spiritualize him by draw-
ing him into argument.
The laird kept his temper a long while, but at length
his patience wore out; he cut her short in all her futile
attempts at spiritualization, and mocked at her wire-drawn
degrees of faith, hope, and repentance. He also dared
to doubt of the great standard doctrine of absolute pre-
destination, which put the crown on the lady's christian
resentment. She declared her helpmate to be a limb of
Antichrist, and one with whom no regenerated person
could associate. She therefore bespoke a separate estab-
lishment, and before the expiry of the first six months, the
arrangements of the separation were amicably adjusted.
The upper, or third story of the old mansion-house, was
awarded to the lady for her residence. She had a sepa-
rate door, a separate stair, a separate garden, and walks
that in no instance intersected the laird's ; so that one
would have thought the separation complete. They had
each their own parties, selected from their own sort of
people; and though the laird never once chafed himself
about the lady's companies, it was not long before she
began to intermeddle about some of his.
“ Who is that fat bouncing dame that visits the laird
so oſten, and always by herself !” said she to her maid
Martha one day.
“ O dear, mem, how can I ken ? We're banished frae
our acquaintances here, as weel as frae the sweet gospel
ordinances.'
" Find me out who that jolly dame is, Martha. You,
who hold communion with the household of this ungod-
ly man, can be at no loss to attain this information. I
observe that she always casts her eye up toward our
windows, both in coming and going ; and I suspect that
she seldom departs from the house empty-handed.”
That same evening Martha came with the information,
that this august visitor was a Miss Logan, an old and in-
timate acquaintance of the laird's, and a very worthy res.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
15
pectable lady, of good connections, whose parents had
lost their patrimony in the civil wars.
“ Ha! very well !” said the lady ; “ very well, Mar-
tha ! But nevertheless, go thou and watch this respect.
able lady's motions and behaviour the next time she
comes to visit the laird,--and the next after that. You
will not, I see, lack opportunities."
Martha's information turned out of that nature, that
pra yers were said in the uppermost story of Dalcastle.
ho use against the Canaanitish woman, every night and
ev ery morning; and great discontent prevailed there,
even to anathemas and tears. Letter after letter was
dispatched to Glasgow; and at length, to the lady's great
consolation, the Rev. Mr Wringhim arrived safely and
devoutly in her elevated sanctuary Marvellous was
the conversation between these gifted people. Wring-
him had held in his doctrines that there were eight dif-
ferent kinds of Faith, all perfectly distinct in their oper.
ations and effects. But the lady, in her secluded state,
had discovered other five,-making thirteen in all : the
adjusting of the existence or fallacy of these five faiths
served for a most enlightened discussion of nearly seven-
teen hours ; in the course of which the two got warm in
their arguments, always in proportion as they receded
from nature, utility, and common sense.Wringhim at
length got into unwonted fervour about some disputed
point between one of these faiths and TRUST ; when the
lady, fearing that zeal was getting beyond its wonted bar-
rier, broke in on his vehement asseverations with the fol-
lowing abrupt discomfiture : " But, Sir, as long as I re-
member, what is to be done with this case of open and
avowed iniquity ?”
The minister was struck dumb. He leaned him back
on his chair, stroked his beard, hemmed-considered,
and hemmed again; and then said, in an altered and
softened tone,-" Why, that is a secondary considera-
jion ; you mean the case between your husband and Miss
Logan?”
" The same, Sir. I am scandalised at such intima-


16
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
cies going on under my nose. The sufferance of it is a
great and crying evil."
• Evil, madam, may be either operative, or passive.
To them it is an evil, but to us none. We have no more
to do with the sins of the wicked and unconverted here,
than with those of an infidel Turk; for all earthly bonds
and fellowships are absorbed and swallowed up in the
holy community of the Reformed Church. However, if
it is your wish, I shall take him to task, and reprimand
and humble him in such a manner, that he shall be
ashamed of his doings, and renounce such deeds for ever,
out of mere self-respect, though all unsanctified the heart,
as well as the deed, may be. To the wicked, all things
are wicked ; but to the just, all things are just and
right.”
" Ah, that is a sweet and comfortable saying, Mr.
Wringhim! How delightful to think that a justified
person can do no wrong! Who would not envy the
liberty wherewith we are made free? Go to my husband,
that poor unfortunate, blindfolded person, and open his
eyes to his degenerate and sinful state ; for well are you
fitted to the task.”
" Yea, I will go in unto him, and confound him. I
will lay the strong holds of sin and Satan as flat before
my face, as the dung that is spread out to fatten the land.”
“ Master, there's a gentleman at the fore-door wants a
private word o' ye.”
“ Tell him I'm engaged : I can't see any gentleman
to-night. But I shall attend on him to-morrow as soon
as he pleases.”
“ He's coming straight in, Sir.- Stop a wee bit, Sir,
my master is engaged. He cannot see you at present,
Sir.”
"Stand aside, thou Moabite ! my mission admits of
no delay. I come to save him from the jaws of des-
truction !”
“ An that be the case, Sir, it maks a wide difference ;
an', as the danger may threaten us a', I fancy I may as
weel let ye gang by as fight wi'ye, sin' ye seem sae intent
TERET


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
17
on't. The man says he's comin' to save ye, an canna
stop, Sir. Here he is.”
The laird was going to break out into a volley of
wrath against Waters, his servant; but before he got a
word pronounced, the Rev. Mr. Wringhim had stepped
inside the room, and Waters had retired, shutting the
door behind him.
No introduction could be more mal-a-propos : it is im-
possible; for at that very moment the laird and Arabella
Logan were both sitting on one seat, and both looking
on one book, when the door opened. “What is it, Sir?”
said the laird fiercely.
“A message of the greatest importance, Sir,” said the
divine, striding unceremoniously up to the chimney,
turning his back to the fire, and his face to the culprits.
-“I think you should know me, Sir ?" continued he,
looking displeasedly at the laird, with his face half turn.
ed round.
“I think I should,” returned the laird. 6 You are a
Mr. How's-tey-ca’-him, of Glasgow, who did me the
worst turn ever I got done to me in my life. You gen-
try are always ready to do a man such a turn. Pray,
Sir, did you ever do a good job for any one to counterbal.
ance that ? for, if you have not, you ought to be "
“ Hold, Sir, I say! None of your profanity before
me. If I do evil to any one on such occasions, it is be-
cause he will have it so; therefore, the evil is not of my
doing. I ask you, Sir,- before God and this witness,
I ask you, have you kept solemnly and inviolate the vows
which I laid upon you that day? Answer me?"
“ Has the partner whom you bound me to, kept hers
inviolate ? Answer me that, Sir ? None can better do
so than you, Mr. How's-tey-ca'-you.”
“ So, then, you confess your backslidings, and avow
the profligacy of your life. And this person here, is, I
suppose, the partner of your iniquity,—she whose beauty
hath caused you to err! Stand up, both of you, till I
rebuke you, and show you what you are in the eyes of
God and man.'
v.


18
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
“In the first place, stand you still there, till I tell you
what you are in the eyes of God and man. You are, Sir,
a presumptuous, self-conceited pedagogue, a stirrer up of
strife and commotion in church, in state, in families, and
communities. You are one, Sir, whose righteousness con-
sists in splitting the doctrines of Calvin into thousands
of undistinguishable films, and in setting up a system of
justifying grace against all breaches of all laws, moral or
divine. In short, Sir, you are a mildew,--a canker-worm
in the bosom of the Reformed Church, generating a dis-
ease of which she will never be purged, but by the shed.
ding of blood. Go thou in peace, and do these abomina-
tions no more; but humble thyself, lest a worse reproof
come upon thee."
Wringhim heard all this without flinching. He now
and then twisted his mouth in disdain, treasuring up.
mean time, his vengeance against the two aggressors ;
for he felt that he had them on the hip, and resolved to
pour out his vengeance and indignation upon them.
Sorry am I, that the shackles of modern decorum res.
train me from penning that famous rebuke ; fragments of
which have been attributed to every divine of old no.
toriety throughout Scotland. But I have it by heart :
and a glorious morsel it is to put into the hands of cer-
tain incendiaries. The metaphors were so strong, and
80 appalling, that Miss Logan could only stand then a
very short time: she was obliged to withdraw in con-
fusion. The laird stood his ground with much ado,
though his face was often crimsoned over with the hues
of shame and anger. Several times he was on the point
of turning the officious sycophant to the door ; but good
manners, and an inherent respect that he entertained for
the clergy, as the immediate servants of the Supreme
Being, restrained him.
Wringhim, perceiving these symptoms of resentment,
took them for marks of shame and contrition, and pushed
his reproaches farther than ever divine ventured to do in
a similar case. When he had finished, to prevent fur-
ther discussion, he walked slowly and majestically out of


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
19
the apartment, making his robes to swing behind him in
a most magisterial manner; he being without doubt, elat.
ed with his high conquest. He went to the upper story,
and related to his metaphysical associate his wonderful
success; how he had driven the dame from the house in
tears and deep confusion, and left the backsliding laird in
such a quandary of shame and repentance, that he could
neither articulate a word, nor lift up his countenance.
The dame thanked him most cordially, lauding his friend-
ly zeal and powerful eloquence; and then the two again
set keenly to the splitting of hairs, and making distinc-
tions in religion where none existed.
They being both children of adoption, and secured
from falling into snares, or any way under the power of
the wicked one, it was their custom, on each visit, to sit
up a night in the same apartment, for the sake of sweet
spiritual converse; but that time, in the course of the
night, they differed so materially on a small point, some.
where between justification and final election, that the
mninister, in the heat of his zeal, sprung from his seat,
paced the floor, and maintained his point with so much
ardour, that Martha was alarmed, and thinking they were
going to fight, and that the minister would be a hard
match for her mistress, she put on some clothes, and
twice left her bed and stood listening at the back of the
door, ready to burst in should need require it. Should
any one think this picture overstrained, I can assure him
that it is taken from nature and from truth ; but I will
not likewise aver, that the theologist was neither crazed
nor inebriated. If the listener's words were to be re-
lied on, there was no love, no accommodating principle
manifested between the two, but a fiery burning zeal, re-
lating to points of such minor importance, that a true
Christian would blush to hear them mentioned, and the
infidel and profane make a handle of them to turn our
religion to scorn.
Great was the dame's exultation at the triumph of her
beloved pastor over her sinful neighbours in the lower
parts of the house; and she boasted of it to Martha in


20
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
high-sounding terms. But it was of short duration; for,
in five weeks after that, Arabella Logan came to reside
with the laird as his house-keeper, sitting at his table,
and carrying the keys as mistress-substitute of the man.
sion. The lady's grief and indignation were now raised
to a higher pitch than ever; and she set every agent to
work, with whom she had any power, to effect a separa-
tion between these two suspected ones. Remonstrance
was of no avail ; George laughed at them who tried such
a course, and retained his house-keeper, while the lady
gave herself up to utter despair ; for, though she would
not consort with her husband herself, she could not en-
dure that any other should do so.
But, to countervail this grievous offence, our saintly
and afflicted dame, in due time, was safely delivered of a
fine boy, whom the laird acknowledged as his son and
heir, and had him christened by his own name, and nur-
sed in his own premises. He gave the nurse permission
to take the boy to his mother's presence if ever she
should desire to see him ; but, strange as it may appear,
she never once desired to see him from the day that he
was born. The boy grew up, and was a healthful and
happy child ; and, in the course of another year, the lady
presented him with a brother. A brother he certainly
was, in the eye of the law, and it is more than probable
that he was his brother in reality. But the laird thought
otherwise ; and, though he knew and acknowledged that
he was obliged to support and provide for him, he refused
to acknowledge him in other respects. He neither would
countenance the banquet, nor take the baptismal vows on
him in the child's name ; of course, the poor boy had to
live and remain an alien from the visble church for a
year and a day; at which time, Mr Wringhim out of
pity and kindness, took the lady herself as sponsor for the
boy, and baptized him by the name of Robert Wring-
him,—that being the noted divine's own name.
George was brought up with his father, and educated
partly at the parish-school, and partly at home, by a tu.
tor hired for the purpose. He was a generous and kind.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
21
hearted youth; always ready to oblige, and hardly ever
dissatisfied with any body. Robert was brought up with
Mr Wringhim, the laird paying a certain allowance for
him yearly; and there the boy was early inured to all
the sternness and severity of his pastor's arbitrary and
unyielding creed. He was taught to pray twice every
day, and seven times on Sabbath days; but he was only
to pray for the elect, and, like David of old, doom all
that were aliens from God to destruction. He had never,
in that family into which he had been as it were adopted,
heard ought but evil spoken of his reputed father and
brother; consequently he held them in utter abhorrence,
and prayed against them every day, often “ that the old
hoary sinner might be cut off in the full flush of his ini.
quity, and be carried quick into hell; and that the young
stem of the corrupt trunk might also be taken from a
world that he disgraced, but that his sins might be par-
doned, because he knew no better.”
Such were the tenets in which it would appear young
Robert was bred. He was an acute boy, an excellent
learner, had ardent and ungovernable passions, and withal,
a sternness of demeanour from which other boys shrunk.
He was the best grammarian, the best reader, writer,
and accountant in the various classes that he attended,
and was fond of writing essays on controverted points
of theology, for which he got prizes, and great praise
from his guardian and mother. George was much be-
hind him in scholastic acquirements, but greatly his su-
perior in personal prowess, form, feature, and all that
constitutes gentility in deportment and appearance. The
laird had often manifested to Miss Logan an earnest wish
that the two young men should never meet, or at all
events that they should be as little conversant as possi-
ble; and Miss Logan, who was as much attached to
George as if he had been her own son, took every pre-
caution, while he was a boy, that he should never meet
with his brother; but as they advanced towards man-
hood, this became impracticable. The lady was removed
from her apartments in her husband's house to Glasgow,
B 2


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
23
ed him from manual chastisement, he spared no acrimony,
and delighted in the chagrin and anger of those with whom
he contended. But he was sometimes likewise of real use
to the heads of the Presbyterian faction, and therefore
was admitted to their tables, and of course conceived
himself a very great man.
His ward accompanied him ; and very shortly after their
arrival in Edinburgh, Robert, for the first time, met with
the young laird his brother, in a match at tennis. The
prowess and agility of the young squire drew forth the
loudest plaudits of approval from his associates, and his
own exertion alone carried the game every time on the
one side, and that so far as all along to count three for
their one. The hero's name soon ran round the circle,
and when his brother Robert, who was an onlooker,
learned who it was that was gaining so much applause, he
came and stood close beside him all the time that the
game lasted, always now and then putting in a cutting
remark by way of mockery.
George could not help perceiving him, not only on
account of his impertinent remarks, but he, moreover,
stood so near him that he several times impeded him in
his rapid evolutions, and of course got himself shoved
aside in no very ceremonious way. Instead of making
him keep his distance, these rude shocks and pushes, ac-
companied sometimes with hasty curses, only made him
cling the closer to this king of the game. He seemed
determined to maintain his right to his place as an on-
looker, as well as any of those engaged in the game, and
if they had tried him at an argument, he would have
carried his point: or perhaps he wished to quarrel with
this spark of his jealousy and aversion, and draw the
attention of the gay crowd to himself by these means; for,
like his guardian, he knew no other pleasure but what
consisted in opposition. George took him for some im-
pertinent student of divinity, rather set upon a joke than
any thing else. He perceived a lad with black clothes,
and a methodistical face, whose countenance and eye he
disliked exceedingly, several times in his way, and that


24
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
was all the notice he took of him the first time they two
met. But the next day, and every succeeding one, the
same devilish-looking youih attended him as constantly
as his shadow; was always in his way as with intention
to impede him, and ever and anon his deep and malignant
eye met those of his elder brother with a glance so fierce
that it sometimes startled him.
The very next time that George was engaged at ten-
nis, he had not struck the ball above twice till the same
intrusive being was again in his way. The party played
for considerable stakes that day, namely, a dinner and
wine at the Black Bull tavern ; and George, as the hero
and head of his party, was much interested in its honour ;
consequently, the sight of this moody and hellish-looking
student affected him in no very pleasant manner. “ Pray,
Sir, be so good as keep without the range of the ball,"
said he.
“ Is there any law or enactment that can compel me
to do so ?” said the other, biting his lip with scorn.
“If there is not, they are here that shall compel you,"
returned George : “so, friend, I rede you to be on your
guard.”
As he said this, a flush of anger glowed in his hand-
some face, and flashed from his sparkling blue eye ; but
it was a stranger to both, and momently took its depar.
ture. The black-coated youth set up his cap before,
brought his heavy brows over his deep dark eyes, put
his hands in the pockets of his black plush breeches, and
stepped a little farther into the semi-circle, immediately
on his brother's right hand, than he had ever ventured
to do before. There he set himself firm on his legs,
and, with a face as demure as death, seemed determined
to keep his ground. He pretended to be following the
ball with his eyes; but every moment they were glan-
cing aside at George. One of the competitors chanced
to say rashly, in the moment of exultation, “ That's a
d fine blow, George !" On which the intruder
took up the word, as characteristic of the competitors,
and repeated it every stroke that was given, making such
d


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
25
a ludicrous use of it, that several of the onlookers were
compelled to laugh immoderately; but the players were
terribly nettled at it, as he really contrived, by dint of
sliding in some canonical terms, to render the competi.
tors and their game ridiculous.
But matters at length came to a crisis that put them
beyond sport. George, in flying backward to gain the
point at which the ball was going to light, came inadvert-
ently so rudely in contact with this obstreperous inter-
loper, that he not only overthrew him, but also got a
grievous fall over his legs; and, as he arose, the other
made a spurn at him with his foot, which, if it had hit to
its aim, would undoubtedly have finished the course of
the young laird of Dalcastle and Balgrennan. George,
being irritated beyond measure, as may well be conceiv.
ed, especially at the deadly stroke aimed at him, struck
the assailant with his racket, rather slightly, but so that
his mouth and nose gushed out blood ; and, at the same
time, he said, turning to his cronies," Does any of
you know who the infernal puppy is ?”
“Do you not know, Sir?” said one of the onlookers,
a stranger : “the gentleman is your own brother, Sir
- Mr Robert Wringhim Colwan!”
“ No, not Colwan, Sir," said Robert, putting his hands
in his pockets, and setting himself still farther forward
than before,—“not a Colwan, Sir ; henceforth I dis-
claim the name."
“ No, certainly not,” repeated George: “ my mo.
ther's son you may be,—but not a Colwan! There you
are right.” Then turning round to his informer, he said,
“ Mercy be about us, Sir! is this the crazy minister's son
from Glasgow ?”
This question was put in the irritation of the moment ;
but it was too rude, and too far out of place, and no one
deigned any answer to it. He felt the reproof, and felt
it deeply ; seeming anxious for some opportunity to make
an acknowledgment, or some reparation.
In the mean time, young Wringhim was an object to
all of the uttermost disgust. The blood flowing from


26
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
his mouth and nose he took no pains to stem, neither
did he so much as wipe it away ; so that it spread over
all his cheeks, and breast, even off at his toes. In that
state did he take up his station in the middle of the com-
petitors ; and he did not now keep his place, but ran
about, impeding every one who attempted to make at the
ball. They loaded him with execrations, but it availed
nothing ; he seemed courting persecution and buffetings,
keeping stedfastly to his old joke of damnation, and mar-
ring the game so completely, that, in spite of every ef-
fort on the part of the players, he forced them to stop
their game, and give it up. He was such a rueful-look-
ing object, covered with blood, that none of them had
the heart to kick him, although it appeared the only
thing he wanted ; and as for George, he said not another
word to him, either in anger or reproof.
When the game was fairly given up, and the party
were washing their hands in the stone fount, some of
them besought Robert Wringhim to wash himself; but
he mocked at them, and said, he was much better as he
was. George, at length, came forward abashedly toward
him, and said, "I have been greatly to blame, Robert,
and am very sorry for what I have done. But, in the
first instance, I erred through ignorance, not knowing
you were my brother, which you certainly are; and, in
the second, through a momentary irritation, for which I
am ashamed. I pray you, therefore, to pardon me, and
give me your hand.
As he said this, he held out his hand toward his pol.
luted brother ; but the froward predestinarian took not
his from his breeches' pocket, but lifting his foot, he gave
his brother's hand a kick. “ I'll give you what will suit
such a hand better than mine," said he, with a sneer. And
then, turning lightly about, he added,—“Are there to
be no more of these
d d fine blows, gentlemen? For
shame, to give up such a profitable and edifying game!"
“ This is too bad,” said George. “But, since it is thus,
I have the less to regret.” And, having made this general
remark, he took no more note of the uncouth aggressor,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
27
But the persecution of the latter terminated not on the
play-ground: he ranked up among them, bloody and
disgusting as he was, and, keeping close by his brother's
side, he marched along with the party all the way to
the Black Bull. Before they got there, a great num-
ber of boys and idle people had surrounded them, hoot-
ing and incommoding them exceedingly, so that they
were glad to get into the inn; and the unaccountable
monster actually tried to get in alongst with them, to
make one of the party at dinner. But the innkeeper
and his men, getting the hint, by force prevented him
from entering, although he attempted it again and again,
both by telling lies and offering a bribe. Finding he
could not prevail, he set to exciting the mob at the door
to acts of violence; in which he had like to have suc-
ceeded. The landlord had no other shift, at last, but to
send privately for two officers, and have him carried to
the guard house; and the hilarity and joy of the party
of young gentlemen, for the evening, was quite spoiled,
by the inauspicious termination of their game.
The Rev. Robert Wringhim was now to send for, to
release his beloved ward. The messenger found him at
table, with a number of the leaders of the Whig faction,
the Marquis of Annandale being in the chair ; and the
prisoner's note being produced, Wringhim read it aloud,
accompanying it with some explanatory remarks. The
circumstances of the case being thus magnified and dis-
torted, it excited the utmost abhorrence, both of the
deed and the perpetrators, among the assembled faction.
They declaimed against the act as an unnatural attempt
on the character, and even the life, of an unfortunate
brother, who had been expelled from his father's house.
And, as party spirit was the order of the day, an attempt
was made to lay the burden of it to that account. In
short, the young culprit got some of the best blood of
the land to enter as his securities, and was set at liberty.
But when Wringhim perceived the plight that he was in,
he took him, as he was, and presented him to his honour-
able patrons. This raised the indignation against the


28
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE,
young laird and his associates a thousand fold, which
actually roused the party to temporary madness. They
were, perhaps, a little excited by the wine and spirits
they had swallowed; else a casual quarrel between two
young men, at tennis, could not have driven them to such
extremes. But certain it is, that from one at first arising
to address the party on the atrocity of the offence, both
in a moral and political point of view, on a sudden there
were six on their feet, at the same time, expatiating on
it; and, in a very short time thereafter, every one in the
room was up, talking with the utmost vociferation, all on
the same subject, and all taking the same side in the de.
bate.
In the midst of this confusion, some one or other is.
sued from the house, which was at the back of the
Canongate, calling out, " A plot, a plot! Treason, tres.
son! Down with the bloody incendiaries at the Black
Bull !"
The concourse of people that were assembled in Edin.
burgh at that time was prodigious ; and as they were all
actuated by political motives, they wanted only a ready.
blown coal to set the mountain on fire. The evening
being fine, and the streets thronged, the cry ran from
mouth to mouth through the whole city. More than
that, the mob that had of late been gathered to the door
of the Black Bull, had, by degrees, dispersed ; but, they
being young men, and idle vagrants, they had only spread
themselves over the rest of the street to lounge in search
of farther amusement : consequently, a word was suffi.
cient to send them back to their late rendezvous, where
they had previously witnessed something they did not
much approve of.
The master of the tavern was astonished at seeing the
mob again assembling; and that with such hurry and
noise, But his inmates being all of the highest respect-
ability, he judged himself sure of protection, or, at least,
of indemnity. He had two large parties in his house at
the time ; the largest of which was of the Revolutionist
faction. The other consisted of our young tennis-play.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
29
ers, and their associates, who were all of the Jacobite
order ; or, at all events, leaned to the Episcopal side.
The largest party were in a front-room; and the attack
of the mob fell first on their windows, though rather with
fear and caution. Jingle went one pane; then a loud
hurra ; and that again was followed by a number of
voices, endeavouring to restrain the indignation from
venting itself in destroying the windows and to turn it
on the inmates. The Whigs, calling the landlord, in-
quired what the assault meant: he cunningly answered,
that he suspected it was some of the youths of the Cava-
lier, or High-Church party, exciting the mob against
them. The party consisted mostly of young gentlemen,
by that time in a key to engage in any row; and, at all
events, to suffer nothing from the other party, against
whom their passions were mightily inflamed.
The landlord, therefore, had no sooner given them
the spirit-rousing intelligence, than every one, as by ins-
tinct, swore his own natural oath, and grasped his own
natural weapon. A few of those of the highest rank
were armed with swords, which they boldly drew; those
of the subordinate orders immediately flew to such weap-
ons as the room, kitchen, and scullery afforded :—such
as tongs, pokers, spits, racks, and shovels ; and breath-
ing vengeance on the prelatic party, the children of An-
tichrist and the heirs of d-n-t-n! the barterers of
the liberties of their country, and betrayers of the most
sacred trust,- thus elevated, and thus armed, in the cause
of right, justice, and liberty, our heroes rushed to the
street, and attacked the mob with such violence, that
they broke the mass in a moment, and dispersed their
thousands like chaff before the wind. The other party of
young Jacobites, who sat in a room farther from the front,
and were those against whom the fury of the mob was
meant to have been directed, knew nothing of this se-
cond uproar, till the noise of the sally made by the
Whigs assailed their ears ; being then informed that the
mob had attacked the house on account of the treatment
they themselves had given to a young gentlemen of the
с


30
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
adverse faction, and that another jovial party had issued
from the house in their defence, and was now engaged
in an unequal combat, the sparks likewise flew to the
field to back their defenders with all their prowess, with-
out troubling their heads about who they were.
A mob is like a spring-tide in an eastern storm, that
retires only to return with more overwhelming fury.
The crowd was taken by surprise, when such a strong
and well-armed party issued from the house with so great
fury, laying all prostrate that came in their way. Those
who were next to the door, and were, of course, the
first whom the imminent danger assailed, rushed back-
ward among the crowd with their whole force. The
Black Bull standing in a small square half way between
the High Street and the Cowgate, and the entrance to it
being by two closes, into these the pressure outward was
simultaneous, and thousands were moved to an in volun-
tary fight they knew not why.
But the High Street of Edinburgh, which they soon
reached, is a dangerous place in which to make an open
attack upon a mob. And it appears that the entrances
to the tavern had been somewhere near to the Cross, on
the south side of the street; for the crowd fled with
great expedition, both to the east and west, and the con-
querors, separating themselves as chance directed, pur-
sued impetuously, wounding and maiming as they flew.
But, it so chanced, that before either of the wings had
followed the flying squadrons of their enemies for the
space of a hundred yards each way, there was not an
enemy to pursue! the multitude had vanished like so
many thousands of phantoms! What could our heroes
do ?- Why, they faced about to return toward their
citadel, the Black Bull. But that feat was not so easily,
nor so readily accomplished, as they divined. The un-
numbered alleys on each side of the street had swallowed
up the multitude in a few seconds ; but from these they
were busy reconnoitring; and, perceiving the deficiency
in the number of their assailants, the rush from both
sides of the street was as rapid, and as wonderful, as the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
31
disappearance of the crowd had been a few minutes be-
fore. Each close vomited out its levies, and these bet-
ter armed with missiles than when they sought it for a
temporary retreat. Woe then to our two columns of
victorious Whigs! The mob actually closed around them
as they would have swallowed them up ; and, in the
mean while, shower after shower of the most abominable
weapons of offence were rained in upon them. If the
gentlemen were irritated before, this inflamed them still
farther ; but their danger was now so apparent, they
could not shut their eyes on it, therefore, both par-
ties, as if actuated by the same spirit, made a desperate
effort to join, and the greater part effected it; but some
were knocked down, and others were separated from
their friends, and blithe to become silent members of the
mob.
The battle now raged immediately in front of the
closes leading to the Black Bull; the small body of Whig
gentlemen was hardly bested, and it is likely would have
been overcome and trampled down every man, had they
not been then and there joined by the young Cavaliers;
who, fresh to arms, broke from the wynd, opened the
head of the passage, laid about them manfully, and thus
kept up the spirits of the exasperated Whigs, who were
the men in fact that wrought the most deray among the
populace.
The town-guard was now on the alert ; and two com-
panies of the Cameronian regiment, with the Hon. Captain
Douglas, rushed down from the Castle to the scene of
action ; but, for all the noise and hubbub that these caus-
ed in the street, the combat had become so close and in-
veterate, that numbers of both sides were taken prisoners
fighting hand to hand, and could scarcely be separated
when the guardsmen and soldiers had them by the necks.
Great was the alarm and confusion that night in Edin-
burgh ; for every one concluded that it was a party scuf-
Ale, and, the two parties being so equal in power, the
most serious consequences were anticipated. The agita-
tion was so prevailing, that every party in the town, great


32
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
and small, was broken up ; and the lord-commissioner
thought proper to go to the council-chamber himself,
even at that late hour, accompanied by the sheriffs of
Edinburgh and Linlithgow, with sundry noblemen besides,
in order to learn something of the origin of the affray.
For a long time the court was completely puzzled.
Every gentleman brought in exclaimed against the treat-
ment he had received, in most bitter terms, blaming a
mob set on him and his friends by the adverse party; and
matters looked extremely ill, until at length they began
to perceive that they were examining gentlemen of both
parties, and that they had been doing so from the begin.
ning, almost alternately, so equally had the prisoners been
taken from both parties. Finally, it turned out, that a
few gentlemen, two-thirds of whom were strenuous Whigs
themselves, had joined in mauling the whole Whig popu.
lation of Edinburgh. The investigation disclosed noth.
ing the effect of which was not ludicrous; and the Duke
of Queensberry, whose aim was at that time to conciliate
the two factions, tried all that he could to turn the whole
fracas into a joke-an unlucky frolic, where no ill was
meant on either side, and which yet had been productive
of a great deal.
The greater part of the people went home satisfied;
but not so the Rev. Robert Wring him. He did all that
he could to inflame both judges and populace against the
young Cavaliers, especially against the young Laird of
Dalcastle, whom he represented as an incendiary, set on
by an unnatural parent to slander his mother, and make
away with a hapless and only brother ; and, in truth, that
declaimer against all human merit had that sort of power-
ful, homely, and bitter eloquence, which seldom missed
affecting his hearers ; the consequence at that time was,
that he made the unfortunate affair between the two bro-
thers appear in extremely bad colours, and the populace
retired to their homes impressed with no very favourable
opinion of either the Laird of Dalcastle or his son George,
neither of whom were there present to speak for them.
selves.


34
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
His children let be fatherless;
His wife a widow make :
Let God his father's wickedness
Still to remembrance call;
And never let his mother's sin
Be blotted out at all.
As he in cursing pleasure took,
So let it to him fall;
As he delighted not to bless,
So bless him not at all.
As cursing he like clothes puts on,
Into his bowels so,
Like water, and into his bones
Like oil, down let it go.
Young Wringhim only knew the full purport of this
spiritual song: and went to his bed better satisfied than
ever, that his father and brother were castaways, repro.
bates, aliens from the church and the true faith, and curs-
ed in time and eternity.
The next day George and his companions met as
usual,- all who were not seriously wounded of them.
But as they strolled about the city, the rancorous eye
and the finger of scorn were pointed against them. None
of them was at first aware of the reason ; but it threw a
damp over their spirits and enjoyments, which they could
not master. They went to take a forenoon game at their
old play of tennis, not on a match, but by way of im-
proving themselves; but they had not well taken their
places till young Wringhim appeared in his old station,
at his brother's right hand, with looks more demure and
determined than ever. His lips were primmed so close
that his mouth was hardly discernible, and his dark deep
eye flashed gleams of holy indignation on the godless
set, but particularly on his brother. His presence acted
as a mildew on all social intercourse or enjoyment; the
game was marred, and ended ere ever it was well begun.
There were whisperings apart—the party separated ; and,
in order to shake off the blighting influence of this dog-
ged persecutor, they entered sundry houses of their ac-
quaintances, with an understanding that they were to
meet on the Links for a game at cricket.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
35
They did so; and, stripping off part of their clothes,
they began that violent and spirited game. They had not
played five minutes, till Wringhim was stalking in the
midst of them, and totally impeding the play. A cry
arose from all corners of “ O, this will never do. Kick
him out of the play-ground! Knock down the scoun-
drel; or bind him, and let him lie in peace."
“By no means,” cried George: “it is evident he wants
nothing else. Pray do not humour him so much as to
touch him with either foot or finger." Then turning to
a friend, he said in a whisper, “speak to him, Gordon ;
he surely will not refuse to let us have the ground to
ourselves, if you request it of him."
Gordon went up to him, and requested of him, civilly,
but ardently, “ to retire to a certain distance, else none
of them could or would be answerable, however sore he
might be hurt.”
He turned disdainfully on his heel, uttered a kind of
pulpit hem! and then added, “I will take my chance of
that; hurt me, any of you, at your peril.”
The young gentlemen smiled, through spite and dis-
dain of the dogged animal. Gordon followed him up, and
tried to remonstrate with him ; but he let him know that
“it was his pleasure to be there at that time; and, un-
less he could demonstrate to him what superior right he
and his party had to that ground, in preference to him,
and to the exclusion of all others, he was determined to
assert his right, and the rights of his fellow-citizens, by
keeping possession of whatsoever part of that common
field he chose.”
“ You are no gentleman, Sir,” said Gordon.
“ Are you one, Sir?” said the other.
“ Yes, Sir, I will let you know that I am, by G-!"
“ Then, thanks be to Him whose name you have pro-
faned, I am none. If one of the party be a gentleman,
I do hope in God I am not!"
It was now apparent to them all that he was courting
obloquy and manual chastisement from their hands, if by
any means he could provoke them to the deed ; and, ap.


36
TILE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
prehensive that he had some sinister and deep-laid design
in hunting after such a singular favour, they wisely res.
trained one another from inflicting the punishment that
each of them yearned to bestow, personally, and which
he so well deserved.
But the unpopularity of the younger George Colwan
could no longer be concealed from his associates. It was
manifested wherever the populace were assembled ; and
his young and intimate friend, Adam Gordon, was oblig.
ed to warn him of the circumstance, that he might not
be surprised at the gentlemen of their acquaintance with.
drawing themselves from his society, as they could not
be seen with him without being insulted. George thank.
ed him ; and it was agreed between them, that the for.
mer should keep himself retired during the daytime
while he remained in Edinburgh, and that at night they
should always meet together, along with such of their
companions as were disengaged.
George found it every day more and more necessary
to adhere to this system of seclusion ; for it was not alone
the hisscs of the boys and populace that pursued him,
a fiend of more malignant aspect was ever at his elbow,
in the form of his brother. To whatever place of amuse.
ment he betook himself, and however well he concealed
his intentions of going there from all flesh living, there
was his brother Wringhim alxo, and always within a few
yards of him, generally about the same distance, and
ever and anon darting looks at him that chilled his very
soul. They were looks that cannot be described ; but
they were felt piercing, to the bosom's deepest core. They
affected even the onlookers in a very particular mariner,
for all whose eyes caught a glimpse of these hideous glan.
cey followed them to the object toward which they were
darted; the gentlemanly and mild demeanour of that ob.
ject generally calined their startled apprehensions ; for no
one ever yet noted the glances of the young man's eye
in the black coat, at the face of his brother, who did not
at first manifest strong syinptoms of alarm.
George became utterly confounded ; not only at the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
37
import of this persecution, but how in the world it came
to pass that this unaccountable being knew all his mo-
tions, and every intention of his heart, as it were intui.
tively. On consulting his own previous feelings and re-
solutions, he found that the circumstances of his going
to such and such a place were often the most casual in-
cidents in nature the caprice of a moment had carried
him there, and yet he had never sat or stood many mi.
nutes till there was the self-same being, always in the
same position with regard to himself, as regularly as the
shadow is cast from the substance, or the ray of light
from the opposing denser medium.
For instance, he remembered one day of setting out
with the intention of going to attend divine worship in
the High Church, and when within a short space of its
door, he was overtaken by young Kilpatrick of Closeburn,
who was bound to the Grey Friars to see his sweetheart,
as he said ; "and if you will go with me, Colwan,” said
he, “ I will let you see her too, and then you will be just
as far forward as I am.”
George assented at once, and went ; and after taking
his seat, he leaned his head forward on the pew to repeat
over to himself a short ejaculatory prayer, as had always,
been his custom on entering the house of God. When
he had done, he lifted his eyes naturally toward that point
on his right hand where the fierce apparition of his bro.
ther had been wont to meet his view : there he was, in
the same habit, form, demeanour, and precise point of dis-
tance, as usual! George again laid down his head, and
his mind was so astounded, that he had nearly fallen into
a swoon. He tried shortly after to muster up courage to
look at the speaker, at the congregation, and at Captain
Kilpatrick's sweetheart in particular ; but the fiendish
glances of the young man in the black clothes were too
appalling to be withstood,-his eye caught them whether
he was looking that way or not: at length his courage
was fairly mastered, and he was obliged to look down dur.
ing the remainder of the service.
By night or by day it was the same. In the gallery


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
of the Parliament House, in the boxes of the play-house,
in the church, in the assembly, in the streets, suburbs,
and the fields ; and every day, and every hour, from the
first rencounter of the two, the attendance became more
and more constant, more inexplicable, and altogether
more alarming and insufferable, until at last George was
fairly driven from society, and forced to spend his days
in his own and his father's lodgings with close doors.
Even there, he was constantly harassed with the idea,
that the next time he lifted his eyes, he would to a cer-
tainty see that face, the most repulsive to all his feelings
of aught the earth contained. The attendance of that
brother was now become like the attendance of a demon
on some devoted being that had sold himself to destruc-
tion; his approaches as undiscerned, and his looks as
fraught with hideous malignity. It was seldom that he
saw him either following him in the streets, or entering
any house or church after him ; he only appeared in his
place, George wist not how, or whence; and, having sped
so ill in his first friendly approaches, he had never spoken
to his equivocal attendant a second time.
It came at length into George's head, as he was pon.
dering by himself on the circumstances of this extraor.
dinary attendance, that perhaps his brother had relented,
and, though of so sullen and unaccommodating a temper
that he would not acknowledge it, or beg a reconciliation,
it might be for that very purpose that he followed his
steps night and day in that extraordinary manner. “I
cannot for my life see for what other purpose it can be,"
thought he. “ He never offers to attempt my life ; nor
dares he, if he had the inclination ; therefore, although
his manner is peculiarly repulsive to me, I shall not have
my mind burdened with the reflection, that my own mo-
ther's son yearned for a reconciliation with me, and was
repulsed by my haughty and insolent behaviour. The
next time he comes to my hand I am resolved that I will
accost him as one brother ought to address another,
whatever it may cost me; and, if I am still flouted with
disdain, then shall the blame rest with him."


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
39
· After this generous resolution, it was a good while be.
fore his gratuitous attendant appeared at his side again ;
and George began to think that his visits were discon-
tinued. The hope was a relief that could not be calcu.
lated ; but still George had a feeling that it was too su-
preme to last. His enemy had been too pertinacious to
abandon his design, whatever it was. He, however, be-
gan to indulge in a little more liberty, and for several
days he enjoyed it with impunity.
George was, from infancy, of a stirring active disposi-
tion, and could not endure confinement; and having been
of late much restrained in his youthful exercises by this
singular persecutor, he grew uneasy under such restraint,
and, one morning, chancing to awaken very early, he
arose to make an excursion to the top of Arthur's Seat,
to breathe the breeze of the dawning, and see the sun
arise out of the eastern ocean. The morning was calm
and serene ; and as he walked down the south back of
the Canongate, toward the Palace, the haze was so close
around him that he could not see the houses on the opposite
side of the way. As he passed the lord-commissioner's
house, the guards were in attendance, who cautioned
him not to go by the Palace, as all the gates would be
shut and guarded for an hour to come, on which he went
by the back of St Anthony's gardens, and found his way
into that little romantic glade adjoining to the Saint's
chapel and well. He was still involved in a blue haze,
like a dense smoke, but yet in the midst of it the respira.
tion was the most refreshing and delicious. The grass
and the flowers were laden with dew ; and, on taking off
his hat to wipe his forehead, he perceived that the black
glossy fur of which his chaperon was wrought, was all co-
vered with a tissue of the most delicate silver-a fairy
web, composed of little spheres, so minute that no eye
could discern any one of them ; yet there they were shin-
ing in lovely millions. Afraid of defacing so beautiful
and so delicate a garnish, he replaced his hat with the
greatest caution, and went on his way light of heart.
As he approached the swire at the head of the dell, --


40
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE,
that little delightful verge from which in one moment the
eastern Jimity and shores of Lothian arise on the view
as he approached it, I say, and a little space from the
height, he bebeld, to his astonishment, a bright halo in
the cloud of haze, that rose in a semicircle over his head
like a pale rainbow. He was struck motionless at the
view of the lovely vision ; for it so chanced that he had
never seen the same appearance before, though common
at early morn. But he soon perceived the cause of the
phenomenon, and that it proceeded froin the rays of the
sun from a pure unclouded morning sky striking upon
this dense vapour which refracted them. But the better
all the works of nature are understood, the more they will
be ever admired. That was a scene that would have en.
tranced the man of science with delight, but which the
uninitiated and sordid man would have regarded less than
the mole rearing up his hill in silence and in darkness,
George did admire this halo of glory, which still grew
wider, and less defined, as he approached the surface of
the cloud. But, to his utter amazement and supreme
delight, he found, on reaching the top of Arthur's Seat,
that this sublunary rainbow, this terrestrial glory, was
spread in its most vivid hues beneath his feet. Still be
could not perceive the body of the sun, although the
light behind him was dazzling ; but the cloud of haze ly-
ing dense in that deep dell that separates the hill from
the rocks of Salisbury, and the dull shadow of the hill
mingling with that cloud, made the dell a pit of darkness.
On that shadowy cloud was the lovely rainbow formed,
spreading itself on a horizontal plain, and having a slight
and brilliant shade of all the colours of the heavenly bow,
but all of them paler and less defined. But this terres.
trial phenomenon of the early morn cannot be better de.
lineated than by the name given of it by the shepherd
boys, “ The little wee ghost of the rainbow."
Such was the description of the morning, and the wild
shades of the hill, that George gave to his father and Mr
Adam Gordon that same day on which he had witnessed
them; and it is necessary that the reader should compre.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
41
hend something of their nature to understand what fol-
lows.
He seated himself on the pinnacle of the rocky preci-
pice, a little within the top of the hill to the westward,
and, with a light and buoyant heart, viewed the beauties
of the morning, and inhaled its salubrious breeze. “Here,”
thought he, “ I can converse with nature without distur-
bance, and without being intruded on by any appalling
or obnoxious visitor.” The idea of his brother's dark
and malevolent looks coming at that moment across his
mind, he turned his eyes instinctively to the right, to the
point where that unwelcome guest was wont to make his
appearance. Gracious Heaven! What an apparition was
there presented to his view! He saw, delineated in the
cloud, the shoulders, arms, and features of a human being
of the most dreadful aspect. The face was the face of
his brother, but dilated to twenty times the natural size.
Its dark eyes gleamed on him through the mist, while
every furrow of its hideous brow frowned deep as the
ravines on the brow of the hill. George started, and
his hair stood up in bristles as he gazed on this horrible
monster. He saw every feature, and every line of the
face, distinctly, as it gazed on him with an intensity that
was hardly brookable. Its eyes were fixed on him, in
the same manner as those of some carnivorous animal
fixed on its prey; and yet there was fear and trembling,
in these unearthly features, as plainly depicted as murder-
ous malice. The giant apparition seemed sometimes to
be cowering down as in terror, so that nothing but its
brow and eyes were seen ; still these never turned one
moment from their object-again it rose imperceptibly
up, and began to approach with great caution ; and as it
neared, the dimensions of its form lessened, still continu-
ing, however, far above the natural size.
George conceived it to be a spirit. He could con-
ceive it to be nothing else ; and he took it for some horrid
demon by which he was haunted, that had assumed the fea-
tures of his brother in every lineament, but in taking on it-
self the human form, had miscalculated dreadfully on
V.


42
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE
the size, and presented itself thus to him in a blown-up,
dilated frame of embodied air, exhaled from the cayerns
of death or the regions of devouring fire. He was far.
ther confirmed in the belief that it was a malignant spirit,
on perceiving that it approached him across the front of
a precipice, where there was not a footing for thing of
mortal frame. Still, what with terror and astonishment,
he continued rivetted to the spot, till it approached, as
he deemed, to within two yards of him; and then, per-
ceiving that it was setting itself to make a violent spring
on him, he started to his feet and fled distractedly in the
opposite direction, keeping his eye cast behind him lest
he should have been seized in that dangerous place. But
the very first bolt that he made in his flight he came in
contact with a real body of flesh and blood, and that with
such violence that both went down among some scragged
rocks, and George rolled over the other. The being
called out “ Murder ;" and, rising, fled precipitately.
George then perceived that it was his brother; and, be-
ing confounded between the shadow and the substance,
he knew not what he was doing or what he had done :
and there being only one natural way of retreat from the
brink of the rock, he likewise arose and pursued the af-
frighted culprit with all his speed towards the top of the
hill. Wringhim was braying out “ Murder! murder !"
at which George being disgusted, and his spirits all in a
ferment from some hurried idea of intended harm, the
moment he came up with the craven he seized him rude.
Jy by the shoulder, and clapped his hand on his mouth.
“ Murder, you beast !” said he ; “ what do you mean
by roaring out murder in that way? Who is murdering
you, or offering to murder you ?"
Wringhim forced his mouth from under his brother's
hand, and roared with redoubled energy, “ Eh ! Egh!
murder! murder !" &c. George had felt resolute to put
down this shocking alarm, lest some one might hear it
and fly to the spot, or draw inferences widely different
from the truth ; and, perceiving the terror of Wringhim
to be so great that ex postulation was vain, he seized him


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC
43
by the mouth and nose with his left hand, so strenuous.
ly, that he sunk his fingers into his cheeks. But the pol.
troon still attempting to bray out, George gave him such
a stunning blow with his fist on the left temple, that he
crumbled, as it were, to the ground, but more from the
effects of terror than those of the blow. His nose, how.
ever, again gushed out blood, a system of defence which
seemned as natural to him as that resorted to by the race
of stinkards. He then raised himself on his knees and
hams, and raising up his ghastly face, while the blood
streamed over both ears, he besought his life of his bro-
ther, in the most abject whining manner, gaping and
blubbering most piteously.
“Tell me then, Sir," said George, resolved to make
the most of the wretch's terror—“ tell me for what pur.
pose it is that you thus haunt my steps. Tell me plain-
ly, and instantly, else I will throw you from the verge of
that precipice."
“Oh, I will never do it again! I will never do it
again! Spare my life, dear, good brother! Spare my
life! Sure I never did you any hurt?"
“Swear to me, then, that you will never henceforth
follow after me to torment me with your threatening
looks; swear that you will never again come into my
presence without being invited. Will you take an oath
to this effect ?"
“O yes! I will, I will !"
“But this is not all : you must tell me for what pur-
pose you sought me out here this morning?"
“Oh, brother! for nothing but your good. I had
nothing at heart but your unspeakable profit, and great
and endless good.”
“So then, you indeed knew that I was here?"
"I was told so by a friend, but I did not believe him;
a-d-at least I did not know it was true till I saw you."
“ Tell me this one thing, then, Robert, and all shall
be forgotten and forgiven,- Who was that friend?"
* You do not know him.”
“ How then does he know me ?"


44
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
“ I cannot tell.”
“ Was he here present with you to-day?".
“ Yes; he was not far distant. He came to this hill
with me.”
" Where then is he now?”'
"I cannot tell."
“ Then, wretch, confess that the devil was that friend
who told you I was here, and who came here with you?
None else could possibly know of my being here.”
“Ah ! how little you know of him! Would you argue
that there is neither man nor spirit endowed with so much
foresight as to deduce natural conclusions from previous
actions and incidents but the devil ? Be assured of
this, however, that I had no aim in seeking you but your
good!"
“ Well, Robert, I will believe it. I am disposed to
be hasty and passionate : it is a fault in my nature ; but
I never meant, or wished you evil ; and God is my wit.
ness that I would as soon stretch out my hand to my
own life, or my father's, as to yours.”— At these words,
Wringhim uttered a hollow exulting laugh, put his hands
in his pockets, and withdrew a space to his accustomed
distance. George continued : “ And now, once for all,
I request that we may exchange forgiveness, and that we
may part and remain friends.”
"Would such a thing be expedient, think you ? Or
consistent with the glory of God ? I doubt it."
“I can think of nothing that would be more so. Is it
not consistent with every precept of the Gospel ? Come,
brother, say that our reconciliation is complete.”
« Oh yes, certainly! I tell you, brother, according to
the flesh : it is just as complete as the lark's is with the
adder ; no more so, nor ever can. Reconciled, forsooth !
To what would I be reconciled ?"
As he said this, he strode indignantly away. From
the moment that he heard his life was safe, he assumed
nis former insolence and revengeful looks--and never
were they more dreadful than on parting with his brother
that morning on the top of the hill. “Well, gothy ways,”


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
45
said George “some would despise, but I pity thee. If
thou art not a limb of Satan, I never saw one."
The sun had now dispelled the vapours; and the morn-
ing being lovely beyond description, George sat himself
down on the top of the hill, and pondered deeply on the
unaccountable incident that had befallen to him that
morning. He could in nowise comprehend it ; but, tak-
ing it with other previous circumstances, he could not get
quit of a conviction that he was haunted by some evil
genius in the shape of his brother, as well as by that
dark and mysterious wretch himself. In no other way
could he account for the apparition he saw that morning on
the face of the rock, nor for several sudden appearances
of the same being, in places where there was no possibili-
ty of any foreknowledge that he himself was to be there,
and as little that the same being, if he were flesh and
blood like other men, could always start up in the same
position with regard to him. He determined, therefore,
on reaching home, to relate all that had happened, from be-
ginning to end, to his father, asking his counsel and his
assistance, although he knew full well that his father was
not the fittest man in the world to solve such a problem,
He was now involved in party politics, over head and
ears ; and, moreover, he could never hear the names of
either of the Wringhims mentioned without getting into a
quandary of disgust and anger ; and all that he would
deign to say of them was, to call them by all the oppro-
brious names he could invent.
It turned out as the young man from the first suggest-
ed : old Dalcastle would listen to nothing concerning
them with any patience. George complained that his
brother harassed him with his presence at all times, and
in all places. Old Dal asked why he did not kick the
dog out of his presence, whenever he felt him disagree-
able ? George said, he seemed to have some demon for
a familiar. Dal answered, that he did not wonder a bit
at that, for the young spark was the third in a direct line
who had all been children of adultery ; and it was well
known that all such were born half deils themselves, and
D 2


46
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE,
nothing was more likely than that they should hold inter-
course with their fellows. In the same style did he sympa.
thize with all his son's late sufferings and perplexities.
In Mr Adam Gordon, however, George found a friend
who entered into all his feelings, and had seen and knew
every thing about the matter. He tried to convince him,
that at all events there could be nothing supernatural in
the circumstances ; and that the vision he had seen on
the rock, among the thick mist, was the shadow of his
brother approaching behind him. George could not swal.
low this, for he had seen his own shadow on the cloud,
and, instead of approaching to aught like his own figure,
he perceived nothing but a halo of glory round a point
of the cloud, that was whiter and purer than the rest.
Gordon said, if he would go with him to a mountain of
his father's, which he named, in Aberdeenshire, he would
show him a giant spirit of the same dimensions, any morn-
ing at the rising of the sun, provided he shone on that
spot. This statement excited George's curiosity exceed.
ingly; and, being disgusted with some things about Edin-
burgh, and glad to get out of the way, he consented to
go with Gordon to the Highlands for a space. The day
was accordingly set for their departure, the old laird's
assent obtained ; and the two young sparks parted in a
state of great impatience for their excursion.
One of them found out another engagement, however,
the instant after this last was determined on. Young
Wringhim went off the hill that morning, and home to his
upright guardian again, without washing the blood from
his face and neck ; and there he told a most woful story
indeed : how he had gone out to take a morning's walk
on the hill, where he had encountered with his reprobate
brother among the mist, who had knocked hiin down and
very near murdered him ; threatening dreadfully, and with
horrid oaths, to throw bin from the top of the cliff.
The wrath of the great divine was kindled beyond mea.
sure. He cursed the aggressor in the name of the Most
High ; and bound himself, by an oath, to cause tbat
wicked one's transgressions to return upon his own head


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
47
sevenfold. But before he engaged farther in the business
of vengeance, he kneeled with his adopted son, and com.
mitted the whole cause unto the Lord, whom he address.
ed as one coming breathing burning coals of juniper, and
casting his lightnings before him, to destroy and root out
all who had moved hand or tongue against the children
of the promise. Thus did he arise confirmed, and go
forth to certain conquest.
We cannot enter into the detail of the events that now
occurred, without forestalling a part of the narrative of
one who knew all the circumstances—was deeply interest-
ed in them, and whose relation is of higher value than
any thing that can be retailed out of the stores of tradi-
tion and old registers ; but, his narrative being different
from these, it was judged expedient to give the account
as thus publicly handed down to us. Suffice it, that, be-
fore evening, George was apprehended, and lodged in jail,
on a criminal charge of an assault and battery, to the
shedding of blood, with the intent of committing fratri.
cide. Then was the old laird in great consternation, and
blamed himself for treating the thing so lightly, which
seemed to have been gone about, from the beginning, so
systematically, and with an intent which the villains were
now going to realize, namely, to get the young laird dis-
posed of, and then his brother, in spite of the old gentle.
man's teeth, would be laird himself.
Old Dal now set his whole interest to work among the
noblemen and lawyers of his party. His son's case looked
exceedingly ill, owing to the former assault before wit.
nesses, and the unbecoming expressions made use of by
him on that occasion, as well as from the present assault,
which George did not deny, and for which no moving
cause or motive could be made to appear.
On his first declaration before the sheriff, matters look-
ed no better : but then the sheriff was a Whig. It is
well known how differently the people of the present day,
in Scotland, view the cases of their own party-men, and
those of opposite political principles. But this day is no-
thing to that in such matters, although, they are still


48
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
sometimes barefaced enough. It appeared, from all the
witnesses in the first case, that the complainant was the
first aggressor—that he refused to stand out of the way,
though apprised of his danger ; and when his brother
came against himn inadvertently, he had aimed a blow at
him with his foot, which, if it had taken effect, would have
killed him. But as to the story of the apparition in fair
daylight-the flying from the face of it—the running
foul of his brother--pursuing him, and knocking him
down, why the judge smiled at the relation ; and saying,
“ It was a very extraordinary story,” he remanded George
to prison, leaving the matter to the High Court of Justi.
ciary.
When the case came before that court, matters took a
different turn. The constant and sullen attendance of
the one brother upon the other excited suspicions; and
these were in some manner confirmed, when the guards
at Queensberry-house deponed, that the prisoner went by
them on his way to the hill that morning, about twenty
minutes before the complainant, and when the latter pass-
ed, he asked if such a young man had passed before him,
describing the prisoner's appearance to them ; and that,
on being answered in the affirmative, he mended his pace
and fell a-running.
The Lord Justice, on hearing this, asked the prisoner
if he had any suspicions that his brother had a design on
his life.
He answered, that all along, from the time of their
first unfortunate meeting, his brother had dogged his steps
so constantly, and so unaccountably, that he was con-
vinced it was with some intent out of the ordinary course
of events; and that if, as his lordship supposed, it was
indeed his shadow that he had seen approaching him
through the mist, then, from the cowering and cautious
manner that it advanced, there was too little doubt that
his brother's design had been to push him headlong from
the cliff that morning.
A conversation then took place between the Judge and
the Lord Advocate ; and, in the mean time, a bustle was


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
49
seen in the hall ; on which the doors were ordered to be
guarded,-and, behold, the precious Mr R. Wringhim
was taken into custody, trying to make his escape out of
court. Finally it turned out, that George was honour.
ably acquitted, and young Wringhim bound over to keep
the peace with heavy penalties and securities.
That was a day of high exultation to George and his
youthful associates, all of whom abhorred Wringhim ;
and the evening being spent in great glee, it was agreed
between Mr Adam Gordon and George that their visit
to the Highlands, though thus long delayed, was not to
be abandoned ; and though they had, through the ma-
chinations of an incendiary, lost the season of delight,
they would still find plenty of sport in deer-shooting.
Accordingly, the day was set a second time for their de.
parture ; and, on the day preceding that, all the party
were invited by George to dine with him once more at
the sign of the Black Bull of Norway. Every one pro-
mised to attend, anticipating nothing but festivity and
joy. Alas, what short-sighted improvident creatures we
are, all of us; and how often does the evening cup of
joy lead to sorrow in the morning!
The day arrived—the party of young noblemen and
gentlemen met, and were as happy and jovial as men
could be. George was never seen so brilliant, or so full
of spirits; and exulting to see so many gallant young
chiefs and gentlemen about him, who all gloried in the
same principles of loyalty, (perhaps this word should have
been written disloyalty,) he made speeches, gave toasts,
and sung songs, all leaning slily to the same side, until a
very late hour. By that time he had pushed the bottle
so long and so freely, that its fumes had taken possession
of every brain to such a degree, that they held Dame
Reason rather at the staff's end, overbearing all her coun-
sels and expostulations; and it was imprudently proposed
by a wild inebriated spark, and carried by a majority of
voices, that the whole party should adjourn to another
tavern for the remainder of the night.
They did so ; and it appears from what follows, that


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
the house to which they retired, must have been some-
where on the opposite side of the street to the Black Bull
Inn, a little farther to the eastward. They had not been
an hour in that house, till some altercation chanced to
arise between George Colwan and a Mr Drummond, the
younger son of a nobleman of distinction. It was per-
fectly casual, and no one thenceforward, to this day, could
ever tell what it was about, if it was not about the mis.
understanding of some word, or term, that the one had
uttered. However it was, some high words passed be-
tween them; these were followed by threats; and in less
than two minutes from the commencement of the quarrel,
Drummond left the house in apparent displeasure, hinting
to the other that they two should settle that in a more
convenient place.
The company looked at one another, for all was over
before any of them knew such a thing was begun.
• What is the matter ?” cried one. “What ails Drum-
mond ?” cried another. “ Who has he quarrelled with ?”
asked a third.
“ Don't know."_“ Can't tell, on my life.”-“ He has
quarrelled with his wine, I suppose, and is going to send
it a challenge."
Such were the questions, and such the answers that
passed in the jovial party, and the matter was no more
thought of.
But in the course of a very short space, about the length
of which the ideas of the company were the next day at
great variance, a sharp rap came to the door : it was
opened by a female ; but there being a chain inside, she only
saw one side of the person at the door. He appeared to
be a young gentleman, in appearance like him who had
lately left the house, and asked, in a low whispering voice,
“ if young Dalcastle was still in the house ?" The wo-
inan did not know." If he is," added he, “pray tell
him to speak with me for a few minutes.” The woman
delivered the message before all the party, among whom
there were then sundry courteous ladies of notable dis-
tinction, and George, on receiving it, instantly rose, and


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
51
said, in the hearing of them all, “ I will bet a hundred
inerks that is Drummond."-" Don't go to quarrel with
him, George,” said one. “ Bring him in with you,” said
another. George stepped out; the door was again bolted.
the chain drawn across, and the inadvertent party, left
within, thought no more of the circumstance till the next
morning, that the report had spread over the city, that a
young gentleman had been slain, on a little washing.
green at the side of the North Loch, and at the very bot.
tom of the close where this thoughtless party had been
assembled.
Several of them on first hearing the report, hasted to
the dead-room in the old Guard-house, where the corpse
had been deposited, and soon discovered the body to be
that of their friend and late entertainer, George Colwan.
Great were the consternation and grief of all concerned,
and in particular, of his old father and Miss Logan; for
George had always been the sole hope and darling of
both, and the news of the event paralyzed them so as to
render thein incapable of all thought or exertion. The
spirit of the old laird was broken by the blow, and he
descended at once from a jolly, good-natured, and active
inan, to a mere driveller, weeping over the body of his
son, kissing his wound, his lips, and his cold brow alter-
nately; denouncing vengeance on his murderers, and la-
menting that he himself had not met the cruel doom, so
that the hope of his race might have been preserved.
In short, finding that all further motive of action and ob-
ject of concern or of love, here below, were for ever re-
inoved from him, he abandoned himself to despair, and
threatened to go down to the grave with his son.
But although he made no attempt to discover the mur.
derers, the arm of justice was not idle ; and it being
evident to all, that the crime must infallibly be brought
home to young Drummond, some of his friends sought
him out, and compelled him, sorely against his will, to
retire into concealment till the issue of the proof that
should be led was made known. At the same time, he
denied all knowledge of the incident with a resolution that


52
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
astonished his intimate friends and relations, who to a
man suspected him guilty. His father was not in Scot-
land, for I think it was said to me that this young man
was second son to a John, Duke of Melfort, who lived
abroad with the royal family of the Stuarts; but this
young gentleman lived with the relations of his mother,
one of whom, an uncle, was a Lord of Session : these
having thoroughly effected his concealment, went away,
and listened to the evidence; and the examination of
every new witness convinced them that their noble young
relative was the slayer of his friend.
All the young gentlemen of the party were examined,
save Drummond, who, when sent for, could not be found,
which circumstance sorely confirmed the suspicions against
him in the minds of judges and jurors, friends and ene-
mies ; and there is little doubt, that the care of his rela-
tions in concealing him, injured his character, and his
cause. The young gentlemen, of whom the party was
composed, varied considerably, with respect to the quar-
rel between him and the deceased. Some of them had
neither heard nor noted it ; others had, but not one of
them could tell how it began. Some of them had heard
the threat uttered by Drummond on leaving the house,
and one only had noted him lay his hand on his sword.
Not one of them could swear that it was Drummond who
came to the door, and desired to speak with the deceased,
but the general impression on the minds of them all, was
to that effect; and one of the women swore that she heard
the voice distinctly at the door, and every word that voice
pronounced; and at the same time heard the deceased
say, that it was Drummond's.
On the other hand, there were some evidences on
Drummond's part, which Lord Craigie, his uncle, had
taken care to collect. He produced the sword which his
nephew had worn that night, on which there was neither
blood nor blemish; and above all, he insisted on the evi.
dence of a number of surgeons, who declared that both
the wounds which the deceased had received, had been
given behind. One of these was below the left arm,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
53
and a slight one; the other was quite through the body,
and both evidently inflicted with the same weapon, a two-
edged sword, of the same dimensions as that worn by
Drummond.
Upon the whole, there was a division in the court, but
a majority decided it. Drummond was pronounced guilty
of the murder, outlawed for not appearing, and a high
reward offered for his apprehension. It was with the
greatest difficulty that he escaped on board of a small
trading vessel, which landed him in Holland, and from
thence, flying into Germany, he entered into the service
of the Emperor Charles VI. Many regretted that he
was not taken, and made to suffer the penalty due for
such a crime, and the melancholy incident became a pul-
pit theme over a great part of Scotland, being held up as
a proper warning to youth.
After the funeral of this promising and excellent young
man, his father never more held up his head. Miss Lo-
gan, with all her art, could not get him to attend to any
worldly thing, or to make any settlement whatsoever of
his affairs, save making her over a present of what dis-
posable funds he had about him. As to his estates, when
they were mentioned to him, he wished them all in the
bottom of the sea, and himself along with them. But
whenever she mentioned the circumstance of Thomas
Drummond having been the murderer of his son, he
shook his head, and once made the remark, that “ It was
all a mistake, a gross and fatal error ; but that God, who
had permitted such a flagrant deed, would bring it to light
in his own time and way.” In a few weeks he followed
his son to the grave, and the notorious Robert Wringhim
took possession of his estates as the lawful son of the
late laird, born in wedlock, and under his father's roof.
The investiture was celebrated by prayer, singing of
psalms, and religious disputation. The late guardian and
adopted father, and the mother of the new laird, presid-
ed on the grand occasion, making a conspicuous figure
in all the work of the day; and though the youth him-
self indulged rather more freely in the bottle, than he


54
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
had ever been seen to do before, it was agreed by all pre.
sent, that there had never been a festivity so sanctified
within the great hall of Dalcastle.
But the ways of heaven are altogether inscrutable,
and soar as far above and beyond the works and the com-
prehensions of man, as the sun, flaming in majesty, is
above the tiny boy's evening rocket. It is the control.
ler of Nature alone, that can bring light out of darkness,
and order out of confusion. Who is he that causeth the
mole, from his secret path of darkness, to throw up the
gom, the gold, and the precious ore? The same, that
froin the mouths of babes and sucklings can extract the
perfection of praise, and who can make the most abject
of his creatures instrumental in bringing the most hidden
truthy to light.
Miss Logan had never lost the thought of her late
master's prediction, that Heaven would bring to light
the truth concerning the untimely death of his son. She
perceived that some strange conviction, too horrible for
expression, preyed on his mind from the moment that
the fatal news reached him, to the last of his existence;
and in his last ravings, he uttered some incoherent words
about fanaticism having been the ruin of his house.
These, to be sure, were the words of superannuation,
and of the last and severest kind of it ; but for all that,
they sunk deep into Miss Logan's soul, and at last she
began to think with hersell, “ 19 it possible the Wring.
hims, and the sophisticating wretch who is in conjunction
with them, the inother of my late beautiful and ariable
young master, can have effected his destruction ? if yo,
I will spend my days, and my little patrimony, in endea-
vours to rake up and expose the unnatural deed."
In all her outgoings and incomings, Mrs Logan (as she
was now styled) never lost sight of this one object.
Every new disappointment only whetted her desire to
fish up some particulars concerning it; for she thought
so long, and so ardently upon it, that by degrees it be.
came settled in her mind as a sealed truth. And as
woman is always most jealous of her own sex in such


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
55
matters, her suspicions were fixed on her greatest enemy,
Mrs Colwan, now the Lady Dowager of Dalcastle. All
was wrapt in a chaos of confusion and darkness ; but at
last by dint of a thousand sly and secret inquiries, Mrs
Logan found out where Lady Dalcastle had been, on the
night that the murder happened, and likewise what com.
pany she had kept, as well as some of the comers and
goers; and she had hopes of having discovered a cue,
which, if she could keep hold of the thread, would lead
her through darkness to the light of truth.
Returning very late one evening from a convocation of
family servants, which she had drawn together in order to
fish something out of them, her maid having been in at-
tendance on her all the evening, they found on going home,
that the house had been broken into, and a number of
valuable articles stolen therefrom. Mrs Logan had grown
quite heartless before this stroke, having been altogether
unsuccessful in her inquiries, and now she began to enter-
tain some resolutions of giving up the fruitless search.
In a few days thereafter, she received intelligence that
her clothes and plate were mostly recovered, and that she
for one was bound over to prosecute the depredator,
provided the articles turned out to be hers, as libelled in
the indictment, and as a king's evidence had given out.
She was likewise summoned, or requested, I know not
which, being ignorant of these matters, to go as far as the
town of Peebles on Tweedside, in order to survey the
articles on such a day, and make affidavit to their identity
before the Sheriff. She went accordingly; but on enter-
ing the town by the North Gate, she was accosted by a
poor girl in tattered apparel, who with great earnestness
inquired if her name was not Mrs Logan? On being an-
swered in the affirmative, she said that the unfortunate
prisoner in the tolbooth requested her, as she valued all
that was dear to her in life, to go and see her before she
appeared in court, at the hour of cause, as she (the pri-
soner) had something of the greatest moment to impart
to her. Mrs Logan's curiosity was excited, and she
followed the girl straight to the tolbooth, who by the


56
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
way said to her, that she would find in the prisoner a
woman of a superior mind, who had gone through all the
vicissitudes of life. “She has been very unfortunate, and
I fear very wicked,” added the poor thing, “but she is
my mother, and God knows, with all her faults and fail-
ings, she has never been unkind to me. You, madam,
have it in your power to save her; but she has wronged
you, and therefore if you will not do it for her sake, do
it for mine, and the God of the fatherless will reward
you.”
Mrs Logan answered her with a cast of the head, and
a hem! and only remarked, that “the guilty must not
always be suffered to escape, or what a world must we
be doomed to live in !”
She was admitted to the prison, and found a tall ema-
ciated figure, who appeared to have once possessed a sort
of masculine beauty in no ordinary degree, but was now
considerably advanced in years. She viewed Mrs Logan
with a stern, steady gaze, as if reading her features as a
margin to her intellect ; and when she addressed her it
was not with that humility, and agonized fervour, which
are natural for one in such circumstances to address to
another, who has the power of her life and death in her
hands.
“I am deeply indebted to you, for this timely visit,
Mrs Logan,” said she. “ It is not that I value life, or
because I fear death, that I have sent for you so express-
ly. But the manner of the death that awaits me, has
something peculiarly revolting in it to a female mind.
Good God! when I think of being hung up, a spectacle
to a gazing, gaping multitude, with numbers of which I
have had intimacies and connexions, that would render
the moment of parting so hideous, that, believe me, it
rends to flinders a soul born for another sphere than that
in which it has moved, had not the vile selfishness of a
lordly fiend ruined all my prospects, and all my hopes.
Hear me then ; for I do not ask your pity ; I only ask
of you to look to yourself, and behave with womanly
prudence. If you deny this day, that these goods are


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
57
yours, there is no other evidence whatever against my
life, and it is safe for the present. For as for the word of
the wretch who has betrayed me, it is of no avail; he has
prevaricated so notoriously to save himself. If you deny
them, you shall have them all again to the value of a mite,
and more to the bargain. If you swear to the identity
of them, the process will, one way and another, cost you
the half of what they are worth."
“ And what security have I for that ?" said Mrs Logan.
“ You have none but my word," said the other proud.
ly," and that never yet was violated. If you cannot
take that, I know the worst you can do. But I had for-
got-I have a poor helpless child without, waiting, and
starving about the prison door ; surely it was of her that
I wished to speak. This shameful death of mine will
leave her in a deplorable state.”
" The girl seems to have candour and strong affections,"
said Mrs Logan ; “I grievously mistake if such a child
would not be a thousand times better without such a
guardian and director."
" Then will you be so kind as come to the Grass Mar-
ket, and see me put down?" said the prisoner. “ I thought
a woman would estimate a woman's and a mother's feel.
ings, when such a dreadful throw was at stake, at least
in part. But you are callous, and have never known any
feelings but those of subordination to your old unnatural
master. Alas, I have no cause of offence! I have wronged
you; and justice must take its course. Will you forgive
me before we part?”
Mrs Logan hesitated, for her mind ran on something
else : on which the other subjoined, “ No, you will not
forgive me, I see. But you will pray to God to forgive
me? I know you will do that."
Mrs Logan heard not this jeer, but looking at the pris-
soner with an absent and stupid stare, she said, “Did you
know my late master ?"
" Ay, that I did, and never for any good," said she.
“I knew the old and the young spark both, and was by
when the latter was slain."
E 2


58
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
This careless sentence affected Mrs Logan in a most
peculiar manner. A shower of tears burst from her eyes
ere it was done, and when it was, she appeared like one
bereaved of her mind. She first turned one way and then
another, as if looking for something she had dropped.
She seemed to think she had lost her eyes, instead of her
tears, and at length, as by instinct, she tottered close up
to the prisoner's face, and looking wistfully and joyfully
in it, said, with breathless earnestness, “ Pray, mistress,
what is your name ?".
“ My name is Arabella Calvert,” said the other: “Miss,
mistress, or widow, as you choose, for I have been all the
three, and that not once nor twice only-Ay, and some.
thing beyond all these. But as for you, you have never
been any thing !"
“Ay, ay! and so you are Bell Calvert ? Well I
thought so I thought so," said Mrs Logan; and help-
ing herself to a seat, she came and sat down close by the
prisoner's knee. “So you are indeed Bell Calvert, so
called once. Well, of all the world you are the woman
whom I have longed and travailed the most to see. But
you were invisible ; a being to be heard of, not seen.”
“There have been days, madam," returned she, “when
I was to be seen, and when there were few to be seen
like me. But since that time there have indeed been
days 'on which I was not to be seen. My crimes have
been great, but my sufferings have been greater : So
great, that neither you nor the world can ever either
know or conceive them. I hope they will be taken into
account by the Most High. Mine have been crimes of
utter desperation. But whom am I speaking to! You
had better leave me to myself, mistress.”
“Leave you to yourself? That I will be loth to do,
till you tell me where you were that night my young
master was murderedi?”.
" Where the devil would, I was! Will that suffice you?
Ah, it was a vile action! A night to be remembered
that was !- Won't you be going? I want to trust my
daughter with a commission."


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
39
“No, Mrs Calvert, you and I part not, till you have
divulged that mystery to me."
“You must accompany me to the other world, then,
for you shall not have it in this.”
“If you refuse to answer me, I can have you before a
tribunal, where you shall be sifted to the soul."
“Such miserable inanity! What care I for your threat-
enings of a tribunal ? I who must so soon stand before
my last earthly one? What could the word of such a
culprit avail ? Or if it could, where is the judge that could
enforce it?"
“Did you not say that there was some mode of accom-
modating matters on that score ?"
“ Yes, I prayed you to grant me my life, which is in
your power. The saving of it would not have cost you a
plack, yet you refused to do it. The taking of it will cost
you a great deal, and yet to that purpose you adhere. I
can have no parley with such a spirit. I would not have
my life in a present from its motions, nor would I exchange
courtesies with its possessor.”
" Indeed, Mrs Calvert, since ever we met, I have been
so busy thinking about who you might be, that I know
not what you have been proposing. I believe, I meant
to do what I could to save you. But once for all, tell me
every thing that you know concerning that amiable young
gentleman's death, and here is my hand, there shall be
nothing wanting that I can effect for you."
“No, I despise all barter with such mean and selfish
curiosity; and, as I believe that passion is stronger with
you, than fear is with me, we part on equal terms. Do
your worst ; and my secret shall go to the gallows and
the grave with me.”
Mrs Logan was now greatly .confounded, and after
proffering in vain to concede every thing she could ask
in exchange, for the particulars relating to the murder,
she became the suppliant in her turn. But the unaccoun.
table culprit, exulting in her advantage, laughed her to
scorn; and finally, in a paroxysm of pride and impatience,
called in the jailor, and had her expelled, ordering him in


60
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
her hearing, not to grant her admittance a second time, on
any pretence.
Mrs Logan was now hard put to it, and again driven
almost to despair. She might have succeeded in the at.
tainment of that she thirsted for most in life so easily,
had she known the character which she had to deal
with,—had she known to have soothed her high and
afflicted spirit: but that opportunity was past, and the
hour of examination at hand. She once thought of going
and claiming her articles, as she at first intended; but
then, when she thought again of the Wringhims swaying
it at Dalcastle, where she had been wont to hear
them held in such contempt, if not abhorrence, and per-
haps of holding it by the most diabolical means, she was
withheld from marring the only chance that remained of
having a glimpse into that mysterious affair.
Finally she resolved not to answer to her name in the
court, rather than to appear and assert a falsehood, which
she might be called on to certify by oath. She did so;
and heard the Sheriff give orders to the officers to make
inquiry for Miss. Logan from Edinburgh, at the various
places of entertainment in town, and to expedite her
arrival in court, as things of great value were in depen-
dence. She also heard the man who had turned king's
evidence against the prisoner, examined for the second
time, and sifted most cunningly. His answers gave any
thing but satisfaction to the Sheriff, though Mrs Logan
believed them to be mainly truth. But there were a few
questions and answers that struck her above all others.
“ How long is it since Mrs Calvert and you became
acquainted ?”
“ About a year and a half.”
“State the precise time, if you please ; the day, or
night, according to your remembrance."
“ It was on the morning of the 28th of February,
1705."
“ What time of the morning ?"
“ Perhaps about one."
“So early as that ? At what place did you meet then?"


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
61
“ It was at the foot of one of the north wynds of
Edinburgh.”
“ Was it by appointment that you met ?”
“ No, it was not."
“ For what purpose was it then?"
“ For no purpose.”
“ How is it that you chance to remember the day and
hour so minutely, if you met that woman, whom you
have accused, merely by chance, and for no manner of
purpose, as you must have met others that night, perhaps
to the amount of hundreds, in the same way ?”
“ I have good cause to remember it, my lord.”
“ What was that cause ? —No answer ?-You don't
choose to say what that cause was ?"
“I am not at liberty to tell.”
The Sheriff then descended to other particulars, all of
which tended to prove that the fellow was an accomplish-
ed villain, and that the principal share of the atrocities
had been committed by him. Indeed the Sheriff hinted,
that he suspected the only share Mrs Calvert had in
them, was in being too much in his company, and too
true to himn. The case was remitted to the Court of Jus-
ticiary ; but Mrs Logan had heard enough to convince
her that the culprits first met at the very spot, and the
very hour, on which George Colwan was slain ; and she
had no doubt that they were incendiaries set on by his
mother, to forward her own and her darling son's way to
opulence. Mrs Logan was wrong, as will appear in the
sequel; but her antipathy to Mrs Colwan made her
watch the event with all care. She never quitted Pee-
bles as long as Bell Calvert remained there, and when
she was removed to Edinburgh, the other followed.
When the trial came on, Mrs Logan and her maid were
again summoned as witnesses before the jury, and com-
pelled by the prosecutor for the Crown to appear.
The maid was first called ; and when she came into
the witnesses' box, the anxious and hopeless looks of the
prisoner were manifest to all ; but the girl, whose name,
she said, was Bessy Gillies, answered in so flippant and


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
fearless a way, that the auditors were much amused. After
a number of routine questions, the depute-advocate asked
her if she was at home on the morning of the fifth of
September last, when her mistress's house was robbed ?
" Was I at hame, say ye? Na, faith-ye, lad! An I
had been at hame, there had been mair to dee. I wad hae
raised sic a yelloch !”
“ Where were you that morning ?".
“ Where was I, say you? I was in the house where
iny mistress was, sitting dozing an' half sleeping in the
kitchen. I thought aye she would be setting out every
minute, for twa hours.”
“ And when you went home, what did you find ?"
• What found we? Be my sooth, we found a broken
lock, an' toom kists."
“ Relate some of the particulars, if you please.”
“O, sir, the thieves didna stand upon particulars :
they were halesale dealers in a' our best wares."
“I mean, what passed between your mistress and you
on the occasion ?"
• What passed, say ye? O, there wasna muckle: I
was in a great passion, but she was dung doitrified a wee.
When she gaed to put the key i' the door, up it flew to
the fer wa'.-' Bess, ye jaud, what's the meaning o' this ?'
quo she. "Ye hae left the door open, ye tawpie !' quo'
she. “The ne'er o' that I did,' quo I, ' or may my sha-
kel bane never turn another key. When we got the
candle lightit, a' the house was in a hoad-road. • Bessy,
my woman,' quo she. “we are baith ruined and undone
creatures.' • The deil a bit,' quo I; 'that I deny posi-
tively. H'mh ! to speak o' a lass o' my age being ruined
and undone! I never had muckle except what was with-
in a good jerkin, an' let the thief ruin me there wha
can.
“Do you remember ought else that your mistress said
on the occasion ? Did you hear her blame any per-
son?”
“O, she made a great deal o' grumphing an' groaning
about the misfortune, as she ca'd it, an' I think she said


65
CONTESSION
: ime
upe, of
a
:
7
believe
ave no
it was a part tip TIN TULIS
some sic Tan t e . st.
she, wringme te nang
an' they'll get tuet
3
tisfaction, gue 1
.
rsion I
strong
e made
ent the
know?
about, for I thx ter
i ne
ca's ther."
- Did VDU Teve 222 2
2
bar there, Mhe Saree
of ber tour
t
elbin e
* Never boment des
Calvert tout se me te
ther do 1"
jail at
before,
tion, as
3 a few
nad me
to the
idence,
ally the
smissed
ist con-
I a large
elivered
Contain-
know if
itted to
“Becale I WEB
.. U
the bolts ar' tie 25. The
* Very Dernen. brass,
and lout at tire
see these siivet MMR: PO-*
“I hae Ebel vor per
seen silier spune DR
* Can TOL Bw yun
-
** Na, a I wanie szk
w
war made, unies 19 ITD
ain hand, ar' that wia. W
“See, they are al meer
* Sae are the EDUUDE I
in Edinburgt 1 me L'
so are the names that
are line
them by, an gie te Duv; WURDE
are marked wi ber aiL ER
are hers, an' that sie iza sebe n.
6. Ah, God bless her trear: elum
that blessing was ectuer 1 te brez
ing breast.
“ Did you ever set thuis guk k vreest dedica
as Mrs
iments;
of the
rival.--
essed in
her; de-
i property,
elonged to
ny, in order
5 was of the
stir up all the
-


62
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
fearless a way, that the auditors were much amused. After
a number of routine questions, the depute-advocate asked
her if she was at home on the morning of the fifth of
September last, when her mistress's house was robbed ?
" Was I at hame, say ye? Na, faith-ye, lad! An I
had been at hame, there had been mair to dee. I wad hae
raised sic a yelloch !"
“ Where were you that morning?"
“ Where was I, say you? I was in the house where
any mistress was, sitting dozing an' half sleeping in the
kitchen. I thought aye she would be setting out every
minute, for twa hours."
“ And when you went home, what did you find ?"
“ What found we? Be my sooth, we found a broken
lock, an' toom kists."
** Relate some of the particulars, if you please."
“ 0, sir, the thieves didna stand upon particulars :
they were halesale dealers in a' our best wares."
“I mean, what passed between your mistress and you
on the occasion ?"
" What passed, say ye? O, there wasna muckle: I
was in a great passion, but she was dung doitrified a wee,
When she gaed to put the key i' the door, up it flew to
the fer wa'. Bess, ye jaud, what's the meaning o' this?'
quo she. Ye hae left the door open, ye taw pie !' quo'
she. “The ne'er o' that I did,' quo I, or may my sha-
kel bane never turn another key.' When we got the
candle lightit, a' the house was in a hoad-road. Bessy,
my woman,' quo she, 'we are baith ruined and undone
creatures. The deil a bit,' quo I ; • that I deny posi.
tively. H'mh ! to speak o' a lass o' my age being ruined
and undone! I never had muckle except what was with-
in a good jerkin, an' let the thief ruin me there wha
can."
“Do you remember ought else that your mistress said
on the occasion ? Did you hear her blame any per-
son?"
“O, she made a great deal o' grumphing an' groaning
about the misfortune, as she ca'd it, an' I think she said


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
63
it was a part o' the ruin wrought by the Ringans, or
some sic name, 'they'll hae't a'! they'll hae't a'!' cried
she, wringing her hands ; 'they'll hae't a,' an' hell wi't,
an’ they'll get them baith.' ' Aweel, that's aye some sa-
tisfaction,' quo I.”
“ Whom did she mean by the Ringans, do you
know?
“I fancy they are some creatures that she has dreamed
about, for I think there canna be as ill folks living as she
ca's them."
“ Did you never hear her say that the prisoner at the
bar there, Mrs Calvert, or Bell Calvert, was the robber
of her house ; or that she was one of the Ringans ?"
“Never. Somebody tauld her lately, that ane Bell
Calvert robbed her house, but she disna believe it. Nei-
ther do I.”
“What reasons have you for doubting it?"
“Because it was nae woman's fingers that broke up
the bolts an' the locks that were torn open that night."
“ Very pertinent, Bessy. Come then within the bar,
and look at these articles on the table. Did you ever
see these silver spoons before?"
“I hae seen some very like them, and whaever has
seen siller spoons, has done the same.”
“ Can you swear you never saw them before?"
“Na, na, I wadna swear to ony siller spoons that ever
war made, unless I had put a private mark on them wi' my
ain hand, an' that's what I never did to ane.”
“ See, they are all marked with a C.”
“Sae are a' the spoons in Argyle, an' the half o'them
in Edinburgh I think. A C is a very common letter, al'
so are a' the names that begin wi't. Lay them by, lay
them by, an' gie the poor woman her spoons again. They
are marked wi' her ain name, an' I hae little doubt they
are hers, an' that she has seen better days.”
“Ah, God bless her heart!" sighed the prisoner; and
that blessing was echoed in the breathings of many a feel-
ing breast.
“ Did you ever see this gown before, think you ?""


64
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
“I hae seen ane very like it."
“Could you not swear that gown was your mistress's
once ?"
“ No, unless I saw her hae't on, an' kend that she
had paid for't. I am very scrupulous about an oath.
Like is an ill mark. Sae ill indeed, that I wad hardly
swear to ony thing."
“But you say that gown is very like one your mistress
used to wear.”
“I never said sic a thing. It is like one I hae seen
her hae out airing on the hay raip i' the back green. It
is very like ane I hae seen Mrs Butler in the Grass
Market wearing too; I rather think it is the same. Bless
you, sir, I wadna swear to my ain fore-finger, if it had
been as lang out o' my sight, an' brought in an' laid on
that table.”
“ Perhaps you are not aware, girl, that this scrupulous-
ness of yours is likely to thwart the purposes of justice,
and bereave your mistress of property to the amount of a
thousand merks?” (From the Judge.)
“I canna help that, my lord : that's her lookout. For
my part, I am resolved to keep a clear conscience, till I
be married, at any rate."
“Look over these things, and see if there is any one
article among them which you can fix on as the property
of your mistress."
“ No ane o' them, sir, no ane oʻthem. An oath is an
awfu' thing, especially when it is for life or death. Gie
the poor woman her things again, an' let my mistress pick
up the next she finds: that's my advice.”
When Mrs Logan came into the box, the prisoner
groaned, and laid down her head. But how was she
astonished when she heard her deliver herself something
to the following purport!—That whatever penalties she
was doomed to abide, she was determined she would not
bear witness against a woman's life, from a certain con-
viction that it could not be a woman who broke her
ouse. “I have no doubt that I may find some of my
• vn things there,” added she, “ but if they were found in


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
65
her possession, she has been made a tool, or the dupe, of
an infernal set, who shall be nameless here. I believe
she did not rob me, and for that reason I will have no
hand in her condemnation."
The Judge. “This is the most singular perversion I
have ever witnessed. Mrs Logan, I entertain strong
suspicions that the prisoner, or her agents, have made
some agreement with you on this matter, to prevent the
course of justice.”
“So far from that, my lord, I went into the jail at
Peebles to this woman, whom I had never seen before,
and proffered to withdraw my part in the prosecution, as
well as my evidence, provided she would tell me a few
simple facts; but she spurned at iny offer, and had me
turned insolently out of the prison, with orders to the
jailor never to admit me again on any pretence."
The prisoner's counsel, taking hold of this evidence,
addressed the jury with great fluency; and finally the
prosecution was withdrawn, and the prisoner dismissed
from the bar, with a severe reprimand for her past con-
duct, and an exhortation to keep better company.
It was not many days till a caddy came with a large
parcel to Mrs Logan's house, which parcel he delivered
into her hands, accompanied with a sealed note, contain-
ing an inventory of the articles, and a request to know if
the unfortunate Arabella Calvert would be admitted to
converse with Mrs Logan.
Never was there a woman so much overjoyed as Mrs
Logan was at this message. She returned compliments;
would be most happy to see her; and no article of the
parcel should be looked at, or touched, till her arrival.
It was not long till she made her appearance, dressed in
somewhat better style than she had yet seen her; de.
livered her over the greater part of the stolen property,
besides many things that either never had belonged to
Mrs Logan, or that she thought proper to deny, in order
that the other might retain them.
The tale that she told of her misfortunes was of the
most distressing nature, and was enough to stir up all the
v.


66
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
tender, as well as abhorrent feelings in the bosom of hu-
manity. She had suffered every deprivation in fame.
fortune, and person. She had been imprisoned; she bad
been scourged, and branded as an impostor, and all on
account of her resolute and unmoving fidelity and truth
to several of the very worst of men, every one of whoin
had abandoned her to utter destitution and shame. But
this story we cannot enter on at present, as it would
perhaps mar the thread of our story, as much as it did
the anxious anticipations of Mrs Logan, who sat pining
and longing for the relation that follows.
“Now I know, Mrs Logan, that you are expecting a
detail of the circumstances relating to the death of
Mr George Colwan; and in gratitude for your unbound.
ed generosity and disinterestedness, I will tell you all
that I know, although, for causes that will appear obvious
to you, I had determined never in life to divulge one
circumstance of it. I can tell you, however, that you
will be disappointed, for it was not the gentleman who
was accused, found guilty, and would have suffered the
utmost penalty of the law, had he not made his escape.
It was not he, I say, who slew your young master, nor
had he any hand in it."
“I never thought he had. But, pray, how do you
come to know this?"
“ You shall hear. I had been abandoned in York, by
an artful and consummate fiend; found guilty of being
art and part concerned in the most heinous atrocities, and,
in his place, suffered what I yet shudder to think of.
I was banished the county-begged my way with my
poor outcast child up to Edinburgh, and was there obliged,
for the second time in my life, to betake myself to the
inost degrading of all means to support two wretched
lives. I hired a dress, and betook me, shivering, to the
High Street, too well aware that my form and appearance
would soon draw me suitors enow at that throng and in-
temperate time of the parliament. On my very first
stepping out to the street, a party of young gentlemen
was passing. I heard by the noise they made, and the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC
67
tenor of their speech, that they were more than mellow,
and so I resolved to keep near them, in order, if possible,
to make some of them my prey. But just as one of
them began to eye me, I was rudely thrust into a narrow
close by one of the guardsmen. I had heard to what
house the party was bound, for the men were talking ex-
ceedingly loud, and making no secret of it; so I hasted
down the close, and round below to the one where their
rendezvous was to be; but I was too late, they were all
housed and the door bolted. I resolved to wait, think-
ing they could not at all stay long; but I was perishing
with famine, and was like to fall down. The moon
shone as bright as day, and I perceived, by a sign at the
bottom of the close, that there was a small tavern of a
certain description up two stairs there. I went up and
called, telling the mistress of the house my plan. She
approved of it mainly, and offered me her best apartment,
provided I could get one of these noble mates to accom-
pany me. She abused Lucky Sudds, as she called her,
at the inn where the party was, envying her huge profits,
no doubt, and giving me afterward something to drink,
for which I really felt exceedingly grateful in my need.
I stepped down stairs in order to be on the alert. The
moment that I reached the ground, the door of Lucky
Sudds' house opened and shut, and down came the
Honourable Thomas Drummond, with hasty and impas-
sioned strides, his sword rattling at his heel. I accosted
him in a soft and soothing tone. He was taken with my
address; for he instantly stood still and gazed intently at
me, then at the place, and then at me again. I beckoned
him to follow me, which he did without farther ceremony,
and we soon found ourselves together in the best room
of a house where every thing was wretched. He still
Jooked about him, and at me ; but all this while he had
never spoken a word. At length, I asked if he would
take any refreshment? If you please,' said he. I
asked what he would have ? but he only answered,
• Whatever you choose, madam.' If he was taken with
my address, I was much more taken with his ; for he


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
69
was a corner one, and looked both east and north, I ran
to the easter casement to look after Drummond. Now,
note me well: I saw him going eastward in his tartans
and bonnet, and the gilded hilt of his claymore glittering
in the moon; and, at the very same time, I saw two men,
the one in black, and the other likewise in tartans, com-
ing toward the steps from the opposite bank, by the foot
of the loch; and I saw Drummond and they eyeing each
other as they passed. I kept view of him till he vanished
towards Leith Wynd, and by that time the two strangers
had come close up under our window. This is what I
wish you to pay particular attention to. I had only lost
sight of Drummond, (who had given me his name and ad-
dress,) for the short space of time that we took in run.
ning up one pair of short stairs; and during that space he
had halted a moment, for, when I got my eye on him
again, he had not crossed the mouth of the next entry,
nor proceeded above ten or twelve paces, and, at the same
time, I saw the two men coming down the bank on the
opposite side of the loch, at about three hundred paces'
distance. Both he and they were distinctly in my view,
and never within speech of each other, until he vanished
into one of the wynds leading toward the bottom of the
High Street, at which precise time the two strangers
came below my window; so that it was quite clear he
neither could be one of them, nor have any communica-
tion with them.
“ Yet, mark me again; for of all things I have ever
seen, this was the most singular. When I looked down
at the two strangers, one of them was extremely like Drum-
mond. So like was he, that there was not one item in
dress, form, feature, nor voice, by which I could dis-
tinguish the one from the other. I was certain it was
not he, because I had seen the one going and the other
approaching at the same time, and my impression at the
moment was, that I looked upon some spirit, or demon,
in his likeness. I felt a chillness creep all round my
heart, my knees tottered, and, withdrawing my head from
the open casement that lay in the dark shade, I said
F 2


70
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
to the man who was with me, “Good God, what is
this!'
“ • What is it, my dear? said he, as much alarmed as
I was.
" • As I live, there stands an apparition !' said I.
“ He was not so much afraid when he heard me say
. so, and peeping cautiously out, he looked and listened a
while, and then drawing back, he said in a whisper, · They
are both living men, and one of them is he I passed at
the corner.'
“ • That he is not,' said I, emphatically. “To that I
will make oath.'
“ He smiled and shook his head, and then added, I
never then saw a man before, whom I could not know
again, particularly if he was the very last I had seen. But
what matters it whether it be or not? As it is no con-
cern of ours, let us sit down and enjoy ourselves.'
" But it does matter a very great deal with me, sir,'
said I.- Bless me, my head is giddy-my breath quite
gone, and I feel as if I were surrounded with fiends!
Who are you, sir ?
" • You shall know that ere we two part, my love,'
said he: I cannot conceive why the return of this young
gentleman to the spot he so lately left, should discom-
pose you? I suppose he got a glance of you as he pass-
ed, and has returned to look after you, and that is the
whole secret of the matter.'
" • If you will be so civil as to walk out and join him
then, it will oblige me hugely,' said I, for I never in my
Jife experienced such boding apprehensions of evil com-
pany. I cannot conceive how you should come up here
without asking my permission ? Will it please you to
begone, sir?' - I was within an ace of prevailing. He
took out his purse-I need not say more-I was bribed
to let him remain. Ah, had I kept by my frail resolu-
tion of dismissing him at that moment, what a world of
shame and misery had been evited! But that, though
uppermost still in my mind, has nothing ado here.
“When I peeped over again, the two men were dis-


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
71
puting in a whisper, the one of them in violent agitation
and terror, and the other upbraiding him, and urging him
on to some desperate act. At length I heard the young
man in the Highland garb say indignantly, - Hush, recre-
ant! It is God's work which you are commissioned to
execute, and it must be done. But if you positively
decline it, I will do it myself, and do you beware of the
consequences.”
" • Oh, I will, I will !" cried the other in black clothes,
in a wretched beseeching tone. You shall instruct me
in this, as in all things else.'
“I thought all this while I was closely concealed from
them, and wondered not a little when he in tartans gave
me a sly nod, as much as to say, 'What do you think of
this?' or, .Take note of what you see,' or something to
that effect, from which I perceived, that whatever he was
about, he did not wish it to be kept a secret. For all
that, I was impressed with a terror and anxiety that I
could not overcome, but it only made me mark every
event with the more intense curiosity. The Highlander,
whom I still could not help regarding as the evil genius
of Thomas Drummond, performed every action, as with
the quickness of thought. He concealed the youth in
black in a narrow entry, a little to the westward of my
windows, and as he was leading him across the moonlight
green by the shoulder, I perceived, for the first time,
that both of them were armed with rapiers. He pushed
him without resistance into the dark shaded close, made
another signal to me, and hasted up the close to Lucky
Sudds' door. The city and the morning were so still,
that I heard every word that was uttered, on putting my
head out a little. He knocked at the door sharply, and
after waiting a considerable space, the bolt was drawn,
and the door, as I conceived, edged up as far as the
massy chain would let it. • Is young Dalcastle still in
the house ?' said he sharply.
“I did not hear the answer, but I heard him say,
shortly after, ' If he is, pray tell him to speak with me
for a few minutes. He then withdrew from the door,


72
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
and came slowly down the close, in a lingering manner,
looking oft behind him. Dalcastle came out; advanced
a few steps after him, and then stood still, as if hesitating
whether or not he should call out a friend to accompany
him; and that instant the door behind him was closed,
chained, and the iron bolt drawn; on hearing of which,
he followed his adversary without farther hesitation. As
he passed below my window, I heard him say, I be.
seech you, Tom, let us do nothing in this matter rashly;'
but I could not hear the answer of the other, who had
turned the corner.
“ I roused up my drowsy companion, who was leaning
on the bed, and we both looked together from the north
window. We were in the shade, but the moon shone full
on the two young gentlemen. Young Dalcastle was visi-
bly the worse of liquor, and his back being turned toward
us, he said something to the other which I could not
make out, although he spoke a considerable time, and,
from his tones and gestures, appeared to be reasoning.
When he had done, the tall young man in the tartans
drew his sword, and his face being straight to us, we
heard him say distinctly, •No more words about it,
George, if you please ; but if you be a man, as I take
you to be, draw your sword, and let us settle it here.'
" Dalcastle drew his sword, without changing his atti.
tude ; but he spoke with more warmth, for we heard his
words, ' Think you that I fear you, Tom? Be assured,
sir, I would not fear ten of the best of your name, at each
other's backs: all that I want is to have friends with us
to see fair play, for if you close with me, you are a dead
man.'
“ The other stormed at these words. “You are a
braggart, sir,' cried he, 'a wretch-a blot on the cheek
of nature--a blight on the Christian world—a reprobate
I'll have your soul, sir.' As he said this, he brandished
his rapier, exciting Dalcastle to offence. He gained his
point: the latter, who had previously drawn, advanced
in upon his vapouring and licentious antagonist, and a
fierce combat ensued. My companion was delighted be.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
75
that this same man,—this wretch of whom I speak, never
inistook one man for another in his life, which makes the
mystery of the likeness between this incendiary and Drum-
mond the more extraordinary.”
.“ If it was Drummond, after all that you have asserted,
then are my surmises still wrong.”
“ There is nothing of which I can be more certain,
than that it was not Drummond. We have nothing on
earth but our senses to depend upon : if these deceive
us, what are we to do? I own I cannot account for it ;
nor ever shall be able to account for it as long as I live."
“ Could you know the man in black, if you saw him
again ?”
“I think I could, if I saw him walk or run: his gait
was very particular : he walked as if he had been flat-
soled, and his legs made of steel, without any joints in
his feet or ancles."
“ The very same! The very same! The very same!
Pray will you take a few days' journey into the country
with me, to look at such a man ?"
“ You have preserved my life, and for you I will do
any thing. I will accompany you with pleasure : and I
think I can say that I will know him, for his form left an
impression on my heart not soon to be effaced. But of
this. I am sure, that my unworthy companion will recog-
nize him, and that he will be able to swear to his identity
every day as long as he lives.”
"Where is he? Where is he? O! Mrs Calvert, where
is he?"
“ Where is he? He is the wretch whom you heard
giving me up to the death ; who, after experiencing every
mark of affection that a poor ruined being could confer,
and after committing a thousand atrocities of which she
was ignorant, became an informer to save his diabolical
life, and attempted to offer up mine as a sacrifice for all.
We will go by ourselves first, and I will tell you if it is
necessary to send any farther.”
“ The two dames, the very next morning, dressed
themselves like country goodwives; and, hiring two stout


76
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
ponies furnished with pillions, they took their journey
westward, and the second evening after leaving Edinburgh
they arrived at the village about two miles below Dalcastle,
where they alighted. But Mrs Logan being anxious to
have Mrs Calvert's judgment, without either hint or
preparation, took care not to mention that they were so
near to the end of their journey. In conformity with
this plan, she said, after they had sat a while, “ Heigh-ho,
but I am weary! What suppose we should rest a day
here before we proceed farther on our journey ?”
Mrs Calvert was leaning on the casement, and looking
out when her companion addressed these words to her,
and by far too much engaged to return any answer, for
her eyes were riveted on two young men who approach-
ed from the farther end of the village ; and at length, turn.
ing round her head, she said, with the most intense in-
terest, “ Proceed farther on our journey, did you say?
That we need not do ; for, as I live, here comes the very
man !"
Mrs Logan ran to the window, and behold there was
indeed Robert Wringhim Colwan (now the Laird of Dal-
castle) coming forward almost below their window, walk-
ing arm in arm with another young man ; and as the two
passed, the latter looked up and made a sly signal to the
two dames, biting his lip, winking with his left eye, and
nodding his head. Mrs Calvert was astonished at this
recognizance, the young man's former companion having
made exactly such another signal on the night of the
duel, by the light of the moon; and it struck her, more.
over, that she had somewhere seen this young man's face
before. She looked after him, and he winked over his
shoulder to her ; but she was prevented from returning
his salute by her companion, who uttered a loud cry, be-
tween a groan and shriek, and fell down on the floor with
a rumble like a wall that had suddenly been undermined
She had fainted quite away, and required all her com-
panion's a.tention during the remainder of the evening,
for she had scarcely ever well recovered out of one fit
before she fell into another; and in the short intervals she


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
77
raved like one distracted, or in a dream. After falling
into a sound sleep by night, she recovered her equanimity,
and the two began to converse seriously on what they
had seen. Mrs Calvert averred that the young man who
passed next to the window, was the very man who stab-
bed George Colwan in the back, and she said she was will-
ing to take her oath on it at any time when required,
and was certain if the wretch Ridsley saw him, that he
would make oath to the same purport, for that his walk
was so peculiar, no one of common discernment could
mistake it.
Mrs Logan was in great agitation, and said, “ It is
what I have suspected all along, and what I am sure my
late master and benefactor was persuaded of, and the hor-
ror of such an idea cut short his days. That wretch,
Mrs Calvert, is the born brother of him he murdered ;
sons of the same mother they were, whether or not of
the same father, the Lord only knows. But, O Mrs
Calvert, that is not the main thing that has discomposed
me, and shaken my nerves to pieces at this time. Who
do you think the young man was who walked in his
company to-night?"
“ I cannot for my life recollect, but am convinced I
have seen the same fine form and face before.”
" And did not he seem to know us, Mrs Calvert ?
You who are able to recollect things as they happened,
did he not seem to recollect us, and make signs to that
effect ?"
“He did, indeed, and apparently with great good hu-
mour."
“0, Mrs Calvert, hold me, else I shall fall into hys-
terics again ! Who is he? Who is he? Tell me who you
suppose he is, for I cannot say my own thought."
“ O my life, I cannot remember.”
“ Did you note the appearance of the young gentle-
man you saw slain that night? Do you recollect aught
of the appearance of my young master, George Col-
wan?"
Mrs Calvert sat silent, and stared the other mildly in


: 78
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
the face. Their looks encountered, and there was an
unearthly amazement that gleamed from each, which,
meeting together, caught real fire, and returned the flame
to their heated imaginations, till the two associates be-
.came like two statues, with their hands spread, their
eyes fixed, and their chops fallen down upon their bo-
soms. An old woman who kept the lodging-house,
having been called in before when Mrs Logan was faint-
ish, chanced to enter at this crisis with some cordial;
and, seeing the state of her lodgers, she caught the in-
fection, and fell into the same rigid and statue-like appear-
ance. No scene more striking was 'ever exhibited ; and
if Mrs Calvert had not resumed strength of mind to
speak, and break the spell, it is impossible to say how
long it might have continued. " It is he, I believe,” said
she, uttering the words as it were inwardly. “It can
be none other but he. But, no, it is impossible ! I saw
him stabbed through and through the heart ; I saw him
roll backward on the green in his own blood, utter his
last words, and groan away his soul. Yet, if it is not
he, who can it be?” .
" It is he !" cried Mrs Logan, hysterically.
“ Yes, yes, it is he !" cried the landlady, in unison.
“ It is who ?" said Mrs Calvert ; “ whom do you
mean, mistress ?"
"Oh, I don't know! I don't know! I was affrighted."
“ Hold your peace then till you recover your senses,
and tell me, if you can, who that young gentleman is,
who keeps company with the new Laird of Dalcastle ?"
“Oh, it is he! it is he !" screamed Mrs Logan, wring-
ing her hands.
“ Oh, it is he! it is he !" cried the landlady, wring-
ing hers.
Mrs Calvert turned the latter gently and civilly out
of the apartment, observing that there seemed to be some
infection in the air of the room, and she would be wise
for herself to keep out of it.
The two dames had a restless and hideous night.
Sleep came not to their relief; for their conversation was


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
79
wholly about the dead, who seemed to be alive, and their
minds were wandering and groping in a chaos of mys-
tery. “ Did you attend to his corpse, and know that he
positively died and was buried ?" said Mrs Calvert.
“O, yes, from the moment that his fair but mangled
corpse was brought home, I attended it till that when
it was screwed in the coffin. Iwashed the long stripes
of blood from his lifeless form, on both sides of the body
-I bathed the livid wound that passed through his
generous and gentle heart. There was one through the
flesh of his left side too, which had bled most outwardly
of them all. I bathed them, and bandaged them up with
wax and perfumed ointment, but still the blood oozed
through all, so that when he was laid in the coffin he was
like one newly murdered. My brave, my generous
young master ! he was always as a son to me, and no son
was ever more kind or more respectful to a mother.
But he was butchered-he was cut off from the earth
ere he had well reached to manhood-most barbarously
and unfairly slain. And how is it, how can it be, that
we again see him here, walking arm in arm with his mur-
derer ?"
“ The thing cannot be, Mrs Logan. It is a phan-
tasy of our disturbed imaginations, therefore let us com-
pose ourselves till we investigate this matter farther."
“ It cannot be in nature, that is quite clear,” said Mrs
Logan ; " yet how it should be that I should think so—I
who knew and nursed him from his infancy—there lies
the paradox. As you said once before, we have nothing
but our senses to depend on, and if you and I believe
that we see a person, why, we do see him. Whose word,
or whose reasoning can convince us against our own sen-
ses? We will disguise ourselves, as poor women selling
a few country wares, and we will go up to the Hall, and
see what is to see, and hear what we can hear, for this
is a weighty business in which we are engaged, namely,
to turn the vengeance of the law upon an unnatural mons-
ter; and we will farther learn, if we can, who this is that
accompanies him.”


80
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
Mrs Calvert acquiesced, and the two dames took
their way to Dalcastle, with baskets well furnished with
trifles. They did not take the common path from the
village, but went about, and approached the mansion by
a different way. But it seemed as if some overruling
power ordered it, that they should miss no chance of at-
taining the information they wanted. For ere ever they
came within half a mile of Dalcastle, they perceived the
two youths coming, as to meet them, on the same path.
The road leading from Dalcastle toward the north-east,
as all the country knows, goes along a dark bank of
brushwood called the Bogle-heuch. It was by this track
that the two women were going ; and when they perceiv-
ed the two gentlemen meeting them, they turned back,
and the moment they were out of their sight, they con-
cealed themselves in a thicket close by the road. They
did this because Mrs Logan was terrified for being dis-
covered, and because they wished to reconnoitre without
being seen. Mrs Calvert now charged her, whatever
she saw, or whatever she heard, to put on a resolution,
and support it, for if she fainted there and was discov.
ered, what was to become of her!
The two young men came on, in earnest and vehement
conversation ; but the subject they were on was a terri-
ble one, and hardly fit to be repeated in the face of a
Christian community. Wringhim was disputing the
boundlessness of the true Christian's freedom, and ex-
pressing doubts, that, chosen as he knew he was from all
eternity, still it might be possible for him to commit acts
that would exclude him from the limits of the covenant.
The other argued, with mighty fluency, that the thing
was utterly impossible, and altogether inconsistent with
eternal predestination. The arguments of the latter
prevailed, and the laird was driven to sullen silence. But,
to the women's utter surprise, as the conquering dispu.
tant passed, he made a signal of recognizance through
the brambles to them, as formerly, and that he might ex-
pose his associate fully, and in his true colours, he led
him backward and forward past the women more than


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
81
twenty times, making him to confess both the crimes
that he had done, and those he had in contemplation.
At length he said to him, “ Assuredly I saw some stroll-
ing vagrant women on this walk, my dear friend : I wish
we could find them, for there is little doubt that they are
concealed here in your woods.”
" I wish we could find them,” answered Wringhim ;
“we would have fine sport maltreating and abusing
them.”
“ That we should, that we should ! Now tell me,
Robert, if you found a malevolent woman, the latent
enemy of your prosperity, lurking in these woods to be-
tray you, what would you inflict on her ?” .
“I would tear her to pieces with my dogs, and feed
them with her flesh. · 0, my dear friend, there is an old
strumpet who lived with my unnatural father, whom I
hold in such utter detestation, that I stand constantly in
dread of her, and would sacrifice the half of my estate
to shed her blood !"
“ What will you give me if I will put her in your
power, and give you a fair and genuine excuse for mak-
ing away with her ; one for which you shall answer at
any bar, here or hereafter?”
“ I should like to see the vile hag put down. She is
in possession of the family plate, that is mine by right,
as well as a thousand valuable relics, and great riches be-
sides, all of which the old profligate gifted shamefully
away. And it is said, besides all these, that she has
sworn my destruction.”
“She has, she has. But I see not how she can ac-
complish that, seeing the deed was done so suddenly,
and in the silence of the night.”
“ It was said there were some onlookers.---But where
shall we find that disgraceful Miss Logan?”
“I will show you her by and by. But will you then
consent to the other meritorious deed ? Come, be a
man, and throw away scruples.”
"If you can convince me that the promise is binding,
I will."
G 2


82
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
“ Then step this way, till I give you a piece of infor-
mation."
They walked a little way out of hearing, but went
not out of sight; therefore, though the women were in
a terrible quandary, they durst not stir, for they had
some hopes that this extraordinary person was on a mis-
sion of the same sort with themselves, knew of them,
and was going to make use of their testimony. Mrs
Logan was several times on the point of falling into a
swoon, so much did the appearance of the young man
impress her, until her associate covered her face that she
might listen without embarrassment. But this latter dia.
logue aroused different feelings within them ; namely,
those arising from imminent personal danger. They saw
his waggish associate point out the place of their con.
cealment to Wringhim, who came toward them, out of
curiosity to see what his friend meant by what he be-
lieved to be a joke, manifestly without crediting it in the
least degree. When he came running away, the other
called after him, “If she is too hard for you, call to
me.” As he said this, he hasted out of sight, in the
contrary direction, apparently much delighted with the
joke.
Wringhim came rushing through the thicket impetu-
ously, to the very spot where Mrs Logan lay squatted.
She held the wrapping close about her head, but he tore
it off and discovered her. “ The curse of God be on
thee !” said he ; “ What fiend has brought thee here,
and for what purpose art thou come? But, whatever
has brought thee, I have thee !” and with that he seized
her by the throat. The two women, when they heard
what jeopardy they were in from such a wretch, had
squatted among the underwood at a small distance from
each other, so that he had never observed Mrs Calvert ;
but no sooner had he seized her benefactress, than, like
a wild cat, she sprung out of the thicket, and had both
her hands fixed at his throat, one of them twisted in his
stock, in a twinkling. She brought him back-over among
the brushwood, and the two, fixing on him like two har.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
83
pies, mastered him with ease. Then indeed was he
wofully beset. He deemed for a while that his friend
was at his back, and turning his bloodshot eyes toward
the path, he attempted to call ; but there was no friend
there, and the women cut short his cries by another twist
of his stock. “ Now, gallant and rightful Laird of Dal.
castle,” said Mrs Logan, " what hast thou to say for
thyself ? Lay thy account to dree the weird thou hast
so well earned. Now shalt thou suffer due penance for
murdering thy brave and only brother."
“ Thou liest, thou hag of the pit! I touched not my
brother's life.”
" I saw thee do it with these eyes that now look thee
in the face; ay, when his back was to thee too, and
while he was hotly engaged with thy friend,” said Mrs
Calvert.
“I heard thee confess it again and again this same
hour,” said Mrs Logan.
“Ay, and so did I,” said her companion. " Murder
will out, though the Almighty should lend hearing to
the ears of the willow, and speech to the seven tongues
of the woodriff.”
“ You are liars, and witches !” said he, foaming with
rage, “and creatures fitted from the beginning for eter-
nal destruction. I'll have your bones and your blood
sacrificed on your cursed altars ! O, Gil-Martin ! Gil-
Martin ! where art thou now? Here, here is the proper
food for blessed vengeance Hilloa !”
There was no friend, no Gil-Martin there to hear or
assist him: he was in the two women's mercy, but they
used it with moderation. They mocked, they torment-
ed, and they threatened him ; but, finally, after putting
him in great terror, they bound his hands behind his
back, and his feet fast with long straps of garters which
they chanced to have in their baskets, to prevent him
from pursuing them till they were out of his reach. As
they left him, which they did in the middle of the path,
Mrs Calvert said, “ we could easily put an end to thy
sinful life, but our hands shall be free of thy blood.


THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
Nevertheless thou art still in our power, and the ven-
geance of thy country shall overtake thee, thou mean
and cowardly murderer, ay, and that more suddenly than
thou art aware !"
The women posted to Edinburgh; and as they put
themselves under the protection of an English merchant,
who was journeying thither with twenty horses laden,
and armed servants, so they had scarcely any conversa-
tion on the road. When they arrived at Mrs Logan's
house, then they spoke of what they had seen and heard,
and agreed that they had sufficient proof to condemn
young Wringhim, who they thought richly deserved the
severest doom of the law.
“ I never in my life saw any human being,” said Mrs
Calvert, “whom I thought so like a fiend. If a demon
could inherit flesh and blood, that youth is precisely
such a being as I could conceive that demon to be.' The
depth and the malignity of his eye is hideous. His breath
is like the airs from a charnel-house, and his flesh seems
fading from his bones, as if the worm that never dies were
gnawing it away already.”
“ He was always repulsive, and every way repulsive,"
said the other; “ but he is now indeed altered greatly to
the worse. While we were handfasting him, I felt his
body to be feeble and emaciated ; but yet I know him to
be so puffed up with 'spiritual pride, that I believe he
weens every one of his actions justified before God, and
instead of having stings of conscience for these, he takes
great merit to himself in having effected them. Still my
thoughts are less about him than the extraordinary being
who accompanies him. He does every thing with so
much ease and indifference, so much velocity and effect,
that all bespeak him an adept in wickedness. The like.
ness to my late hapless young master is so striking, that I
can hardly believe it to be a chance model; and I think he
imitates him in every thing, for some purpose, or some
effect on his sinful associate. Do you know that he is so
like in every lineament, look, and gesture, that, against
the clearest light of reason, I cannot in my mind separ-


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
85
ate the one from the other, and have a certain indefin-
able impression on my mind, that they are one and the
same being, or that the one was a prototype of the
other.”
“ If there is an earthly crime,” said Mrs Calvert, “ for
the due punishment of which the Almighty may be sup-
posed to subvert the order of nature, it is fratricide. But
tell me, dear friend, did you remark to what the subtile
and hellish villain was endeavouring to prompt the
assassin ?"
“ No, I could not comprehend it. My senses were
altogether so bewildered, that I thought they had com-
bined to deceive me, and I gave them no credit."
" Then hear me: I am almost certain he was using
every persuasion to induce him to make away with his
mother; and I likewise conceive that I heard the incen-
diary give his consent.
“ This is dreadful. Let us speak and think no more
about it, till we see the issue. In the meantime, let us
do that which is our bounden duty,-go and divulge all
that we know relating to this foul murder.”
Accordingly the two women went to Sir Thomas Wal-
lace of Craigie, the Lord Justice Clerk, (who was, I think,
either uncle or grandfather to young Drummond, who was
outlawed, and obliged to fly his country on account of Col-
wan's death,) and to that gentleman they related every
circumstance of what they had seen and heard. He ex-
amined Calvert very minutely, and seemed deeply inter-
ested in her evidence, said he knew she was relating the
truth, and in testimony of it, brought a letter of young
Drummond's from his desk, wherein that young gentle-
man, after protesting his innocence in the most forcible
terms, confessed having been with such a woman in such
a house, after leaving the company of his friends; and that
on going home, Sir Thomas's servant had let him in, in
the dark, and from these circumstances he found it im-
possible to prove an alibi. He begged of his relative, if
ever an opportunity offered, to do his endeavour to clear
up that mystery, and remove the horrid stigma from his


86
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
name in his country, and among his kin, of having stab-
bed a friend behind his back.
Lord Craigie, therefore, directed the two women to
the proper authorities, and after hearing their evidence
there, it was judged proper to apprehend the present
Laird of Dalcastle, and bring him to his trial. But before
that, they sent the prisoner in the tolbooth, he who had
seen the whole transaction along with Mrs Calvert, to
take a view of Wringhim privately; and his discrimina-
tion being so well known as to be proverbial all over the
land, they determined secretly to be ruled by his report.
They accordingly sent him on a pretended mission of
legality to Dalcastle, with orders to see and speak with
the proprietor, without giving him a hint what was wanted.
On his return, they examined him, and he told them that
he found all things at the place in utter confusion and
dismay; that the lady of the place was missing, and could
not be found, dead or alive. On being asked if he had
ever seen the proprietor before, he looked astounded, and
unwilling to answer. But it came out that he had; and
that he had once seen him kill a man on such a spot at
such an hour.
Officers were then despatched, without delay, to ap-
prehend the monster, and bring him to justice. On
these going to the mansion, and inquiring for him, they
were told he was at home; on which they stationed
guards, and searched all the premises, but he was not to
be found. It was in vain that they overturned beds,
raised floors, and broke open closets : Robert Wringhim
Colwan was lost once and for ever. His mother also
was lost; and strong suspicions attached to some of the
farmers and house servants, to whom she was obnoxious,
relating to her disappearance. The Honourable Thomas
Drummond became a distinguished officer in the Austrian
service, and died in the memorable year for Scotland,
1715; and this is all with which history, justiciary re-
cords, and tradition, furnish me relating to these matters.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
87
I have now the pleasure of presenting my readers with
an original document of a most singular nature, and pre-
served for their perusal in a still more singular manner.
I offer no remarks on it, and make as few additions to it,
leaving every one to judge for himself. We have heard
much of the rage of fanaticism in former days, but noth-
ing to this.


PRIVATE MEMOIRS
AND
CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
My life has been a life of trouble and turmoil; of change
and vicissitude ; of anger and exultation; of sorrow and
of vengeance. My sorrows have all been for a slighted
gospel, and my vengeance has been wreaked on its ad-
versaries. Therefore, in the might of heaven I will sit
down and write: I will let the wicked of this world know
what I have done in the faith of the promises, that they
may read and tremble, and bless their gods of silver and
of gold, that the minister of heaven was removed from
their sphere before their blood was mingled with their
sacrifices.
I was born an outcast in the world, in which I was
destined to act so conspicuous a part. My mother was a
burning and shining light, in the community of Scottish
worthies, and in the days of her virginity had suffered
much in the persecution of the saints. But it so pleased
Heaven, that, as a trial of her faith, she was married to
one of the wicked; a man all over spotted with the le-
prosy of sin. As well might they have conjoined fire and
water together, in hopes that they would consort and
amalgamate, as purity and corruption: she fled from his
embraces the first night after their marriage, and from that
time forth, his iniquities so galled her upright heart, that
she quitted his society altogether, keeping her own apart-
ments in the same house with him.
I was the second son of this unhappy marriage, and,


PRIVATE MEMOIRS, CONFESSIONS, &c.
89
long ere ever I was born, my father according to the flesh
disclaimed all relation or connexion with me, and all in-
terest in me, save what the law compelled him to take,
which was to grant me a scanty maintenance; and had it
not been for a faithful minister of the gospel, my mother's
early instructor, I should have remained an outcast from
the church visible. He took pity on me, admitting me
not only into that, but into the bosom of his own house-
hold and ministry also, and to him am I indebted, under
Heaven, for the high conceptions and glorious discernment
between good and evil, right and wrong, which I attained
even at an early age. It was he who directed my studies
aright, both in the learning of the ancient fathers, and the
doctrines of the reformed church, and designed me for
his assistant and successor in the holy office. I missed
no opportunity of perfecting myself particularly in all the
minute points of theology in which my reverend father and
mother took great delight; but at length I acquired so
much skill, that I astonished my teachers, and made
them gaze at one another. I remember that it was the
custom, in my patron's house, to ask the questions of the
Single Catechism round every Sabbath night. He asked
the first, my mother the second, and so on, every one
saying the question asked, and then asking the next. It
fell to my mother to ask Effectual Calling at me. I said
the answer with propriety and emphasis. “Now,
madam," added I, “my question to you is, What is Inef-
fectual Calling?"
“ Ineffectual Calling? There is no such thing, Robert,”
said she.
“ But there is, madam,” said I; "and that answer
proves how much you say these fundamental precepts by
rote, and without any consideration. Ineffectual Calling
is, the outward call of the gospel without any effect on the
hearts of unregenerated and impenitent sinners. Have
not all these the same calls, warnings, doctrines, and re-
proofs, that we have? and is not this Ineffectual Calling?
Has not Ardinferry the same? Has not Patrick M.Lure
the same? Has not the Laird of Dalcastle and his repro-
V


90
PRIVATE NEMOIRS AND
bate heir the same? And will any tell me, that this is not
Ineffectual Calling?"
.“ What a wonderful boy he is!” said my mother.
“ I'm feared he turn out to be a conceited gowk,” said
old Barnet, the minister's man.
“ No,” said my pastor, and father, (as I shall hence-
forth denominate him, " No, Barnet, he is a wonderful
boy; and no marvel, for I have prayed for these talents
to be bestowed on him from his infancy: and do you
think that Heaven would refuse a prayer so disinterested?
No, it is impossible. But my dread is, madam,” con-
tinued he, turning to my mother," that he is yet in the
bond of iniquity."
“ God forbid !” said my mother.
“I have struggled with the Almighty long and hard,"
continued he; “but have as yet had no certain token of
acceptance in his behalf. How dreadful is it to think of
our darling being still without the pale of the covenant!
But I have vowed a vow, and in that there is hope."
My heart quaked with terror, when I thought of being
still living in a state of reprobation, subjected to the aw-
ful issues of death, judgment, and eternal misery, by the
slightest accident or casualty, and I set about the duty of
prayer myself with the utmost earnestness. I prayed
three times every day, and seven times on the Sabbath ;
but the more frequently and fervently that I prayed, I
sinned still the more. About this time, and for a long
period afterwards, amounting to several years, I lived in
a hopeless and deplorable state of mind, for I said to my
self, “ If my name is not written in the book of life from
all eternity, it is in vain for me to presume that either
vows or prayers of mine, or those of all mankind com-
bined, can ever procure its insertion now.” I had come
under many vows, most solemnly taken, every one of
which I had broken; and I saw with the intensity of ju.
venile grief, that there was no hope for me. I went on
sinning every hour, and all the while most strenuously
warring against sin, and repenting of every one trans-
gression, as soon after the commission of it as I got leisure


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
91
to think. But what a wretched state this unregen-
erated state is, in which every effort only aggravates our
offences! I found it vanity to contend; for, after com-
muning with my heart, the conclusion was as follows:
“If I could repent me of all my sins, and shed tears of
blood for them, still have I not a load of original trans-
gression pressing on me, that is enough to crush me to
the lowest hell. I may be angry with my first parents for
having sinned, but how I shall repent me of their sin, is
beyond what I am able to comprehend."
Still, in those days of depravity and corruption, I had
some of those principles implanted in my mind, which
were afterward to spring up with amazing fertility. In
particular, I felt great indignation against all the wicked
of this world, and often wished for the means of ridding
it of such a noxious burden.
It was about this time that my reverend father preach-
ed a sermon, one sentence of which affected me most
disagreeably : it was to the purport, that every unrepen-
ted sin was productive of a new sin with each breath
that a man drew ; and every one of these new sins added
to the catalogue in the same manner. I was utterly con-
founded at the multitude of my transgressions ; for I was
sensible that there were great numbers of sins of which I
had never been able thoroughly to repent, and these mo-
mentary ones, by a moderate calculation, had, I saw, long
ago amounted to a hundred and fifty thousand in the
minute, and I saw no end to the series of repentances to
which I had subjected myself. A lifetime was nothing
to enable me to accomplish the sum, and then being, for
any thing I was certain of, in my state of nature, and
the grace of repentance withheld from me,- what was I
to do, or what was to become of me? In the mean time,
I went on sinning without measure ; but I was still more
troubled about the multitude than the magnitude of my
transgressions, and the small minute ones puzzled me
more than those that were more heinous, as the latter
had generally some good effects in the way of punishing
wicked men, froward boys, and deceitful women; and I


4
I'RIVATE MEMOIRS AND
rejoiced even then in my early youth, at being used as a
scourge in the hand of the Lord; another Jebu, a Cyrus,
or a Nebuchadnezzar,
On the whole, I remember that I got into great con.
fusion relating to my sins and repentances. I could not
help running into new sing continually ; but then I was
inercifully dealt with, for I was often made to repent of
them most heartily, by reason of bodily chastisements
received on these delinquencies being discovered. I was
particularly prone to lying, and I cannot but admire the
mercy that has freely forgiven me all these juvenile sins.
Now that I know them all to be blotted out, I may the
more freely confess them : the truth is, that one lie always
paved the way for another, from hour to hour, from day
to day, and from year to year ; so that I found myself
constantly involved in a labyrinth of deceit, from which
it was impossible to extricate myself. If I knew a per-
son to be a godly one, I could almost have kissed his
feet ; but against the carnal portion of mankind, I set my
face continually. I esteemed the true ministers of the
gospel ; but the prelatic party, and the preachers up of
good works I abhorred, and to this hour I account them
the worst and most heinous of all transgressors,
There was only one boy at Mr Wilson's class, who
kept always the upper hand of me in every part of edu.
cation. I strove against him from year to year, but it
was all in vain; for he was a very wicked boy, and I was
convinced he had dealings with the devil. Indeed it was
believed all over the country that his mnother was a witch ;
and I was at length convinced that it was no human in-
genuity that beat me with so much ease in the Latin, af.
ter I had often sat up a whole night with my reverend fa-
ther, studying my lesson in all its bearings. I often read
as well and sometimes better than he ; but the moment
Mr Wilson began to examine us, my opponent popped
up above me. I determined, (ns I knew him for a wicked
person, and one of the devil's hand-lasted children,) to be
revenged on him, and to humble him by some means of
other. Accordingly I lost no opportunity of setting the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
93
master against him, and succeeded several times in get-
ting him severely beaten for faults of which he was inno-
cent. I can hardly describe the joy that it gave to my
heart to see a wicked creature suffering, for though he
deserved it not for one thing, he richly deserved it for
others. This may be by some people accounted a great
sin in me; but I deny it, for I did it as a duty, and what
a man or boy does for the right, will never be put into
the sum of his transgressions.
This boy, whose name was M'Gill, was at all his lei-
sure hours, engaged in drawing profane pictures of beasts,
men, women, houses, and trees, and, in short, of all things
that his eye encountered. These profane things the
Master often smiled at, and admired; therefore I began
privately to try my hand likewise. I had scarcely tried
above once to draw the figure of a man, ere I conceived
that I had hit the very features of Mr Wilson. They
were so particular, that they could not be easily mista-
ken, aud I was so tickled and pleased with the droll like-
ness that I had drawn, that I laughed immoderately at it.
I tried no other figure but this ; and I tried it in every
situation in which a man and a schoolmaster could be
placed. I often wrought for hours together at this like-
ness, nor was it long before I made myself so much mas-
ter of the outline, that I could have drawn it in any si-
tuation whatever, almost off hand. I then took M'Gill's
account book of algebra home with me, and at my leisure
put down a number of gross caricatures of Mr Wilson
here and there, several of them in situations notoriously
ludicrous. I waited the discovery of this treasure with
great impatience; but the book, chancing to be one that
M‘Gill was not using, I saw it might be long enough be-
fore I enjoyed the consummation of my grand scheme :
therefore, with all the ingenuity I was master of, I brought
it before our dominie's eye. But never shall I forget the
rage that gleamed in the tyrant's phiz! I was actually
terrified to look at him, and trembled at his voice.
M'Gill was called upon, and examined relating to the
obnoxious figures. He denied flatly that any of them were
H
2


94
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
of his doing. But the Master inquiring at him whose
they were, he could not tell, but affirmed it to be some
trick. Mr Wilson at one time began, as I thought, to
hesitate ; but the evidence was so strong against M'Gill,
that at length his solemn asseverations of innocence only
proved an aggravation of his crime. There was not one
in the school who had ever been known to draw a figure
but himself, and on hirn fell the whole weight of the ty-
rant's vengeance. It was dreadful; and I was once in
hopes that he would not leave life in the culprit. He,
however, left the school for several months, refusing to
return to be subjected to punishment for the faults of
others, and I stood king of the class.
Matters were at last made up between M'Gill's parents
and the schoolmaster ; but by that time I had got the start
of him, and never in my life did I exert myself so much
to keep the mastery. It was in vain; the powers of
enchantment prevailed, and I was again turned down with
the tear in my eye. I could think of no amends but
one, and being driven to desperation, I put it in practice.
I told a lie of him. I came boldly up to the master,
and told him that M'Gill had in my hearing cursed him
in a most shocking manner, and called him vile names.
He called M Gill, and charged him with the crime, and
the proud young coxcomb was so stunned at the atrocity
of the charge, that his face grew as red as crimson, and
the words stuck in his throat as he feebly denied it. His
guilt was manifest, and he was again flogged most nobly,
and dismissed the school for ever in disgrace, as a most
incorrigible vagabond.
This was a great victory gained, and I rejoiced and
exulted exceedingly in it. It had, however, very nigh
cost me my life ; for not long thereafter, I encountered
M‘Gill in the fields, on which he came up and challenged
me for a liar, daring me to fight him. I refused, and said
that I looked on him as quite below my notice; but he
would not quit me, and finally told me that he should
either lick me, or I should lick him, as he had no other
means of being revenged on such a scoundrel. I tried


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
95
to intimidate him, but it would not do ; and I believe I
would have given all that I had in the world to be quit of
him. He at length went so far as first to kick me, and
then strike me on the face; and, being both older and
stronger than he, I thought it scarcely became me to take
such insults patiently. I was, nevertheless, well aware
that the devilish powers of his mother would finally pre-
vail ; and either the dread of this, or the inward conscious-
ness of having wronged him, certainly unnerved my arm,
for I fought wretchedly, and was soon wholly overcome.
I was so sore defeated, that I kneeled, and was going to
beg his pardon ; but another thought struck me moment-
arily, and I threw myself on my face, and inwardly beg-
ged aid from heaven ; at the same time I felt as if assured
that my prayer was heard, and would be answered. While
I was in this humble attitude, the villain kicked me with
his foot and cursed me ; and I being newly encouraged,
arose and encountered him once more. We had not
fought long at this second turn, before I saw a man hasten.
ing towards us ; on which I uttered a shout of joy, and
laid on valiantly; but my very next look assured me,
that the man was old John Barnet, whom I had likewise
wronged all that was in my power, and between these
two wicked persons I expected any thing but justice.
My arm was again enfeebled, and that of my adversary
prevailed. I was knocked down and mauled most griev-
ously, and while the ruffian was kicking and cuffing me
at his will and pleasuse, up came old John Barnet, breath-
less with running, and at one blow with his open hand,
levelled my opponent with the earth. “ Tak ye that,
maister!" says John, “to learn ye better breeding.
Hout awa, man ! an ye will fight, fight fair. Gude sauf
us, ir ye a gentleman's brood, that ye will kick an' cuff a
lad when he's down ?".
When I heard this kind and unexpected interference, I
began once more to value myself on my courage, and
springing up, I made at my adversary ; but John, without
saying a word, bit his lip, and seizing me by the neck,
threw me down. M‘Gill begged of him to stand and see


96
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
fair play, and suffer us to finish the battle ; for, added he,
“he is a liar, and a scoundrel, and deserves ten times more
than I can give him.”
"I ken he's a' that ye say, an’ mair, my man," quoth
John: “but am I sure that ye're no as bad, an' waur ?
It says nae muckle for ony o' ye to be tearing like tikes
at ane anither here."
John cocked his cudgel and stood between us, threat-
ening to knock the one dead, who first offered to lift his
hand against the other ; but, perceiving no disposition in
any of us to separate, he drove me home before him like
.a bullock, keeping close guard behind me, lest M.Gill had
followed. I felt greatly indebted to John, yet I com-
plained of his interference to my mother, and the old
officious sinner got no thanks for his pains.
As I am writing only from recollection, so I remember
of nothing farther in these early days, in the least worthy
of being recorded. That I was a great, a transcendant
sinner, I confess. But still I had hopes of forgiveness,
because I never sinned from principle, but accident; and
then I always tried to repent of these sins by the slump,
for individually it was impossible; and though not always
successful in my endeavours, I could not help that ; the
grace of repentance being withheld from me, I regarded
myself as in no degree accountable for the failure. More.
over, there were many of the most deadly sins into which
I never fell, for I dreaded those mentioned in the Revela-
tions as excluding sins, so that I guarded against them
continually. In particular, I brought myself to despise,
if not to abhor, the beauty of women, looking on it as the
greatest snare to which mankind are subjected, and though
young men and maidens, and even old women, (my mo-
ther among the rest,) taxed me with being an unnatural
wretch, I gloried in my acquisition ; and to this day, am
thankful for having escaped the most dangerous of all
snares.
I kept myself also free of the sins of idolatry, and mis-
belief, both of a deadly nature : and, upon the whole, I
think I had not then broken, that is, absolutely broken,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
97
above four out of the ten commandments; but for all
that, I had more sense than to regard either my good
works, or my evil deeds, as in the smallest degree influ.
encing the eternal decrees of God concerning me, either
with regard to my acceptance or reprobation. I depend-
ed entirely on the bounty of free grace, holding all the
righteousness of man as filthy rags, and believing in the
momentous and magnificent truth, that the more heavily
laden with transgressions, the more welcome was the
believer at the throne of grace. And I have reason to
believe that it was this dependence and this belief that at
last ensured my acceptance there.
I come now to the most important period of my exis-
tence,--the period that has modelled my character, and
influenced every action of my life, — without which, this
detail of my actions would have been as a tale that hath
been told — a monotonous farrago-an uninteresting
harangue, -in short, a thing of nothing. Whereas, lo! it
must now be a relation of great and terrible actions, done
in the might, and by the commission of heaven. Amen.
Like the sinful king of Israel, I had been walking soft.
ly before the Lord for a season. I had been humbled
for my transgressions, and, as far as I recollect, sorry on
account of their numbers and heinousness. My rever-
end father had been, moreover, examining me every day
regarding the state of my soul, and my answers sometimes
appeared to give him satisfaction, and sometimes not.
As for my mother, she would harp on the subject of my
faith for ever; yet, though I knew her to be a Christian,
I confess that I always despised her motley instructions,
nor had I any great regard for her person. If this was
a crime in me, I never could help it. I confess it freely,
and believe it was a judgment from heaven inflicted on
her for some sin of former days, and that I had no power
to have acted otherwise toward her than I did.
In this frame of mind was I, when my reverend father
one morning arose from his seat, and, meeting me as I
entered the room, he embraced me, and welcomed me
into the community of the just upon earth. I was struck


98
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
speechless, and could make no answer save by looks of
surprise. My mother also came to me, kissed, and wept
over me ; and after showering unnumbered blessings on
my head, she also welcomed me into the society of the
just made perfect. Then each of them took me by a hand,
and my reverend father explained to me how he had
wrestled with God, as the patriarch of old had done, not
for a night, but for days and years, and that in bitterness
and anguish of spirit, on my account; but that he had at
last prevailed, and had now gained the long and earnest-
Jy desired assurance of my acceptance with the Almighty,
in and through the merits and sufferings of his Son.
I wept for joy to be assured of my freedom from all
sin, and of the impossibility of my ever again falling away
from my new state. I bounded away into the fields and
the woods, to pour out my spirit in prayer before the Al-
mighty for his kindness to me: my whole frame seemed
to be renewed ; every nerve was buoyant with new life;
I felt as if I could have flown in the air, or leaped over
the tops of the trees. An exaltation of spirit lifted me,
as it were, far above the earth, and the sinful creatures
crawling on its surface ; and I deemed myself as an eagle
among the children of men, soaring on high, and looking
down with pity and contempt on the grovelling creatures
below.
As I thus wended my way, I beheld a young man of
a mysterious appearance coming towards me. I tried to
shun him, being bent on my own contemplations; but
he cast himself in my way, so that I could not well
avoid him; and more than that, I felt a sort of invisible
power that drew me towards him, something like the
force of enchantment, which I could not resist. As we
approached each other, our eyes met, and I can never
describe the strange sensations that thrilled through my
whole frame, at that impressive moment; a moment to
me fraught with the most tremendous consequences; the
beginning of a series of adventures which has puzzled my-
self, and will puzzle the world when I am no more in it.
That time will now soon arrive, sooner than any one can


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
99
devise who knows not the tumult of my thoughts, and the
labour of my spirit; and when it hath come and passed over,
-when my flesh and my bones are decayed, and my soul
has passed to its everlasting home, then shall the sons of
men ponder on the events of my life ; wonder and trem-
ble, and tremble and wonder how such things should be.
That stranger youth and I approached each other in
silence, and slowly, with our eyes fixed on each other's
eyes. We approached till not more than a yard inter-
vened between us, and then stood still and gazed, mea-
suring each other from head to foot. What was my
astonishment, on perceiving that he was the same being
as myself! The clothes were the same to the smallest
item. The form was the same ; the apparent age; the
colour of the hair ; the eyes ; and, as far as recollection
could serve me from viewing my own features in a glass,
the features too were the very same. I conceived at
first, that I saw a vision, and that my guardian angel had
appeared to me at this important era of my life ; but
this singular being read my thoughts in my looks, antici-
pating the very words that I was going to utter.
“You think I am your brother," said he ; " or that I
am your second self. I am indeed your brother, not ac-
cording to the flesh, but in my belief of the same truths,
and my assurance in the same mode of redemption,
than which, I hold nothing so great or so glorious on
earth.”
" Then you are an associate well adapted to my pre-
sent state," said I. “ For this time is a time of great
rejoicing in spirit to me. I am on my way to return
thanks for my redemption from the bonds of sin and
misery. If you will join with me heart and hand in
youthful thanksgiving, then shall we two go and wor-
ship together, but if not, go your way, and I shall go
mine."
“Ah, you little know with how much pleasure I will
accompany you, and join with you in your elevated de-
votions,” said he fervently. “Your state is a state to
be envied indeed; but I have been advised of it, and am


100
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
come to be a humble disciple of yours ; to be initiated
into the true way of salvation by conversing with you,
and perhaps by being assisted by your prayers.'
My spiritual pride being greatly elevated by this ad.
dress, I began to assume the preceptor, and questioned
this extraordinary youth with regard to his religions
principles, telling him plainly, if he was one who expect
ed acceptance with God at all, on account of good works,
that I would hold no communion with him. We then
went on to commune about all our points of belief ; and
in every thing that I suggested, he acquiesced, and, as 1
thought that day, often carried them to extremnes, so that
I had a secret dread he was advancing blasphemies. Yet
he had such a way with him, and paid such a deference
to all my opinions, that I was quite captivated, and, at
the same time, I stood in a sort of awe of him, which 1
could not account for, and several times was seized with
an involuntary inclination to escape from his presence,
by making a sudden retreat. But he seemned constantly
to anticipate my thoughts, and was sure to divert my pur.
pose by some turn in the conversation that particularly
interested me.
We moved about from one place to another, until the
day was wholly spent. My mind had all the while been
kept in a state of agitation resembling the motion of a
whirlpool, and when we came to separate, I then dia.
covered that the purpose for which I had sought the fields
had been neglected, and that I had been diverted from
the worship of God, by attending to the quibbles and
dogmag of this singular and unaccountable being, who
seemed to have more knowledge and information than all ?
the persons I had ever known put together.
We parted with expressions of mutual regret, and
when I left him I felt a deliverance, but at the same time
a certain consciousness that I was not thus to get free of
him, but that he was like to be an acquaintance that was
to stick to me for good or for evil. I was astonished at
his acuteness and knowledge about every thing ; but ag
for his likeness to me, that was quite unaccountable.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
101
He was the same person in every respect, but yet he
was not always so ; for I observed several times, when
we were speaking of certain divines and their tenets,
that his face assumed something of the appearance of
theirs ; and it struck me, that by setting his features to
the mould of other people's, he entered at once into
their conceptions and feelings. I had been greatly fat.
tered, and greatly interested by his conversation ; whether
I had been the better for it or the worse, I could not
tell. I had been diverted from returning thanks to my
gracious Maker for his great kindness to me, and came
home as I went away, but not with the same buoyancy
and lightness of heart. Well may I remember that day in
which I was first received into the number, and made an
heir to all the privileges of the children of God, and on
which I first met this mysterious associate, who from
that day forth contrived to wind himself into all my af-
fairs, both spiritual and temporal, to this day on which I
am writing the account of it. It was on the 25th day
of March, 1704, when I had just entered the eighteenth
year of my age. Whether it behoves me to bless God
for the events of that day, or to deplore them, has been
hid from my discernment, though I have inquired into it
with fear and trembling; and I have now lost all hopes
of ever discovering the true import of these events until
that day when my accounts are to make up and reckon
for in another world.
When I came home, I went straight into the parlour,
where my mother was sitting by herself. She started to
her feet, and uttered a smothered scream. “ What ails
you, Robert ?" cried she. “My dear son, what is the
matter with you?”
“Do you see any thing the matter with me?" said I.
"It appears that the ailment is with yourself, and either
in your crazed head or your dim eyes, for there is no-
thing the matter with me.”
“Ah, Robert, you are ill !” cried she ; "you are very
ill, my dear boy; you are quite changed; your very
voice and manner are changed. Ah, Jane, haste you up
V.


102
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
hoon
.
to the study, and tell Mr Wringhim to come here on the
instant and speak to Robert.”
“I beseech you, woman, to restrain yourself,” said I.
“ If you suffer your frenzy to run away with your judgment
in this manner, I will leave the house. What do you mean?
I tell you, there is nothing ails me : I never was better."
She screamed, and ran between me and the door, to
bar my retreat : in the mean time my reverend father en-
tered, and I have not forgot how he gazed, through his
glasses, first at my mother, and then at me. I imagined
that his eyes burnt like candles, and was afraid of him,
which I suppose made my looks more unstable than they
would otherwise have been.
" What is all this for?” said he. “Mistress! Robert !
What is the matter here?”
“Oh, sir, our boy !" cried my mother; “our dear boy,
Mr Wringhim! Look at him, and speak to him : he is
either dying or translated, sir !"
He looked at me with a countenance of great alarm ;
mumbling some sentences to himself, and then taking me
by the arm, as if to feel my pulse, he said, with a falter-
ing voice, “Something has indeed befallen you, either in
body or mind, boy, for you are so transformed, since the
morning, that I could not have known you for the same
person. Have you met with any accident?”
“ No."
“ Have you seen any thing out of the ordinary course
of nature ?"
“ No.”
“ Then, Satan, I fear, has been busy with you, tempt.
ing you in no ordinary degree at this momentous crisis
of your life ?"
My mind turned on my associate for the day, and the
idea that he might be an agent of the devil, had such an
effect on me, that I could make no answer.
“I see how it is,” said he ; “you are troubled in
spirit, and I have no doubt that the enemy of our salva-
tion has been busy with you. Tell me this, has he over-
come you, or has he not?”


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
103
',“ He has not, my dear father,” said I. “In the
strength of the Lord, I hope I have withstood him. But
indeed, if he has been busy with me, I knew it pot. I
have been conversant this day with one stranger only,
whom I took rather for an angel of light."
“ It is one of the devil's most profound wiles to ap-
pear like one,” said my mother.
“ Woman, hold thy peace !” said my reverend father :
“thou pretendest to teach what thou knowest not. Tell
me this, boy. Did this stranger, with whom you met,
adhere to the religious principles in which I have edu-
cated you?”
“Yes, to every one of them, in their fullest latitude,"
said I.
“ Then he was no agent of the wicked one with whom
you held converse," said he ; " for that is the doctrine
that was made to overturn the principalities and powers,
the might and dominion of the kingdom of darkness.-
Let us pray."
After spending about a quarter of an hour in solemn
and sublime thanksgiving, this saintly man gave out that
the day following should be kept by the family as a day
of solemn thanksgiving, and spent in prayer and praise,
on account of the calling and election of one of its mem-
bers; or rather for the election of that individual being
revealed on earth, as well as confirmed in heaven.
The next day was with me a day of holy exultation.
It was begun by my reverend father laying his hands
upon my head and blessing me, and then dedicating me
to the Lord in the most awful and impressive manner.
It was in no common way that he exercised this pro-
found rite, for it was done with all the zeal and enthu.
siasm of a devotee to the true cause, and a champion on
the side he had espoused. He used these remarkable
words; “May he be a two-edged weapon in Thy hand,
and a spear coming out of Thy mouth, to destroy, and
overcome, and pass over ; and may the enemies of Thy
.church fall down before him, and be as dung to fat the
land!”


104
PRIVATE MEMOINS AND
l'rom that moment, I conceived it decreed, not that I
nhould be a minister of the gospel, but a champion of it,
to out of the wicked from the face of the earth; and I
rejoiced in the cominission, finding it more congenial to
iny mature to be cutting sinners off with the sword, than
to be liaranguing them from the pulpit, striving to pro.
duce an efl'ect, which God, by his act of absolute pre,
destination, had for ever rendered impracticable. The
more I pondered on these things, the inore I saw of the
tolly and inconsistency of ministers, in spending their
lives, striving and remonstrating with sinners, in order
to induce them to do that which they had it not in their
power to do. How much more wise would it be, thought
I, to begin and cut sinners off with the sword I for till
that is elected, the saints can never inherit the earth in
peace. Should I be honoured as an instruinent to begin
this great work of purification, I should rejoice in it.
But then, where had I the means, or under what direction
was I to begin? There was one thing clear, I was now
the Lord's, and it beloved ine to bestir myself in his ser.
vice. O that I had an host at my command, then would
I be as a devouring fire among the workers of iniquity!
Vull of these great ideas, I hurried through the city,
and sought again the private path through the field and
wood of l'imnieston, in which my reverend preceptor had
the privilege of walking for study, and to which he had
A key that was always at my command. Near one of
the stiles, I perceived a young man sitting in a devout
posture, reading on & Bible. He rose, lifted his hal,
and made an obeisance to me, which I returned and
walked on, I had not well crossed the stile, till it struck
me I knew the face of the youth, and that he was some
intimate acquaintance, to whom I ought to have spoken.
I walked on, and returned, and walked on again, trying
to recollect who he was s but for my life I could not,
There was, however, a fascination in his look and man.
her, that drew me back toward him in spite of mysell,
and I resolved to go to him, if it were merely to speak
and see who he was,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
105
I came up to him and addressed him, but he was so
intent on his book, that, though I spoke, he lifted not
his eyes. I looked on the book also, and still it seemed
a Bible, having columns, chapters, and verses; but it
was in a language of which I was wholly ignorant, and
all intersected with red lines, and verses. A sensation
resembling a stroke of electricity came over me, on first
casting my eyes on that mysterious book, and I stood
motionless. He looked up, smiled, closed his book, and
put it in his bosom. “ You seem strangely affected, dear
sir, by looking on my book," said he mildly.
" What book is that?” said I: is it a Bible ?”
" It is my Bible, sir,” said he; “but I will cease
reading it, for I am glad to see you. Pray, is not this a
day of holy festivity with you?”
1 stared in his face, but made no answer, for my senses
were bewildered.
“Do you not know me?" said he. “ You appear to
be somehow at a loss. Had not you and I some sweet
communion and fellowship yesterday?”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said I. “ But surely if
you are the young gentleman with whom I spent the
hours yesterday, you have the cameleon art of chang-
ing your appearance; I never could have recognized
you."
“ My countenance changes with my studies and sen-
sations," said he. “ It is a natural peculiarity in me,
over which I have not full control. If I contemplate a
man's features seriously, mine own gradually assume the
very same appearance and character. And what is
more, by contemplating a face minutely, I not only
attain the same likeness, but, with the likeness, attain
the very same ideas as well as the same mode of arrang-
ing them, so that, you see, by looking at a person atten-
tively, I by degrees assume his likeness, and by assum-
ing his likeness I attain to the possession of his most
secret thoughts. This, I say, is a peculiarity in my na-
ture, a gift of the God that made me ; but whether or not
given me for a blessing, he knows himself, and so do I.
1 2


106
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
At all events, I have this privilege, I can never be mis.
taken of a character in whom I am interested."
“ It is a rare qualification,” replied I, “and I would
give worlds to possess it. Then, it appears, that it is
needless to dissemble with you, since you can at any
time extract our most secret thoughts from our bosoms.
You already know my natural character ?”
“ Yes," said he," and it is that which attaches me to
you. By assuming your likeness yesterday, I became
acquainted with your character, and was no less astonish-
ed at the profundity and range of your thoughts, than
at the heroic magnanimity with which these were com.
bined. And now, in addition to these, you are dedicat.
ed to the great work of the Lord ; for which reasons I
have resolved to attach myself as closely to you as
possible, and to render you all the service of which my
poor abilities are capable.”
I confess that I was greatly flattered by these compli-
ments paid to my abilities by a youth of such superior
qualifications; by one who, with a modesty and affability
rare at his age, combined a height of genius and know-
ledge almost above human comprehension. Neverthe-
less, I began to assume a certain superiority of demean-
our toward him, as judging it incumbent on me to do so,
in order to keep up his idea of my exalted character ;
but I soon felt, that, instead of being a humble disciple
of mine, this new acquaintance was to be my guide and
director, and all under the humble guise of one stooping
at my feet to learn the right. He said that he saw I
was ordained to perform some great action for the cause
of Jesus and his church, and he earnestly coveted being
a partaker with me; but he besought of me never to
think it possible for me to fall from the truth, or the
favour of him who had chosen me, else that misbelief
would baulk every good work to which I set my face.
There was something so flattering in all this, that I
could not resist it. Still, when he took leave of me,
I felt it as a great relief; and yet, before the morrow, I
wearied and was impatient to see him again. We carried


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
107
on our fellowship from day to day, and all the while I
knew not who he was, and still my mother and reverend
father kept insisting that I was an altered youth, changed
in my appearance, my manners, and my whole conduct;
yet something always prevented me from telling them
more about my new acquaintance than I had done on
the first day we met. I rejoiced in him, was proud of
him, and soon could not live without him; yet, though
resolved every day to disclose the whole history of my
connexion with him, I had it not in my power : some-
thing always prevented me, till at length I thought no
more of it, but resolved to enjoy his fascinating company
in private, and by all means to keep my own with him.
The resolution was vain : I set a bold face to it, but my
powers were inadequate to the task ; my adherent, with
all the suavity imaginable, was sure to carry his point.
I sometimes fumed, and sometimes shed tears at being
obliged to yield to proposals against which I had at first
felt every reasoning power of my soul rise in opposition ;
but, for all that, he never failed in carrying conviction
along with him in effect, for he either forced me to ac-
quiesce in his measures, and assent to the truth of his
positions, or he put me so completely down, that I had
not a word left to advance against them.
After weeks, and I may say months of intimacy, I
observed, somewhat to my amazement, that we had never
once prayed together ; and more than that, that he had
constantly led my attentions away from that duty, caus-
ing me to neglect it wholly. I thought this a bad mark
of a man seemingly so much set on inculcating certain
important points of religion, and resolved next day to put
him to the test, and request of him to perform that sacred
duty in name of us both. He objected boldly; saying
there were very few people indeed, with whom he could
join in prayer, and he made a point of never doing it, as
he was sure they were to ask many things of which he
disapproved, and that if he were to officiate himself, he
was as certain to allude to many things that came not
within the range of their faith. He disapproved of prayer


108
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
altogether, in the manner it was generally gone about, he
said. Man made it merely a selfish concern, and was con.
stantly employed asking, asking, for every thing. Where-
as it became all God's creatures to be content with their
lot, and only to kneel before him in order to thank him
for such benefits as he saw meet to bestow. In short, he
argued with such energy, that before we parted I ac.
quiesced, as usual, in his position, and never mentioned
prayer to him any more.
Having been so frequently seen in his company,
several people happened to mention the circumstance to
my mother and reverend father ; but at the same time
had all described him differently. At length they began
to examine me with regard to the company I kept, as I
absented myself from home day after day. I told them
I kept company only with one young gentleman, whose
whole manner of thinking on religious subjects, I found
so congenial with my own, that I could not live out of
his society. My mother began to lay down some of her
old hackneyed rules of faith, but I turned from hearing
her with disgust; for, after the energy of my new friend's
reasoning, hers appeared so tame I could not endure it.
And I confess with shame, that my reverend preceptor's
religious dissertations began, about this time, to lose their
relish very much, and by degrees became exceedingly
tiresome to my ear. They were so inferior, in strength
and sublimity, to the most common observations of my
young friend, that in drawing a comparison the former
appeared as nothing. He, however, examined me about
many things relating to my companion, in all of which I
satisfied him, save in one : I could neither tell him who
my friend was, what was his name, nor of whom he was
descended ; and I wondered at myself how I had never
once adverted to such a thing, for all the time we had
been intimate.
I inquired the next day what his name was; as I said
I was often at a loss for it, when talking with him. He
replied, that there was no occasion for any one friend
ever naining another, when their society was held in


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
109
private, as ours was ; for his part he had never once nam-
ed me since we first met, and never intended to do so,
unless by my own request." But if you cannot converse
without naming me, you may call me Gil for the present,"
added he; “and if I think proper to take another name
at any future period, it shall be with your approbation.
“ Gil !” said I; have you no name but Gil? Or
which of your names is it ?- your Christian or surname?"
“0, you must have a surname too, must you !" re.
plied he; “ Very well, you may call me Gil-Martin. It
is not my Christian name; but it is a name which may
serve your turn."
“ This is very strange !” said I. “ Are you ashamed
of your parents, that you refuse to give your real name ?"
“I have no parents save one, whom I do not acknow-
ledge,” said he proudly; "therefore, pray drop that sub-
ject, for it is a disagreeable one. I am a being of a
very peculiar temper, for though I have servants and
subjects more than I can number, yet, to gratify a cer-
tain whim, I have left them, and retired to this city, and
for all the society it contains, you see I have attached
myself only to you. This is a secret, and I tell it you
only in friendship, therefore pray let it remain one, and
say not another word about the matter."
I assented, and said no more concerning it ; for it in-
stantly struck me that this was no other than the Czar
Peter of Russia, having heard that he had been travel-
ling through Europe in disguise, and I cannot say that I
had not thenceforward great and mighty hopes of high
preferment, as a defender and avenger of the oppressed
Christian Church, under the influence of this great po.
tentate. He had hinted as much already, as that it was
more honourable, and of more avail to put down the
wicked with the sword, than try to reform them, and I
thought myself quite justified in supposing that he intend.
ed me for some great employment, that he had thus se-
lected me for his companion out of all the rest in Scot-
land, and even pretended to learn the great truths of re-
ligion from my mouth. From that time I felt disposed


110
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
to yield to such a great prince's suggestions without hesi.
tation.
Nothing ever astonished me so much, as the uncom-
mon powers with which he seemed invested. In our
walk one day, we met with a Mr Blanchard, who was reck-
oned a worthy, pious divine, but quite of the moral cast,
who joined us; and we three walked on, and rested to-
gether in the fields. My companion did not seem to
like him, but, nevertheless, regarded him frequently with
deep attention, and there were several times, while he
seemed contemplating him, and trying to find out his
thoughts, that his face became so like Mr Blanchard's,
that it was impossible to have distinguished the one from
the other. The antipathy between the two was mutual,
and discovered itself quite palpably in a short time.
When my companion the prince was gone, Mr Blanchard
asked me anent him, and I told him that he was a stran-
ger in the city, but a very uncommon and great perso-
nage. Mr Blanchard's answer to me was as follows : “I
never saw any body I disliked so much in my life, Mr
Robert ; and if it be true that he is a stranger here, which
I doubt, believe me he is come for no good.”
“ Do you not perceive what mighty powers of mind he
is possessed of ?" said I, “and also how clear and unhe-
sitating he is on some of the most interesting points of
divinity ?”
“ It is for his great mental faculties that I dread him,"
said he. “It is incalculable what evil such a person as
he may do, if so disposed. There is a sublimity in his
ideas, with which there is to me a mixture of terror; and
when he talks of religion, he does it as one that rather
dreads its truths than reverences them. He, indeed,
pretends great strictness of orthodoxy regarding some of
the points of doctrine embraced by the reformed church;
but you do not seem to perceive, that both you and he
are carrying these points to a dangerous extremity. Re.
ligion is a sublime and glorious thing, the bond of society
on earth, and the connector of humanity with the Divine
nature; but there is nothing so dangerous to man as the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
111
wresting of any of its principles, or forcing them beyond
their due bounds: this is of all others the readiest way
to destruction. Neither is there any thing so easily done.
There is not an error into which a man can fall, of which
he may not press Scripture into his service as proof of
its probity, and though your boasted theologian shunned
the full discussion of the subject before me, while you
pressed it, I can easily see that both you and he are car-
rying your ideas of absolute predestination, and its con-
comitant appendages, to an extent that overthrows all re-
ligion and revelation together. Believe me, Mr Robert,
the less you associate with that illustrious stranger the
better."
I was rather stunned at this; but I pretended to smile
with disdain, and said, it did not become youth to con-
trol age ; and, as I knew our principles differed funda-
mentally, it behoved us to drop the subject. He, how.
ever, would not drop it, but took both my principles and
me fearfully to task, for Blanchard was ari eloquent and
powerful-minded old man; and, before we parted, I be-
Jieve I promised to drop my new acquaintance, and was
all but resolved to do it.
As well might I have laid my account with shunning
the light of day. He was constant to me as my shadow,
and by degrees he acquired such an ascendency over me,
that I never was happy out of his company, nor greatly
so in it. When I repeated to him all that Mr Blanchard
had said, his countenance kindled with indignation and
rage ; and then by degrees his eyes sunk inward, his brow
lowered, so that I was awed, and withdrew my eyes from
looking at him. A while afterward, as I was addressing
him, I chanced to look him again in the face, and the
sight of him made me start violently. He had made him-
self so like Mr Blanchard, that I actually believed I had
been addressing that gentleman, and that I had done so
in some absence of mind that I could not account for.
Instead of being amused at the quandary I was in, he
seemed offended : indeed, he never was truly amused
with any thing. And he then asked me sullenly, if I


112
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
conceived sucb personages as he to have no other en-
dowments than cominon mortals !
I said I never conceived that princes or potentates had
any greater share of endowments than other men, and
frequently not so much. He shook his head, and bade me
think over the subject again ; and there was an end of it.
I certainly felt every day the more disposed to acknow.
ledge such a superiority in him, and from all that I could
gather, I had now no doubt that he was Peter of Russia.
Every thing combined to warrant the supposition, and,
of course, I resolved to act in conformity with the dis-
covery I had made.
For several days the subject of Mr Blanchard's doubts
and doctrines formed the theme of our discourse. My
friend deprecated them most devoutly; and then again
he would deplore them, and lament the great evil that
such a man might do among the human race. I joined
with him in allowing the evil in its fullest latitude ; and,
at length, after he thought he had fully prepared my na-
ture for such a trial of its powers and abilities, he pro-
posed calmly that we two should make away with Mr
Blanchard. I was so shocked, that my bosom became
as it were a void, and the beatings of my heart sounded
loud and hollow in it: my breath cut, and my tongue
and palate became dry and speechless. He mocked at
my cowardice, and began a-reasoning on the matter with
such powerful eloquence, that before we parted, I felt
fully convinced that it was my bounden duty to slay Mr
Blanchard ; but my will was far, very far from consenting
to the deed.
I spent the following night without sleep, or nearly
so; and the next morning, by the time the sun arose, I
was again abroad, and in the company of my illustrious
friend. The same subject was resumed, and again he
reasoned to the following purport:- That supposing me
placed at the head of an army of Christian soldiers,
all bent on putting down the enemies of the church,
would I have any hesitation in destroying and rooting
out these enemies ?--None surely.-Well then, when


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
113
I saw and was convinced, that here was an individ-
ual who was doing more detriment to the church of
Christ on earth, than tens of thousands of such
warriors were capable of doing, was it not my duty to
cut him off? “ He, who would be a champion in the cause
of Christ and his Church, my brave young friend," added
he, “must begin early, and no man can calculate to what
an illustrious eminence small beginnings may lead. If
the man Blanchard is worthy, he is only changing his
situation for a better one; and if unworthy, it is better
that one fall, than that a thousand souls perish. Let us
be up and doing in our vocations. For me, my resolution
is taken ; I have but one great aim in this world, and I
never for a moment lose sight of it."
I was obliged to admit the force of his reasoning ; for
though I cannot from memory repeat his words, his elo-
quence was of that overpowering nature, that the sub-
tility of other men sunk before it ; and there is also
little doubt that the assurance I had that these words
were spoken by a great potentate, who could raise me to
the highest eminence, (provided that I entered into his
extensive and decisive measures,) assisted mightily in
dispelling my youthful scruples and qualms of conscience;
and I thought moreover, that having such a powerful
back friend to support me, I hardly needed to be afraid
of the consequences. I consented ! But begged a
little time to think of it. He said the less one thought of
a duty the better ; and we parted.
But the most singular instance of this wonderful man's
power over my mind was, that he had as complete in-
fluence over me by night as by day. All my dreams
corresponded exactly with his suggestions ; and when
he was absent from me, still his arguments sunk deeper
in my heart than even when he was present. I dreamed
that night of a great triumph obtained, and though the
whole scene was but dimly and confusedly defined in my
vision, yet the overthrow and death of Mr Blanchard was
the first step by which I attained the eminent station I
occupied. Thus, by dreaming of the event by night,
V.


114
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and discoursing of it by day, it soon became so familiar
to my mind, that I almost conceived it as done. It was
resolved on: which was the first and greatest victory
gained ; for there was no difficulty in finding opportuni-
ties enow of cutting off a man, who, every good day,
was to be found walking by himself in private grounds.
I went and heard him preach for two days, and in fact I
held his tenets scarcely short of blasphemy; they were
such as I had never heard before, and his congregation,
which was numerous, were turning up their ears and
drinking in his doctrines with the utmost delight ; for 0,
they suited their carnal natures and self-sufficiency to a
hair!
When I began to tell the prince about his false doc-
trines, to my astonishment I found that he had been in
the church himself, and had every argument that the old
divine had used verbatim; and he remarked on them
with great concern, that these were not the tenets that
corresponded with his views in society, and that he had
agents in every city, and every land, exerting their
powers to put them down. I asked, with great simpli.
city, “ Are all your subjects Christians, prince ?"
“ All my European subjects are, or deem themselves
so,” returned he ; "and they are the most faithful and
true subjects I have.”
Who could doubt, after this, that he was the Czar of
Russia ? I have nevertheless had reasons to doubt of
his identity since that period, and which of my conjec-
tures is right, I believe heaven only knows, for I do not.
I shall go on to write such things as I remember, and if
any one shall ever take the trouble to read over these con-
fessions, such a one will judge for himself. It will be
observed, that since ever I fell in with this extraordinary
person, I have written about him only, and I must con-
tinue to do so to the end of this memoir, as I have per-
formed no great or interesting action in which he had
not a principal share.
He' came to me one day and said, “ We must not lin-
ger thus in executing what we have resolved on. We


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
115
have much before our hands to perform for the benefit of
mankind, both civil as well as religious. Let us do what
we have to do here, and then we must wend our way to
other cities, and perhaps to other countries. Mr Blan.
chard is to hold forth in the high church of Paisley on
Sunday next, on some particularly great occasion : this
must be defeated; he must not go there. As he will
be busy arranging his discourses, we may expect him to
be walking by himself in Finnieston Dell the greater part
of Friday and Saturday. Let us go and cut him off.
What is the life of a man more than the life of a lamb,
or any guiltless animal ? It is not half so much, especially
when we consider the immensity of the mischief this
old fellow is working among our fellow-creatures. Can
there be any doubt that it is the duty of one consecrat-
ed to God, to cut off such a mildew ?"
“I fear me, great sovereign,” said I, “ that your ideas
of retribution are too sanguine, and too arbitrary for the
laws of this country. I dispute not that your motives
are great and highe; but have you debated the conse.
quences, and settled the result?”
“I have,” returned he, “and hold myself amenable
for the action, to the laws of God and of equity ; as to
the enactments of men I despise them. Fain would I see
the weapon of providence begin the work of vengeance
that awaits it to do !"
I could not help thinking, that I perceived a little de-
rision of countenance on his face as he said this, never.
theless I sunk dumb before such a man, and aroused my-
self to the task, seeing he would not have it deferred.
I approved of it in theory, but my spirit stood aloof from
the practice. I saw and was convinced that the eleet
would be happier, and purer, were the wicked and unbe-
lievers all cut off from troubling and misleading them,
but if it had not been the instigations of this illustrious
stranger, I should never have presumed to begin so great
a work myself. Yet, though he often aroused my zeal
to the highest pitch, still my heart at times shrunk from
the shedding of life-blood, and it was only at the earnest


116
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and unceasing instigations of my enlightened and volun-
tary patron, that I at length put my hand to the conclu-
sive work. After I said all that I could say, and all had
been overborne, (I remember my actions and words as
well as it had been yesterday,) I turned round hesita-
tingly, and looked up to Heaven for direction ; but there
was a dimness came over my eyes that I could not see.
The appearance was as if there had been a veil drawn
over me, so nigh that I put up my hand to feel it; and
then Gil-Martin (as this great sovereign was pleased to
have himself called,) frowned, and asked me what I was
grasping at? I knew not what to say, but answered, with
fear and shame, “I have no weapons, not one ; nor
know I where any are to be found.”
“ The God whom thou servest will provide these,”
said he, “if thou provest worthy of the trust committed
to thee.”
I looked again up into the cloudy veil that covered us,
and thought I beheld golden weapons of every descrip-
tion let down in it, but all with their points towards me.
I kneeled, and was going to stretch out my hand to take
one, when my patron seized me, as I thought, by the
clothes, and dragged me away with as much ease as I had
been a lamb, saying, with a joyful and elevated voice,
“Come, my friend, let us depart : thou art dreaming-
thou art dreaming. Rouse up all the energies of thy
exalted mind, for thou art an highly-favoured one; and
doubt thou not, that he whom thou servest, will be ever
at thy right and left hand, to direct and assist thee.".
These words, but particularly the vision I had seen, of
the golden weapons descending out of Heaven, inflamed
my zeal to that height that I was as one beside himself ;
which my parents perceived that night, and made some
motions toward confining me to my room. I joined in
the family prayers, and then I afterwards sung a psalm
and prayed by myself; and I had good reasons for be.
Jieving that that small oblation of praise and prayer was
not turned to sin.
I felt greatly strengthened and encouraged that night,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
117
, and the next morning I ran to meet my companion, out
of whose eye I had now no life. He rejoiced at seeing
me so forward in the great work of reformation by blood,
and said many things to raise my hopes of future fame
and glory ; and then, producing two pistols of pure beat-
en gold, he held them out and proffered me the choice
of one, saying, “ See what thy master hath provided
thee !” I took one of them eagerly, for I perceived at
once that they were two of the very weapons that were
let down from Heaven in the cloudy veil, the dim tapes-
try of the firmament ; and I said, to myself, “ Surely
this is the will of the Lord.”
The little splendid and enchanting piece was so per-
fect, so complete, and so ready for executing the will of
the donor, that I now longed to use it in his service. I
loaded it with my own hand, as Gil Martin did the other,
and we took our stations behind a bush of hawthorn and
bramble on the verge of the wood, and almost close to
the walk. My patron was so acute in all his calculations
that he never mistook an event. We had not taken our
stand above a minute and a half, till old Mr Blanchard
appeared, coming slowly on the path. When we saw
this, we cowered down, and leaned each of us a knee
upon the ground, pointing the pistols through the bush,
with an aim so steady, that it was impossible to miss our
victim.
He came deliberately on, pausing' at times so long,
that we dreaded he was going to turn. Gil-Martin
dreaded it, and I said I did, but wished in my heart that
he might. He, however, came onward, and I will never
forget the manner in which he came! No,—I don't be.
lieve I ever can forget it, either in the narrow bounds of
time or the ages of eternity! He was a boardly ill-
shaped man, of a rude exterior, and a little bent with
age ; his hands were clasped behind his back, and below
his coat, and he walked with a slow swinging air that was
very peculiar. When he paused and looked abroad on
nature, the act was highly impressive : he seemed con-
scious of being all alone, and conversant only with God
K 2


118
FRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and the elements of his creation. Never was there such
a picture of human inadvertency! a man approaching
step by step to the one that was to hurl him out of one
existence into another, with as much ease and indiffer-
ence as the ox goeth to the stall. Hideous vision, wilt
thou not be gone from my mental sight! If not, let me
bear with thee as I can !
When he came straight opposite to the muzzles of our
pieces, Gil-Martin called out “ Eh !" with a short quick
sound. The old man, without starting, turned his face
and breast toward us, and looked into the wood, but look-
ed over our heads. “Now !” whispered my companion,
and fired. But my hand refused the office, for I was not
at that moment sure about becoming an assassin in the
cause of Christ and his Church. I thought I heard a
sweet voice behind me, whispering me to beware, and I
was going to look round, when my companion exclaimed,
“ Coward, we are ruined !”
I had no time for an alternative: Gil-Martin's ball
had not taken effect, which was altogether wonderful, as
the old man's breast was within a few yards of him.
“ Hilloa !" cried Blanchard ; "what is that for, you dog!"
and with that he came forward to look over the bush. I
hesitated, as I said, and attempted to look behind me; but
there was no time: the next step discovered two assassins
lying in covert, waiting for blood. “Coward, we are
ruined !” cried my indignant friend ; and that moment my
piece was discharged. The effect was as might have been
expected: the old man first stumbled to one side, and
then fell on his back. We kept our places, and I per-
ceived my companion's eyes gleaming with an unnatural
joy. The wounded man raised himself from the bank
to a sitting posture, and I beheld his eyes swimming ; he,
however, appeared sensible, for we heard him saying in
a low and rattling voice, “ Alas, alas! whom have I of-
fended, that they should have been driven to an act like
this! Come forth and show yourselves, that I may
either forgive you before I die, or curse you in the name
of the Lord.” He then fell a groping with both hands


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
119
on the ground, as if feeling for something he had lost,
manifestly in the agonies of death ; and, with a solemn
and interrupted prayer for forgiveness, he breathed his last.
I had become rigid as a statue, whereas my associate
appeared to be elevated above measure. “Arise, thou
faint-hearted one, and let us be going," said he. “ Thou
hast done well for once; but wherefore hesitate in such
a cause ? This is but a small beginning of so great a
work as that of purging the Christian world. But the
first victim is a worthy one, and more of such lights must
be extinguished immediately."
We touched not our victim, nor any thing pertaining
to him, for fear of staining our hands with his blood;
and the firing having brought three men within view, who
were hasting towards the spot, my undaunted companion
took both the pistols, and went forward as with intent
to meet them, bidding me shift for myself. I ran off in
a contrary direction, till I came to the foot of the Pear-
man Sike, and then, running up the hollow of that I ap-
peared on the top of the bank as if I had been another
man brought in view by hearing the shots in such a place.
I had a full view of a part of what passed, though not of
all. I saw my companion going straight to meet the men,
apparently with a pistol in every hand, waving in a care-
less manner. They seemed not quite clear of meeting
with him, and so he went straight on, and passed between
them. They looked after him, and came onward; but
when they came to the old man lying stretched in his
blood, then they turned and pursued my companion,
though not so quickly as they might have done ; and I
understood that from the first they saw no more of him.
Great was the confusion that day in Glasgow. The
most popular of all their preachers of morality was (what
they called) murdered in cold blood, and a strict and
extensive search was made for the assassin. Neither of
the accomplices was found, however, that is certain, nor
was either of them so much as suspected; but another
man was apprehended under circumstances that warrant-
ed suspicion.-This was one of the things that I witness-


120
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ed in my life, which I never understood, and it surely
was one of my patron's most dexterous tricks, for I must
still say, what I have thought from the beginning, that
like him there never was a man created. The young man
who was taken up was a preacher; and it was proved that
he had purchased fire-arms in town, and gone out with
them that morning. But the far greatest mystery of the
whole was, that two of the men, out of the three who
met my companion, swore, that that unfortunate preach-
er was the man whom they met with a pistol in each
hand, fresh from the death of the old divine. The poor
fellow made a confused speech himself, which there is
not the least doubt was quite true; but it was laughed
to scorn, and an expression of horror ran through both
the hearers and jury. I heard the whole trial, and so did
Gil Martin; but we left the journeyman preacher to his
fate, and from that time forth I have had no faith in the
justice of criminal trials. If once a man is prejudiced
on one side, he will swear any thing in support of such
prejudice. I tried to expostulate with my mysterious
friend on the horrid injustice of suffering this young man
to die for our act, but the prince exulted in it more than
the other, and said the latter was the more dangerous
man of the two.
The alarm in and about Glasgow was prodigious. The
country being divided into two political parties, the court
and the country party, the former held meetings, issued
proclamations, and offered rewards, ascribing all to the
violence of party spirit, and deprecating the infernal
measures of their opponents. I did not understand their
political differences ; but it was easy to see that the true
Gospel preachers joined all on one side, and the uphold.
ers of pure morality and a blameless life on the other, so
that this division proved a test to us, and it was forth-
with resolved, that we two should pick out some of the
leading men of this unsaintly and heterodox cabal, and
cut them off one by one, as occasion should suit.
Now the ice being broke, I felt considerable zeal in
our great work, but pretended much more ; and we might


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
121
soon have kidnapped them all through the ingenuity of
my patron, had not our next attempt miscarried, by some
awkwardness or mistake of mine. The consequence was,
that he was discovered fairly, and very nigh seized. I also
was seen, and suspected so far, that my reverend father,
my mother, and myself were examined privately. I
denied all knowledge of the matter; and they held it in
such a ridiculous light, and their conviction of the com-
plete groundlessness of the suspicion was so perfect, that
their testimony prevailed, and the affair was hushed.
I was obliged, however, to walk circumspectly, and saw
my companion the prince very seldom, who was prowling
about every day, quite unconcerned about his safety.
He was every day a new man, however, and needed not
to be alarmed at any danger; for such a facility had he
in disguising himself, that if it had not been for a pass-
word which we had between us, for the purposes of re-
cognition, I never could have known him myself.
It so happened that my reverend father was called to
Edinburgh about this time, to assist with his council in
settling the national affairs. At my earnest request I
was permitted to accompany him, at which both my as-
sociate and I rejoiced, as we were now about to move in
a new and extensive field. All this time I never knew
where my illustrious friend resided. He never once in-
vited me to call on him at his lodgings, nor did he ever
come to our house, which made me sometimes to suspect,
that if any of our great efforts in the cause of true re-
ligion were discovered he intended leaving me in the
lurch. Consequently, when we met in Edinburgh (for
we travelled not in company) I proposed to go with him
to look for lodgings, telling him at the same time what a
blessed religious family my reverend instructor and I
were settled in. He said he rejoiced at it, but he made
a rule of never lodging in any particular house, but took
these daily, or hourly, as he found it convenient, and
that he never was at a loss in any circumstance.
“What a mighty trouble you put yourself to, great
sovereign !” said I “and all, it would appear, for the



120
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ed in my life, which I never understood, and it surely
was one of my patron's most dexterous tricks, for I mustatai
still say, what I have thought from the beginning, that are
like him there never was a man created. The young mararas
who was taken up was a preacher; and it was proved than
he had purchased fire-arms in town, and gone out witcher
them that morning. But the far greatest mystery of kne
whole was, that two of the men, out of the three whicule
met my companion, swore, that that unfortunate preland
er was the man whom they met with a pistol in into
hand, fresh from the death of the old divine. The sea
fellow made a confused speech himself, which their
not the least doubt was quite true; but it was lany a
to scorn, and an expression of horror ran through
the hearers and jury. I heard the whole trial, and
Gil Martin; but we left the journer preachers
fate, and from that time forth I
justice of criminal trials. Y
on one side, he will swear
port
prejudice. I tried to
friend on the horri
to die for our ar
the other, ar
man of the
The s
aghrery day
anded at 1
chers hims
faith we h-
pre net
coun
odox



on har
CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
erstand
won til
patron
121
kwardness or
have kidnapped them all through the ingenuity of
natron, had not our next attempt miscarried, by some
ardness or mistake of mine. The consequence was
in the let he was discovered fairly, and very nigh seized. I also
ted. In ceen, and suspected so far, that my reverend father.
din mother, and myself were examined privately 1
and all knowledge of the matter; and they held it in
atesta ridiculous light, and their conviction of the com
groundlessness of the suspicion was so perfect, that
unfact testimony prevailed, and the affair was thushed
the obliged, however, to walk circumspectly, and sex
spanion the prince very seldom, who was the
sell ers day, quite unconcerned about his
gunda
but id
ale tie
and
Rezery day a new mar
med at any dang
ng himself, the
had betr
coni
a facil
been
ea
DW
be
for
him
wat a
and


116
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and unceasing instigations of my enlightened and volun.
tary patron, that I at length put my hand to the conclu.
sive work. After I said all that I could say, and all had
been overborne, (I remember my actions and words as
well as it had been yesterday,) I turned round hesita.
tingly, and looked up to Heaven for direction ; but there
was a dimness came over my eyes that I could not see.
The appearance was as if there had been a veil drawn
over me, so nigh that I put up my hand to feel it; and
then Gil-Martin (as this great sovereign was pleased to
have himself called,) frowned, and asked me what I was
grasping at? I knew not what to say, but answered, with
fear and shame, “I have no weapons, not one ; nor
know I where any are to be found."
“ The God whom thou servest will provide these."
said he, “ if thou provest worthy of the trust committed
to thee."
I looked again up into the cloudy veil that covered us,
and thought I beheld golden weapons of every descrip.
tion let down in it, but all with their points towards me,
I kneeled, and was going to stretch out my hand to take
one, when my patron seized me, as I thought, by the
clothes, and dragged me away with as much ease as I had
been a lamb, saying, with a joyful and elevated voice,
“Come, my friend, let us depart : thou art dreaming-
thou art dreaming. Rouse up all the energies of thy
exalted mind, for thou art an highly-favoured one; and
doubt thou not, that he whom thou servest, will be ever
at thy right and left hand, to direct and assist thee."
These words, but particularly the vision I had seen, of
the golden weapons descending out of Heaven, inflamed
my zeal to that height that I was as one beside himself ;
which my parents perceived that night, and made some
motions toward confining me to my room. I joined in
the family prayers, and then I afterwards sung a psalm
and prayed by myself ; and I had good reasons for be.
lieving that that small oblation of praise and prayer was
not turned to sin.
I felt greatly strengthened and encouraged that night,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
117
and the next morning I ran to meet my companion, out
of whose eye I had now no life. He rejoiced at seeing
me so forward in the great work of reformation by blood,
and said many things to raise my hopes of future fame
and glory ; and then, producing two pistols of pure beat-
en gold, he held them out and proffered me the choice
of one, saying, “ See what thy master hath provided
thee !” I took one of them eagerly, for I perceived at
once that they were two of the very weapons that were
let down from Heaven in the cloudy veil, the dim tapes-
try of the firmament ; and I said, to myself, “ Surely
this is the will of the Lord.”
The little splendid and enchanting piece was so per-
fect, so complete, and so ready for executing the will of
the donor, that I now longed to use it in his service. I
loaded it with my own hand, as Gil-Martin did the other,
and we took our stations behind a bush of hawthorn and
bramble on the verge of the wood, and almost close to
the walk. My patron was so acute in all his calculations
that he never mistook an event. We had not taken our
stand above a minute and a half, till old Mr Blanchard
appeared, coming slowly on the path. When we saw
this, we cowered down, and leaned each of us a knee
upon the ground, pointing the pistols through the bush,
with an aim so steady, that it was impossible to miss our
victim.
He came deliberately on, pausing' at times so long,
that we dreaded he was going to turn. Gil-Martin
dreaded it, and I said I did, but wished in my heart that
he might. He, however, came onward, and I will never
forget the manner in which he came! No,—I don't be.
lieve I ever can forget it, either in the narrow bounds of
time or the ages of eternity! He was a boardly ill-
shaped man, of a rude exterior, and a little bent with
age ; his hands were clasped behind his back, and below
his coat, and he walked with a slow swinging air that was
very peculiar. When he paused and looked abroad on
nature, the act was highly impressive : he seemed con-
scious of being all alone, and conversant only with God
K 2


110
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
to yield to such a great prince's suggestions without hesi-
tation.
Nothing ever astonished me so much, as the uncom.
mon powers with which he seemed invested. In our
walk one day, we met with a Mr Blanchard, who was reck.
oned a worthy, pious divine, but quite of the moral cast,
who joined us; and we three walked on, and rested to-
gether in the fields. My companion did not seem to
like him, but, nevertheless, regarded him frequently with
deep attention, and there were several times, while he
seemed contemplating him, and trying to find out his
thoughts, that his face became so like Mr Blanchard's,
that it was impossible to have distinguished the one from
the other. The antipathy between the two was mutual,
and discovered itself quite palpably in a short time.
When my companion the prince was gone, Mr Blanchard
asked me anent him, and I told him that he was a stran-
ger in the city, but a very uncommon and great perso-
nage. Mr Blanchard's answer to me was as follows: “I
never saw any body I disliked so much in my life, Mr
Robert ; and if it be true that he is a stranger here, which
I doubt, believe me he is come for no good.”
“ Do you not perceive what mighty powers of mind he
is possessed of ?" said I, “and also how clear and unhe.
sitating he is on some of the most interesting points of
divinity ?”
" It is for his great mental faculties that I dread him,"
said he. "It is incalculable what evil such a person as
he may do, if so disposed. There is a sublimity in his
ideas, with which there is to me a mixture of terror; and
when he talks of religion, he does it as one that rather
dreads its truths than reverences them. He, indeed,
pretends great strictness of orthodoxy regarding some of
the points of doctrine embraced by the reformed church;
but you do not seem to perceive, that both you and he
are carrying these points to a dangerous extremity. Re.
ligion in a sublime and glorious thing, the bond of society
on earth, and the connector of humanity with the Divine
nature ; but there is nothing so dangerous to man as the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
111
wresting of any of its principles, or forcing them beyond
their due bounds: this is of all others the readiest way
to destruction. Neither is there any thing so easily done.
There is not an error into which a man can fall, of which
he may not press Scripture into his service as proof of
its probity, and though your boasted theologian shunned
the full discussion of the subject before me, while you
pressed it, I can easily see that both you and he are car-
rying your ideas of absolute predestination, and its con-
comitant appendages, to an extent that overthrows all re-
ligion and revelation together. Believe me, Mr Robert,
the less you associate with that illustrious stranger the
better."
I was rather stunned at this; but I pretended to smile
with disdain, and said, it did not become youth to con-
trol age ; and, as I knew our principles differed funda-
mentally, it behoved us to drop the subject. He, how-
ever, would not drop it, but took both my principles and
me fearfully to task, for Blanchard was an eloquent and
powerful-minded old man; and, before we parted, I be-
lieve I promised to drop my new acquaintance, and was
all but resolved to do it.
As well might I have laid my account with shunning
the light of day. He was constant to me as my shadow,
and by degrees he acquired such an ascendency over me,
that I never was happy out of his company, nor greatly
so in it. When I repeated to him all that Mr Blanchard
had said, his countenance kindled with indignation and
rage ; and then by degrees his eyes sunk inward, his brow
lowered, so that I was awed, and withdrew my eyes from
looking at him. A while afterward, as I was addressing
him, I chanced to look him again in the face, and the
sight of him made me start violently. He had made him-
self so like Mr Blanchard, that I actually believed I had
been addressing that gentleman, and that I had done so
in some absence of mind that I could not account for.
Instead of being amused at the quandary I was in, he
seemed offended : indeed, he never was truly amused
with any thing. And he then asked me sullenly, if I


114
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and discoursing of it by day, it soon became so familiar
to my mind, that I almost conceived it as done. It was
resolved on: which was the first and greatest victory
gained ; for there was no difficulty in finding opportuni-
ties enow of cutting off a man, who, every good day,
was to be found walking by himself in private grounds.
I went and heard him preach for two days, and in fact I
held his tenets scarcely short of blasphemy; they were
such as I had never heard before, and his congregation,
which was numerous, were turning up their ears and
drinking in his doctrines with the utmost delight; for 0,
they suited their carnal natures and self-sufficiency to a
hair!
When I began to tell the prince about his false doce
trines, to my astonishment I found that he had been in
the church himself, and had every argument that the old
divine had used verbatim; and he remarked on them
with great concern, that these were not the tenets that
corresponded with his views in society, and that he had
agents in every city, and every land, exerting their
powers to put them down. I asked, with great simpli-
city, “ Are all your subjects Christians, prince ?"
“ All my European subjects are, or deem themselves
so," returned he ; "and they are the most faithful and
true subjects I have."
Who could doubt, after this, that he was the Czar of
Russia ? I have nevertheless bad reasons to doubt of
his identity since that period, and which of my conjec-
tures is right, I believe heaven only knows, for I do not.
I shall go on to write such things as I remember, and if
any one shall ever take the trouble to read over these con-
fessions, such a one will judge for himself. It will be
observed, that since ever I fell in with this extraordinary
person, I have written about him only, and I must con-
tinue to do so to the end of this memoir, as I have per-
formed no great or interesting action in which he had
not a principal share.
He'came to me one day and said, “ We must not lin-
ger thus in executing what we have resolved on. We


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
115
have much before our hands to perform for the benefit of
mankind, both civil as well as religious. Let us do what
we have to do here, and then we must wend our way to
other cities, and perhaps to other countries. Mr Blan.
chard is to hold forth in the high church of Paisley on
Sunday next, on some particularly great occasion : this
must be defeated ; he must not go there. As he will
be busy arranging his discourses, we may expect him to
be walking by himself in Finnieston Dell the greater part
of Friday and Saturday. Let us go and cut him off.
What is the life of a man more than the life of a lamb,
or any guiltless animal ? It is not half so much, especially
when we consider the immensity of the mischief this
old fellow is working among our fellow-creatures. Can
there be any doubt that it is the duty of one consecrat-
ed to God, to cut off such a mildew ?”.
“ I fear me, great sovereign,” said I, “ that your ideas
of retribution are too sanguine, and too arbitrary for the
laws of this country. I dispute not that your motives
are great and high ; but have you debated the conse-
quences, and settled the result?”
“I have,” returned he, "and hold myself amenable
for the action, to the laws of God and of equity ; as to
the enactments of men I despise them. Fain would I see
the weapon of providence begin the work of vengeance
that awaits it to do!”
I could not help thinking, that I perceived a little de-
rision of countenance on his face as he said this, never.
theless I sunk dumb before such a man, and aroused my-
self to the task, seeing he would not have it deferred.
I approved of it in theory, but my spirit stood aloof from
the practice. I saw and was convinced that the elect
would be happier, and purer, were the wicked and unbe.
lievers all cut off from troubling and misleading them,
but if it had not been the instigations of this illustrious
stranger, I should never have presumed to begin so great
a work myself. Yet, though he often aroused my zeal
to the highest pitch, still my heart at times shrunk from
the shedding of life-blood, and it was only at the earnest


116
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and uncensing instigations of my enlightened and volun.
tary patron, that I at length put my hand to the conclu.
sive work. After I said all that I could say, and all had
been overborne, (I remember my actions and words as
well as it had been yesterday,) I turned round hesita.
tingly, and looked up to Heaven for direction ; but there
was a dimnnens came over my eyes that I could not see.
The appearance was as if there had been a veil drawn
over me, so nigh that I put up my hand to feel it; and
then Gil-Martin (as this great sovereign was pleased to
have himself called,) frowned, and asked me what I was
grasping at? I knew not what to say, but answered, with
fear and shame, “ I have no weapons, not one ; nor
know I where any are to be found."
· The God whom thou servest will provide these."
said he, “if thou provest worthy of the trust committed
to thee."
I looked again up into the cloudy veil that covered us,
and thought I beheld golden weapons of every descrip
tion let down in it, but all with their points towards me.
I kneeled, and was going to stretch out my hand to take
one, when my patron seized me, as I thought, by the
clothes, and drayyed me away with as much ease as I had
been a lamb, saying, with a joyful and elevated voice,
** Come, my friend, let us depart : thou art dreaming-
thou art dreaming. Rouse up all the energies of thy
exalted mind, for thou art an highly-favoured one ; and
doubt thou not, that he whom thou servest, will be ever
at thy right and left hand, to direct and assist thee."
These words, but particularly the vision I had seen, of
the golden weapons descending out of Heaven, inflamed
my zeal to that height that I was as one beside himself ;
which my parents perceived that night, and made some
motions toward confining me to my room. I joined in
the family prayers, and then I afterwards sung a psalm
and prayed by myself; and I had good reasons for be.
lieving that that small oblation of praise and prayer was
not turned to sin,
I lelt greatly strengthened and encouraged that night,


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
117
and the next morning I ran to meet my companion, out
of whose eye I had now no life. He rejoiced at seeing
me so forward in the great work of reformation by blood,
and said many things to raise my hopes of future fame
and glory; and then, producing two pistols of pure beat-
en gold, he held them out and proffered me the choice
of one, saying, “ See what thy master hath provided
thee !” I took one of them eagerly, for I perceived at
once that they were two of the very weapons that were
let down from Heaven in the cloudy veil, the dim tapes-
try of the firmament; and I said, to myself, “Surely
this is the will of the Lord.”
The little splendid and enchanting piece was so per-
fect, so complete, and so ready for executing the will of
the donor, that I now longed to use it in his service. I
loaded it with my own hand, as Gil. Martin did the other,
and we took our stations behind a bush of hawthorn and
bramble on the verge of the wood, and almost close to
the walk. My patron was so acute in all his calculations
that he never mistook an event. We had not taken our
stand above a minute and a half, till old Mr Blanchard
appeared, coming slowly on the path. When we saw
this, we cowered down, and leaned each of us a knee
upon the ground, pointing the pistols through the bush,
with an aim so steady, that it was impossible to miss our
victim.
He came deliberately on, pausing' at times so long,
that we dreaded he was going to turn. Gil-Martin
dreaded it, and I said I did, but wished in my heart that
he might. He, however, came onward, and I will never
forget the manner in which he came! No, I don't be-
lieve I ever can forget it, either in the narrow bounds of
time or the ages of eternity! He was a boardly ill.
shaped man, of a rude exterior, and a little bent with
age; his hands were clasped behind his back, and below
his coat, and he walked with a slow swinging air that was
very peculiar. When he paused and looked abroad on
hature, the act was highly impressive : he seemed con-
scious of being all alone, and conversant only with God
K 2


118
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and the eleinents of his creation. Never was there such
a picture of human inadverteney! a man approaching
step by step to the one that was to hurl him out of ork
existence into another, with as much ease and indiffer,
ence as the ox goeth to the stall. Hideous vision, wilt
thou not be gone from my mental sight! If not, let me
bear with thee as I can !
When he came straight opposite to the muzzles of our
pieces, GIL-Martin called out " Eh !" with a short quick
sound. The old man, without starting, turned his face
and breast toward us, and looked into the wood, but look
ed over our heads, “ Now!" whispered my companion,
and fired, But my hand refused the office, for I was not
at that moment sure about becoming an assassin in the
cause of Christ and his Church, I thought I heard &
sweet voice behind me, whispering me to beware, and I
was going to look round, when my companion exclaimed,
" Coward, we are ruined !"
I had no time for an alternative: Gil-Martin's hall
had not taken effect, which was altogether wonderful, as
the old man's breast was within a few yards of him,
* IIilloa !" cried Blanchard, " what is that for, you dog"
and with that he came forward to look over the bush, 1
hesitated, as I said, and attempted to look behind me, but
there was no time: the next step discovered two assassins
lying in covert, waiting for blood. "Coward, we are
ruined !" cried my indignant friend ; and that moment my
piece was discharged. The effect was as might have been
expected ; the old man first stumbled to one side, and
then fell on his back. We kept our places, and I per,
ceived my companion's eyes gleaming with an unnatural
joy. The wounded man raised himself from the bank
to a sitting posture, and I beheld his eyes swimming: he,
however, appeared sensible, for we heard him saying in
a low and rattling voice, “ Alas, alas! whom have I of.
fended, that they should have been driven to an act like
this! Come forth and show yourselves, that I may
either forgive you before I die, or curse you in the name
of the Lord," He then fell a groping with both hands


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
119
on the ground, as if feeling for something he had lost,
manifestly in the agonies of death ; and, with a solemn
and interrupted prayer for forgiveness, he breathed his last.
I had become rigid as a statue, whereas my associate
appeared to be elevated above measure. "Arise, thou
faint-hearted one, and let us be going," said he. “ Thou
hast done well for once; but wherefore hesitate in such
a cause? This is but a small beginning of so great a
work as that of purging the Christian world. But the
first victim is a worthy one, and more of such lights must
be extinguished immediately."
We touched not our victim, nor any thing pertaining
to him, for fear of staining our hands with his blood ;
and the firing having brought three men within view, who
were hasting towards the spot, my undaunted companion
took both the pistols, and went forward as with intent
to meet them, bidding me shift for myself. I ran off in
a contrary direction, till I came to the foot of the Pear.
man Sike, and then, running up the hollow of that I ap-
peared on the top of the bank as if I had been another
man brought in view by hearing the shots in such a place.
I had a full view of a part of what passed, though not of
all. I saw my companion going straight to meet the men,
apparently with a pistol in every hand, waving in a care-
less manner. They seemed not quite clear of meeting
with him, and so he went straight on, and passed between
them. They looked after him, and came onward; but
when they came to the old man lying stretched in his
blood, then they turned and pursued my companion,
though not so quickly as they might have done ; and I
understood that from the first they saw no more of him.
Great was the confusion that day in Glasgow. The
most popular of all their preachers of morality was (what
they called) murdered in cold blood, and a strict and
extensive search was made for the assassin. Neither of
the accomplices was found, however, that is certain, nor
was either of them so much as suspected; but another
man was apprehended under circumstances that warrant.
ed suspicion.-This was one of the things that I witness-


120
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ed in my life, which I never understood, and it surely
was one of my patron's most dexterous tricks, for I must
still say, what I have thought from the beginning, that
like him there never was a man created. The young man
who was taken up was a preacher; and it was proved that
he had purchased fire-arms in town, and gone out with
them that morning. But the far greatest mystery of the
whole was, that two of the men, out of the three who
met my companion, swore, that that unfortunate preach.
er was the man whom they met with a pistol in each
hand, fresh from the death of the old divine. The poor
fellow made a confused speech himself, which there is
not the least doubt was quite true; but it was laughed
to scorn, and an expression of horror ran through both
the hearers and jury. I heard the whole trial, and so did
Gil Martin; but we left the journeyman preacher to his
fate, and from that time forth I have had no faith in the
justice of criminal trials. If once a man is prejudiced
on one side, he will swear any thing in support of such
prejudice. I tried to expostulate with my mysterious
friend on the horrid injustice of suffering this young man
to die for our act, but the prince exulted in it more than
the other, and said the latter was the more dangerous
man of the two,
The alarm in and about Glasgow was prodigious. The
country being divided into two political parties, the court
and the country party, the former held meetings, issued
proclamations, and offered rewards, ascribing all to the
violence of party spirit, and deprecating the infernal
measures of their opponents. I did not understand their
political differences ; but it was easy to see that the true
Gospel preachers joined all on one side, and the uphold.
ers of pure morality and a blameless life on the other, 80
that this division proved a test to us, and it was forth-
with resolved, that we two should pick out some of the
leading men of this unsaintly and heterodox cabal, and
cut them off one by one, as occasion should suit.
Now the ice being broke, I felt considerable zeal in
our great work, but pretended much more ; and we might


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
121
soon have kidnapped them all through the ingenuity of
my patron, had not our next attempt miscarried, by some
awkwardness or mistake of mine. The consequence was,
that he was discovered fairly, and very nigh seized. I also
was seen, and suspected so far, that my reverend father,
my mother, and myself were examined privately. I
denied all knowledge of the matter; and they held it in
such a ridiculous light, and their conviction of the com-
plete groundlessness of the suspicion was so perfect, that
their testimony prevailed, and the affair was hushed.
I was obliged, however, to walk circumspectly, and saw
my companion the prince very seldom, who was prowling
about every day, quite unconcerned about his safety.
He was every day a new man, however, and needed not
to be alarmed at any danger; for such a facility had he
in disguising himself, that if it had not been for a pass-
word which we had between us, for the purposes of re-
cognition, I never could have known him myself.
It so happened that my reverend father was called to
Edinburgh about this time, to assist with his council in
settling the national affairs. At my earnest request I
was permitted to accompany him, at which both my as-
sociate and I rejoiced, as we were now about to move in
a new and extensive field. All this time I never knew
where my illustrious friend resided. He never once in-
vited me to call on him at his lodgings, nor did he ever
come to our house, which made me sometimes to suspect,
that if any of our great efforts in the cause of true re-
ligion were discovered he intended leaving me in the
lurch. Consequently, when we met in Edinburgh (for
we travelled not in company) I proposed to go with him
to look for lodgings, telling him at the same time what a
blessed religious family my reverend instructor and I
were settled in. He said he rejoiced at it, but he made
a rule of never lodging in any particular house, but took
these daily, or hourly, as he found it convenient, and
that he never was at a loss in any circumstance.
“What a mighty trouble you put yourself to, great
sovereign !” said I " and all, it would appear, for the


122
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND .
purpose of seeing and knowing more and more of the
human race."
“I never go but where I have some great purpose to
serve," returned he, “either in the advancement of my
own power and dominion, or in thwarting my enemies."
“ With all due deference to your great comprehension,
my illustrious friend,” said I, “it strikes me that you
can accomplish very little either the one way or the
other here, in the humble and private capacity you are
pleased to occupy." .
“ It is your own innate modesty that prompts such a
remark,” said he. “Do you think the gaining of you to
iny service, is not an attainment worthy of being envied
by the greatest potentate in Christendom? Before I had
missed such a prize as the attainment of your services, I
would have travelled over one half of the habitable globe."
- I bowed with great humility, but at the same time how
could I but feel proud and highly flattered ? He con-
tinued. “ Believe me, my dear friend, for such a prize
I account no effort too high. For a man who is not only
dedicated to Heaven, in the most solemn manner, soul,
body, and spirit, but also justified, sanctified, and receive
ed into a communion that never shall be broken, and
from which no act of his shall ever remove him,-the-
possession of such a man, I tell you, is worth kingdoms;
because every deed that he performs, he does it with
perfect safety to himself and honour to me."-I bowed
again, lifting my hat, and he went on." I am now going
to put his courage in the cause he has espoused, to a
severe test—to a trial at which common nature would re-
volt, but he who is dedicated to be the sword of the
Lord, must raise himself above common humanity. You
have a father and a brother according to the flesh, what
do you know of them ?”
“I am sorry to say I know nothing good," said I.
“ They are reprobates, castaways, beings devoted to the
wicked one, and, like him, workers of every species of
iniquity with greediness.”
• “They must both fall !” said he, with a sigh and


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
123
melancholy look; “it is decreed in the councils above,
that they must both fall by your hand.”
“ Heaven forbid it !” said l. “ They are enemies to
Christ and his church, that I know and believe ; but
they shall live and die in their iniquity for me, and reap
their guerdon when their time cometh. There my hand
shall not strike.”
“ The feeling is natural, and amiable," said he ; “but
you must think again. Whether are the bonds of car-
nal nature, or the bonds and vows of the Lord strongest !"
“I will not reason with you on this head, mighty po.
tentate," said I, “ for whenever I do so it is but to be put
down. I shall only express my determination not to
take vengeance out of the Lord's hand in this instance.
It availeth not. These are men that have the mark of
the beast in their foreheads and right hands; they are
lost beings themselves, but have no influence over' others.
Let them perish in their sins; for they shall not be med.
dled with by me.”
“ How preposterously you talk, my dear friend !” said
he. “ These people are your greatest enemies ; they
would rejoice to see you annihilated. And now that you
have taken up the Lord's cause of being avenged on his
enemies, wherefore spare those that are your own as well
as his ? Besides, you ought to consider what great ad-
vantages would be derived to the cause of righteousness
and truth, were the estate and riches of that opulent
house in your possession, rather than in that of such as
oppose the truth and all manner of holiness.”
This was a portion of the consequence of following
my illustrious adviser's summary mode of procedure,
that had never entered into my calculation. I disclaimed
all idea of being influenced by it; however, I cannot but
say that the desire of being enabled to do so much good,
by the possession of these bad men's riches, made some
impression on my heart, and I said I would consider of
the matter. I did consider it, and that right seriously
as well as frequently; and there was scarcely an hour in
the day on which my resolves were not animated by my


124
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
great friend, till at length I began to have a longing de.
sire to kill my brother, in particular. Should any man
ever read this scroll, he will wonder at this confession,
and deem it savage and unnatural. So it appeared to
me at first, but a constant thinking of an event changes
every one of its features. I have done all for the best,
and as I was prompted, by one who knew right and
wrong much better than I did. I had a desire to slay
him, it is true, and such a desire too as a thirsty man has
to drink; but at the same time, this longing desire was
mingled with a certain terror, as if I had dreaded that
the drink for which I longed was mixed with deadly
poison.
My illustrious friend still continuing to sound in my
ears the imperious duty to which I was called, of making
away with my sinful relations, I was obliged to acquiesce
in his measures, though with certain limitations. It was
not easy to answer his arguments, and yet I was afraid
that he soon perceived a leaning to his will on my part.
“ If the acts of Jehu, in rooting out the whole house of
his master, were ordered and approved of by the Lord,”
said he, “ would it not have been more praiseworthy if
one of Ahab's own sons had stood up for the cause of
Israel, and rooted out the sinners and their idols out of
the land ?
“ It would certainly,” said I. “ To our duty to God
all other duties must yield.”
" Go thou then and do likewise," said he. “ Thou
art called to a high vocation; go thou forth then like a
ruling energy, a master spirit of desolation in the dwell.
ings of the wicked, and high shall be your reward both
here and hereafter.”
My heart now panted with eagerness to look my brother
in the face: on which my companion, who was never
out of the way, conducted me to a small square in the
suburbs of the city, where there were a number of young
noblemen and gentlemen playing at a vain, idle, and sin.
ful game, at which there was much of the language of
the accursed going on; and among these blasphemers he


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
125
instantly pointed out my brother to me. I was fired
with indignation at seeing him in such company, and so
employed ; and I placed myself close beside him to watch
all his motions, listen to his words, and draw inferences
from what I saw and heard. In what a sink of sin was
he wallowing! I resolved to take him to task, and if he
refused to be admonished, to inflict on him some condign
punishment; and knowing that my illustrious friend and
director was looking on, I resolved to show some spirit
Accordingly, I waited until I heard him profane his
Maker's name three times, and then, my spiritual indig.
nation being roused above all restraint, I went up and
kicked him. Yes, I went boldly up and struck him
with my foot, and meant to have given him a more
severe blow than it was my fortune to inflict. It had,
however, the effect of rousing up his corrupt nature to
quarrelling and strife, instead of taking the chastisement
in humility and meekness. He ran furiously against me
in the choler that is always inspired by the wicked one;
but I overthrew him, by reason of impeding the natural
and rapid progress of his unholy feet, running to destruc-
tion. I also fell slightly; but his fall proving a severe
one, he arose in wrath, and struck me with the mall
which he held in his hand, until my blood flowed copious-
ly; and from that moment I vowed his destruction in my
heart. But I happened to have no weapon at that time,
nor any means of inflicting due punishment on the caitiff,
which would not have been returned double on my head,
by him and his graceless associates. I mixed among
them at the suggestion of my friend, and following them
to their den of voluptuousness and sin, I strove to be ad-
mitted among them, in hopes of finding some means of
accomplishing iny great purpose, while I found myself
moved by the spirit within me so to do. But I was not
only debarred, but, by the machinations of my wicked
brother and his associates, cast into prison.
I was not sorry at being thus honoured to suffer in the
cause of righteousness, and at the hands of sinful men;
and as soon as I was alone, I betook myself to prayer.
V.


126
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
My jailer came to me, and insulted me. He was a
rude unprincipled fellow, partaking much of the loose and
carnal manners of the age; but I remembered of having
read in the Cloud of Witnesses, of such men formerly
having been converted by the imprisoned saints; so I set
myself, with all my heart, to bring about this man's re-
pentance and reformation.
“Fat the deil are ye yoolling an' praying that gate for,
man ?" said he, coming angrily in. “I thought the
day o' praying prisoners had been a' ower. Gie up your
crooning, or I'll pit you to an in-by place, where ye sall
get plenty o't."
“ Friend,” said I, “ I am making my appeal at that
bar where all human actions are seen and judged, and
where you shall not be forgot, sinful as you are."
I then opened up the mysteries of religion to him in a
clear and perspicuous manner, but particularly the great
doctrine of the election of grace ; and then I added,
“ Now, friend, you must tell me if you pertain to this
chosen number."
“ An' fat the better wad you be for the kenning o'
this, man ?" said he.
“ Because, if you are one of my brethren, I will take
you into sweet communion and fellowship," returned I;
“ but if you belong to the unregenerate, I have a com-
mission to slay you."
“Oo, foo, foo! I see how it is,” said he ; " yours is a
very braw commission, but you will have the small oppor-
tunity of carrying it through here. Take my advising,
and write a bit of a letter to your friends, and I will send
it, for this is no place for such a great man. If you can-
not steady your hand to write, as I see you have been at
your great work, a word of a mouth may do ; for I do as-
sure you this is not the place at all, of any in the world,
for your operations."
The man apparently thought I was deranged in my in-
tellect. He could not swallow such great truths at the
first morsel. So I took his advice, and sent a line to my
reverend father, who was not long in coming, and great


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
127
was the jailer's wonderment when he saw all the great
Christian noblemen of the land sign my bond of free-
dom.
My reverend father took this matter greatly to heart,
and bestirred himself in the good cause till the transgres-
sors were ashamed to show their faces. For my part I
was greatly strengthened in my resolution by the anathe-
mas of my reverend father, who, privately, (that is, in a
family capacity,) in his prayers, gave up my father and
brother, according to the flesh, to Satan, making it plain
to all my senses of perception, that they were beings to
be devoured by fiends or men, at their will and pleasure,
and that whosoever should slay them, would do God good
service.
The next morning my illustrious friend met me at an
early hour, and he was greatly overjoyed at hearing my
sentiments now chime so much in unison with his own.
I said, “ I longed for the day and the hour that I might
look my brother in the face at Gilgal, and visit on him
the iniquity of his father and himself, for that I was now
strengthened and prepared for the deed.”
“I have been watching the steps and movements of
the profligate one," said he ; " and lo, I will take you
straight to his presence. Let your heart be as the heart
of the lion, and your arms strong as the shekels of brass,
and swift to avenge as the bolt that descendeth from Hea-
ren, for the blood of the just and the good hath long
flowed in Scotland. But already is the day of their
avengement begun; the hero is at length arisen, who shall
send all such as bear enmity to the true church, or trust
to in works of their own, to Tophet!”
Thus encouraged, I followed my friend, who led me
directly to the same court in which I had chastised the
miscreant on the foregoing day; and behold, there was
the same group again assembled. They eyed me with
terror in their looks, as I walked among them and eyed
them with looks of disapprobation and rebuke ; and I saw
that the very eye of a chosen one lifted on these children
of Belial, was sufficient to dismay and put them to flight.


128
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
I walked aside to my friend, who stood at a distance
looking on, and he said to me,“ What thinkest thou
now ?" and I answered in the words of the venal prophet,
“Lo now, if I had a sword into mine hand, I would even
kill him."
“ Wherefore lackest thou it?" said he. “ Dost thou
not see that they tremble at thy presence, knowing that
the avenger of blood is among them."
My heart was lifted up on hearing this, and again I
strode into the midst of them, and eyeing them with
threatening looks, they were so much confounded, that
they abandoned their sinful pastime, and fled every one
to his house!
This was a palpable victory gained over the wicked,
and I thereby knew that the hand of the Lord was with
me. My companion also exulted, and said, “ Did not I
tell thee? Behold thou dost not know one half of
thy might, or of the great things thou art destined to do.
Come with me and I will show thee more than this, for
these young men cannot subsist without the exercises of
sin. I listened to their councils, and I know where they
will meet again.”
Accordingly he led me a little farther to the south, and
we walked aside till by degrees we saw some people be-
gin to assemble; and in a short time we perceived the
same group stripping off their clothes to make them more
expert in the practice of madness and folly. Their game
was begun before we approached, and so also were the
oaths and cursing. I put my hands in my pockets, and
walked with dignity and energy into the midst of them.
It was enough: terror and astonishment seized them.
A few of them cried out against me, but their voices were
soon hushed amid the murmurs of fear. One of them, in
the name of the rest, then came and besought of me to
grant them liberty to amuse themselves ; but I refused
peremptorily, dared the whole multitude so much as to
touch me with one of their fingers.
Again they all fled and dispersed at my eye, and I
went home in triumph, escorted by my friend, and some


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
129
well-meaning young Christians, who, however, had not
learned to deport themselves with soberness and humili.
ty. But my ascendency over my enemies was great in-
deed; for wherever I appeared I was hailed with appro-
bation, and wherever my guilty brother made his ap-
pearance, he was hooted and held in derision, till he was
forced to hide his disgraceful head, and appear no more
in public.
Immediately after this I was seized with a strange dis.
temper, which neither my friends nor physicians could
comprehend, and it confined me to my chamber for many
days; but I knew, myself, that I was bewitched, and
suspected my father's reputed concubine of the deed.
I told my fears to my reverend protector, who hesitated
concerning them, but I knew by his words and looks that
he was conscious I was right. I generally conceived
myself to be two people. When I lay in bed, I deemed
there were two of us in it; when I sat up, I always be-
held another person, and always in the same position
from the place where I sat or stood, which was about
three paces off me towards my left side. It mattered not
how many or how few were present : this my second self
was sure to be present in his place; and this occasioned
a confusion in all my words and ideas that utterly astoun-
ded my friends, who all declared, that instead of being
deranged in my intellect, they had never heard my con-
versation manifest so much energy or sublimity of con-
ception ; but for all that, over the singular delusion that
I was two persons, my reasoning faculties had no power.
The most perverse part of it was, that I rarely conceived
myself to be any of the two persons. I thought for the
most part that my companion was one of them, and my
brother the other ; and I found, that to be obliged to
speak and answer in the character of another man, was a
most awkward business at the long run.
Who can doubt, from this statement, that I was be-
witched, and that my relatives were at the ground of it ?
The constant and unnatural persuasion that I was my
brother, proved it to iny own satisfaction, and must, I
L 2


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
131
leave this land. And if you bestir not yourself in the
work to which you are called, I must raise up others who
shall have the honour of it."
“ I am, most illustrious prince, wholly at your service,"
said I. “ Show but what ought to be done, and here i.
the heart to dare, and the hand to execute. You pointed
out my relations, according to the flesh, as brands fitted
to be thrown into the burning. I approved peremptorily
of the award ; nay, I thirst to accomplish it ; for I myself
have suffered severely from their diabolical arts. When
once that trial of my devotion to the faith is accomplished,
then be your future operations disclosed.”
“ You are free of your words and promises," said he.
“So will I be of my deeds in the service of my mas-
ter, and that shalt thou see,” said I. “ I lack not the
spirit, nor the will, but I lack experience wofully; and
because of that short-coming, must bow to your sugges-
tions."
“ Meet me here to-morrow betimes,” said he, “and
perhaps you may hear of some opportunity of displaying
your zeal in the cause of righteousness.”
I met him as he desired me ; and he addressed me
with a hurried and joyful expression, telling me that my
brother was astir, and that a few minutes ago he had seen
him pass on his way to the mountain. “ The hill is
wrapped in a cloud," added he, “and never was there
such an opportunity of executing justice on a guilty
sinner. You may trace him in the dew, and shall in-
fallibly find him on the top of some precipice; for it is
only in secret that he dares show his debased head to
the sun.
“I have no arms, else assuredly I would pursue him
and discomfit him," said I.
" Here is a small dagger," said he ; “I have nothing
of weapon-kind about me save that, but it is a potent
one ; and should you require it, there is nothing more
ready or sure.”
“Will not you accompany me?” said I: “ Sure you
will ?”


132
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“ I will be with you, or near you," said he. “Go you
on before.”
I hurried away as he directed me, and imprudently
asked some of Queensberry's guards if such and such a
young man passed by them going out from the city. I
was answered in the affirmative, and till then had doubted
of my friend's intelligence, it was so inconsistent with a
profligate's life to be early astir. When I got the certain
intelligence that my brother was before me, I fell a-run-
ning, scarcely knowing what I did ; and looking several
times behind me, I perceived nothing of my zealous and
arbitrary friend. The consequence of this was, that by
the time I reached St Anthony's well, my resolution
began to give way. It was not my courage, for now
that I had once shed blood in the cause of the true faith,
I was exceedingly bold and ardent ; but whenever I was
left to myself, I was subject to sinful doubtings.
In this desponding state, I sat myself down on a stone,
and bethought me of the rashness of my undertaking. I
tried to ascertain, to my own satisfaction, whether or not
I really had been commissioned of God to perpetrate these
crimes in his behalf, for in the eyes, and by the laws of
men, they were great and crying transgressions. While
I sat pondering on these things, I was involved in a veil
of white misty vapour, and looking up to heaven, I was
just about to ask direction from above, when I'heard as
it were a still small voice close by me, which uttered
some words of derision and chiding. I looked intensely
in the direction whence it seemed to come, and perceived
a lady, robed in white, who hasted toward me. She
regarded me with a severity of look and gesture that
appalled me so much, I could not address her ; but she
waited not for that, but coming close to my side, said,
without stopping, “ Preposterous wretch ! how dare you
lift your eyes to heaven with such purposes in your
heart? Escape homeward, and save your soul, or fare-
well for ever!”
These were all the words that she uttered, as far as I
could ever recollect, but my spirits were kept in such a


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
133
tumult that morning, that something might have escaped
me. I followed her eagerly with my eyes, but in a
moment she glided over the rocks above the holy well,
and vanished. I persuaded inyself that I had seen a
vision, and that the radiant being that had addressed me
was one of the good angels, or guardian spirits, commis-
sioned by the Almighty to watch over the steps of the
just. My first impulse was to follow her advice, and
make my escape home; for I thought to myself, “ How
is this interested and mysterious foreigner, a proper judge
of the actions of a free Christian ?"
The thought was hardly framed, nor had I moved in a
retrograde direction six steps, when I saw my illustrious
friend and great adviser descending the ridge towards me
with hasty and impassioned strides. My heart fainted
within me; and when he came up and addressed me, I
looked as one caught in a trespass. “What hath detained
thee, thou desponding trifler ?" said he. “ Verily now
shall the golden opportunity be lost which may never be
recalled. I have traced the reprobate to his sanctuary
in the cloud, and lo he is perched on the pinnacle of a
precipice an hundred fathoms high. One ketch with thy
foot, or toss with thy finger, shall throw him from thy
sight into the foldings of the cloud, and he shall be no
more seen, till found at the bottom of the clift dashed to
pieces. Make haste therefore, thou loiterer, if thou
wouldst ever prosper and rise to eminence in the work of
thy master.”
“I go no farther on this work," said I, “for I have
seen a vision that has reprimanded the deed."
“A vision ?” said he: “ Was it that wench who de-
scended from the hill ?"
“ The being that spake to me, and warned me of my
danger, was indeed the form of a lady,” said I.
“ She also approached me and said a few words,"
returned he; “and I thought there was something
mysterious in her manner. Pray, what did she say? for
the words of such a singular message, and from such a
messenger, ought to be attended to. If I understood


134
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
her aright, she was chiding us for our misbelief and pre-
posterous delay.” .
I recited her words, but he answered that I had been
in a state of sinful doubting at the time, and it was to
these doubtings she had adverted. In short, this won-
derful and clear-sighted stranger soon banished all my
doubts and despondency, making me utterly ashamed of
them, and again I set out with him in the pursuit of my
brother. He showed me the traces of his footsteps in the
dew, and pointed out the spot where I should find him.
“ You have nothing more to do than go softly down'
behind him," said he ; "which you can do to within an
ell of him, without being seen ; then rush upon him, and
throw him from his seat, where there is neither footing
nor hold. I will go, meanwhile, and amuse his sight by
some exhibition in the contrary direction, and he shall
neither know nor perceive who has done him this kind
office : for, exclusive of more weighty concerns, be assured
of this, that the sooner he falls, the fewer crimes will he
have to answer for, and his estate in the other world will
be proportionally more tolerable, than if he spent a long
unregenerate life steeped in iniquity to the loathing of
the soul.”
“ Nothing can be more plain or more pertinent,” said
I: “therefore I fly to perform that which is both a duty
toward God and toward man!"
“ You shall yet rise to great honour and preferment,"
said he.
“ I value it not, provided I do honour and justice to
the cause of my master here," said I.
“ You shall be lord of your father's riches and de.
mesnes," added he.
"I disclaim and deride every selfish motive thereto
relating,” said I, “ farther than as it enables me to do
good.”
“ Ay, but that is a great and a heavenly consideration,
that longing for ability to do good," said he; and as he
said so, I could not help remarking a certain derisive
exultation of expression which I could not comprehend;


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
135
and indeed I have noted this very often in my illustrious
friend, and soinetimes mentioned it civilly to him, but
he has never failed to disclaim it. On this occasion
I said nothing, but concealing his poniard in my clothes,
I hasted up the mountain, determined to execute my
purpose before any misgivings should again visit me ; and
I never had more ado, than in keeping firm my resolu-
tion. I could not help my thoughts, and there are cer-
tain trains and classes of thoughts that have great power
in enervating the mind. I thought of the awful thing of
plunging a fellow creature from the top of a cliff into the
dark and misty void below- of his being dashed to
pieces on the protruding rocks, and of hearing his shrieks
as he descended the cloud, and beheld the shagged
points on which he was to alight. Then I thought of
plunging a soul so abruptly into hell, or, at the best,
sending it to hover on the confines of that burning abyss
-of its appearance at the bar of the Almighty to receive
its sentence. And then I thought, “ Will there not be a
sentence pronounced against me there, by a jury of the
just made perfect, and written down in the registers of
heaven ?"
These thoughts, I say, came upon me unasked, and
instead of being able to dispel them, they mustered, upon
the summit of my imagination, in thicker and stronger
array: and there was another that impressed me in a
very particular manner, though, I have reason to believe,
not so strongly as those above written. It was this :
“ What if I should fail in my first effort ? Will the
consequence not be that I am tumbled from the top of
the rock myself ?” and then all the feelings anticipated,
with regard to both body and soul, must happen to me!
This was a spine-breaking reflection; and yet, though
the probability was rather on that side, my zeal in the
cause of godliness was such that carried me on, maugre
all danger and dismay.
I soon came close upon my broiher, sitting on the
dizzy pinnacle, with his eyes fixed stedfastly in the di.
rection opposite to me. I descended the little green


136
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ravine behind him with my feet foremost, and every now
and then raised my head, and watched his motions. His
posture continued the same, until at last I came so near
him I could have heard him breathe, if his face had been
towards me. I laid my cap aside, and made me ready to
spring upon him, and push him over. I could not for
iny life accomplish it! I do not think it was that I durst
not, for I have always felt my courage equal to any thing
in a good cause. But I had not the heart, or something
that I ought to have had. In short, it was not done in
time, as it easily might have been. These THOUGHTS
are hard enemies wherewith to combat! And I was so
grieved that I could not effect my righteous purpose,
that I laid me down on my face and shed tears. Then,
again, I thought of what my great enlightened friend and
patron would say to me, and again my resolution rose
indignant, and indissoluble save by blood. I arose on
my right knee and left foot, and had just begun to ad-
vance the latter forward : the next step my great purpose
had been accomplished, and the culprit had suffered the
punishment due to his crimes. But what moved him I
knew not: in the critical moment he sprung to his feet,
and dashing himself furiously against me, he overthrew
me, at the imminent peril of my life. I disencumbered
myself by main force, and fled, but he overhied me,
knocked me down, and threatened, with dreadful oaths,
to throw me from the cliff. After I was a little recover.
ed from the stunning blow, I aroused myself to the com-
bat ; and though I do not recollect the circumstances of
that deadly scuffle very minutely, I know that I van.
quished him so far as to force him to ask my pardon, and
crave a reconciliation. I spurned at both, and left him
to the chastisements of his own wicked and corrupt heart.
My friend met me again on the hill, and derided me,
in a haughty and stern manner, for my imbecility and
want of decision. I told him how nearly I had effected
my purpose, and excused myself as well as I was able.
On this, seeing me bleeding, he advised me to swear the
eace against my brother, and have him punished in the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
137
unean time, he being the first aggressor. I promised
compliance, and we parted, for I was somewhat ashamed
of my failure, and was glad to be quit for the present of
one of whom I stood so much in awe.
When my reverend father beheld me bleeding a se.
cond time by the hand of a brother, he was moved to the
highest point of displeasure; and relying on his high in-
terest and the justice of his cause, he brought the matter
at once before the courts. My brother and I were first
examined face to face. His declaration was a mere ro-
mance : mine was not the truth ; but as it was by the ad-
vice of my reverend father, and that of my illustrious
friend, that I gave it, I conceived myself completely justi-
fied on that score. I said, I had gone up into the
mountain early on the morning to pray, and had with-
drawn myself, for entire privacy, into a little sequestered
dell—had laid aside my cap, and was in the act of kneel.
ing, when I was rudely attacked by my brother, knocked
over, and nearly slain. They asked my brother if this
was true. He acknowledged that it was; that I was
bare-headed, and in the act of kneeling when he ran foul
of me without any intent of doing so. But the judge
took him to task on the improbability of this, and put the
profligate sore out of countenance. The rest of his tale
told still worse, insomuch that he was laughed at by all
present, for the judge remarked to him, that granting it
was true that he had at first run against me on an open
mountain, and overthrown me by accident, how was it,
that after I had extricated myself and fled, that he had
pursued, overtaken, and knocked me down a second time?
Would he pretend that all that was likewise by chance?
The culprit had nothing to say for himself on this head,
and I shall not forget my exultation and that of my reve.
rend father, when the sentence of the judge was delivered.
It was, that my wicked brother should be thrown into
prison, and tried on a criminal charge of assault and
battery, with the intent of committing murder. This
was a just and righteous judge, and saw things in their
proper bearings, that is, he could discern between a
v.
M


128
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
I walked aside to my friend, who stood at a distance
looking on, and he said to me, “ What thinkest thou
now ?" and I answered in the words of the venal prophet,
“Lo now, if I had a sword into mine hand, I would even
kill him."
“ Wherefore lackest thou it?" said he. “Dost thou
not see that they tremble at thy presence, knowing that
the avenger of blood is among them."
My heart was lifted up on hearing this, and again I
strode into the midst of them, and eyeing them with
threatening looks, they were so much confounded, that
they abandoned their sinful pastime, and fled every one
to his house!
This was a palpable victory gained over the wicked,
and I thereby knew that the hand of the Lord was with
me. My companion also exulted, and said, “ Did not I
tell thee? Behold thou dost not know one half of
thy might, or of the great things thou art destined to do.
Come with me and I will show thee more than this, for
these young men cannot subsist without the exercises of
sin. I listened to their councils, and I know where they
will meet again.”
Accordingly he led me a little farther to the south, and
we walked aside till by degrees we saw some people be-
gin to assemble; and in a short time we perceived the
same group stripping off their clothes to make them more
expert in the practice of madness and folly. Their game
was begun before we approached, and so also were the
oaths and cursing. I put my hands in my pockets, and
walked with dignity and energy into the midst of them.
It was enough: terror and astonishment seized them.
A few of them cried out against me, but their voices were
soon hushed amid the murmurs of fear. One of them, in
the name of the rest, then came and besought of me to
grant them liberty to amuse themselves ; but I refused
peremptorily, dared the whole multitude so much as to
touch me with one of their fingers.
Again they all fled and dispersed at my eye, and I
went home in triumph, escorted by iny friend, and some


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
129
well-meaning young Christians, who, however, had not
learned to deport themselves with soberness and humili-
ty. But my ascendency over my enemies was great in-
deed; for wherever I appeared I was hailed with appro-
bation, and wherever my guilty brother made his ap-
pearance, he was hooted and held in derision, till he was
forced to hide his disgraceful head, and appear no more
in public.
Immediately after this I was seized with a strange dis-
temper, which neither my friends nor physicians could
comprehend, and it confined me to my chamber for many
days ; but I knew, myself, that I was bewitched, and
suspected my father's reputed concubine of the deed.
I told my fears to my reverend protector, who hesitated
concerning them, but I knew by his words and looks that
he was conscious I was right. I generally conceived
myself to be two people. When I lay in bed, I deemed
there were two of us in it; when I sat up, I always be.
held another person, and always in the same position
from the place where I sat or stood, which was about
three paces off me towards my left side. It mattered not
how many or how few were present : this my second self
was sure to be present in his place; and this occasioned
a confusion in all my words and ideas that utterly astoun-
ded my friends, who all declared, that instead of being
deranged in my intellect, they had never heard my con-
versation manifest so much energy or sublimity of con-
ception ; but for all that, over the singular delusion that
I was two persons, my reasoning faculties had no power.
The most perverse part of it was, that I rarely conceived
myself to be any of the two persons. I thought for the
most part that my companion was one of them, and my
brother the other; and I found, that to be obliged to
speak and answer in the character of another man, was a
most awkward business at the long run.
Who can doubt, from this statement, that I was be-
witched, and that my relatives were at the ground of it?
The constant and unnatural persuasion that I was my
brother, proved it to iny own satisfaction, and must, I
L2


130
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
think, do so to every unprejudiced person. This victory
of the wicked one over me kept me confined in my cham.
ber, at Mr Millar's house, for nearly a month, until the
prayers of the faithful prevailed, and I was restored. 1
knew it was a chastisement for my pride, because my
heart was lifted up at my superiority over the enemies of
the church ; nevertheless, I determined to make short
work with the aggressor, that the righteous might not be
subjected to the effect of his diabolical arts again.
I say I was confined a month. I beg he that readeth
to take note of this, that he may estimate how much
the word, or even the oath, of a wicked man, is to depend
on. For a month I saw no one but such as came into
my room, and for all that, it will be seen, that there were
plenty of the same set to attest upon oath that I saw my
brother every day during that period ; that I persecuted
him with my presence day and night, while all the time
I never saw his face, save in a delusive dream. I cannot
comprehend what mancuvres my illustrious friend was
playing off with them about this time ; for he, having the
art of personating whom he chose, had peradventure
deceived them, else so many of them had never all attested
the same thing. I never saw any man so steady in his
friendships and attentions as he ; but as he made a rule
of never calling at private houses, for fear of some disco-
very being made of his person, so I never saw him while
my malady lasted ; but as soon as I grew better, I knew
I had nothing ado but to attend at some of our places of
meeting, to see him again. He was punctual, as usual,
and I had not to wait.
My reception was precisely as I apprehended. There
was no flaring, no flummery, nor bombastical pretensions,
but a dignified return to my obeisance, and an immediate
recurrence, in converse, to the important duties incum.
bent on us, in our stations, as reformers and purifiers of
the Church.
“I have marked out a number of most dangerous
characters in this city," said he, “ all of whom must be
cut off from encumbering the true vineyard before we


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
131
leave this land. And if you bestir not yourself in the
work to which you are called, I must raise up others who
shall have the honour of it."
“ I am, most illustrious prince, wholly at your service,"
said I. “ Show but what ought to be done, and here ir
the heart to dare, and the hand to execute. You pointed
out my relations, according to the flesh, as brands fitted
to be thrown into the burning. I approved peremptorily
of the award ; nay, I thirst to accomplish it ; for I myself
have suffered severely from their diabolical arts. When
once that trial of my devotion to the faith is accomplished,
then be your future operations disclosed."
" You are free of your words and promises," said he.
“ So will I be of my deeds in the service of my mas-
ter, and that shalt thou see,” said I. “I lack not the
spirit, nor the will, but I lack experience wofully; and
because of that short-coming, must bow to your sugges-
tions.
“ Meet me here to-morrow betimes," said he, “and
perhaps you may hear of some opportunity of displaying
your zeal in the cause of righteousness."
I met him as he desired me ; and he addressed me
with a hurried and joyful expression, telling me that my
brother was astir, and that a few minutes ago he had seen
him pass on his way to the mountain. “ The hill is
wrapped in a cloud,” added he, “and never was there
such an opportunity of executing justice on a guilty
sinner. You may trace him in the dew, and shall in-
fallibly find him on the top of some precipice; for it is
only in secret that he dares show his debased head to
the sun.
“ I have no arms, else assuredly I would pursue him
and discomfit him," said I.
“ Here is a small dagger," said he; “I have nothing
of weapon-kind about me save that, but it is a potent
one ; and should you require it, there is nothing more
ready or sure.”
“Will not you accompany me ?" said I: “ Sure you
will ?"


132
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“I will be with you, or near you," said he. “Go you
on before."
I hurried away as he directed me, and imprudently
asked some of Queensberry's guards if such and such a
young man passed by them going out from the city. I
was answered in the affirmative, and till then had doubted
of my friend's intelligence, it was so inconsistent with a
profligate's life to be early astir. When I got the certain
intelligence that my brother was before me, I fell a-run.
ning, scarcely knowing what I did ; and looking several
times behind me, I perceived nothing of my zealous and
arbitrary friend. The consequence of this was, that by
the time I reached St Anthony's well, my resolution
began to give way. It was not my courage, for now
that I had once shed blood in the cause of the true faith,
I was exceedingly bold and ardent; but whenever I was
left to myself, I was subject to sinful doubtings.
In this desponding state, I sat myself down on a stone,
and bethought me of the rashness of my undertaking. I
tried to ascertain, to my own satisfaction, whether or not
I really had been commissioned of God to perpetrate these
crimes in his behalf, for in the eyes, and by the laws of
men, they were great and crying transgressions. While
I sat pondering on these things, I was involved in a veil
of white misty vapour, and looking up to heaven, I was
just about to ask direction from above, when I'heard as
it were a still small voice close by me, which uttered
some words of derision and chiding. I looked intensely
in the direction whence it seemed to come, and perceived
a lady, robed in white, who hasted toward me. She
regarded me with a severity of look and gesture that
appalled me so much, I could not address her ; but she
waited not for that, but coming close to my side, said,
without stopping, “ Preposterous wretch ! how dare you
lift your eyes to heaven with such purposes in your
heart ? Escape homeward, and save your soul, or fare.
well for ever!"
These were all the words that she uttered, as far as I
could ever recollect, but my spirits were kept in such a


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
133
tumult that morning, that something might have escaped
me. I followed her eagerly with my eyes, but in a
moment she glided over the rocks above the holy well,
and vanished. I persuaded inyself that I had seen a
vision, and that the radiant being that had addressed me
was one of the good angels, or guardian spirits, commis-
sioned by the Almighty to watch over the steps of the
just. My first impulse was to follow her advice, and
make my escape home; for I thought to myself, “How
is this interested and mysterious foreigner, a proper judge
of the actions of a free Christian ?”
The thought was hardly framed, nor had I moved in a
retrograde direction six steps, when I saw my illustrious
friend and great adviser descending the ridge towards me
with hasty and impassioned strides. My heart fainted
within me ; and when he came up and addressed me, I
looked as one caught in a trespass. “What hath detained
thee, thou desponding trifler ?" said he. “Verily now
shall the golden opportunity be lost which may never be
recalled. I have traced the reprobate to his sanctuary
in the cloud, and lo he is perched on the pinnacle of a
precipice an hundred fathoms high. One ketch with thy
foot, or toss with thy finger, shall throw him from thy
sight into the foldings of the cloud, and he shall be no
more seen, till found at the bottom of the clift dashed to
pieces. Make haste therefore, thou loiterer, if thou
wouldst ever prosper and rise to eminence in the work of
thy master."
“I go no farther on this work,” said I, “ for I have
seen a vision that has reprimanded the deed."
“ A vision ?" said he: “ Was it that wench who de-
scended from the hill ?"
“ The being that spake to me, and warned me of my
danger, was indeed the form of a lady,” said I.
“She also approached me and said a few words,"
returned he; “and I thought there was something
mysterious in her manner. Pray, what did she say? for
the words of such a singular message, and from such a
messenger, ought to be attended to. If I understood


134
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
her aright, she was chiding us for our misbelief and pre.
posterous delay." .
I recited her words, but he answered that I had been
in a state of sinful doubting at the time, and it was to
these doubtings she had adverted. In short, this won-
derful and clear-sighted stranger soon banished all my
doubts and despondency, making me utterly ashamed of
them, and again I set out with him in the pursuit of my
brother. He showed me the traces of his footsteps in the
dew, and pointed out the spot where I should find him.
“ You have nothing more to do than go softly down
behind him," said he ; " which you can do to within an
ell of him, without being seen ; then rush upon him, and
throw him from his seat, where there is neither footing
nor hold. I will go, meanwhile, and amuse his sight by
some exhibition in the contrary direction, and he shall
neither know nor perceive who has done him this kind
office : for, exclusive of more weighty concerns, be assured
of this, that the sooner he falls, the fewer crimes will he
have to answer for, and his estate in the other world will
be proportionally more tolerable, than if he spent a long
unregenerate life steeped in iniquity to the loathing of
the soul."
“ Nothing can be more plain or more pertinent," said
I: “therefore I fly to perform that which is both a duty
toward God and toward man!"
“ You shall yet rise to great honour and preferment,"
said he.
“ I value it not, provided I do honour and justice to
the cause of my master here," said I.
“ You shall be lord of your father's riches and de.
mesnes," added he.
“I disclaim and deride every selfish motive thereto
relating," said I, “farther than as it enables me to do
good."
“Ay, but that is a great and a heavenly consideration,
that longing for ability to do good," said he;--and as he
said so, I could not help remarking a certain derisive
exultation of expression which I could not coinprehend;


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
135
and indeed I have noted this very often in my illustrious
friend, and soinetimes mentioned it civilly to him, but
he has never failed to disclaim it. On this occasion
I said nothing, but concealing his poniard in my clothes,
I hasted up the mountain, determined to execute my
purpose before any misgivings should again visit me ; and
I never had more ado, than in keeping firm my resolu-
tion. I could not help my thoughts, and there are cer-
tain trains and classes of thoughts that have great power
in enervating the mind. I thought of the awful thing of
plunging a fellow creature from the top of a cliff into the
dark and misty void below- of his being dashed to
pieces on the protruding rocks, and of hearing his shrieks
as he descended the cloud, and beheld the shagged
points on which he was to alight. Then I thought of
plunging a soul so abruptly into hell, or, at the best,
sending it to hover on the confines of that burning abyss
-of its appearance at the bar of the Almighty to receive
its sentence. And then I thought, “Will there not be a
sentence pronounced against me there, by a jury of the
just made perfect, and written down in the registers of
heaven ?"
These thoughts, I say, came upon me unasked, and
instead of being able to dispel them, they mustered, upon
the summit of my imagination, in thicker and stronger
array: and there was another that impressed me in a
very particular manner, though, I have reason to believe,
not so strongly as those above written. It was this :
“ What if I should fail in my first effort ? Will the
consequence not be that I am tumbled from the top of
the rock myself ?” and then all the feelings anticipated,
with regard to both body and soul, must happen to me!
This was a spine-breaking reflection; and yet, though
the probability was rather on that side, my zeal in the
cause of godliness was such that carried me on, maugre
all danger and dismay.
I soon came close upon my broiher, sitting on the
dizzy pinnacle, with his eyes fixed stedfastly in the di.
rection opposite to me. I descended the little green


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
137
mean time, he being the first aggressor. I promised
compliance, and we parted, for I was somewhat ashamed
of my failure, and was glad to be quit for the present of
one of whom I stood so much in awe.
When my reverend father beheld me bleeding a se-
cond time by the hand of a brother, he was moved to the
highest point of displeasure; and relying on his high in-
terest and the justice of his cause, he brought the matter
at once before the courts. My brother and I were first
examined face to face. His declaration was a mere ro-
mance : mine was not the truth ; but as it was by the ad.
vice of my reverend father, and that of my illustrious
friend, that I gave it, I conceived myself completely justi-
fied on that score. I said, I had gone up into the
mountain early on the morning to pray, and had with.
drawn myself, for entire privacy, into a little sequestered
dell—had laid aside my cap, and was in the act of kneel.
ing, when I was rudely attacked by my brother, knocked
over, and nearly slain. They asked my brother if this
was true. He acknowledged that it was; that I was
bare-headed, and in the act of kneeling when he ran foul
of me without any intent of doing so. But the judge
took him to task on the improbability of this, and put the
profligate sore out of countenance. The rest of his tale
told still worse, insomuch that he was laughed at by all
present, for the judge remarked to him, that granting it
was true that he had at first run against me on an open
mountain, and overthrown me by accident, how was it,
that after I had extricated myself and fled, that he had
pursued, overtaken, and knocked me down a second time?
Would he pretend that all that was likewise by chance ?
The culprit had nothing to say for himself on this head,
and I shall not forget my exultation and that of my reve.
rend father, when the sentence of the judge was delivered.
It was, that my wicked brother should be thrown into
prison, and tried on a criminal charge of assault and
battery, with the intent of committing murder. This
was a just and righteous judge, and saw things in their
proper bearings, that is, he could discern between a
M


13e
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
righteous and a wicked man, and then there could be no
doubt as to which of the two were acting right, am
which wrong.
My time was now much occupied, along with my re-
verend perceptor, in making ready for the approaching
trial, as the prosecutors. Our counsel assured us of a
complete victory, and that banishment would be the
mildest award of the law on the offender, Mark hou
different was the result! From the shifts and ambigu.
ities of a wicked Bench, who had a fellow-feeling of ini.
quity with the defenders--my suit was cast, the gracelets
libertine was absolved, and I was incarcerated, and bound
over to keep the peace, with heavy penalties, before I
was set at liberty.
I was exceedingly disgusted at this issue, and blamed
the counsel of my friend to his face. He expressed great
grief, and expatiated on the wickedness of our judicato
ries, adding, “I see I cannot depend on you for quick
and summary measures, but for your sake I shall be re-
venged on that wicked judge, and that you shall see in a
few dayx." The Lord Justice Clerk died that same
week! But he died in his own house and his own bed,
and by what means my friend effected it, I do not know.
He would not tell me a single word of the matter, but
the judge's sudden death made a great noise, and I made
so many curious inquiries regarding the particulars of it,
that some suspicions were like to attach to our family, of
some unfair means used. For my part I know nothing,
and rather think he died by the visitation of Heaven, and
that my friend had foreseen it, by symptoms, and soothed
me by promises of complete revenge.
It was some days before he mentioned my brother's
meditated death to me again, and certainly he then found
me exasperated against him personally to the highest de.
gree. But I told him that I could not now think any
more of it, owing to the late judgment of the court, by
which, if my brother were missing or found dead, I would
not only forfeit my life, but my friends would be ruined
by the penalties.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
139
“ I suppose you know and believe in the perfect safety
of your soul,” said he.
“I believe in it thoroughly and perfectly,” said I ; "and
whenever I entertain doubts of it, I am sensible of sin
and weakness.”
“Very well, so then am I,” said he. “I think I can
now divine, with all manner of certainty, what will be the
high and merited guerdon of your immortal part. Hear
me then farther: I give you my solemn assurance, and
bond of blood, that no human hand shall ever henceforth
be able to injure your life, or shed one drop of your pre-
cious blood, but it is on the condition that you walk al.
ways by my directions."
“ I will do so with cheerfulness,” said I; “ for without
your enlightened counsel, I feel that I can do nothing.
But as to your power of protecting my life, you must ex-
cuse me for doubting of it. Nay, were we in your own
proper dominions, you could not ensure that.”
“In whatever dominion or land I am, my power ac-
companies me," said he ; " and it is only against human
might and human weapon that I ensure your life; on
that will I keep an eye, and on that you may depend.
I have never broken word or promise with you. Do
you credit me ?"
“ Yes, I do,” said I; “ for I see you are in earnest.
I believe, though I do not comprehend you."
“Then why do you not at once challenge your bro-
ther to the field of honour ? Seeing you now act with-
out danger, cannot you also act without fear?”
“ It is not fear," returned I; “ believe me, I hardly
know what fear is. It is a doubt, that on all these emer-
gencies constantly haunts my mind, that in performing
such and such actions I may fall from my upright state.
This makes fratricide a fearful task.”
“This is imbecility itself,” said he. “We have set.
tled, and agreed on that point an hundred times. I
would therefore advise that you challenge your brother
to single coinbat. I shall ensure your safety, and he
cannot refuse giving you satisfaction."


130
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
think, do so to every unprejudiced person. This victory
of the wicked one over me kept me confined in my cham-
ber, at Mr Millar's house, for nearly a month, until the
prayers of the faithful prevailed, and I was restored. I
knew it was a chastisement for my pride, because my
heart was lifted up at my superiority over the enemies of
the church ; nevertheless, I determined to make short
work with the aggressor, that the righteous might not be
subjected to the effect of his diabolical arts again.
I say I was confined a month. I beg he that readeth
to take note of this, that he may estimate how much
the word, or even the oath, of a wicked man, is to depend
on. For a month I saw no one but such as came into
my room, and for all that, it will be seen, that there were
plenty of the same set to attest upon oath that I saw my
brother every day during that period ; that I persecuted
him with my presence day and night, while all the time
I never saw his face, save in a delusive dream. I cannot
comprehend what manæuvres my illustrious friend was
playing off with them about this time ; for he, having the
art of personating whom he chose, had peradventure
deceived them, else so many of them had never all attested
the same thing. I never saw any man so steady in his
friendships and attentions as he ; but as he made a rule
of never calling at private houses, for fear of some disco-
very being made of his person, so I never saw him while
my malady lasted ; but as soon as I grew better, I knew
I had nothing ado but to attend at some of our places of
meeting, to see him again. He was punctual, as usual,
and I had not to wait.
My reception was precisely as I apprehended. There
was no flaring, no flummery, nor bombastical pretensions,
but a dignified return to my obeisance, and an immediate
recurrence, in converse, to the important duties incum.
bent on us, in our stations, as reformers and purifiers of
the Church.
“I have marked out a number of most dangerous
characters in this city," said he, “all of whom must be
cut off from encumbering the true vineyard before we


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
131
leave this land. And if you bestir not yourself in the
work to which you are called, I must raise up others who
shall have the honour of it."
“ I am, most illustrious prince, wholly at your service,"
said I. “Show but what ought to be done, and here i.
the heart to dare, and the hand to execute. You pointed
out my relations, according to the flesh, as brands fitted
to be thrown into the burning. I approved peremptorily
of the award ; nay, I thirst to accomplish it ; for I myself
have suffered severely from their diabolical arts. When
once that trial of my devotion to the faith is accomplished,
then be your future operations disclosed."
“ You are free of your words and promises," said he.
“So will I be of my deeds in the service of my mas-
ter, and that shalt thou see,” said I. “ I lack not the
spirit, nor the will, but I lack experience wofully; and
because of that short-coming, must bow to your sugges-
tions.”
“ Meet me here to-morrow betimes,” said he," and
perhaps you may hear of some opportunity of displaying
your zeal in the cause of righteousness."
I met him as he desired me ; and he addressed me
with a hurried and joyful expression, telling me that my
brother was astir, and that a few minutes ago he had seen
him pass on his way to the mountain. “ The hill is
wrapped in a cloud," added he, “and never was there
such an opportunity of executing justice on a guilty
sinner. You may trace him in the dew, and shall in-
fallibly find him on the top of some precipice; for it is
only in secret that he dares show his debased head to
the sun.
"I have no arms, else assuredly I would pursue him
and discomfit him,” said I.
“ Here is a small dagger," said he ; “I have nothing
of weapon-kind about me save that, but it is a potent
one ; and should you require it, there is nothing more
ready or sure.”
“Will not you accompany me ?" said 1: “ Sure you
will ?"


ܕ
ܐ ܕ ܗ
ܐ
ܘܣ
ܠܪܝܕܐ


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
133
Forning, that something might have escaped
lowed her eagerly with my eyes, but in a
glided over the rocks above the holy well,
dl. I persuaded inyself that I had seen a
that the radiant being that had addressed me
the good angels, or guardian spirits, commis-
e Almighty to watch over the steps of the
irst impulse was to follow her advice, and
ape home; for I thought to myself, “ How
sted and mysterious foreigner, a proper judge
us of a free Christian ?”
ght was hardly framed, nor had I moved in a
Mirection six steps, when I saw my illustrious
eat adviser descending the ridge towards me
ind impassioned strides. My heart fainted
and when he came up and addressed me, I
Te caught in a trespass. “What hath detained
desponding trifler ?" said he. “ Verily now
den opportunity be lost which may never be
have traced the reprobate to his sanctuary
and lo he is perched on the pinnacle of a
hundred fathoms high. One ketch with thy
with thy finger, shall throw him from thy
the foldings of the cloud, and he shall be no
till found at the bottom of the clift dashed to
Take haste therefore, thou loiterer, if thou
er prosper and rise to eminence in the work of

10 farther on this work," said I, “ for I have
on that has reprimanded the deed.”
on?" said he: “ Was it that wench who de-
on the hill?"
eing that spake to me, and warned me of my
is indeed the form of a lady,” said I.
also approached me and said a few words,"
he; "and I thought there was something
us in her manner. Pray, what did she say? for
of such a singular message, and from such a
e, ought to be attended to. If I understood


132
PRIVATK MEMOIIS AND
"I will be with you, or near you," said he. " Go you
on before."
I hurried away as he directed me, and imprudently
asked some of Queensberry's guards iſ such and such *
young man passed by them going out from the city. I
was answered in the affirmative, and till then had doubted
of my friend's intelligence, it was so inconsistent with a
profligate's life to be early astir. When I got the certain
intelligence that my brother was before me, I fell x-run.
ning, scarcely knowing what I did ; and looking several
times behind me, I perceived nothing of my zealous and
arbitrary friend. The consequence of this was, that by
the time I reached St Anthony's well, my resolution
began to give way. It was not my courage, for now
that I had once shed blood in the cause of the true faith,
I was exceedingly bold and ardent ; but whenever I was
left to myself, I was subject to sinful doubtings.
In this desponding state, I sat myself down on a stone,
and bethought me of the rashness of my undertaking. I
tried to ascertain, to my own satisfaction, whether or not
I really had been commissioned of God to perpetrate these
crimes in his behalf, for in the eyes, and by the laws of
men, they were great and crying transgressions. While
I sat pondering on these things, I was involved in an veil
of white inisty vapour, and looking up to heaven, I was
just about to ask direction from above, when I heard as
it were a still small voice close by me, which uttered
some words of derision and chiding. I looked intensely
in the direction whence it seemed to come, and perceived
a lady, robed in white, who hasted toward me. She
regarded me with a severity of look and gesture that
appalled me so much, I could not address her ; but she
waited not for that, but coming close to my side, said,
without stopping, “ Preposterous wretch! how dare you
liſt your eyes to heaven with such purposes in you
heart? Escape homeward, and save your soul, or in
well for ever I"
These were all the words that she uttered, as far
could ever recollect, but my spirits were kept in such


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
133
tumult that morning, that something might have escaped
me. I followed her eagerly with my eyes, but in a
inoment she glided over the rocks above the holy well,
and vanished. I persuaded inyself that I had seen a
vision, and that the radiant being that had addressed me
was one of the good angels, or guardian spirits, commis-
sioned by the Almighty to watch over the steps of the
just. My first impulse was to follow her advice, and
make my escape home; for I thought to myself, “ How
is this interested and mysterious foreigner, a proper judge
of the actions of a free Christian ?”
The thought was hardly framed, nor had I moved in a
retrograde direction six steps, when I saw my illustrious
friend and great adviser descending the ridge towards me
with hasty and impassioned strides. My heart fainted
within me ; and when he came up and addressed me, I
looked as one caught in a trespass. “ What hath detained
thee, thou desponding trifler ?" said he. “Verily now
shall the golden opportunity be lost which may never be
recalled. I have traced the reprobate to his sanctuary
in the cloud, and lo he is perched on the pinnacle of a
precipice an hundred fathoms high. One ketch with thy
foot, or toss with thy finger, shall throw him from thy
sight into the foldings of the cloud, and he shall be no
more seen, till found at the bottom of the clift dashed to
pieces. Make haste therefore, thou loiterer, if thou
wouldst ever prosper and rise to eminence in the work of
thy master.”
“I go no farther on this work,” said I, “for I have
seen a vision that has reprimanded the deed."
"A vision ?” said he: “ Was it that wench who de.
scended from the hill ?"
"The being that spake to me, and warned me of my
danger, was indeed the form of a lady,” said I.
"She also approached me and said a few words,"
returned he ; "and I thought there was something
mysterious in her manner. Pray, what did she say? for
the words of such a singular message, and from such a
messenger, ought to be attended to. If I understood


132
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“ I will be with you, or near you," said he. “Go you
on before."
I hurried away as he directed me, and imprudently
asked some of Queensberry's guards if such and such a
young man passed by them going out from the city. I
was answered in the affirmative, and till then had doubted
of my friend's intelligence, it was so inconsistent with a
profligate's life to be early astir. When I got the certain
intelligence that my brother was before me, I fell a-run.
ning, scarcely knowing what I did ; and looking several
times behind me, I perceived nothing of my zealous and
arbitrary friend. The consequence of this was, that by
the time I reached St Anthony's well, my resolution
began to give way. It was not my courage, for now
that I had once shed blood in the cause of the true faith,
I was exceedingly bold and ardent; but whenever I was
left to myself, I was subject to sinful doubtings.
In this desponding state, I sat myself down on a stone,
and bethought me of the rashness of my undertaking. I
tried to ascertain, to my own satisfaction, whether or not
I really had been commissioned of God to perpetrate these
crimes in his behalf, for in the eyes, and by the laws of
men, they were great and crying transgressions. While
I sat pondering on these things, I was involved in a veil
of white misty vapour, and looking up to heaven, I was
just about to ask direction from above, when I'heard as
it were a still small voice close by me, which uttered
some words of derision and chiding. I looked intensely
in the direction whence it seemed to come, and perceived
a lady, robed in white, who hasted toward me. She
regarded me with a severity of look and gesture that
appalled me so much, I could not address her ; but she
waited not for that, but coming close to my side, said,
without stopping, “ Preposterous wretch ! how dare you
lift your eyes to heaven with such purposes in your
heart ? Escape homeward, and save your soul, or fare.
well for ever!"
These were all the words that she uttered, as far as I
could ever recollect, but my spirits were kept in such a


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
133
tumult that morning, that something might have escaped
me. I followed her eagerly with my eyes, but in a
moment she glided over the rocks above the holy well,
and vanished. I persuaded inyself that I had seen a
vision, and that the radiant being that had addressed me
was one of the good angels, or guardian spirits, commis-
sioned by the Almighty to watch over the steps of the
just. My first impulse was to follow her advice, and
make my escape home; for I thought to myself, “ How
is this interested and mysterious foreigner, a proper judge
of the actions of a free Christian ?”
The thought was hardly framed, nor had I moved in a
retrograde direction six steps, when I saw my illustrious
friend and great adviser descending the ridge towards me
with hasty and impassioned strides. My heart fainted
within me; and when he came up and addressed me, I
looked as one caught in a trespass. “What hath detained
thee, thou desponding trifler ?" said he. “ Verily now
shall the golden opportunity be lost which may never be
recalled. I have traced the reprobate to his sanctuary
in the cloud, and lo he is perched on the pinnacle of a
precipice an hundred fathoms high. One ketch with thy
foot, or toss with thy finger, shall throw him from thy
sight into the foldings of the cloud, and he shall be no
more seen, till found at the bottom of the clift dashed to
pieces. Make haste therefore, thou loiterer, if thou
wouldst ever prosper and rise to eminence in the work of
thy master.”
“ I go no farther on this work,” said I, “ for I have
seen a vision that has reprimanded the deed."
“A vision ?" said he: “ Was it that wench who de-
scended from the hill ?"
“ The being that spake to me, and warned me of my
danger, was indeed the form of a lady,” said I.
“She also approached me and said a few words,"
returned he; “and I thought there was something
mysterious in her manner. Pray, what did she say? for
the words of such a singular message, and from such a
messenger, ought to be attended to. If I understood


134
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
her aright, she was chiding us for our misbelief and pre.
posterous delay.” :
I recited her words, but he answered that I had been
in a state of sinful doubting at the time, and it was to
these doubtings she had adverted. In short, this won-
derful and clear-sighted stranger soon banished all my
doubts and despondency, making me utterly ashamed of
them, and again I set out with him in the pursuit of my
brother. He showed me the traces of his footsteps in the
dew, and pointed out the spot where I should find him.
“ You have nothing more to do than go softly down
behind him," said he ; "which you can do to within an
ell of him, without being seen ; then rush upon him, and
throw him from his seat, where there is neither footing
nor hold. I will go, meanwhile, and amuse his sight by
some exhibition in the contrary direction, and he shall
neither know nor perceive who has done him this kind
office : for, exclusive of more weighty concerns, be assured
of this, that the sooner he falls, the fewer crimes will he
have to answer for, and his estate in the other world will
be proportionally more tolerable, than if he spent a long
unregenerate life steeped in iniquity to the loathing of
the soul."
" Nothing can be more plain or more pertinent," said
I: “therefore I fly to perform that which is both a duty
toward God and toward man!"
" You shall yet rise to great honour and preferment,"
said he.
“ I value it not, provided I do honour and justice to
the cause of my master here," said I.
“ You shall be lord of your father's riches and de.
mesnes," added he.
“ I disclaim and deride every selfish motive thereto
relating,” said I, “ farther than as it enables me to do
good."
“Ay, but that is a great and a heavenly consideration,
that longing for ability to do good,” said he;-and as he
said so, I could not help remarking a certain derisive
exultation of expression which I could not comprehend ;


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
135
and indeed I have noted this very often in my illustrious
friend, and soinetimes mentioned it civilly to him, but
he has never failed to disclaim it. On this occasion
I said nothing, but concealing his poniard in my clothes,
Ihasted up the mountain, determined to execute my
purpose before any misgivings should again visit me ; and
I never had more ado, than in keeping firm my resolu-
tion. I could not help my thoughts, and there are cer-
tain trains and classes of thoughts that have great power
in enervating the mind. I thought of the awful thing of
plunging a fellow creature from the top of a cliff into the
dark and misty void below-of his being dashed to
pieces on the protruding rocks, and of hearing his shrieks
as he descended the cloud, and beheld the shagged
points on which he was to alight. Then I thought of
plunging a soul so abruptly into hell, or, at the best,
sending it to hover on the confines of that burning abyss
-of its appearance at the bar of the Almighty to receive
its sentence. And then I thought, “ Will there not be a
sentence pronounced against me there, by a jury of the
just made perfect, and written down in the registers of
heaven ?”
These thoughts, I say, came upon me unasked, and
instead of being able to dispel them, they mustered, upon
the summit of my imagination, in thicker and stronger
array: and there was another that impressed me in a
very particular manner, though, I have reason to believe,
not so strongly as those above written. It was this :
“ What if I should fail in my first effort ? Will the
consequence not be that I am tumbled from the top of
the rock myself ?” and then all the feelings anticipated,
with regard to both body and soul, must happen to me!
This was a spine-breaking reflection; and yet, though
the probability was rather on that side, my zeal in the
cause of godliness was such that carried me on, maugre
all danger and dismay.
I soon came close upon my broiher, sitting on the
dizzy pinnacle, with his eyes fixed stedfastly in the di.
rection opposite to me. I descended the little green


136
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ravine behind him with my feet foremost, and every now
and then raised my head, and watched his motions. His
posture continued the same, until at last I came so near
him I could have heard him breathe, if his face had been
towards me. I laid my cap aside, and made me ready to
spring upon him, and push him over. I could not for
my life accomplish it! I do not think it was that I durat
not, for I have always felt my courage equal to any thing
in a good cause. But I had not the heart, or something
that I ought to have had. In short, it was not done in
time, as it easily might have been. These THOUGHTY
are hard enemies wherewith to combat! And I was so
grieved that I could not effect my righteous purpose,
that I laid me down on my face and shed tears. Then,
again, I thought of what my great enlightened friend and
patron would say to me, and again my resolution rose
indignant, and indissoluble save by blood. I arose on
my right knee and left foot, and had just begun to ad.
vance the latter forward : the next step my great purpose
had been accomplished, and the culprit had suffered the
punishment due to his crimes. But what moved him I
knew not : in the critical moment he sprung to his feet,
and dashing himself furiously against me, he overthrew
me, at the imminent peril of my life. I disencumbered
myself by main force, and fled, but he overhied me,
knocked me down, and threatened, with dreadful oaths,
to throw me from the cliff. After I was a little recover.
ed from the stunning blow, I aroused myself to the com-
bat ; and though I do not recollect the circumstances of
that deadly scuffle very minutely, I know that I van.
quished him so far as to force him to ask my pardon, and
crave a reconciliation. I spurned at both, and left him
to the chastisements of his own wicked and corrupt heart.
My friend met me again on the hill, and derided me,
in a haughty and stern manner, for my imbecility and
want of decision. I told him how nearly I had effected
my purpose, and excused myself as well as I was able.
On this, seeing me bleeding, he advised me to swear the
peace against my brother, and have him punished in the


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
137
mean time, he being the first aggressor. I promised
compliance, and we parted, for I was somewhat ashamed
of my failure, and was glad to be quit for the present of
one of whom I stood so much in awe.
When my reverend father beheld me bleeding a se-
cond time by the hand of a brother, he was moved to the
highest point of displeasure; and relying on his high in-
terest and the justice of his cause, he brought the matter
at once before the courts. My brother and I were first
examined face to face. His declaration was a mere ro-
mance : mine was not the truth; but as it was by the ad-
vice of my reverend father, and that of my illustrious
friend, that I gave it, I conceived myself completely justi-
fied on that score. I said, I had gone up into the
mountain early on the morning to pray, and had with-
drawn myself, for entire privacy, into a little sequestered
dell—had laid aside my cap, and was in the act of kneel.
ing, when I was rudely attacked by my brother, knocked
over, and nearly slain. They asked my brother if this
was true. He acknowledged that it was; that I was
bare-headed, and in the act of kneeling when he ran foul
of me without any intent of doing so. But the judge
took him to task on the improbability of this, and put the
profligate sore out of countenance. The rest of his tale
told still worse, insomuch that he was laughed at by all
present, for the judge remarked to him, that granting it
was true that he had at first run against me on an open
mountain, and overthrown me by accident, how was it,
that after I had extricated myself and fled, that he had
pursued, overtaken, and knocked me down a second time?
Would he pretend that all that was likewise by chance ?
The culprit had nothing to say for himself on this head,
and I shall not forget my exultation and that of my reve.
rend father, when the sentence of the judge was delivered.
It was, that my wicked brother should be thrown into
prison, and tried on a criminal charge of assault and
battery, with the intent of committing murder. This
was a just and righteous judge, and saw things in their
proper bearings, that is, he could discern between a
V.
M


138
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
righteous and a wicked man, and then there could be no
doubt as to which of the two were acting right, and
which wrong.
My time was now much occupied, along with my re-
verend perceptor, in making ready for the approaching
trial, as the prosecutors. Our counsel assured us of a
complete victory, and that banishment would be the
mildest award of the law on the offender. Mark how
different was the result! From the shifts and ambigu-
ities of a wicked Bench, who had a fellow-feeling of ini.
quity with the defenders ---my suit was cast, the graceless
libertine was absolved, and I was incarcerated, and bound
over to keep the peace, with heavy penalties, before I
was set at liberty.
I was exceedingly disgusted at this issue, and blamed
the counsel of my friend to his face. He expressed great
grief, and expatiated on the wickedness of our judicato.
ries, adding, “ I see I cannot depend on you for quick
and summary measures, but for your sake I shall be re-
venged on that wicked judge, and that you shall see in a
few days.” The Lord Justice Clerk died that same
week! But he died in his own house and his own bed,
and by what means my friend effected it, I do not know.
He would not tell me a single word of the matter, but
the judge's sudden death made a great noise, and I made
so many curious inquiries regarding the particulars of it,
that some suspicions were like to attach to our family, of
some unfair means used. For my part I know nothing,
and rather think he died by the visitation of Heaven, and
that my friend had foreseen it, by symptoms, and soothed
me by promises of complete revenge.
It was some days before he mentioned my brother's
meditated death to me again, and certainly he then found
me exasperated against him personally to the highest de-
gree. But I told him that I could not now think any
more of it, owing to the late judgment of the court, by
which, if my brother were missing or found dead, I would
not only forfeit my life, but my friends would be ruined
by the penalties.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
139
“I suppose you know and believe in the perfect safety
of your soul,” said he.
“I believe in it thoroughly and perfectly,” said I ; "and
whenever I entertain doubts of it, I am sensible of sin
and weakness."
" Very well, so then am I,” said he. “I think I can
now divine, with all manner of certainty, what will be the
high and merited guerdon of your immortal part. Hear
me then farther: I give you my solemn assurance, and
bond of blood, that no human hand shall ever henceforth
be able to injure your life, or shed one drop of your pre-
cious blood, but it is on the condition that you walk al.
ways by my directions."
“ I will do so with cheerfulness,” said I; “ for without
your enlightened counsel, I feel that I can do nothing.
But as to your power of protecting my life, you must ex-
cuse me for doubting of it. Nay, were we in your own
proper dominions, you could not ensure that.”
“In whatever dominion or land I am, my power ac-
companies me,” said he ; " and it is only against human
might and human weapon that I ensure your life; on
that will I keep an eye, and on that you may depend.
I have never broken word or promise with you. Do
you credit me ?"
“ Yes, I do," said I; “for I see you are in earnest.
I believe, though I do not comprehend you.”
“ Then why do you not at once challenge your bro-
ther to the field of honour ? Seeing you now act with-
out danger, cannot you also act without fear ?".
“ It is not fear," returned I ; " believe me, I hardly
know what fear is. It is a doubt, that on all these emer-
gencies constantly haunts my mind, that in performing
such and such actions I may fall from my upright state.
This makes fratricide a fearful task.”
“ This is imbecility itself,” said he..“ We have set.
tled, and agreed on that point an hundred times. I
would therefore advise that you challenge your brother
to single coinbat. I shall ensure your safety, and he
cannot refuse giving you satisfaction."


140
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“ But then the penalties ?" said I.
“ We will try to evade these," said he; “and sup.
posing you should be caught, if once you are Laird of
Dalcastle and Balgrennan, what are the penalties to you?"
“ Might we not rather pop him off in private and
quietness, as we did the deistical divine ?" said I.
“ The deed would be alike meritorious, either way,"
said he. “But may we not wait for years before we
find an opportunity ? My advice is to challenge him, as
privately as you will, and there cut him off.” :
“So be it then," said I. " When the moon is at the
full, I will send for him forth to speak with one, and
there will I smite him and slay him, and he shall trouble
the righteous no more.”
“ Then this is the very night," said he. “The moon
is nigh to the full, and this night your brother and his
sinful mates hold carousal; for there is an intended jour-
ney to-morrow. The exulting profligate leaves town,
where he must remain till the time of my departure
hence; and then is he safe, and must live to dishonour
God, and not only destroy his own soul, but those of
many others. Alack, and wo is me! The sins that he
and his friends will commit this very night, will cry to
heaven against us for our shameful delay! When shall
our great work of cleansing the sanctuary be finished, if
we proceed at this puny rate ?"
“ I see the deed must be done, then," said I; "and
since it is so, it shall be done. I will arm myself forth-
with, and from the midst of his wine and debauchery you
shall call him forth to me, and there will I smite him with
the edge of the sword, that our great work be not retarded.”
“ If thy execution were equal to thy intent, how
great a man you soon might be!" said he. “ We shall
make the attempt once more ; and if it fail again, why,
I must use other means to bring about my high purposes
relating to mankind.--Home and make ready. I will go
and procure what information I can regarding their mo-
tions, and will meet you in disguise twenty minutes
hence, at the first turn of Hewie's lane beyond the loch."


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
141
“I have nothing to make ready," said I; “for I do
not choose to go home. Bring me a sword, that we may
consecrate it with prayer and vows, and if I use it not
to the bringing down of the wicked and profane, then
may the Lord do so to me, and more also !”
We parted, and there was I left again to the multipli.
city of my own thoughts for the space of twenty minutes, a
thing my friend never failed in subjecting me to, and these
were worse to contend with than hosts of sinful men. I
prayed inwardly, that these deeds of mine might never
be brought to the knowledge of men who were incapable
of appreciating the high motives that led to them; and
then I sung part of the 10th Psalm, likewise in spirit;
but for all these efforts, my sinful doubts returned, so
that when my illustrious friend joined me, and proffered
me the choice of two gilded rapiers, I declined accepting
any of them, and began, in a very bold and energetic
manner, to express my doubts regarding the justification
of all the deeds of perfect men. He chided me severe-
ly, and branded me with cowardice, a thing that my
nature never was subject to; and then he branded me
with falsehood, and breach of the most solemn engage-
ments.
I was compelled to take the rapier, much against my in-
clination ; but for all the arguments, threats, and promises
that he could use, I would not consent to send a chal-
lenge to my brother by his mouth. There was one argu-
ment only that he made use of which had some weight
with me, but yet it would not preponderate. He told
me my brother was gone to a notorious and scandalous
habitation of women, and that if I left him to himself
for ever so short a space longer, it might embitter his
state through ages to come. This was a trying concern
to me; but I resisted it, and reverted to my doubts.
On this he said that he had meant to do me honour, but
since I put it out of his power, he would do the deed,
and the responsibility on himself. “I have with sore
travail procured a guardship of your life," added he. “For
my own, I have not; but, be that as it will, I shall not
M 2


142
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
be baffled in my attempts to benefit my friends without
a trial. You will at all events accompany me, and see
that I get justice ?"
“ Certes, I will do thus much," said I; “and wo be
to him if his arm prevail against my friend and patron!"
His lip curled with a smile of contempt, which I could
hardly brook; and I began to be afraid that the eminence
to which I had been destined by him was already fading
from my view. And I thought what I should then do to
ingratiate myself again with him, for without his coun-
tenance I had no life. “ I will be a man in act," thought
I, “but in sentiment I will not yield, and for this he
must surely admire me the more.”
As we emerged from the shadowy lane into the fair
moonshine, I started so that my whole frame underwent
the most chilling vibrations of surprise. I again thought
I had been taken at unawares, and was conversing with
another person. My friend was equipped in the High-
land garb, and so completely translated into another be-
ing, that, save by his speech, all the senses of mankind
could not have recognized him. I blessed myself, and
asked whom it was his pleasure to personify to-night?
He answered me carelessly, that it was a spark whom he
meant should bear the blame of whatever might fall out
to-night; and that was all that passed on the subject.
We proceeded by some stone steps at the foot of the
North Loch, in hot argument all the way. I was afraid
that our conversation might be overheard, for the night
was calm and almost as light as day, and we saw sundry
people crossing us as we advanced. But the zeal of my
friend was so high, that he disregarded all danger, and
continued to argue fiercely and loudly on my delinquency,
as he was pleased to call it. I stood on one argument
alone, which was, “that I did not think the Scripture
promises to the elect, taken in their utmost latitude, war-
ranted the assurance that they could do no wrong; and
that, therefore, it behoved every man to look well to his
steps."
· There was no religious scruple that irritated my en-


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
143
lightened friend and master so much as this. He could
not endure it. He lost all patience on hearing what I
advanced on this matter, and taking hold of me, he led
me into a darksome booth in a confined entry; and, after
a friendly but cutting reproach, he bade me remain there
in secret and watch the event; "and if I fall,” said he,
“ you will not fail to avenge my death?"
I was so entirely overcome with vexation that I could
make no answer, on which he left me abruptly, a prey to
despair; and I saw or heard no more, till he came down
to the moonlight green followed by my brother. They
had quarrelled before they came within my hearing, for
the first words I heard were those of my brother, who was
in a state of intoxication, and he was urging a reconcili-
ation, as was his wont on such occasions. My friend
spurned at the suggestion, and dared him to the combat ;
and after a good deal of boastful altercation, which the
turmoil of my spirits prevented me from remembering,
my brother was compelled to draw his sword and stand
on the defensive. It was a desperate and terrible en-
gagement. I at first thought that the royal stranger and
great champion of the faith would overcome his opponent
with ease, for I considered heaven as on his side, and
nothing but the arm of sinful flesh against him. But I
was deceived: the sinner stood firm as a rock, while
the assailant flitted about like a shadow, or rather like a
spirit. I smiled inwardly, conceiving that these light-
some manœuvres were all a sham to show off his art and
mastership in the exercise, and that whenever they came
to close fairly, that instant my brother would be over-
come. Still I was deceived: my brother's arm seemed
invincible, so that the closer they fought the more palpa-
bly did it prevail. They fought round the green to the
very edge of the water, and so round, till they came close
up to the covert where I stood. There being no more
room to shift ground, my brother then forced him to
come to close quarters, on which, the former still having
the decided advantage, my friend quitted his sword, and
called out. I could resist no longer: so, springing from


144
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
my concealment, I rushed between them with my sword
drawn, and parted them as if they had been two school.
boys ; then turning to my brother, I addressed him as
follows:--" Wretch ! miscreant ! knowest thou what
thou art attempting ? Turn thee to me, that I may
chastise thee for all thy wickedness, and not for the
many injuries thou hast done to me!" To it we went,
with full thirst of vengeance on every side. The duel
was fierce ; but the might of heaven prevailed, and not
my might. The ungodly and reprobate young man fell,
covered with wounds, and with curses and blasphemy in
his mouth, while I escaped uninjured. Thereto his
power extended not.
I will not deny, that my own immediate impressions
of this affair in some degree differed from this statement.
But this is precisely as my illustrious friend described it
to me afterwards, and I can rely implicitly on his infor-
mation, as he was at that time a looker-on, and my senses
all in a state of agitation, and he could have no motive
for saying what was not the positive truth.
Never till my brother was down did we perceive that
there had been witnesses to the whole business. Our
ears were then astounded by rude challenges of unfair
play, which were quite appalling to me; but my friend
laughed at them, and conducted me off in perfect safety.
As to the unfairness of the transaction, I can say thus
much, that my royal friend's sword was down ere ever
mine was presented. But if it still be accounted unfair
to take up a conqueror, and punish him in his own way,
I answer : that if a man is sent on a positive mission by
· his master, and hath laid himself under vows to do his
work, he ought not to be too nice in the means of ac-
complishing it.
I was greatly disturbed in my mind for many days,
knowing that the transaction had been witnessed, and
sensible also of the perilous situation I occupied, owing
to the late judgment of the court against me. But, on
the contrary, I never saw my enlightened friend in such
high spirits. He assured me there was no danger; and


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
145
again repeated, that he warranted my life against the
power of man. I thought proper, however, to remain
in hiding for a week; but as he said, to my utter
amazement, the blame fell on another, who was not
only accused, but pronounced guilty by the general
voice, and outlawed for non-appearance ! how could I
doubt, after this, that the hand of heaven was aiding and
abetting me? The matter was beyond my comprehen-
sion; and as for my friend, he never explained any thing
that was past, but his activity and art were without a
parallel.
He enjoyed our success mightily; and for his sake I
enjoyed it somewhat, but it was on account of his
comfort only, for I could not for my life perceive in what
degree the church was better or purer than before these
deeds were done. He continued to flatter me with great
things, as to honours, fame, and emolument: and above
all, with the blessing and protection of him to whom my
soul and body were dedicated. But after these high
promises, I got no longer peace; for he began to urge
the death of my father with such an unremitting earnest-
ness, that I found I had nothing for it but to comply.
I did so; and cannot express his enthusiasm of approba-
tion. So much did he hurry and press me in this, that
I was forced to devise some of the most openly violent
measures, having no alternative. Heaven spared me the
deed, taking, in that instance, the vengeance in its own
hand; for before my arm could effect the sanguine but
ineritorious act, the old man followed his son to the grave.
My illustrious and zealous friend seemed to regret this
somewhat; but he comforted himself with the reflection,
that still I had the merit of it, having not only consent-
ed to it, but in fact effected it, for by doing the one ac-
tion I had brought about both.
No sooner were the obsequies of the funeral over,
than my friend and I went to Dalcastle, and took undis.
puted possession of the houses, lands, and effects that
had been my father's; but his plate, and vast treasures
of ready money, he had bestowed on a voluptuous and


146
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
unworthy creature, who had lived long with him as a
mistress. Fain would I have sent her after her lover,
and gave my friend some hints on the occasion; but he
only shook his head, and said that we must lay all sel-
fish and interested motives out of the question.
For a long time when I awaked in the morning, I
could not believe my senses, that I was indeed the un-
disputed and sole proprietor of so much wealth and gran-
deur; and I felt so much gratified, that I immediately
set about doing all the good I was able, hoping to
meet with all approbation and encouragement from my
friend. I was mistaken: he checked the very first in-
pulses towards such a procedure, questioned my motives,
and uniformly made them out to be wrong. There was
one morning that a servant said to me, there was a lady
in the back chamber who wanted to speak with me, but
he could not tell me who it was, for all the old servants
had left the mansion, every one on hearing of the death
of the late laird, and those who had come knew none of
the people in the neighbourhood. From several circum.
stances I had suspicions of private confabulations with
women, and refused to go to her, but bid the servant in.
quire what she wanted. She would not tell; she could
only state the circumstance to me ; so I, being sensible
that a little dignity of manner became me in my elevated
situation, returned for answer, that if it was business that
could not be transacted by my steward, it must remain
untransacted. The answer which the servant brought
back was of a threatening nature. She stated that she
must see me, and if I refused her satisfaction there, she
would compel it where I should not evite her.
My friend and director appeared pleased with my di.
lemma, and rather advised that I should hear what the
woman had to say ; on which I consented, provided she
would deliver her mission in his presence. · She came in
with manifest signs of anger and indignation, and began
with a bold and direct charge against me of a shameful
assault on one of her daughters; of having used the bas-
est of means in order to lead her aside from the paths of


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
147
rectitude; and on the failure of these, of having resorted
to the most unqualified measures.
I denied the charge in all its bearings, assuring the
dame that I had never so much as seen either of her
daughters to my knowledge, far less wronged them; on
which she got into great wrath, and abused me to my
face as an accomplished vagabond, hypocrite, and sensual-
ist; and she went so far as to tell me roundly, that if I
did not marry her daughter, she would bring me to the
gallows, and that in a very short time.
“Marry your daughter, honest woman !” said I “on
the faith of a Christian, I never saw your daughter; and
you may rest assured in this, that I will neither marry
you nor her. Do you consider how short a time I have
been in this place ? How much that time has been oc.
cupied ? And how there was even a possibility that I
could have accomplished such villanies?” .
“ And how long does your Christian reverence suppose
you have remained in this place since the late laird's
death ?" said she.
" That is too well known to need recapitulation," said
I:“ only a very few days, though I cannot at present
specify the exact number; perhaps from thirty to forty,
or so. But in all that time, certes, I have never seen
either you or any of your two daughters that you talk of,
You must be quite sensible of that."
My friend shook his head three times during this short
sentence, while the woman held up her hands in amaze-
ment and disgust, exclaiming, “ There goes the self-right-
eous one? There goes the consecrated youth, who
cannot err! You, sir, know, and the world shall know
of the faith that is in this most just, devout, and religious
miscreant! Can you deny that you have already been
in this place four months and seven days ? Or that in
that time you have been forbid my house twenty times ?
Or that you have persevered in your endeavours to effect
the basest and most ungenerous of purposes ? Or that
you have attained them ? hypocrite and deceiver as you
are ! Yes, sir ; I say, dare you deny that you have


148
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
attained your vile, selfish, and degrading purposes towards
a young, innocent, and unsuspecting creature, and thereby
ruined a poor widow's only hope in this world? No,
you cannot look in my face, and deny aught of this.”
“ The woman is raving mad !" said I. “You, illus-
trious sir, know, that in the first instance, I have not yet
been in this place one month.” My friend shook his
head again, and answered me, “ You are wrong, my
dear friend; you are wrong. It is indeed the space of
time that the lady hath stated, to a day, since you came
here, and I came with you; and I am sorry that I know
for certain that you have been frequently haunting her
house, and have often had private correspondence with
one of the young ladies too. Of the nature of it I pre-
sume not to know.”
“ You are mocking me," said I. “But as well may
you try to reason me out of my existence, as to convince
me that I have been here even one month, or that any
of those things you allege against me has the shadow
of truth or evidence to support it. I will swear to you
by-
"Hold, you most abandoned profligate !" cried she
violently, “and do not add perjury to your other detes-
table crimes. But tell me what reparation you propose
offering to my injured child ?"
“I again declare, before heaven, woman, that to the
best of my knowledge and recollection, I never saw your
daughter. I now think I have some faint recollection of
having seen your face, but where, or in what place, puz-
zles me quite."
“ And, why?" said she. “ Because for months and
days you have been in such a state of extreme inebriety,
that your time has gone over like a dream that has been
forgotten. I believe, that from the day you came first
to my house, you have been in a state of utter delirium,
and that principally from the fumes of wine and ardent
spirits."
“ It is a manifest falsehood !” said I; “I have never,
since I entered on the possession of Dalcastle, tasted wine


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
149
or spirits, saving once, a few evenings ago ; and, I confess
to my shame that I was led too far ; but I have craved
forgiveness and obtained it. I take my noble and dis-
tinguished friend there for a witness to the truth of what I
assert; a man who has done more, and sacrificed more
for the sake of genuine Christianity, than any this world
contains. Him you will believe."
" I hope you have attained forgiveness," said he, seri-
ously. “Indeed it would be next to blasphemy to doubt
it. But, of late, you have been very much addicted to
intemperance. I doubt if, from the first night you tasted
the delights of drunkenness, that you have ever again
been in your right mind until Monday last. Doubtless
you have been for a good while most diligent in your
addresses to this lady's daughter."
“ This is unaccountable,” said I. “ It is impossible
that I can have been doing a thing, and not doing it at
the same time. But indeed, honest woman, there have
several incidents occurred to me in the course of my life
which persuade me I have a second self; or that there
is some other being who appears in my likeness."
Here my friend interrupted me with a sneer, and a
hint that I was talking insanely; and then he added,
turning to the lady, “ I know my friend Mr Colwan will
do what is just and right. Go and bring the young lady
to him, that he may see her, and he will then recollect all
his former amours with her.”
“I humbly beg your pardon, sir,” said I. " But the
mention of such a thing as amours with any woman ex-
isting, to me, is really so absurd, so far from my princi-
ples, so far from the purity of nature and frame to which
I was born and consecrated, that I hold it as an insult,
and regard it with contempt."
I would have said more in reprobation of such an idea,
had not my servant entered, and said, that a gentleman
wanted to see me on business. Being glad of an oppor-
tunity of getting quit of my lady visitor, I ordered the
servant to show him in ; and forthwith a little lean gen-
tleman, with a long aquiline nose, and a bald head.
v.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
151
“ What business of mine, if it be your will, sir," said
I. “ For my part I never engaged you in business of
any sort, less or more.” He never regarded me, but
went on. “ You may appeal, though : Yes, yes, there
are such things as appeals for the refractory. Here it is,
gentlemen,-here they are altogether — Here is, in the
first place, sir, your power of attorney, regularly warrant-
ed, sealed, and signed with your own hand."
“I declare solemnly that I never signed that docu-
ment,” said I. .
“Ay, ay, the system of denial is not a bad one in
general," said my attorney ; “but at present there is no
occasion for it. You do not deny your own hand!”
"I deny every thing connected with the business,"
eried I; “ I disclaim it in toto, and declare that I know
no more about it than the child unborn.”
“ That is exceedingly good !” exclaimed he; “I like
your pertinacity vastly! I have three of your letters,
and three of your signatures; that part is all settled, and
I hope so is the whole affair ; for here is the original grant
to your father, which he has never thought proper to put
in requisition. Simple gentleman ! But here have I,
Lawyer Linkum, in one hundredth part of the time that
any other notary, writer, attorney, or writer to the signet
in Britain, would have done it, procured the signature of
his Majesty's commissioner, and thereby confirmed the
charter to you and your house, sir, for ever and ever,
begging your pardon, madam.” The lady, as well as
myself, tried several times to interrupt the loquacity of
Linkum, but in vain : he only raised his hand with a quick
flourish, and went on :-
“ Here it is :- James, by the grace of God, King of
Great Britain, France, and Ireland, to his right trusty
cousin, sendeth greeting: And whereas his right leal
and trust-worthy cousin, George Colwan of Dalcastle and
Balgrennan, hath suffered great losses, and undergone
much hardship, on behalf of his Majesty's rights and
titles; he therefore, for himself, and as prince and steward
of Scotland, and by the consent of his right trusty cousins


152
„PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND .
and councillors, hereby grants to the said George Colwan,
his heirs and assignees whatsomever, heritably and irre-
vocably, all and haill the lands and others, underwritten :
To wit, All and haill, the five merk land of Kipplerig ;
the five pound land of Easter Knockward, with all the
towers, fortalices, manor-places, houses, biggings, yards,
orchards, tofts, crofts, mills, woods, fishings, mosses,
muirs, meadows, commonties, pasturages, coals, coal-
heughs; tenants, tenantries, services of free tenants,
annexes, connexes, dependencies, parts, pendicles, and
pertinents of the same whatsomever ; to be peaceably
brooked, joysed, set, used, and disposed of by him and
his aboves, as specified, heritably and irrevocably, in all
time coming :. And, in testimony thereof, His Majesty,
for himself, and as prince and steward of Scotland, with
the advice and consent of his foresaids, knowledge, proper
motive, and kingly power, makes, erects, creates, unites,
annexes, and incorporates, the whole lands above men-
tioned in an haill and free barony, by all the rights,
miethes, and marches thereof, old and divided, as the
same lies, in length and breadth, in houses, biggings,
mills, multures, hawking, hunting, fishing ; with court,
plaint, herezeld, fock, fork, sack, sock, thole, thame, vert,
wraik, waith, wair, venision, outfang thief, infang thief,
pit and gallows, and all and sundry other commodities.
Given at our Court of Whitehall, &c. &c. God save the
King.
Compositio 5 lib. 13. 8.
* Registrate 26th Septemper, 1687.
“ See, madam, here are ten signatures of privy coun.
cillors of that year, and here are other ten of the present
vear, with his Grace the Duke of Queensberry at the
head. All right; See here it is, sir, all right-done
your work. So you see, madam, this gentleman is the
true and sole heritor of all the land that your father
possesses, with all the rents thereof for the last twenty
years, and upwards.----Fine job for my employers !--sorry
on your account, madam--cant help it.'


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
153
. I was again going to disclaim ail interest or connexion
in the matter, but my friend stopped me; and the plaints
and lamentations of the dame became so overpowering,
that they put an end to all farther colloquy ; but Law.
yer Linkum followed me, and stated his great outlay,
and the important services he had rendered me, until I
was obliged to subscribe an order to him for £100 on
my banker.
I was now glad to retire with my friend, and ask ser.
iously for some explanation of all this. It was in the
highest degree unsatisfactory. He confirmed all that
had been stated to me; assuring me, that I had not only
been assiduous in my endeavours to seduce a young lady
of great beauty, which it seemed I had effected, but that
I had taken counsel, and got this supposed, old, false,
and forged grant, raked up and new signed, to ruin the
young lady's family quite, so as to throw her entirely on
myself for protection, and be wholly at my will.
This was to me wholly incomprehensible. I could
have freely made oath to the contrary of every particu-
lar. Yet the evidences were against me, and of a na.
ture not to be denied. Here I must confess, that, highly
as I disapproved of the love of women, and all intimacies
and connexions with the sex, I felt a sort of indefinite
pleasure, an ungracious delight in having a beautiful
woman solely at my disposal. But I thought of her
spiritual good in the meantime. My friend spoke of my
backslidings with concern; requesting me to make sure
of my forgiveness, and to forsake them; and then he
added some words of sweet comfort. But from this time
forth I began to be sick at times of my existence. I had
heart-burnings, longings, and yearnings, that would not
be satisfied; and I seemed hardly to be an accountable
creature; being thus in the habit of executing transac-
tions of the utmost moment, without being sensible that
I did them. I was a being incomprehensible to myself.
Either I had a second, self, who transacted business in
my likeness, or else my body was at times possessed by
à spirit over which it had no control, and of whose
N 2


154
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
actions my own soul was wholly unconscious. This was
an anomaly not to be accounted for by any philosophy
of mine; and I was many times, in contemplating it, ex,
cited to terrors and mental torments hardly describable.
To be in a state of consciousness and unconsciousness,
at the same time, in the same body and same spirit, was
impossible. I was under the greatest anxiety, dreading
some change would take place momently in my nature;
for of dates I could make nothing: one-half, or two-thirds
of my time, seemed to me to be totally lost. I often,
about this time, prayed with great fervour, and lamented
my hopeless condition, especially in being liable to the
commission of crimes, which I was not sensible of, and
could not eschew. And I confess, notwithstanding the
promises on which I had been taught to rely, I began to
have secret terrors, that the great enemy of man's salva-
tion was exercising powers over me, that might eventual-
ly lead to my ruin. These were but temporary and sin-
ful fears, but they added greatly to my unhappiness.
The worst thing of all was, what hitherto I had never
felt, and, as yet, durst not confess to myself, that the
presence of my illustrious and devoted friend was becom-
ing irksome to me. When I was by myself, I breathed
freer, and my step was lighter ; but, when he approach-
ed, a pang went to my heart; and, in his company, I
moved and acted as if under a load that I could hardly
endure. What a state. to be in ! And yet to shake him
off was impossible,-we were incorporated together-
identified with one another, as it were, and the power
was not in me to separate myself from him. I still
knew nothing who he was, farther than that he was a
potentate of some foreign land, bent on establishing some
pure and genuine doctrines of Christianity, hitherto only
half understood, and less than half exercised. Of this
I could have no doubts, after all that he had said, done,
and suffered in the cause. But, alongst with this, I was
also certain, that he was possessed of some supernatural
power, of the source of which I was wholly ignorant.
That a man could be a Christian, and at the same time


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
155
a powerful necromancer, appeared inconsistent, and ad-
verse to every principle taught in our church; and from
this I was led to believe, that he inherited his powers
from on high, for I could not doubt either of the sound.
ness of his principles, or that he accomplished things im-
possible to account for.
Thus was I sojourning in the midst of a chaos of con-
fusion. I looked back on my bypast life with pain, as
one looks back on a perilous journey, in which he has
attained his end, without gaining any advantage either
to himself or others; and I looked forward, as on a dark-
some waste, full of repulsive and terrific shapes, pitfalls,
and precipices, to which there was no definite bourne,
and from which I turned with disgust. With my riches,
my unhappiness was increased tenfold; and here, with
another great acquisition of property, for which I had
pleaed, and which I had gained in a dream, my miseries
and difficulties were increasing. My principal feeling,
about this time, was an insatiable longing for something
that I cannot describe or denominate properly, unless I
say it was for utter oblivion that I longed. I desired to
sleep; but it was for a deeper and longer sleep, than that
in which the senses were nightly steeped. I longed to
be at rest and quiet, and close my eyes on the past and
the future alike, as far as this frail life was concerned.
But what had been formerly and finally settled in the
counsels above, I presumed not to call in question.
In this state of irritation and misery, was I dragging
on an existence, disgusted with all around me, and in
particular with my mother, who, with all her love and
anxiety, had such an insufferable mode of manifesting
them, that she had by this time rendered herself exceed-
ingly obnoxious to me. The very sound of her voice
at a distance, went to my heart like an arrow, and made
all my nerves to shrink; and as for the beautiful young
lady of whom they told me I had been so much en-
amoured, I shunned all intercourse with her or hers. I
read some of their letters and burnt them, but refused
to see either the young lady or her mother, on any account.


156
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
About this time it was, that my worthy and reverend
parent came with one of his elders to see my mother
and myself. His presence always brought joy with it
into our family, for my mother was uplifted, and I had
so few who cared for me, or for whom I cared, that I
felt rather gratified at seeing him. My illustrious friend
was also much more attached to him, than any other
person, (except myself,) for their religious principles tal-
lied in every point, and their conversation was interest-
ing, serious, and sublime. Being anxious to entertain
well and highly the man to whom I had been so much
indebted, and knowing that with all his integrity and
righteousness, he disdained not the good things of this
life, I brought from the late laird's well-stored cellars,
various fragrant and salubrious wines, and we drank and
became merry, and I found that my miseries and over-
powering calamities, passed away over my head like a
shower that is driven by the wind. I became elevated
and happy, and welcomed my guests an hundred times;
and then I joined them in religious conversation, with a
zeal and enthusiasm which I had not often experienced,
and which made all their hearts rejoice, so that I said to
myself, “Surely every gift of God is a blessing, and
ought to be used with liberality and thankfulness."
The next day I waked from a profound and feverish
sleep, and called for something to drink. There was a
servant answered whom I had never seen before, and he
was clad in my servant's clothes and livery. I asked for
Andrew Handyside, the servant who had waited at table
the night before ; but the man answered with a stare and
a smile.
“What do you mean, sirrah,” said I. “ Pray what
do you here? or what are you pleased to laugh at ? I
desire you to go about your business, and send me
up Handyside. I want him to bring me something to
drink.”
“ Ye sanna want a drink, maister,” said the fellow:
“ Tak a hearty ane, and see if it will wauken ye up some-
thing, sae that ye dinua ca' for ghaists through your


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
157
sleep. Surely ye haena forgotten that Andrew Handy-
side has been in his grave these six months ?”
· This was a stunning blow to me. I could not answer
farther, but sunk back on my pillow as if I had been a
lump of lead, refusing to take a drink or any thing else
at the fellow's hand, who seemed thus mocking me with
so grave a face. The man seemed sorry, and grieved at
my being offended, but I ordered him away, and con-
tinued sullen and thoughtful Could I have again been
for a season in utter oblivion to myself and transacting
business which I neither approyed of, nor had any con-
nexion with! I tried to recollect something in which I
might hạve been engaged, but nothing was portrayed on
my mind subsequent to the parting with my friends at a
late hour the evening before. The evening before it
certainly was; but if so, how came it, that Andrew
Handyside, who served at table that evening, should
have been in his grave six months! This was a circum-
stance somewhat equivocal; therefore, being afraid to
arise lest accusations of. I knew not what might come
against me, I was obliged to call once more in order to
come at what intelligence I could. The same fellow ap-
peared to receive my orders as before, and I set about
examining him with regard to particulars. He told
me, his name was Scrape; that I hired him myself; of
whom I hired him; and at whose recommendation. I
smiled, and nodded so as to let the knave see I under-
stood he was telling me a chain of falsehoods, but did
not choose to begin with any violent asseverations to the
contrary.
“And where is my noble friend and companion ?"
said I. « How has he been engaged in the interim ?"
"I dinna ken him, sir,” said Scrape ; but have heard
it said, that the strange mysterious person that attended
you, him that the maist part of folks countit uncanny,
had gane awa wi' a Mr Ringan o’ Glasgow last year, and
had never returned.”
:: I was pleased in my heart at this intelligence, hoping
that the illustrious stranger had returned to his own land


158
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
and people, and that I should thenceforth be rid of his
controlling and appalling presence. “And where is my
mother?" said I.-- The man's breath cut short, and he
looked at me without returning any answer.-—" I ask you
where my mother is ?" said I.
“God only knows, and not I, where she is,” returned
he. “He knows where her soul is, and as for her body,
if you dinna ken something o' it, I suppose nae man
alive does."
• What do you mean you knave ?” said I ; “what
dark hints are these you are throwing out ? Tell me
precisely and distinctly what you know of my inother ?"
“ It is unco queer o’ye to forget, or pretend to forget
every thing that gate, the day, sir,” said he. “ I'm sure
you heard enough about it yestreen; an' I can tell you,
there are some gayan ill-faured stories gaun about that
business. But as the thing is to be tried afore the circuit
lords, it wad be far wrang to say either this or that to in-
fluence the public mind; it is best just to let justice tak
its swee. I hae naething to say, sir. Ye hae been a
good enough maister to me, and paid my wages regularly,
but ye hae muckle need to be innocent, for there are
some heavy accusations rising against you."
“ I fear no accusations of man,” said I, “ as long as I
can justify my cause in the sight of Heaven ; and that I
can do this I am well aware. Go you and bring me some
wine and water, and some other clothes than these gaudy
and glaring ones."
- I took a cup of wine and water ; put on my black
clothes and walked out. For all the perplexity that sur-
rounded me, I felt my spirits considerably buoyant. It ap-
peared that I was rid of the two greatest bars to my happi-
ness, by what agency I knew not. My mother, it seemed,
was gone, who had become a grievous thorn in my side of
late, and my great companion and counsellor, who tyran.
nized over every spontaneous movement of my heart, had
likewise taken himself off. This last was an unspeakable
relief; for I found that for a long season I had only been
able to act by the motions of his mysterious mind and


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
159
spirit. I therefore strode through my woods with a
daring and heroic step; with independence in my eye,
and freedom swinging in my right hand.
At the extremity of the Colwan wood, I perceived a
figure approaching me with slow and dignified motion.
The moment, that I beheld it, my whole frame received
a shock as if the ground on which I walked had sunk
suddenly below me. Yet, at that moment, I knew not
who it was ; it was the air and motion of some one that
I dreaded, and from whom I would gladly have escaped ;
but this I even had not power to attempt. It came slowly
onward, and I advanced as slowly to meet it; yet when
we came within speech, I still knew not who it was. It
bore the figure, air, and features of my late brother, I
thought, exactly ; yet in all these there were traits so
forbidding, so mixed with an appearance of misery, chagrin
and despair, that I still shrunk from the view, not know-
ing on whose face I looked. But when the being spoke,
both my mental and bodily frame received another shock
more terrible than the first, for it was the voice of the
great personage I had so long denominated my friend, of
whom I had deemed myself for ever freed, and whose
presence and counsels I now dreaded. It was his voice,
but so altered—I shall never forget it till my dying day.
Nay, I can scarce conceive it possible that any earthly
sounds could be so discordant, so repulsive to every feel-
ing of a human soul, as the tones of the voice that grated
on my ear at that moment. They were the sounds of
the pit, wheezed through a grated cranny, or seemed so
to my distempered imagination.
"So ! Thou shudderest at my approach now, dost
thou?" said he, “ Is this all the gratitude that you deign
for an attachment of which the annals of the world fur-
nish no parallel ? An attachment which has caused
me to forego power and dominion, might, homage,
conquest and adulation, all that I might gain one highly
valued and sanctified spirit to my great and true princi-
ples of reformation among mankind. Wherein have I
offended? What have I done for evil, or what have I


160
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
not done for your good, that you would thus shun my
présence ?"
“ Great and magnificent prince," said I humbly, “let
me request of you to abandon a poor worthless wight to
his own wayward fortune, and return to the dominion of
your people. I am unworthy of the sacrifices you have
made for my sake ; and after all your efforts, I do not
feel that you have rendered me either more virtuous or
more happy. For the sake of that which is estimable in
human nature depart from me to your own home, before
you render me a being altogether above, or below the
rest of my fellow-creatures. Let me plod on towards
heaven and happiness in my own way, like those that
have gone before me, and I promise to stick fast by the
great principles which you have so strenuously inculcated,
on condition that you depart and leave me for ever."
“Sooner shall you make the mother abandon the child
of her bosom ; nay, sooner cause the shadow to relinquish
the substance, than separate me from your side. Our
beings are amalgamated, as it were, and consociated in
one, and never shall I depart from this country until I
can carry you in triumph with me.”
I can in nowise describe the effect this appalling speech
had on me. It was like the announcement of death to
one who had of late deemed himself free, if not of some.
thing worse than death, and of longer continuance. There
was I doomed to remain in misery, subjugated, soul and
body, to one whose presence was become more intolerable
to me than ought on earth could compensate. And at
that moment, when he beheld the anguish of my soul,
he could not conceal that he enjoyed it. I was troubled
for an answer, for which he was waiting: it became in-
cumbent on me to say something after such a protesta.
tion of attachment; and, in some degree to shake the
validity of it, I asked, with great simplicity, where he had
been all this while?
“ Your crimes and your extravagances forced me from
your side for a season," said he ; “but now that I hope
the day of grace is returned, I am again drawn towards


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
161
you by an affection that has neither bounds nor interest;
an affection for which I receive not even the poor return
of gratitude, and which seems to have its radical sources
in fascination. I have been far, far abroad, and have
seen much, and transacted much, since I last spoke with
you. During that space, I grievously suspect that you
have been guilty of great crimes and misdemeanours; but
as I knew it to be only a temporary falling off, I closed
my eyes on the wilful debasement of our principles,
knowing that in good time you would come to your
senses.”
“What crimes ?” said I ;“ what misdemeanours and
transgressions do you talk about ? For my part, I am
conscious of none, and am utterly amazed at insinuations
which I do not comprehend.”
“ You have certainly been left to yourself for a season,"
returned he," having gone on rather like a person in a
delirium, than a Christian in his sober senses. You are
accused of having made away with your mother privately;
as also of the death of a beautiful young lady, whose
affections you had seduced.”
“ It is an intolerable and monstrous falsehood !” cried
I, interrupting him; “I never laid a hand on a woman
to take away her life, and have even shunned their
society from my childhood; I know nothing of my
mother's exit, nor of that young lady's whom you men-
tion,—Nothing whatever.”
" I hope it is so," said he. “But it seems there are
some strong presumptuous proofs against you, and I came
to warn you this day that a precognition is in progress,
and that unless you are perfectly convinced, not only of
your innocence, but of your ability to prove it, it will be
the safest course for you to abscond, and let the trial go
on without you.”
“Never shall it be said that I shrunk from such a trial
as this,” said I. “ It would give grounds for suspicions
of guilt that never had existence, even in thought. I will
go and show myself in every public place, that no slander-
ous tongue may wag against me. I have shed the blood


162
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
of sinners, but of these deaths I am guiltless ; therefore,
I will face every tribunal, and put all my accusers down.”
“ Asseverations will avail you but little," answered he,
composedly: “it is however, justifiable in its place,
although to me it signifies nothing, who know too well
that you did commit both crimes, in your own person,
and with your own hands. Far be it from me to betray
you; indeed, I would rather endeavour to palliate the
offences."
“ If this that you tell me be true, said I, “ then is it
as true that I have two souls, which take possession of my
bodily frame by turns, the one being all unconscious of
what the other performs; for as sure as I have at this
moment a spirit within me, so sure am I utterly ignorant
of the crimes you now lay to my charge.”
“Your supposition may be true in effect,” said he.
“ We are all subjected to two distinct natures in the same
person. I myself have suffered grievously in that way.
The spirit that now directs my energies is not that with
which I was endowed at my creation. It is changed
within me, and so is my whole nature, My former days
were those of grandeur and felicity. But, would you be-
lieve it? I was not then a Christian. Now I am. I have
been converted to its truths by passing through the fire,
and since my final conversion, my misery has been ex-
treme. You complain that I have not been able to
render you more happy than you were. Alas ! do you
expect it in the difficult and exterminating career which
you have begun. I, however, promise you this—a por-
tion of the only happiness which I enjoy, sublime in its
motions, and splendid in its attainments—I will place
you on the right hand of my throne, and show you the
grandeur of my domains, and the felicity of my millions
of true professors."
I was once more humbled before this mighty potentate,
and promised to be ruled wholly by his directions, al-
though at that moment my nature shrunk from the con-
cessions, and my soul longed rather to be inclosed in the
depths of the sea, or involved once more in utter oblivion


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
163
I was like Daniel in the den of lions, without his faith
in divine support, and wholly at their mercy. I felt as
one round whose body a deadly snake is twisted, which
continues to hold him in its fangs, without injuring him,
farther than in moving its scaly infernal folds with exult-
ing delight, to let its victim feel to whose power he has
subjected himself; and thus did I for a space drag an
existence from day to day, in utter weariness and help-
lessness; at one time worshipping with great fervour of
spirit, and at other times so wholly left to myself,
as to work all manner of vices and follies with greedi-
ness. In these my enlightened friend never accompanied
me, but I always observed that he was the first to lead
me to every one of them, and then leave me in the
lurch.
But of all my troubles, this was the chief : I was every
day and every hour assailed with accusations of deeds of
which I was wholly ignorant; of acts of cruelty, injus-
tice, defamation, and deceit; of pieces of business which
I could not be made to comprehend ; with law-suits, de-
tails, arrestments of judgment, and a thousand intermin-
able quibbles from the mouth of my loquacious and con-
ceited attorney. So miserable was my life rendered by
these continued attacks, that I was often obliged to lock
myself up for days together, never seeing any person save
my man Samuel Scrape, who was a very honest blunt
fellow, a staunch Cameronian, but withal very little con-
versant in religious matters. He said he came from a
place called Penpunt, which I thought a name so ludi-
crous, that I called him by the name of his native vil.
lage, an appellation of which he was very proud, and
answered every thing with more civility and perspicuity
when I denominated him Penpunt, than Samuel, his own
Christian name. Of this peasant was I obliged to make
a companion on sundry occasions, and strange indeed
were the details which he gave me concerning myself,
and the ideas of the country people concerning me. I
took down a few of these in writing, to put off the time,
and here leave them on record to show how the best and


164
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
greatest actions are misconstrued among sinful and igno.
rant men.
“ You say, Samuel, that I hired you myself—that I
have been a good enough master to you, and have paid
you your weekly wages punctually. Now, how is it that
you say this, knowing, as you do, that I never hired you,
and never paid you a sixpence of wages in the whole
course of my life, excepting this last month?"
“ Ye may as weel say, master, that water's no water,
or that stanes are no stanes. But that's just your gate,
an' it is a great pity aye to do a thing an' profess the
clean contrair. Weel then, since you havena paid me
ony wages, an' I can prove day and date when I was
hired, an' came hame to your service, will you be sae
kind as to pay me now? That's the best way o' curing
a man o' the mortal disease o' leasing-making that I
ken o'."
“ I should think that Penpunt and Cameronian prin.
ciples, would not admit of a man taking twice payment
for the same article."
“ In sic a case as this, sir, it disna hinge upon prin.
ciples, but a piece o' good manners; as I canna bide to
make you out a leear, I'll thank you for my wages."
“ Well, you shall have them, Samuel, if you declare
to me that I hired you myself in this same person, and
bargained with you with this same tongue, and voice,
with which I speak to you just now.”
“ That I do declare, unless ye hae twa persons o' the
same appearance, and twa tongues to the same voice.
But, 'od saif us, sir, do you ken what the auld wives o'
the clachan say about you?"
“ How should I when no one repeats it to me?"
“Oo, I trow it's a' stuff ;-folk shouldna heed what's
said by auld crazy kimmers. But there are some o'
them weel kend for witches too; an' they say,_lord
have a care o' us!--they say the deil's often seen gaun
sidie for sidie w'ye, whiles in ae shape, an' whiles in an-
ither. An' they say that he whiles takes your ain shape,
or else enters into you, and then you turn deil yoursel.”


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
165
I was so astounded at this terrible idea that had gone
abroad, regarding my fellowship with the prince of dark-
ness, that I could make no answer to the fellow's infor.
mation, but sat like one in a stupor; and if it had not been
for my well-founded faith, I should at that moment have
given into the popular belief, and fallen into the sin of
despondency; but I was preserved from such a fatal er-
ror by an inward and unseen supporter. Still the in-
sinuation was so like what I felt myself, that I was great-
ly awed and confounded.
The poor fellow observed this, and tried to do away
the impression by some farther sage remarks of his own.
“ Hout, dear sir, it is balderdash, there's nae doubt o't.
It is the crownhead o' absurdity to tak in the havers o'
auld wives for gospel. I told them that my master was
a peeous man, an’ a sensible man; an' for praying, that
he could ding auld Macmillan himsel. “Sae could the
deil,' they said, when he liket, either at preaching or
praying, if these war to answer his ain ends. Na, na,'
says I, but he's a strick believer in a' the truths o’
Christianity, my master. They said, sae was Satan, for
that he was the firmest believer in a'the truths of Chris-
tianity that was out o' heaven ; an' that, sin’ the Revolu-
tion that the gospel had turned sae rife, he had been often
driven to the shift o' preaching it himsel', for the purpose
o'getting some wrang tenets introduced into it, and there.
by turning it into blasphemy and ridicule."
I confess, to my shame, that I was so overcome by
this jumble of nonsense, that a chillness came over me,
and in spite of all my efforts to shake off the impression
it had made, I fell into a faint. Samuel soon brought
me to myself, and after a deep draught of wine and
water, I was greatly revived, and felt my spirit rise above
the sphere of vulgar conceptions. The shrewd but lo-
quacious fellow, perceiving this, tried to make some
amends for the pain he had occasioned to me, by the fol-
lowing story, which I noted down, and which was brought
on by a conversation to the following purport :-
“Now, Penpunt, you may tell me all that passed be.
02


166
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
tween you and the wives of the clachan. I am better of
that stomach qualm, with which I am sometimes seized, and
shall be much amused by hearing the sentiments of noted
witches regarding myself and my connexions."
“ Weel, you see, sir, I says to them, “ It will be lang
afore the deil intermeddle wi' as serious a professor, and
as fervent a prayer as my master, for gin he gets the
hand o' sickan men, wha's to be safe ! An', what think
ye they said, sir ? There was ane Lucky Shaw set up
her lang lantern chafts, an' answered me, an' a' the rest
shanned and noddit in assent an' approbation : Ye silly,
sauchless, Cameronian cuif !' quo she, “is that a' that ye
ken about the wiles and doings o' the prince o' the air,
that rules an’ works in the bairns o' disobedience? Gin
ever he observes a proud professor, wha has mae than
ordinary pretensions to a divine calling, and that reads
and prays till the very howlets learn his preambles, that's
the man Auld Simmie fixes on to mak a dishclout o.' He
canna get rest if he sees a man, or a set of men o' this
stamp, an' when he sets fairly to wark, it is seldom that
he disna bring them round till his ain measures by hook
or by crook. Then, O it is a grand prize for him, an'a
proud deil he is, when he gangs hame to his ain ha', wi'
a batch o' the souls o'sic strenuous professors on his back.
Ay, I trow, auld Ingleby, the Liverpool packman, never
came up Glasgow street wi' prouder pomp, when he had
ten horse-laids afore him o' Flanders lace, an' Hollin
lawn, an' silks an' satins frae the eastern Indians, than
Satan wad strodge with a pack-lade o' the souls o' proud
professors on his braid shoulders. Ha, ha, ha! I think I
see how the auld thief wad be gaun through his gizened
dominions, crying his wares, in derision, · Wha will buy
a fresh, cauler divine, a bouzy bishop, a fasting zealot, or
a piping priest ? For a' their prayers an' their praises,
their aumuses, an' their penances, their whinings, their
howlings, their rantings, an' their ravings, here they come
at last! Behold the end ! Here go the rare and pre-
cious wares! A fat professor for a bodle, an' a lean ane
for half a merk !' I declare, I tremble at the auld hags


CONFESSIONS OF A F250
ravings, but the late o' the timmers zonauti tie ser". *
as sacred truths. An tien LICKT Want IPT ar
many wolves in sheep's ciansune BILINE 111 112.
mony deils aneata the mass 3 Imus I. TRAIL
ing about in kirks and neerre-Im t e Z1 21
whenever you are douai I 2 TIM.
Ruthven's plan, an deš i si Dari J. V t e
toing that winna veel jue: UL I
m
b
ane Wadna that oL is Filiuse VE TO 202. les
parsons gomb, the Ta Ve U
SA
blue bannet : bat ere sare si puu T_
detect it, an' te Jete Der il.
aiana gie me te ruen thu:
orten an often. status te m an se
ye will kes i vei. 21 I VuL * 1. MBE
on some o yo innot. That is tur tistest ku
certain gertama keen vaikne X VUL
wherever be sets dies tout, the gras siis I
scoudered wi a het ei.. press
What's the matter wi VOL muasie
bus
* VOL masier
the calm o' the stamce arall *'.
0234 V
an Li n k
The truth is, that tile CiUWI +2ubur
sick at heart a second. ime i wa 10 w
was tit Devi D
"*
di WHICL suure
suusate
a Badia
Llit blaue O * Welserien " * madje edhe
in ww. Uses de dokter
11. auc. wouet aw a y
Ewa iwas.
Dus
SU
my illustrious friend wat tiet DEVL ut !
of my own state, at wmie
always did, when the inays OBI *
ruler presented iseli na ww .
with my beart on this auc wuifutbe
that had the well-being of manual
be productive of fruits so w e bid
works by the Saviours uuel Il
put it into my hear to qui allt
would stand the test.. Bal buse
which I could not admit that all
mine; and I began to quant le
once more, not that ther welt
LIEL BC Dilie: Liscio
oral
uiuen a la l i te
GO ; aut benut Wadi W ako
de é bac busel.
au tuat any ksal, statistical vi i stre
al u Quuoi Lut ku *** di bata berbaycan
a tier welt unbeutvisa..? Welko w buindo
ar miut sec abila Di Cities show deles al D
his was some grea: mult
some overpowertig pasbiul.
He seemned tu completo
هدف از اراده او دا وه وه ماودها لإيلنا -


166
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
tween you and the wives of the clachan. I am better of
that stomach qualm, with which I am sometimes seized, and
shall be much amused by hearing the sentiments of noted
witches regarding myself and my connexions."
“ Weel, you see, sir, I says to them, “ It will be lang
afore the deil intermeddle wi' as serious a professor, and
as fervent a prayer as my master, for gin he gets the
hand o sickan men, wha's to be safe!' An', what think
ye they said, sir ? There was ane Lucky Shaw set up
her lang lantern chafts, an' answered me, an' a' the rest
shanned and noddit in assent an' approbation : *Ye silly,
sauchless, Cameronian cuif !' quo she, “is that a' that ye
ken about the wiles and doings o' the prince o' the air,
that rules an' works in the bairns o' disobedience ? Gin
ever he observes a proud professor, wha has mae than
ordinary pretensions to a divine calling, and that reads
and prays till the very howlets learn his preambles, that's
the man Auld Simmie fixes on to mak a dishclout o.' He
canna get rest if he sees a man, or a set of men o' this
stamp, an' when he sets fairly to wark, it is seldom that
he disna bring them round till his ain measures by hook
or by crook. Then, O it is a grand prize for him, an'a
proud deil he is, when he gangs hame to his ain ha', wi’
a batch o'the souls o'sic strenuous professors on his back.
Ay, I trow, auld Ingleby, the Liverpool packman, never
came up Glasgow street wi' prouder pomp, when he had
ten horse-laids afore him o' Flanders lace, an' Hollin
lawn, an' silks an' satins frae the eastern Indians, than
Satan wad strodge with a pack-lade o' the souls o' proud
professors on his braid shoulders. Ha, ha, ha! I think I
see how the auld thief wad be gaun through his gizened
dominions, crying his wares, in derision, "Wha will buy
a fresh, cauler divine, a bouzy bishop, a fasting zealot, or
a piping priest ? For a' their prayers an’ their praises,
their aumuses, an' their penances, their whinings, their
howlings, their rantings, an' their ravings, here they come
at last! Behold the end ! Here go the rare and pre-
cious wares! A fat professor for a bodle, an'a lean ane
for half a merk! I declare, I tremble at the auld hag's


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
167
ravings, but the lave oʻthe kimmers applauded the sayings
as sacred truths. An' then Lucky went on : *There are
many wolves in sheep's claithing, among us, my man ;
mony deils aneath the masks o' zealous professors, roam-
ing about in kirks and meeting-houses o’the land. An'
whenever you are doubtfu' of a man, take auld Robin
Ruthven's plan, an' look for the cloven foot, for it's a
thing that winna weel hide ; an' it appears whiles where
ane wadna think o't. It will keek out frae aneath the
parson's gown, the lawyer's wig, and the Cameronian's
blue bannet ; but still there is a gouden rule whereby to
detect it, an' that never, never fails.' --The auld witch
didna gie me the rule, an' though I hae heard tell o't
often an' often, shame fa’ me an I ken what it is ! But
ye will ken it well, an' it wad be nae the waur of a trial
on some o' your friends, maybe ; for they say there's a
certain gentleman seen walking wi' you whiles, that
wherever he sets his foot, the grass withers as gin it war
scoudered wi’ a het ern. His presence be about us !
What's the matter wi' you, master? Are ye gaun to take
the calm o' the stamock again ?"
The truth is, that the clown's absurd gossip made me
sick at heart a second time. It was not because I thought
my illustrious friend was the devil, but it gave me a view
of my own state, at which I shuddered, as indeed I now
always did, when the image of my devoted friend and
ruler presented itself to my mind. I often communed
with my heart on this, and wondered how a connexion,
that had the well-being of mankind solely in view, could
be productive of fruits so bitter. I then went to try my
works by the Saviour's golden rule, as my servant had
put it into my head to do ; and, behold, not one of them
would stand the test. I had shed blood on a ground on
which I could not admit that any man had a right to shed
mine ; and I began to doubt the motives of my adviser
once more, not that they were intentionally bad, but that
his was some great mind led astray by enthusiasm, or
some overpowering passion.
He seemed to comprehend every one of these motions


168
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
of my heart, for his manner towards me altered every
day. It first became any thing but agreeable, then
supercilious, and finally, intolerable ; so that I resolved
to shake to him off, cost what it would, even though I
should be reduced to beg my bread in a foreign land.
To do it at home was impossible as he held my life in his
hands, to sell it whenever he had a mind; and besides,
his ascendancy over me was as complete as that of a
huntsman over his dogs. I was even so weak, as, the
next time I met with him, to look steadfastly at his foot,
to see if it was cloven into two hoofs. It was the foot
of a gentleman, in every respect, so far as appearances
went, but the form of his counsels was somewhat equivo-
cal, and if not double, they were amazingly crooked.
But, if I had taken my measures to abscond and fly
from my native place, in order to free myself of this tor.
menting, intolerant, and bloody reformer, he had likewise
taken his to expel me, or throw me into the hands of
justice. It seems, that about this time, I was haunted by
some spies connected with my late father and brother, of
whom the mistress of the former was one. My brother's
death had been witnessed by two individuals ; indeed, I
always had an impression that it was witnessed by more
than one, having some faint recollection of hearing voices
and challenges close beside me ; and this woman had
searched about until she found these people ; but, as I
shrewdly suspected, not without the assistance of the
only person in my secret, my own warm and devoted
friend. I say this, because I found that he had them
concealed in the neighbourhood, and then took me again
and again where I was fully exposed to their view, with.
out being aware. One time in particular, on pretence
of gratifying my revenge on that base woman, he knew
so well where she lay concealed, that he led me to her,
and left me to the mercy of two viragos, who had very
nigh taken my life. My time of residence at Dalcastle
was wearing to a crisis. I could no longer live with my
tyrant, who haunted me like my shadow ; and besides, it
seems there were proofs of murder leading against me


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC,
169
from all quarters. Of part of these I deemed myself
quite free : but the world deemed otherwise ; and how
the matter would have ended, had the case undergone a
judicial trial, I cannot say. It perhaps, however, behoves
me here to relate all that I know of it, and it is simply this.
On the first of June 1712, (well may I remember the
day,) I was sitting locked in my secret chamber, in a state
of the utmost despondency, revolving in my mind what
I ought to do to be free of my persecutors, and wishing
myself a worm, or a moth, that I might be crushed and
at rest, when behold Samuel entered, with eyes like to
start out of his head, exclaiming, “For God's sake,
master, fly and hide yourself for your mother's found;
an' as sure as you're a living soul, the blame is gaun to
fa' on you!”
"My mother found !” said I, And pray, where has
she been all this while ?" In the mean time, I was
terribly discomposed at the thoughts of her return.
“ Been, sir? Been? Why, she has been where ye pat
her, it seems,-iying buried in the sands o’ the linn.
I can tell you, ye will see her a frightsome figure, sic as
I never wish to see again. An' the young lady is found
too, sir : an' it is said the devil - I beg pardon sir, your
friend, I mean,-it is said your friend has made the dis-
covery, an' the folk are away to raise officers, an' they
will be here in an hour or two at the farthest, sir ; an’
sae you hae not a minute to lose, for there's proof, sir,
strong proof, an' sworn proof, that ye were last seen wi’
them baith ; sae, unless ye can gie a' the better an ac-
count o’ baith yoursel an’ them, either hide, or flee for
your bare life.”
“ I will neither hide nor fly,” said I; “ for I am as
guiltless of the blood of these women as the child un-
born.”
“ The country disna think sae, master; an' I can as-
sure you, that should evidence fail, you run a risk o'
being torn limb frae limb. They are bringing the corpse
here, to gar ye touch them baith afore witnesses, an’
plenty o' witnesses there will be !”.


170
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“ They shall not bring them here," cried I, shocked
beyond measure at the experiment about to be made:
“ Go, instantly, and debar them from entering my gate
with their bloated and mangled carcasses."
“ The body of your own mother, sir !" said the fellow
emphatically. I was in terrible agitation; and, being
driven to my wit's end, I got up and strode furiously
round and round the room. Samuel wist not what to do,
but I saw by his staring he deemed me doubly guilty.
A tap came to the chamber door: we both started like
guilty creatures; and as for Samuel, his hairs stood all
on end with alarm, so that when I motioned to him, he
could scarcely advance to open the door. He did so at
length, and who should enter but my illustrious friend,
manifestly in the utmost state of alarm. The moment
that Samuel admitted him, the former made his escape
by the prince's side as he entered, seemingly in a state of
distraction. I was little better, when I saw this dreaded
personage enter my chamber, which he had never before
attempted; and being unable to ask his errand, I suppose
I stood and gazed on him like a statue.
“I come with sad and tormenting tidings to you, my
beloved and ungrateful friend," said he ;"but having only
a minute left to save your life, I have come to attempt
it. There is a mob coming towards you with two dead
bodies, which will place you in circumstances disagree-
able enough; but that is not the worse, for of that you
may be able to clear yourself. At this moment there is
a party of officers, with a Justiciary warrant from Edin-
burgh, surrounding the house, and about to begin the
search of it, for you. If you fall into their hands, you
are inevitably lost; for I have been making earnest
inquiries, and find that every thing is in train for your
ruin.”
“ Ay, and who has been the cause of all this ?” said
I, with great bitterness. But he stopped me short, ad-
ding," there is no time for such reflections at present:
I give you my word of honour that your life should be
safe from the hand of man. So it shall, if the power


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
171
remain with me to save it. I am come to redeem my
pledge, and to save your life by the sacrifice of my own.
Here, --not one word of expostulation ; change habits
with me, and you may then pass by the officers, and
guards, and even through the approaching mob, with the
most perfect temerity. There is a virtue in this garb,
and instead of offering to detain you, they shall pay you
obeisance. Make haste, and leave this place for the
present, flying where you best may, and if I escape from
these dangers that surround me, I will endeavour to find
you out, and bring you what intelligence I am able."
I put on his green frock coat, buff belt, and a sort of
a turban that he always 'wore on his head, somewhat re-
sembling a bishop's mitre; he drew his hand thrice across
my face, and I withdrew as he continued to urge me.
My hall door and postern gate were both strongly guard-
ed, and there were sundry armed people within, search-
ing the closets ; but all of them made way for me, and
lifted their caps as I passed by them. Only one superior
officer accosted me, asking if I had seen the culprit ? I
knew not what answer to make, but chanced to say, with
great truth and propriety, “he is safe enough.” The
man beckoned with a smile, as much as to say, “ thank
you, sir, that is quite sufficient;" and I walked deliber-
ately away.
I had not well left the gate, till, hearing a great noise
coming from the deep glen toward the east, I turned that
way, deeming myself quite secure in this my new disguise,
to see what it was, and if matters were as had been des-
cribed to me. There I met a great mob, sure enough,
coming with two dead bodies stretched on boards, and
decently covered with white sheets. I would fain have
examined their appearance, had I not perceived the ap-
parent fury in the looks of the men, and judged from
that how much more safe it was for me not to intermed-
dle in the affray. I cannot tell how it was, but I felt a
strange and unwonted delight in viewing this scene, and
a certain pride of heart in being supposed the perpetrator
of the unnatural crimes laid to my charge. This was a


172
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
feeling quite new to me ; and if there were virtues in
the robes of the illustrious foreigner, who had without
all dispute preserved my life at this time; I say, if there
was any inherent virtue in these robes of his, as he had
suggested, this was one of their effects, that they turned
my heart towards that which was evil, horrible and dis.
gustful.
I mixed with the mob to hear what they were saying.
Every tongue was engaged in loading me with the most
opprobrious epithets! One called me a monster of
nature; another an incarnate devil; and another a crea-
ture made to be cursed in time and eternity. I retired
from them, and winded my way southward, comforting
myself with the assurance, that so mankind had used and
persecuted the greatest fathers and apostles of the Chris-
tian church, and that their vile opprobrium could not alter
the counsels of heaven concerning me.
On going over that rising ground called Dorington
Moor, I could not help turning round and taking a look
of Dalcastle, I had little doubt that it would be iny last
look, and nearly as little ambition that it should not. I
thought how high my hopes of happiness and advance
ment had been on entering that mansion, and taking
possession of its rich and extensive domains, and how
miserably I had been disappointed. On the contrary, I
had experienced nothing but chagrin, disgust, and terror ;
and I now consoled myself with the hope that I should
henceforth shake myself free of the chains of my great
tormentor, and for that privilege was I willing to encoun-
ter any earthly distress. I could not help perceiving,
that I was now on a path which was likely to lead me
into a species of distress hitherto unknown, and hardly
dreamed of by me, and that was total destitution. For
all the riches I had been possessed of a few hours previous
to this, I found that here I was turned out of my lordly
possessions without a single merk, or the power of lifting
and commanding the smallest sum, without being there-
by discovered and seized. Had it been possible for me
to have escaped in my own clothes, I had a considerable


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
173
sum secreted in these, but by the sudden change, I was
left without a coin for present necessity. But I had
hope in heaven, knowing that the just man would not be
left destitute; and that though many troubles surround-
ed him, he would at last be set free from them all. I
was possessed of strong and brilliant parts, and a liberal
education; and though I had somehow unaccountably
suffered my theological qualifications to fall into desue-
tude, since my acquaintance with the ablest and most
rigid of all theologians, I had nevertheless hopes that, I
should yet be enabled to benefit mankind in some coun-
try, and rise to high distinction.'
These were some of the thoughts by which I consol-
ed myself as I passed on my way southward, avoiding
the towns and villages, and falling into the cross ways
that led from each of the great roads passing east and
west, to another. I lodged the first night in the house
of a country weaver, into which I stepped at a late hour,
quite overcome with hunger and fatigue, having travelled
not less than thirty miles from my late home. The man
received me ungraciously, telling me of a gentleman's
house at no great distance, and of an inn a little farther
away; but I said I delighted more in the society of a
man like him, than that of any gentleman of the land,
for my concerns were with the poor of this world, it
being easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.
The weaver's wife, who sat with a child on her knee, and
had not hitherto opened her mouth, hearing me speak in
that serious and religious style, stirred up the fire, with
her one hand; then drawing a chair near it, she said,
“ Come awa, honest lad, in by here, sin' it be sae that you
belong to Him wha gies us a' that we hae, it is but right
that you should share a part. You are a stranger, it is
true, but them that winna entertain a stranger will never
entertain an angel unawares.”
I never was apt to be taken with the simplicity of na-
ture ; in general I despised it ; but, owing to my circum-
stances at the time, I was deeply affected by the manner
v.


174
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
of this poor woman's welcome. The weaver continued
in a churlish mood throughout the evening, apparently
dissatisfied with what his wife had done in entertaining
me, and spoke to her in a manner so crusty that I thought
proper to rebuke him, for the woman was comely in her
person and virtuous in her conversation ; but the weaver
her husband was large of make, ill-favoured, and pesti.
lent; therefore did I take him severely to task for the
tenor of his conduct; but the man was froward, and an-
swered me rudely, with sneering and derision, and, in
the height of his caprice, he said to his wife, “ Whan
focks are sae keen of a chance o' entertaining angels,
gudewife, it wad maybe be worth their while to tak tent
what kind o' angels they are. It wadna wonder me vera
muckle an ye had entertained your friend the deil the
night, for I thought I fand a saur o' reek an' brimstane
about him. He's nane o' the best o' angels, an' focks
winna hae muckle credit by entertaining him.”
Certainly, in the assured state I was in, I had as little
reason to be alarmed at mention being made of the devil
as any person on earth : of late, however, I felt that the
reverse was the case, and that any allusion to my great
enemy, moved me exceedingly. The weaver's speech had
such an effect on me, that both he and his wife were alarm-
ed at my looks. The latter thought I was angry, and
chided her husband gently for his rudeness ; but the weaver
himself rather seemed to be confirmed in his opinion that
I was the devil, for he looked round like a startled roe-
buck, and immediately betook him to the family Bible.
, I know not whether it, was on purpose to prove my
identity or not, but I think he was going to desire me
either to read a certain portion of Scripture that he had
sought out, or to make family worship, had not the con-
versation at that instant taken another turn; for the wea-
ver, not knowing how to address me, abruptly asked my
name, as he was about to put the Bible into my hands.
Never having considered myself in the light of a male-
factor, but rather as a champion in the cause of truth,
and finding myself perfectly safe under my disguise, I


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
175
had never once thought of the utility of changing my
name, and when the man asked me, I hesitated ; but being
compelled to say something, I said my name was Cowan.
The man stared at me, and then at his wife, with a look that
spoke a knowledge of something alarming or mysterious.
“ Ha! Cowan ?" said he. « That's most extrordinar!
Not Colwan, I hope ?"
“No : Cowan is my sirname,” said I. “ But why
not Colwan, there being so little difference in the sound ?"
• I was feared ye might be that waratch that the deil
has taen the possession o', an' eggit him on to kill baith
his father an' his mother, his only brother, an' his sweet-
heart,” said he ; “an' to say the truth, I'm no that sure
about you yet, for I see you're gaun wi' arms on ye.”
“ Not I, honest man," said I; “I carry no arms; a
man conscious of his innocence and uprightness of heart,
needs not to carry arms in his defence now."
“ Ay, ay, maister,” said he; “an' pray what div ye
ca' this bit windlestrae that's appearing here?” With
that he pointed to something on the inside of the breast
of my frock-coat. I looked at it, and there certainly was
the gilded haft of a poniard, the same weapon I had seen
and handled before, and which I knew my illustrious
companion always carried about with him ; but till that
moment I knew not that I was in possession of it. I
drew it out: a more dangerous or insidious looking wea.
pon could not be conceived. The weaver and his wife
were both frightened, the latter in particular; and she
being my friend, and I dependent on their hospitality, for
that night, I said, “ I declare I knew not that I carried
this small rapier, which has been in my coat by chance,
and not by any design of mine. But lest you should
think that I meditate any mischief to any under this roof,
I give it into your hands, requesting of you to lock it by
till to-morrow, or when I shall next want it."
The woman seemed rather glad to get hold of it ; and,
taking it from me, she went into a kind of pantry out of
my sight, and locked the weapon up; and then the dis-
course went on.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
177
one maintaining the probability that I was the murderer
and the other proving the impossibility of it. The hus-
band, however, said as much as let me understand, that
he had locked me up on purpose to bring the military,
or officers of justice, to seize me. I was in the utmost
perplexity, yet, for all that, and the imminent danger I
was in, I fell asleep, and a more troubled and tormenting
sleep never enchained a mortal frame. I had such dreams
that they will not bear repetition, and early in the morn-
ing I awaked, feverish, and parched with thirst.
· I went to call mine host, that he might let me out to
the open air, but before doing so, I thought it necessary
to put on some clothes. In attempting to do this, a cir-
cumstance arrested my attention, (for which I could in
nowise account, which to this day I cannot unriddle, nor
shall I ever be able to comprehend it while I live,) the
frock and turban, which had furnished my disguise on
the preceding day, were both removed, and my own black
coat and cocked hat laid down in their place. At first I
thought I was in a dream, and felt the weaver's beam,
web, and treadle-strings with my hands, to convince my-
self that I was awake. I was certainly awake; and there was
the door locked firm and fast as it was the evening before.
I carried my own black coat to the small window, and exa-
mined it. It was my own in verity; and the sums of mo-
ney, that I had concealed in case of any emergency, re-
mained untouched. I trembled with astonishment; and
on my return from the small window, went doiting in
amongst the weaver's looms, till I entangled myself, and
could not get out again without working great deray
amongst the coarse linen threads that stood in warp from
one end of the apartment unto the other. I had no
knife whereby to cut the cords of this wicked man, and
therefore was obliged to call out lustily for assistance.
The weaver came half naked, unlocked the door, and,
setting in his head and long neck, accosted me thus :
“What now, Mr. Satan? What for are ye roaring
that gate ? Deil be in your reistit trams! What for
þave ye abscondit yoursel into ma leddy's wab for ?"
P 2


178
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
“ Friend, I beg your pardon," said I; “ I wanted to
be at the light, and have somehow unfortunately involved
myself in the intricacies of your web, from which I can.
not get clear without doing you a great injury. Pray
do, lend your experienced hand to extricate me.”
“ Ye ditit, donnart, deil's burd that ye be! what made
ye gang howkin in there to be a poor man's ruin? Come
out, ye vile rag-of-o-muffin, or I will gar ye come out
wi' mair shame and disgrace, an' fewer haill banes in your
body."
My feet had slipped down through the double war.
pings of a web, and not being able to reach the ground
with them, (there being a small pit below,) I rode upon
a number of yielding threads, and there being nothing
else that I could reach, to extricate myself was impossi-
ble. I was utterly powerless : and besides, the yarn and
cords hurt me very much. For all that, the destructive
weaver seized a loomspoke, and began a-beating me most
unmercifully, while, entangled as I was, I could do no-
thing but shout aloud for mercy, or assistance, whichever
chanced to be within hearing. The latter, at length,
made its appearance, in the form of the weaver's wife, in
the same state of deshabille with himself who instantly in.
terfered, and that most strenuously, on my behalf. Be-
fore her arrival, however, I had made a desperate effort
to throw myself out of the entanglement I was in ; for the
weaver continued repeating his blows and cursing me so,
that I determined to get out of his meshes at any risk.
This effort made my case worse ; for my feet being wrapt
among the nether threads, as I threw myself from my
saddle on the upper ones, my feet brought the others up
through these, and I hung with my head down, and my
feet as firm as if they had been in a vice. The predica-
ment of the web being thereby increased, the weaver's
wrath was doubled in proportion, and he laid on without
mercy.
At this critical juncture the wife arrived, and without
hesitation rushed before her offended lord, withholding
his hand from injuring me farther, although then it was


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
179
uplifted along with the loomspoke in overbearing ire.
“ Dear Johnny! I think ye be gaen dementit this morn-
ing. Be quiet, my dear, an' dinna begin a Boddel
Brigg business in your ain house. What for ir ye per.
secutin' a servant o' the Lord's that gate, an' pitting the
life out o' him wi' his head down an' his heels up?"
“ Had ye said a servant o' the deil's, Nans, ye wad
hae been nearer the nail, for gin he binna the auld ane
himsel, he's gayan sib till him. There didna I lock him
in on purpose to bring the military on him ; an' in place
o' that, haşna he keepit me in a sleep a' this while as
deep as death? . An' here do I find him abscondit like
a speeder i' the mids o' my leddy's wab, an' me dreamin'
a' the night that I had the deil i' my house, an' that he
was clapperclawin me ayont the loom. Have at you, ye
brunstane thief !” and, in spite of the good woman's
struggles, he lent me another severe blow.
“ Now, Johnny Dods, my man! 0 Johnny Dods,
think if that be like a Christian, and ane o' the heroes o'
Boddel Brigg, to entertain a stranger, an' then bind him
in a web wi' his head down, an' mell him to death! O
Johnny Dods, think what you are about! Slack a pin,
an' let the good honest religious lad out."
The weaver was rather overcome, but still stood to
his point that I was the deil, though in better temper;
and as he slackened the web to release me, he remarked,
half laughing, “ Wha wad hae thought that John Dods
should hae escapit a' the snares an' dangers that circum-
fauldit him, an' at last should hae weaved a net to catch
the deil.”
The wife released me soon, and carefully whispered
me, at the same time, that it would be as well for me to
dress and be going. I was not long in obeying, and
dressed myself in my black clothes, hardly knowing what
I did, what to think, or whither to betake myself. I was
sore hurt by the blows of the desperate ruffian ; and,
what was worse, my ankle was so much strained, that I
could hardly set my foot to the ground. I was obliged
to apply to the weaver once more, to see if I could learn


180
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
any thing about my clothes, or how the change was
effected. “Sir," said I, “ how comes it that you have
robbed me of my clothes, and put these down in their
place over night ?"
“ Ha! thae claes ? Me pit down thae claes !" said he,
gaping with astonishment, and touching the clothes with
the point of his fore-finger ; “ I never saw them afore, as
I have death to meet wi'."
He strode into the work-house where I slept, to satisfy
himself that my clothes were not there, and returned
perfectly aghast with consternation. “ The doors were
baith faist lockit," said he. “I could hae defied a rat
either to hae gotten out or in. My dream has been true!
My dream has been true! I charge you to depart out o'
this house ; an', gin it be your will, dinna tak the braid.
side o't w'ye, but gang quietly out at the door wi' your
face foremost. Wiſe, let nought o' this enchanter's re-
main i’ the house, to be a curse, an' a snare to us; gang
an' bring him his gildit weapon."
The wife went to seek my poniard, trembling so
excessively that she could hardly walk, and shortly after,
we heard a feeble scream from the pantry. The weapon
had disappeared with the clothes, though under double
lock and key ; and the terror of the good people having
now reached a disgusting extremity, I thought proper
to make a sudden retreat, followed by the weaver's ana.
theinas.
My state both of body and mind was now truly deplor-
able. I was hungry, wounded, and lame ; an outcast
and a vagabond in society; my life sought after with
avidity. I knew not whither to betake me. I had pro.
posed going into England, and there making some use of
the classical education I had received, but my lameness
rendered this impracticable for the present. I was there.
fore obliged to turn my face towards Edinburgh, where
I was little known--where concealment was more practi.
cable than by skulking in the country, and where I might
turn my inind to something that was great and good. I
had a little money, both Scots and English, now in my


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
181
possession, but not one friend in the whole world on
whom I could rely. One devoted friend, it is true, I had,
but he was become my greatest terror. To escape from
him, I now felt that I would willingly travel to the far.
thest corners of the world, and be subjected to every
deprivation ; but after the certainty of what had taken
place last night, after I had travelled thirty miles by secret
and bye-ways, I saw not how.escape from him was pos-
sible.
· Miserable, forlorn, and dreading every person that I
saw, either behind or before me, I hasted on towards
Edinburgh, taking all the bye and unfrequented paths;
and the third night after I left the weaver's house, I
reached the West Port; without meeting with any thing
remarkable. Being exceedingly fatigued and lame, I
took lodgings in the first house I entered, and for these
I was to pay two groats a-week, and to board and sleep
with a young man who wanted a companion to make his
rent easier. I liked this; having found from experience,
that the great personage who had attached himself to me,
and was now becoming my greatest terror among many
surrounding evils, generally haunted me when I was
alone, keeping aloof from all other society.
My fellow lodger came home in the evening, and was
glad at my coming. His name was Linton, and I changed
mine to Elliot. He was a flippant unstable being, one to
whom nothing appeared a difficulty, in his own estimation,
but who could effect very little, after all. He was what
is called by some a compositor, in the Queen's printing
house, then conducted by a Mr James Watson. In the
course of our conversation that night, I told him that I
was a first-rate classical scholar, and would gladly turn
my attention to some business wherein my education
might avail me something; and that there was nothing •
would delight me so much as an engagement in the
Queen's printing office. Linton made no difficulty in
bringing about that arrangement. His answer was.
“Oo, gud sir, you are the very man we want. Gud
bless your breast and your buttons, sir! Ay, that's nei-


182
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ther here nor there-That's all very well-Ha-ha-ha-A
byeword in the house, sir. But, as I was saying, you
are the very man we want-You will get any money you
like to ask, sir-Any money you like, sir.—That's
settled-All done--Settled, settledI'll do it, I'll do
it-No more about it ; no more about it. Settled,
settled."
The next day I went with him to the office, and he
presented me to Mr Watson as the most wonderful genius
and scholar ever known. His recommendation had little
sway with Mr Watson, who only smiled at Linton's ex-
travagancies, as one does at the prattle of an infant. I
sauntered about the printing office for the space of two or
three hours, during which time Watson bustled about
with green spectacles on his nose, and took no heed of
me. But seeing that I still lingered, he addressed me at
length, in a civil gentlemanly way, and inquired concern-
ing my views. I satisfied him with all my answers, in
particular those to his questions about the Latin and Greek
languages; but when he came to ask testimonials of my
character and acquirements, and found that I could pro.
duce none, he viewed me with a jealous eye, and said he
dreaded I was some ne'er-do-weel, run from my parents
or guardians, and he did not choose to employ any such.
I said my parents were both dead ; and that being thereby
deprived of the means of following out my education, it
behoved me to apply to some business in which my edu.
cation might be of some use to me.' He said he would
take me into the office, and pay me according to the
business I performed, and the manner in which I deported
myself; but he could take no one into her Majesty's
printing office upon a regular engagement, who could
mot produce the most respectable references with regard
to morals.
I could not but despise the man in my heart who laid
such a stress upon morals, leaving grace out of the ques.
tion; and viewed it as a deplorable instance of human
depravity and self-conceit; but for all that, I was obliged
to accept of his terms, for I had an inward thirst and


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
183
longing to distinguish myself in the great cause of religion,
and I thought if once I could print my own works, how
I would astonish mankind, and confound their self-wisdom
and their esteemed morality. And I weened that I
might thus get me a name even higher than if I had been
made a general of the Czar Peter's troops against the
infidels.
I attended the office some hours every day, but got
not much encouragement, though I was eager to learn
every thing, and could soon have set types considerably
well. It was here that I first conceived the idea of writ-
ing this journal, and having it printed, and applied to Mr
Watson to print it for me, telling him it was a religious
parable such as the Pilgrim's Progress. He advised me
to print it close, and make it a pamphlet, and then if it
did not sell, it would not cost me much ; but that religious
pamphlets, especially if they had a shade of allegory in
them, were the very rage of the day. I put my work to the
press, and wrote early and late; and encouraging my com-
panion to work at odd hours, and on Sundays. Before the
press-work of the second sheet was begun, we had the work
all in types, corrected, and a clean copy thrown off for
farther revisal. The first sheet was wrought off ; and I
never shall forget how my heart exulted when at the
printing house this day, I saw what numbers of my works
were to go abroad among mankind, and I determined
with myself that I would not put the Border name of
Elliot, which I had assumed, to the work.
Thus far have my History and Confessions been car-'
ried.
I must now furnish my Christian readers with a key
to the process, management, and winding up of the whole
matter; which I propose to limit to a very few pages.
Chesters, July 27, 1712.—My hopes and prospects
are a wreck. My precious journal is lost! consigned
to the flames ! My enemy hath found me out, and



182
PRIVATE MEMO
ther here nor there. That's all
byeword in the house, sir. B
are the very man we want-You
like to ask, sir-Any money
settled--All done-Settled, set
it-No more about it ; nom
settled."
The next day I went with his
presented me to Mr Watson as the
and scholar ever known. His red
sway with Mr Watson, who only
travagancies, as one does at the
sauntered about the printing office
three hours, during which time
with green spectacles on his nose
me. But seeing that I still linger
length, in a civil gentlemanly way,
ing my views. I satisfied him w
particular those to his questions aboy
languages ; but when he came to a
character and acquirements, and fol
duce none, he viewed me with a je
dreaded I was some ne'er-do-weel,
or guardians, and he did not choose
I said my parents were both dead ;
deprived of the means of following
behoved me to apply to some busine
cation might be of some use to me.
take me into the office, and pay
business I performed, and the manne
myself ; but he could take no one
printing office upon a regular eng
mot produce the most respectable
to morals.
I could not but despise the man i
such a stress upon morals, leaving
tion ; and viewed it as a deplorab]
depravity and self-conceit; but for
to accept of his terms, for I had


SIONS OF A FANATIC.
185
11, or the soul of man to bear. I
#s, the only copy of my unfinished
in pretence of going straight to Mr
imped from my lodgings at Portsburgh
of evening, and took the road to.
lear of the city, I ran with a velocity
ad been capable of. I flew out the
so swiftly, that I often lost sight of
aid to myself, “O that I had the
I might fly to the farthest corners
de from those against whom I have
sight and the next morning, exert-
power ; and about noon the follow-
• veoman's house, the name of which
riquested of the people a couch of
wid, for I was ill, and could not pro-
They showed me to a stable-loft
beds, on one of which I laid me
ja sound sleep, I did not awake
her three men came from the fields
hace, one of whom lay down beside
exceedingly glad. They fell all
as terribly alarmed at a conversa-
... where outside the stable. I could
nice, but trembled to think I knew
least, and rather than not be mis.
ny man had run me through with a
old sweat, and once thought of in-
*o my own life, as my only means
sh and sinful thought be in mercy
->ard as it were two persons at the
I thought, about their right and in-
† the one was forcibly preventing the
er, I could hear distinctly, and their
i with something dreadful and myste-
of terror, I awakened my snoring
at difficulty, and asked him, in a low


184
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
there is no hope of peace or rest for me on this side the
grave.
In the beginning of the last week, my fellow lodger
came home running in a great panic, and told me a story
of the devil having appeared twice in the printing house,
assisting the workmen at the printing of my book, and that
some of them had been frightened out of their wits. That
the story was told to Mr Watson, who till that time had
never paid any attention to the treatise, but who, out of
curiosity, began and read a part of it, and thereupon flew
into a great rage, called my work a medley of lies and
blasphemy, and ordered the whole to be consigned to the
fames, blaming bis foreman, and all connected with the
press, for letting a work go so far, that was enough to
bring down the vengeance of heaven on the concern.
If ever I shed tears through perfect bitterness of spirit
it was that time, but I hope it was more for the ignorance
and folly of my countrymen than the overthrow of my
own hopes. But my attention was suddenly aroused to
other matters, by Linton mentioning that it was said by
some in the office the devil had inquired for me.
“Surely you are not such a fool," said I, “as to be-
lieve that the devil really was in the printing office?"
"Oo, gude bless you sir I saw him myself, gave him a
nod, and good-day. Rather a gentlemanly personage-
Green Circassian hunting coat and turban--Like a for-
eigner--Has the power of vanishing in one moment
though-Rather a suspicious circumstance that. Other-
wise, his appearance not much against him."
If the former intelligence thrilled me with grief, this
did so with terror. I perceived who the personage was
that had visited the printing house in order to further the
progress of my work ; and at the approach of every per-
son to our lodgings, I from that instant trembled every
bone, lest it should be my elevated and dreaded friend.
I could not say I had ever received an office at his hand
that was not friendly, yet these offices had been of a
strange tendency; and the horror with which I now re.
garded hiin was unaccountable to myself. It was beyond


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
185
description, conception, or the soul of man to bear. I
took my printed sheets, the only copy of my unfinished
work existing; and, on pretence of going straight to Mr
Watson's office, decamped from my lodgings at Portsburgh
a little before the fall of evening, and took the road to.
wards England.
As soon as I got clear of the city, I ran with a velocity
I knew not before I had been capable of. I few out the
way towards Dalkeith so swiftly, that I often lost sight of
the ground, and I said to myself, “O that I had the
wings of a dove, that I might fly to the farthest corners
of the earth, to hide me from those against whom I have
no power to stand !"
I travelled all that night and the next morning, exert-
ing myself beyond my power ; and about noon the follow-
ing day I went into a yeoman's house, the name of which
was Ellanshaws, and requested of the people a couch of
any sort to lie down on, for I was ill, and could not pro-
ceed on my journey. They showed me to a stable-loft
where there were two beds, on one of which I laid me
down ; and, falling into a sound sleep, I did not awake
till the evening, that other three men came from the fields
to sleep in the same place, one of whom lay down beside
me, at which I was exceedingly, glad. They fell all
sound asleep, and I was terribly alarmed at a conversa-
sation I overheard somewhere outside the stable. I could
not make out a sentence, but trembled to think I knew
one of the voices at least, and rather than not be mis-
taken, I would that any man had run me through with a
sword. I fell into a cold sweat, and once thought of in-
stantly putting hand to my own life, as my only means
of relief, (May the rash and sinful thought be in mercy
forgiven !) when I heard as it were two persons at the
door contending, as I thought, about their right and in-
terest in me. That the one was forcibly preventing the
admission of the other, I could hear distinctly, and their
language was mixed with something dreadful and myste-
rious. In an agony of terror, I awakened my snoring
companion with great difficulty, and asked him, in a low


196
PHIVATV MEMOIRA AND
whisper, who these were at the door? The man laya.
lent, and listening, till fairly awake, and then asked if I
had heard any thing? I said I had heard strange Voice
contonding at the door.
" Then I can tell you, Isus, it has been something ney
ther good nor canny," said he: “it's no for naething
that our horses are snorking that gate."
For the first time, I remarked that the animals were
Anorting and rearing as if they wished to break through
the house. The man called to them by their names, and
ordered them to be quiet ; but they raged still the more
furiously. He then roused his drowsy companions, who
were alike alarmed at the panic of the horses, all of them
declaring that they had never seen either Mause or Jolly
start in their lives before. My bed-fellow and another
then ventured down the ladder, and I heard one of them
then saying, “ Lord be wi' us! What can be i the
house? The sweat's rinning off the poor beasts like
water."
They agreed to sally out together, and if possible to
reach the kitchen and bring a light. I was glad at this,
but not so much so when I heard the one man saying to
the other, in a whisper, “ I wish that stranger man may
be canny enough."
" Gude kens " said the other : “ It doesnae look unco
weel."
The lad in the other bed, hearing this, set up his head
in manifest aflright as the other two departed for the
kitchen ; and, I believe, he would have been glad to have
been in their company. This lad was next the ladder, at
which I was extremely glad, for had he not been there,
the world should not have induced me to wait the retum
of these two men. They were not well gone, before I
heard another distinctly enter the stable, and come to
wards the ladder. The lad who was sitting up in his
bed, intent on the watch, called out, " Wha's that there?
Walker, is that you ? Purdie, I say, is it you?"
The darkling, intruder paused for a few moments, and
1*1 came towards the foot of the ladder. The horses


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
187
broke loose, and snorting and neighing for terror, raged
through the house. In all my life I never heard so fright-
ful a commotion. The being that occasioned it all, now
-began to mount the ladder toward our loft, on which the
lad in the bed next the ladder sprung from his couch,
crying out, “ preserve us ! what can it be?” With that
he sped across the loft, and by my bed, praying lustily all
the way; and, throwing himself from the other end of the
loft into a manger, he darted, naked as he was, through
among the furious horses, and making the door, that
stood open, in a moment he vanished and left me in the
lurch. Powerless with terror, and calling out fearfully,
I tried to follow his example ; but not knowing the situ-
ation of the places with regard to one another, I missed
the manger, and fell on the pavement in one of the stalls.
I was both stunned and lamed on the knee ; but terror
prevailing, I got up and tried to escape. It was out of
my power; for there were divisions and cross divisions in
the house, and mad horses smashing everything before
them, so that I knew not so much as on what side of the
house the door was. Two or three times was I knocked
down by the animals, but all the while I never stinted
crying out with all my power. At length, I was seized
by the throat and hair of the head, and dragged away, I
wist not whither. My voice was now laid, and all my
powers, both mental and bodily, totally overcome ; and
I remember no more till I found myself lying naked on
the kitchen table of the farm house, and something like
a horse's rug thrown over me. The only hint that I got
from the people of the house on coming to myself was,
that my absence would be good company; and that they
had got me in a woful state, one which they did not
choose to describe, or hear described.
As soon as day-light appeared, I was packed about my
business, with the hisses and execrations of the yeoman's
family, who viewed me as a being to be shunned, ascri-
bing to me the visitations of that unholy night. Again
was I on my way southward, as lonely, hopeless, and
degraded a being as was to be found on life's weary round.


180
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
any thing about my clothes, or how the change was
effected. “Sir," said I, “ how comes it that you have
robbed me of my clothes, and put these down in their
place over night ?"
“ Ha! thae claes ? Me pit down thae claes !" said he,
gaping with astonishment, and touching the clothes with
the point of his fore-finger ; "I never saw them afore, as
I have death to meet wi'.”
He strode into the work-house where I slept, to satisfy
himself that my clothes were not there, and returned
perfectly aghast with consternation. “ The doors were
baith faist lockit,” said he. “I could hae defied a rat
either to hae gotten out or in. My dream has been true!
My dream has been true! I charge you to depart out o'
this house ; an', gin it be your will, dinna tak the braid-
side o't w’ye, but gang quietly out at the door wi' your
face foremost. Wife, let nought o' this enchanter's re-
main i' the house, to be a curse, an'a snare to us; gang
an' bring him his gildit weapon.”
The wife went to seek my poniard, trembling so
excessively that she could hardly walk, and shortly after,
we heard a feeble scream from the pantry. The weapon
had disappeared with the clothes, though under double
lock and key ; and the terror of the good people having
now reached a disgusting extremity, I thought proper
to make a sudden retreat, followed by the weaver's ana-
themas.
My state both of body and mind was now truly deplor-
able. I was hungry, wounded, and lame ; an outcast
and a vagabond in society ; my life sought after with
avidity. I knew not whither to betake me. I had pro-
posed going into England, and there making some use of
the classical education I had received, but my lameness
rendered this impracticable for the present. I was there.
fore obliged to turn my face towards Edinburgh, where
I was little known—where concealment was more practi-
cable than by skulking in the country, and where I might
turn my mind to something that was great and good. I
had a little money, both Scots and English, now in my


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
181
possession, but not one friend in the whole world on
whom I could rely. One devoted friend, it is true, I had,
but he was become my greatest terror. To escape from
him, I now felt that I would willingly travel to the far-
thest corners of the world, and be subjected to every
deprivation ; but after the certainty of what had taken
place last night, after I had travelled thirty miles by secret
and bye-ways, I saw not how.escape from him was pos-
sible. ' .
· Miserable, forlorn, and dreading every person that I
saw, either behind or before me, I hasted on towards
Edinburgh, taking all the bye and unfrequented paths ;
and the third night after I left the weaver's house, I
reached the West Port; without meeting with any thing
remarkable. Being exceedingly fatigued and lame, I
took lodgings in the first house I entered, and for these
I was to pay two groats a-week, and to board and sleep
with a young man who wanted a companion to make his
rent easier. I liked this; having found from experience,
that the great personage who had attached himself to me,
and was now becoming my greatest terror among many
surrounding evils, generally haunted me when I was
alone, keeping aloof from all other society.
My fellow lodger came home in the evening, and was
glad at my coming. His name was Linton, and I changed
mine to Elliot. He was a flippant unstable being, one to
whom nothing appeared a difficulty, in his own estimation,
but who could effect very little, after all. He was what
is called by some a compositor, in the Queen's printing
house, then conducted by a Mr James Watson. In the
course of our conversation that night, I told him that I
was a first-rate classical scholar, and would gladly turn
my attention to some business wherein my education
might avail me something; and that there was nothing
would delight me so much as an engagement in the
Queen's printing office. Linton made no difficulty in
bringing about that arrangement. His answer was.
“Oo, gud sir, you are the very man we want. Gud
bless your breast and your buttons, sir! Ay, that's nei-


182
: PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ther here nor there-That's all very well-Ha-ha-ha-A
byeword in the house, sir. But, as I was saying, you
are the very man we want-You will get any money you
like to ask, sir-Any money you like, sir.—That's
settled-All done--Settled, settled I'll do it, I'll do
it-No more about it; no more about it. Settled,
settled.”
The next day I went with him to the office, and he
presented me to Mr Watson as the most wonderful genius
and scholar ever known. His recommendation had little
sway with Mr Watson, who only smiled at Linton's ex-
travagancies, as one does at the prattle of an infant. I
sauntered about the printing office for the space of two or
three hours, during which time Watson bustled about
with green spectacles on his nose, and took no heed of
me. But seeing that I still lingered, he addressed me at
length, in a civil gentlemanly way, and inquired concern-
ing my views. I satisfied him with all my answers, in
particular those to his questions about the Latin and Greek
languages; but when he came to ask testimonials of my
character and acquirements, and found that I could pro-
duce none, he viewed me with a jealous eye, and said he
dreaded I was some ne'er-do-weel, run from my parents
or guardians, and he did not choose to employ any such.
I said my parents were both dead ; and that being thereby
deprived of the means of following out my education, it
behoved me to apply to some business in which my edu.
cation might be of some use to me.' He said he would
take me into the office, and pay me according to the
business I performed, and the manner in which I deported
myself; but he could take no one into her Majesty's
printing office upon a regular engagement, who could
not produce the most respectable references with regard
to morals.
I could not but despise the man in my heart who laid
such a stress upon morals, leaving grace out of the ques-
tion ; and viewed it as a deplorable instance of human
depravity and self-conceit; but for all that, I was obliged
to accept of his terms, for I had an inward thirst and
WH


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
183
longing to distinguish myself in the great cause of religion,
and I thought if once I could print my own works, how
I would astonish mankind, and confound their self-wisdom
and their esteemed morality. And I weened that I
might thus get me a name even higher than if I had been
made a general of the Czar Peter's troops against the
infidels.
I attended the office some hours every day, but got
not much encouragement, though I was eager to learn
every thing, and could soon have set types considerably
well. It was here that I first conceived the idea of writ-
ing this journal, and having it printed, and applied to Mr
Watson to print it for me, telling him it was a religious
parable such as the Pilgrim's Progress. He advised me
to print it close, and make it a pamphlet, and then if it
did not sell, it would not cost me much ; but that religious
pamphlets, especially if they had a shade of allegory in
them, were the very rage of the day. I put my work to the
press, and wrote early and late; and encouraging my com-
panion to work at odd hours, and on Sundays. Before the
press-work of the second sheet was begun, we had the work
all in types, corrected, and a clean copy thrown off for
farther revisal. The first sheet was wrought off ; and I
never shall forget how my heart exulted when at the
printing house this day, I saw what numbers of my works
were to go abroad among mankind, and I determined
with myself that I would not put the Border name of
Elliot, which I had assumed, to the work.
Thus far have my History and Confessions been car-
ried.
I must now furnish my Christian readers with a key
to the process, management, and winding up of the whole
matter; which I propose to limit to a very few pages.
Chesters, July 27, 1712.—My hopes and prospects
are a wreck. My precious journal is lost! consigned
to the flames! My enemy hath found me out, and


184
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
there is no hope of peace or rest for me on this side the
grave.
In the beginning of the last week, my fellow lodger
came home running in a great panic, and told' me a 'story
of the devil having appeared twice in the printing house,
assisting the workmen at the printing of my book, and that
some of them had been frightened out of their wits. That
the story was told to Mr Watson, who till that time had
never paid any attention to the treatise, but who, out of
curiosity, began and read a part of it, and thereupon flew
into a great rage, called my work a medley of lies and
blasphemy, and ordered the whole to be consigned to the
flames, blaming his foreman, and all connected with the
press, for letting a work go so far, that was enough to
bring down the vengeance of heaven on the concern.
If ever I shed tears through perfect bitterness of spirit
it was that time, but I hope it was more for the ignorance
and folly of my countrymen than the overthrow of my
own hopes. But my attention was suddenly aroused to
other matters, by Lintou mentioning that it was said by
some in the office the devil had inquired for me.
“Surely you are not such a fool,” said I, “as to be-
lieve that the devil really was in the printing office?"
." Oo, gude bless you sir! saw him myself, gave him a
nod, and good-day. Rather a gentlemanly personage-
Green Circassian hunting coat and turban-Like a for-
eigner-Has the power of vanishing in one moment
though-Rather a suspicious circumstance that. Other-
wise, his appearance not much against him.”
If the former intelligence thrilled me with grief, this
did so with terror. I perceived who the personage was
that had visited the printing house in order to further the
progress of my work ; and at the approach of every per-
son to our lodgings, I from that instant trembled every
bone, lest it should be my elevated and dreaded friend.
I could not say I had ever received an office at his hand
that was not friendly, yet these offices had been of a
strange tendency; and the horror with which I now re.
garded hiin was unaccountable to myself. It was beyond


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
185
description, conception, or the soul of man to bear. I
took my printed sheets, the only copy of my unfinished
work existing; and, on pretence of going straight to Mr
Watson's office, decamped from my lodgings at Portsburgh
a little before the fall of evening, and took the road to.
wards England.
As soon as I got clear of the city, I ran with a velocity
I knew not before I had been capable of. I flew out the
way towards Dalkeith so swiftly, that I often lost sight of
the ground, and I said to myself, “O that I had the
wings of a dove, that I might fly to the farthest corners
of the earth, to hide me from those against whom I have
no power to stand !”.
I travelled all that night and the next morning, exert-
ing myself beyond my power ; and about noon the follow-
ing day I went into a yeoman's house, the name of which
was Ellanshaws, and requested of the people a couch of
any sort to lie down on, for I was ill, and could not pro-
ceed on my journey. They showed me to a stable-loft
where there were two beds, on one of which I laid me
down ; and, falling into a sound sleep, I did not awake
till the evening, that other three men came from the fields
to sleep in the same place, one of whom lay down beside
me, at which I was exceedingly, glad. They fell all
sound asleep, and I was terribly alarmed at a conversa-
sation I overheard somewhere outside the stable. I could
not make out a sentence, but trembled to think I knew
one of the voices at least, and rather than not be mis-
taken, I would that any man had run me through with a
sword. I fell into a cold sweat, and once thought of in-
stantly putting hand to my own life, as my only means
of relief, (May the rash and sinful thought be in mercy
forgiven !) when I heard as it were two persons at the
door contending, as I thought, about their right and in-
terest in me. That the one was forcibly preventing the
admission of the other, I could hear distinctly, and their
language was mixed with something dreadful and myste-
rious. In an agony of terror, I awakened my snoring
companion with great difficulty, and asked him, in a low
v.


186
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
whisper, who these were at the door? The man lay si.
lent, and listening, till fairly awake, and then asked if I
had heard any thing? I said I had heard strange voices
contending at the door.
" Then I can tell you, lad, it has been something nei.
ther good nor canny,” said he: “it's no for naething
that our horses are snorking that gate."
For the first time, I remarked that the animals were
snorting and rearing as if they wished to break through
the house. The man called to them by their names, and
ordered them to be quiet ; but they raged still the more
furiously. He then roused his drowsy companions, who
were alike alarmed at the panic of the horses, all of them
declaring that they had never seen either Mause or Jolly
start in their lives before. My bed-fellow and another
then ventured down the ladder, and I heard one of them
then saying, “ Lord be wi' us! What can be i' the
house ? The sweat's rinning off the poor beasts like
water.”
They agreed to sally out together, and if possible to
reach the kitchen and bring a light. I was glad at this,
but not so much so when I heard the one man saying to
the other, in a whisper, “ I wish that stranger man may
be canny enough.”
“Gude kens !" said the other : “ It doesnae look unco
weel.”
The lad in the other bed, hearing this, set up his head
in manifest affright as the other two departed for the
kitchen ; and, I believe, he would have been glad to have
been in their company. This lad was next the ladder, at
which I was extremely glad, for had he not been there,
the world should not have induced me to wait the return
of these two men. They were not well gone, before I
heard another distinctly enter the stable, and come to- !
wards the ladder. The lad who was sitting up in his
bed, intent on the watch, called out, “ Wha's that there?
Walker, is that you ? Purdie, I say, is it you ?”
The darkling intruder paused for a few moments, and
then came towards the foot of the ladder. The horses


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
187
broke loose, and snorting and neighing for terror, raged
through the house. In all my life I never heard so fright-
ful a commotion. The being that occasioned it all, now
-began to mount the ladder toward our loft, on which the
lad in the bed next the ladder sprung from his couch,
crying out,“ preserve us ! what can it be?” With that
he sped across the loft, and by my bed, praying lustily all
the way; and, throwing himself from the other end of the
loft into a manger, he darted, naked as he was, through
among the furious horses, and making the door, that
stood open, in a moment he vanished and left me in the
lurch. Powerless with terror, and calling out fearfully,
I tried to follow his example ; but not knowing the situ.
ation of the places with regard to one another, I missed
the manger, and fell on the pavement in one of the stalls.
I was both stunned and lamed on the knee ; but terror
prevailing, I got up and tried to escape. It was out of
my power; for there were divisions and cross divisions in
the house, and mad horses smashing every thing before
them, so that I knew not so much as on what side of the
house the door was. Two or three times was I knocked
down by the animals, but all the while I never stinted
crying out with all my power. At length, I was seized
by the throat and hair of the head, and dragged away, I
wist not whither. My voice was now laid, and all my
powers, both mental and bodily, totally overcome; and
I remember no more till I found myself lying naked on
the kitchen table of the farm house, and something like
a horse's rug thrown over me. The only hint that I got
from the people of the house on coming to myself was,
that my absence would be good company; and that they
had got me in a woful state, one which they did not
choose to describe, or hear described.
As soon as day-light appeared, I was packed about my
business, with the hisses and execrations of the yeoman's
family, who viewed me as a being to be shunned, ascri-
bing to me the visitations of that unholy night. Again
was I on my way southward, as lonely, hopeless, and
degraded a being as was to be found on life's weary round.


188
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
My case was indeed a pitiable one. I was lame, hun.
gry, fatigued, and my resources on the very eve of being
exhausted. Yet these were but secondary miseries, and
hardly worthy of a thought, compared with those I suf.
fered inwardly. I not only looked around me with ter.
ror at every one that approached, but I was become a
terror to myself; or rather, my body and soul were be-
come terrors to each other; and, had it been possible,
I felt as if they would have gone to war. I dared not
look at my face in a glass, for I shuddered at my own
image and likeness. I dreaded the dawning, and trem-
bled at the approach of night, nor was there one thing
in nature that afforded me the least delight.
In this deplorable state of body and mind, was I jog.
ging on towards the Tweed, by the side of the small ri.
ver called Ellan ; when, just at the narrowest part of the
glen, whom should I meet full in the face, but the very
being in all the universe I would the most gladly have
shunned. I had no power to fly from him, neither durst
I, for the spirit within me, accuse him of falsehood, and
renounce his fellowship. I stood before him like a con-
demned criminal, staring him in the face, ready to be
winded, twisted, and tormented as he pleased. He re-
garded me with a sad and solemn look. How changed was
now that majestic countenance, to one of haggard despair
-changed in all save the extraordinary likeness to my
late brother, a resemblance which misfortune and despair
tended only to heighten. There were no kind greetings
passed between us at meeting, like those which pass be-
tween the men of the world; he looked on me with eyes
that froze the currents of my blood, but spoke not, till I
assumed as much courage as to articulate—“ You here!
I hope you have brought me tidings of comfort ?"
“ Tidings of despair !" said he. “But such tidings
as the timid and the ungrateful deserve, and have reason
to expect. You are an outlaw, and a vagabond in your
country, and a high reward is offered for your apprehen.
sion. The enraged populace have burnt your house, and
all that is within it ; and the farmers on the land bless


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
189
themselves at being rid of you. So fare it with every
one who puts his hand to the great work of man's res-
toration to freedom and draweth back, contemning the
light that is within him! Your enormities caused me to
leave you to yourself for a season, and you see what the
issue has been. You have given some evil ones power
over you, who long to dovour you, both soul and body,
and it has required all my power and influence to save
you. Had it not been for my hand, you had been torn
in pieces last night ; but for once I prevailed. We must
leave this land forth with, for here there is neither peace,
safety, nor comfort for us. Do you now, and here
pledge yourself to one who has so often saved your life,
and has put his own at stake to do so ? Do you pledge
yourself that you will henceforth be guided by my coun-
sel, and follow me whithersoever I choose to lead ?"
“ I have always been swayed by your counsel," said
I, “and for your sake, principally, am I sorry, that all
our measures have proved abortive. But I hope still to
be useful in my native isle, therefore let me plead that
your highness will abandon a poor despised and outcast
wretch to his fate, and betake you to your realms, where
your presence cannot but be greatly wanted.”
“ Would that I could do so!” said he woefully. “ But
to talk of that is to talk of an impossibility. I am wed.
ded to you so closely, that I feel as if I were the same
person. Our essences are one, and our bodies and spirits
being united, so, that I am drawn towards you as by
magnetism, and wherever you are, there must my pre-
sence be with you."
Perceiving how this assurance affected me, he began
to chide me most bitterly for my ingratitude ; and then
he assumed such looks, that it was impossible for me
longer to bear them; therefore I staggered out the way,
begging and beseeching of him to give me up to my fate,
and hardly knowing what I said ; for it struck me, that,
with all his assumed appearance of misery and wretchedness
there were traits of exultation in his hideous countenance,
manifesting a secret and inward joy at my utter despair.
Q2


190
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
It was long before I durst look over my shoulder, but
when I did so, I perceived this ruined and debased po.
tentate coming slowly on the same path, and I prayed
that the Lord would hide me in the bowels of the earth,
or depths of the sea. When I crossed the Tweed, I per-
ceived him still a little behind me ; and my despair being
then at its height, I cursed the time I first met with such
a tormentor.
After crossing the Tweed, I saw no more of my perse.
cutor that day, and had hopes that he had left me for a
season; but, alas, what hope was there of my relief after
the declaration I had so lately heard ! I took up my
lodgings that night in a small miserable inn in the village
of Ancrum, of which the people seemed alike poor and
ignorant. Before going to bed, I asked if it was custom-
ary with them to have family worship of evenings? The
man answered, that they were so hard set with the world,
they often could not get time, but if I would be so kind
as officiate they would be much obliged to me, I accept-
ed the invitation, being afraid to go to rest lest the com-
motions of the foregoing night might be renewed, and
continued the worship as long as in decency I could.
The poor people thanked me, hoped my prayers would
be heard both on their account and my own, seemed
much taken with my abilities, and wondered how a man
of my powerful eloquence chanced to be wandering about
in a condition so forlorn. I said I was a poor student of
theology, on iny way to Oxford. They stared at one
another with expressions of wonder, disappointment, and
fear. I afterwards came to learn, that the term theology
was by them quite misunderstood, and that they had some
crude conceptions that nothing was taught at Oxford but
the black arts, which ridiculous idea prevailed over all the
south of Scotland. For the present I could not under.
stand what the people meant, and less so, when the man
asked me, with deep concern, If I was serious in my in.
tentions of going to Oxford ? He hoped not, and that I
would be better guided.
I said iny education wanted finishing;-but he remark.


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
191
ed, that the Oxford arts were a bad finish for a religious
man's education.-Finally, I requested him to sleep with
me, or in my room all the night, as I wanted some seri-
ous and religious conversation with him, and likewise to
convince him that the study of the fine arts, though not
absolutely necessary, were not incompatible with the
character of a Christian divine. He shook his head and
wondered how I could call them fine arts-hoped I did
not mean to convince him by any ocular demonstration,
and at length reluctantly condescended to sleep with me,
and let the lass and wife sleep together for one night.
I believe he would have declined it, had it not been some
hints from his wife, stating, that it was a good arrange.
ment, by which I understood there were only two beds
in the house, and that when I was preferred to the lass's
bed, she had one to shift for.
The landlord and I accordingly retired to our homely
bed, and conversed for some time about indifferent mat-
ters, till he fell sound asleep. Not so with me. I had
that within which would not suffer me to close my eyes :
and about the dead of night, I again heard the same
noises and contention begin outside the house, as I had
heard the night before ; and again I heard it was about
a sovereign and peculiar right in me. At one time the noise
was on the top of the house, straight above our bed, as if the
one party were breaking through the roof, and the other
forcibly preventing it; at another time it was at the door,
and at a third time at the window ; but still mine host
lay sound by my side, and did not waken. I was seized
with terrors indefinable, and prayed fervently, but did
not attempt rousing my sleeping companion until I saw
if no better could be done. The women, however, were
alarmed, and, rushing into our apartment, exclaimed that
fiends were besieging the house. Then, indeed, the
landlord awoke, and it was time for him, for the tumult
had increased to such a degree, that it shook the house
to its foundations, being louder and more furious than I
could have conceived the heat of battle to be when the
volleys of artillery are mixed with groans, shouts, and


192
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
blasphemous cursing. It thundered and lightened : and
there were screams, groans, laughter, and execrations, all
intermingled.
I lay trembling and bathed in a cold perspiration, but
was soon obliged to bestir myself, the inmates attacking
me one after the other.
“0, Tam Douglas ! Tam Douglas ! haste ye an’rise
out fra-yont that incarnal devil !" cried the wife: “ Ye
are in ayont the auld ane himsel, for our lass Tibbie saw
his cloven cloots last night.”
“Lord forbid !” roared Tam Douglas, and darted over
the bed like a flying fish. Then, hearing the unearthly
tumult with which he was surrounded, he returned to
the side of the bed, and addressed me thus, with long and
fearful intervals:
“ If ye be the deil, rise up, an' depart in peace out o'
this house-afore the bedstrae take kindling about ye,
an' than it'll maybe be the waur for ye.—Get up-an'gang
awa out amang your cronies, like a good-lad- There's
nae body here wishes you ony ill—D'ye hear me ?"
“ Friend,” said I, “no Christian would turn out a
fellow-creature on such a night as this, and in the midst
of such a commotion of the villagers."
“ Na, if ye be a mortal man,” said he, “ which I rather
think, from the use you made of the holy book-Nane
o' your practical jokes on strangers an' honest folks.
These are some o' your Oxford tricks, an' I'll thank you
to be over wi' them.-Gracious heaven, they are brikkin
through the house at a' the four corners at the same
time!”
The lass Tibby, seeing the innkeeper was not going to
prevail with me to rise, flew toward the bed, in despera-
tion, and seizing me by the waist, soon landed me on
the floor, saying: “be ye deil, be ye chiel, ye's no lie
there till baith the house an'us be swallowed up !"
Her master and mistress applauding the deed, I was
obliged to attempt dressing myself, a task to which my
powers were quite inadequate in the state I was in, but
I was readily assisted by every one of the three ; and as


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
195
This is the third day I have lived under the roof, freed
of my hellish assailants, spending my time in prayer, and
writing out this my journal, which I have fashioned to
stick in with my printed work, and to which I intend to
add portions while I remain in this pilgrimage state which,
I find too well, cannot be long.
August 3, 1712.– This morning the hind has brought
me word from Redesdale, whither he had been for coals,
that a stranger gentleman had been traversing that
country, making the most earnest inquiries after me, or
one of the same appearance; and from the description
that he brought of this stranger, I could easily perceive
who it was. Rejoicing that my tormentor has lost traces
of me for once, I am making haste to leave my asylum,
on pretence of following this stranger, but in reality to
conceal myself still more completely from his search.
Perhaps this may be the last sentence ever I am des.
tined to write. If so, farewell Christian reader ! may
God grant to thee a happier destiny than has been allot-
ted to me here on earth, and the same assurance of ac.
ceptance above! Amen.
Ault-Righ, August 24, 1712.-Here am I, set down
on the open moor to add one sentence more to my woful
journal ; and then, farewell all beneath the sun !
On leaving the hind's cottage on the Border, I hasted
to the north-west, because in that quarter I perceived the
highest and wildest hills before me. As I crossed the
mountains above Hawick, I exchanged clothes with a
poor homely shepherd, whom I found lying on a hill side,
singing to himself some woful love ditty. He was glad
of the change, and proud of his saintly apparel ; and I
was no less delighted with mine, by which I now suppos-
ed myself completely disguised; and I found moreover
that in this garb of a common shepherd I was made wel-
come in every house. I slept the first night in a farm-
house nigh to the church of Roberton, without hearing
or seeing aught extraordinary ; yet I observed next
morning that all the servants kept aloof from me, and
regarded me with looks of aversion. The next night I
.


196
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
came to this house, where the farmer engaged me as a
shepherd ; and finding him a kind, worthy, and religious
man, I accepted of his terms with great gladness. I had
not, however, gone many times to the sheep, before all
the rest of the shepherds told my master, that I knew
nothing about herding, and begged of him to dismiss me.
He perceived too well the truth of their intelligence;
but being much taken with my learning, and religious
conversation, he would not put me away, but set me to
herd his cattle.
It was lucky for me, that before I came here, a report
had prevailed, perhaps for an age, that this farm house
was haunted at certain seasons by a ghost. I say it was
lucky for me, for I had not been in it many days before
the same appalling noises began to prevail around me
about midnight, often continuing till near the dawning.
Still they kept aloof, and without doors; for this gentle-
man's house, like the cottage I was in formerly, seemed
to be a sanctuary from all demoniacal power. He ap-
pears to be a good man and a just, and mocks at the idea
of supernatural agency, and he either does not hear these
persecuting spirits, or will not acknowledge it, though of
late he appears much perturbed.
The consternation of the menials has been extreme.
They ascribe all to the ghosts, and tell frightful stories
of murders having been committed there long ago. Of
late, however, they are beginning to suspect that it is I
that am haunted ; and as I have never given them any
satisfactory account of myself, they are whispering that
I am a murderer, and haunted by the spirits of those I
have slain.
August 30.-- This day I have been informed, that I
am to be banished the dwelling-house by night, and to
sleep in an out-house by myself, to try if the family can
get any rest when freed of my presence. I have peremp-
torily refused acquiescence, on which my master's brother
struck me, and kicked me with his foot. My body being
quite exhausted by suffering, I am grown weak and feeble
both in mind and bodily frame, and actually unable to


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
197
resent any insult or injury. I am the child of earthly
misery and despair, if ever there was one existent. My
master is still my friend ; but there are so many masters
here, and every one of them alike harsh to me, that I
wish myself in my grave every hour of the day If I am
driven from the family sanctuary by night, I know I shall
be torn in pieces before morning; and then who will
deign or dare to gather up my mangled limbs, and give
them honoured burial.
My last hour is arrived : I see my tormentor once more
approaching me in this wild. Oh, that the earth would
swallow me up, or the hill fall and cover me! Farewell
for ever!
September 7, 1712.-My devoted, princely, but san-
guine friend, has been with me again and again. My
time is expired, and I find a relief beyond measure, for
he has fully convinced me that no act of mine can mar
the eternal counsel, or in the smallest degree alter or ex-
tenuate one event which was decreed before the founda-
tions of the world were laid. He said he had watched
over me with the greatest anxiety, but perceiving my
rooted aversion towards him he had forborn troubling
me with his presence. But now, seeing that I was
certainly to be driven from my sanctuary that night, and
that there would be a number of infernals watching to
make a prey of my body, he came to caution me not to
despair, for that he would protect me at all risks, if the
power remained with him. He then repeated an ejacu-
latory prayer, which I was to pronounce, if in great ex-
tremity. I objected to the words as equivocal, and sus.
ceptible of being rendered in a meaning perfectly dread-
ful; but he reasoned against this, and all reasoning with
him is to no purpose. He said he did not ask me to re-
peat the words unless greatly straitened ; and that I saw
his strength and power giving way, and when perhaps
nothing else could save me.
Tite dreaded hour of night arrived ; and, as he said,
I was expelled from the family residence, and ordered to
a byre, or cow-house, that stood parallel with the dwell-


198
PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND
ing-house behind, where, on a divot loft, my humble
bedstead stood, and the cattle grunted and puffed below me.
How unlike the splendid halls of Dalcastle! And to what
I am now reduced, let the reflecting reader judge.
September 8.--My first night of trial in this place is
overpast! Would that it were the last that I should
ever see in this detested world! If the horrors of hell
are equal to those I have suffered, eternity will be of
short duration there, for no created energy can support
them for one single month, or week. I have been buffeted
as never living creature was. My vitals have all been
torn, and every faculty and feeling of my soul racked,
and tormented into callous insensibility. I was even hung
by the locks over a yawning chasm, to which I could per-
ceive no bottom, and then_not till then, did I repeat the
tremendous prayer!--I was instantly at liberty ; and
what I now am, the Almighty knows! Amen.
September 18, 1712.-Still am I living, though liker
to a vision than a human being ; but this is my last day
of mortal existence. Unable to resist any longer, I
pledged myself to my devoted friend, that on this day
we should die together, and trust to the charity of the
children of men for a grave. I am solemnly pledged :
and though I dare to repent, I am aware he will not be
gainsaid, for he is raging with despair at his fallen and
decayed majesty, and there is some miserable comfort in
the idea that my tormentor shall fall with me. Farewell,
world, with all thy miseries ; for comforts or enjoyments
hast thou none ! Farewell, woman, whom I have de.
spised and shunned ; and man, whom I have hated;
whom, nevertheless, I desire to leave in charity! And
thou, sun, bright emblem of a far brighter effulgence, I
bid farewell to thee also! I do not now take my last look
of thee, for to thy glorious orb shall a poor suicide's last
earthly look be raised. But, ah ! who is yon that I see
approaching furiously—his stern face blackened with
horrid despair! My hour is at hand.-- Almighty"God,
what is this that I am about to do! The hour of repen-
tance is past, and now my fate is inevitable--- Amen, for


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
199
ever! I will now seal up my little book, and conceal it ;
and cursed be he who trieth to alter or amend !
END OF THE MEMOIR.
What can this work be? Sure, you will say, it must
be an allegory ; or (as the writer calls it) a religious
PARABLE, showing the dreadful danger of self-righteous-
ness? I cannot tell. Attend to the sequel : which is a
thing so extraordinary, so unprecedented, and so far out
of the common course of human events, that if there
were not hundreds of living witnesses to attest the truth
of it, I would not bid any rational being believe it.
In the first place, take the following extract from an
authentic letter, published in Blackwood's Magazine for
August, 1823.
“On the top of a wild height called Faw-Law where
the lands of three proprietors meet all at one point, there
has been for long and many years the grave of a suicide
marked out by a stone standing at the head, and another
at the feet. Often have I stood musing over it myself,
when a shepherd on one of the farms, of which it formed
the extreme boundary, and thinking what could induce a
young man, who had scarcely reached the prime of life, to
brave his Maker, and rush into his presence by an act of
his own erring hand, and one so unnatural and prepos-
terous. But it never once occurred to me, as an object
of curiosity, to dig up the mouldering bones of the culprit,
which I considered as the most revolting of all objects.
The thing was, however, done last month, and a discovery
made of one of the greatest natural phenomena that I
have heard of in this country.
“ The little traditionary history that remains of this
unfortunate youth, is altogether a singular one. He was
not a native of the place, nor would he ever tell from


200
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
what place he came ; but he was remarkable for a deep,
thoughtful, and sullen disposition. There was nothing
against his character that any body knew of here, and he
had been a considerable time in the place. The last ser-
vice he was in was with a Mr Anderson of Eltrive, (Ault.
Righ, the King's burn,) who died about an hundred years
ago, and who had hired him during the summer to herd a
stock of young cattle in Eltrive Hope. It happened one
day in the month of September, that James Anderson, his
master's son, went with this young man to the Hope to di-
vert himself. The herd had his dinner along with him, and
about one o'clock, when the boy proposed going bome,
the former pressed him very hard to stay and take share
of his dinner ; but the boy refused, for fear his parents
inight be alarmed about him, and said he would go home:
on which the herd said to him, " Then, if ye winna stay
with me, James, ye may depend on't I'll cut my throat
afore ye come back again.'
“ I have heard it likewise reported, but only by one
person, that there had been some things stolen out of his
master's house a good while before, and that the boy had
discovered a silver knife and fork, that was a part of the
stolen property, in the herd's possession that day, and
that it was this discovery that drove him to despair.
“ The boy did not return to the Hope that afternoon;
and, before evening, a man coming in at the pass called
The Hart Loup, with a drove of lambs, on the way for
Edinburgh perceived something like a man standing in a
strange frightful position at the side of one of Eldinhope
hay-ricks. The driver's attention was riveted on this
strange uncouth figure, and as the drove-road passed at
- no great distance from the spot, he first called, but recei-
ving no answer, he went up to the spot, and behold it
was the above-mentioned young man, who had hung him-
self in the hay rope that was tying down the rick.
“This was accounted a great wonder ; and every one
said, if the devil had not assisted him it was impossible
the thing could have been done; for, in general, these
ropes are so brittle, being made of green hay, that they


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
201
will scarcely bear to be bound over the rick. And the
more to horrify the good people of this neighbourhood,
the driver said, when he first came in view, he could almost
give his oath that he saw two people busily engaged at
the hay-rick, going round it and round it, and he thought
they were dressing it.
“ If this asseveration approximated at all to truth, it
makes this evident at least, that the unfortunate young
man had hanged himself after the man with the lambs
came in view. He was, however, quite dead when he
cut him down. He had fastened two of the old hay-ropes
at the bottom of the rick on one side, (indeed they are all
fastened so when first laid on,) so that he had nothing to
do but to loosen two of the ends on the other side.
These he had tied in a knot round his neck, and then
slackening his knees, and letting himself down gradually,
till the hay-rope bore all his weight, he had contrived to
put an end to his existence in that way. Now the fact
is, that if you try all the ropes that are thrown over all
the outfield hay-ricks in Scotland, there is not one among
a thousand of them will hang a colley dog ; so that the
manner of this wretch's death was rather a singular cir-
cumstance.
“ Early next morning, Mr Anderson's servants went
reluctantly away, and, taking an old blanket with them
for a winding-sheet, they rolled up the body of the de-
ceased, first in his own plaid, letting the hay-rope still
remain about his neck, and then rolling the old blanket
over all, they bore the loathed remains away to the dis-
tance of three miles or so, on spokes, to the top of
Faw-Law, at the very point where the Duke of Buccleuch's
land, the Laird of Drummelzier's, and Lord Napier's, ..
meet, and there they buried him, with all that he had on
and about him, silver knife and fork and altogether. Thus
far went tradition, and no one ever disputed one jot of
the disgusting oral tale.
“A nephew of that Mr Anderson's who was with the
hapless youth that day he died, says, that, as far as he
can gather from the relations of friends that he reinem-
R 2


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
203
pull out till they cut part of it off with a knife. They
also cut off some portions of his clothes, which were al)
quite fresh, and distributed them among their acquaint-
ances, sending a portion to me, among the rest, to keep
as natural curiosities. Several gentlemen have in a man-
ner forced me to give them fragments of these enchanted
garments : I have, however, retained a small portion for
you, which I send along with this, being a piece of his
plaid, and another of his waistcoat breast, which you
will see are still as fresh as that day they were laid in the
grave.
“ His blue bonnet was sent to Edinburgh several weeks
ago, to the great regret of some gentlemen connected
with the land, who wished to have it for a keep-sake.
For my part, fond as I am of blue bonnets, I declare I
durst not have worn that one. There was nothing of
the silver knife and fork discovered, that I heard of, nor
was it very likely it should : but it would appear he had
been very near run of cash, which I daresay had been the
cause of his utter despair ; for, on searching his pockets,
nothing was found but three old Scots halfpennies. These
young men meeting with another shepherd afterwards,
his curiosity was so much excited that they went and
digged up the curious remains a second time, which was
a pity, as it is likely that by these exposures to the air, and
from the impossibility of burying it up again as closely as
it was before, the flesh will now fall to dust.”
The letter from which the above is an extract, bears
the stamp of authenticity in every line ; yet, so often had
I been hoaxed by the ingenious fancies displayed in that
Magazine, that when this relation met my eye, I did not
believe it; but from the moment that I perused it, I half
formed the resolution of investigating these wonderful
remains personally, if any such existed; for, in the im-
mediate vicinity of the scene, as I supposed, I knew of
more attractive metal than the dilapidated remains of
mouldering suicides.


204
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE,
Accordingly, having some business in Edinburgh in
September last, and being obliged to wait a few days for
the arrival of a friend from London, I took that opportu.
nity to pay a visit to my townsman and fellow collegian,
Mr L- t of C- d, advocate. I mentioned to him
the letter, asking him if the statement was founded at all
on truth. His answer was, “I suppose so. For my
part I never doubted the thing, having been told that there
has been a deal of talking about it up in the Forest for
some time past. But, God knows! Ebony has imposed
as ingenious lies on the public ere now."
" I said, if it was within reach, I should like exceed.
ingly to visit this Scots mummy so ingeniously described.
Mr L- t assented at the first proposal, saying he had
mo objections to take a ride that length with me, that we
would have a delightful jaunt through a romantic and
now classical country, and some good sport into the bar.
gain, provided he could procure a horse for me, froin his
father-in-law, next day. He sent up to a Mr L w to
inquire, who returned for answer, that there was an ex.
cellent pony at my service, and that he himself would
accompany us, being obliged to attend a great sheep fair
at Thirlestane.
At an early hour next morning we started for the ewe
fair of Thirlestane, taking Blackwood's Magazine for Au.
gust along with us. We rode through the ancient royal
burgh of Selkirk, --halted and corned our horses at a ro-
mantic village, nigh to some deep linds on the Ettrick,
and reached the market ground at Thirlestane-green a
Jittle before mid-day.
L- W soon found a guide to the suicide's grave, for
he seemed acquainted with every person in the fair. We
got a fine old shepherd, named
W m B- C, a great
original, and a very obliging and civil man, who asked no
conditions but that we should not speak of it, because he
did not wish it to come to his master's ears, that he had
been engaged in sic a profane thing. We promised strict
secrecy; and, accompanied by another farmer, Mr S.,
and old B -e, we proceeded to the grave, which


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
205
B
e described as about a mile and a half distant from
the market ground.
We soon reached the spot, and I confess I felt a singu-
lar sensation, when I saw the grey stone standing at the
head, and another at the feet, and the one half of the
grave manifestly new digged, and closed up again as had
been described. I could still scarcely deem the thing to be
a reality, for the ground did not appear to be wet, but a
kind of dry rotten moss. On looking around, we found
some fragments of clothes, some teeth, and part of a
pocket-book, which had not been returned into the grave,
when the body had been last raised, for it had been twice
raised before this, but only from the loins upward.
To work we fell with two spades, and soon cleared
away the whole of the covering, The part of the grave
that had been opened before, was filled with mossy mor-
tar, which impeded us exceedingly, and entirely pre-
vented a proper investigation of the fore parts of the
body. I will describe every thing as I saw it before four
respectable witnesses, whose names I shall publish at
large if permitted. A number of the bones came up se-
parately; for with the constant flow of liquid stuff into
the deep grave, we could not see to preserve them in
their places. At length great loads of coarse clothes,
blanketting, plaiding, &c., appeared; we tried to lift
these regularly up, and on doing so, part of a skeleton
came up, but no flesh, save a little that was hanging in
dark flitters about the spine, but which had no consis-
tence; it was merely the appearance of flesh without
the substance. The head was wanting; and I being
very anxious to possess the skull, the search was renew-
ed among the mortar and rags. We first found a part of
the scalp, with the long hair firm on it; which on being
cleaned, is neither black nor fair, but of a darkish dusk,
the most common of any other colour. Soon afterwards
we found the skull, but it was not complete. A spade
had damaged it, and one of the temple quarters was want-
ing. I am no phrenologist, not knowing one organ from
another, but I thought the skull of that wretched man no


206
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
study. If it was particular for any thing, it was for a
smooth, almost perfect rotundity, with only a little pro.
tuberance above the vent of the ear.
When we came to that part of the grave that had never
been opened before, the appearance of every thing was
quite different. There the remains lay under a close
vault of moss, and within a vacant space; and I suppose,
by the digging in the former part of the grave, that part
had been deepened, and drawn the moisture away from
this part, for here all was perfect. The breeches still
suited the thigh, the stocking the leg, and the garters
were wrapt as neatly and as firm below the knee as if
they had been newly tied. The shoes were all opened
in the seams, the hemp having decayed, but the soles,
upper leathers, and wooden heels, which were made of
birch, were all as fresh as any of those we wore. There
was one thing I could not help remarking, that in the in-
side of one of the shoes there was a layer of cow's dung,
about one eighth of an inch thick, and in the hollow of
the sole fully one fourth of an inch. It was firm, green,
and fresh; and proved that he had been working in a
byre. His clothes were all of a singular ancient cut, and
no less singular in their texture. There durability cer.
tainly would have been prodigious : for in thickness,
coarseness, and strength, I never saw any cloth in the
smallest degree to equal them. His coat was a frock
coat, of a yellowish drab colour, with wide sleeves. It
is tweeled, milled, and thicker than a carpet. I cut off
two of the skirts and brought them with me. His vest
was of stripped serge, such as I have often seen worn by
country people. It was lined and backed with white stuff,
The breeches were a sort of stripped plaiding, which I
never saw worn, but which our guide assured us was very
common in the country once, though, from the old clothes
which he had seen remaining of it, he judged that it could
not be less than two hundred years since it was in fashion,
His garters were of worsted, and striped with black or
blue; his stockings gray, and wanting the feet. I brought
samples of all along with me. I have likewise now got


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
207
possession of the bonnet, which puzzles me most of all.
It is not conformable with the rest of the dress. It is
neither a broad bonnet, nor a Border bonnet; for there
is an open behind, for tying, which no genuine Bor-
der bonnet, I am told, ever had. It seems to have
been a Highland bonnet, worn in a flat way like a scone
on the crown, such as is sometimes still seen in the west
of Scotland. All the limbs, from the loins to the toes,
seemed perfect and entire, but they could not bear hand-
ling. Before we got them returned again into the grave,
they were all shaken to pieces, except the thighs, which
continued to retain a kind of flabby form.
All his clothes that were sewed with linen yarn were
lying in separate portions, the thread having rotted ; but
such as were sewed with worsted remained perfectly firm
and sound. Among such a confusion, we had hard
work to find out all his pockets, and our guide supposed,
that, after all, we did not find above the half of them. In his
vest pocket was a long clasp knife, very sharp; the haft
was thin, and the scales shone as if there had been silver
inside. Mr Scất took it with him, and presented it to
his neighbour, Mr R- n of W-n L-e, who still has
it in his possession. We found a comb, a gimblet, a vial,
a small neat square board, a pair of plated knee-buckles,
and several samples of cloth of different kinds, rolled neat-
Jy up within one another. At length, while we were
busy on the search, Mr L t picked up a leathern
case, which seemed to have been wrapped round and
round by some ribbon, or cord, that had been rotten from
it, for the swaddling marks still remained. Both L- w
and B e called out that “it was the tobacco spleuchan,
and a well-filled ane too;" but on opening it out, we found,
to our great astonishment, that it contained a printed
pamphlet. We were all curious to see what sort of a
pamphlet such a person would read; what it could con-
tain that he seemed to have had such a care about ? for
the slough in which it was rolled, was fine chamois
leather; what colour it had been, could not be known.
But the pamphlet was wrapped so close together, and so


208
THE EDITOR'S NARRATIVE.
damp, rotten, and yellow, that it seemed one solid piece.
We all concluded, from some words that we could make
out, that it was a religious tract, but that it would be im-
possible to make any thing of it. Mr L- wremarked
that it was a great pity if a few sentences could not be
made out, for that it was a question what might be con.
tained in that little book; and then he requested Mr
L- at to give it to me, as he had so many things of
literature and law to attend to, that he would never think
more of it. He replied, that either of us were heartily
welcome to it; for that he had thought of returning it
into the grave, if he could have made out but a line or
two, to have seen what was its tendency.
“ Grave, man !” exclaimed L w , who speaks ex.
cellent strong broad Scots: “ My truly, but ye grave
weel! I wad esteem the contents o' that spleuchan as
the most precious treasure. I'll tell you what it is, sir :
I hae often wondered how it was that this man's corpse
has been miraculously preserved frae decay, a hunder
times longer than ony other body's, or than even a tanner's.
But now I could wager a guinea, it has been for the pre-
servation o' that little book. And Lord kens what may
be in't! It will maybe reveal some mystery that mankind
disna ken naething about yet.
“ If there be any mysteries in it," returned the other,
“ it is not for your handling, my dear friend, who are too
much taken up about mysteries already." And with
these words he presented the mysterious pamphlet to me.
With very little trouble, save that of a thorough drying,
I unrolled it all with ease, and found the very tract which
I have here ventured to lay before the public, part of it
in small bad print, and the remainder in manuscript.
With regard to the work itself, I dare not venture a
judgment, for I do not understand it. I believe no
person, man or woman, will ever peruse it with the same
attention that I have done, and yet I confess that I do
not comprehend the writer's drift. It is certainly im-
possible that these scenes could ever have occurred, that
he describes as having himself transacted. I think it


CONFESSIONS OF A FANATIC.
209
may be possible that he had some hand in the death of
his brother, and yet I am disposed greatly to doubt it ;
and the numerous distorted traditions, &c., which remain
of that event, may be attributable to the work having
been printed and burnt, and of course the story known
to all the printers, with their families and gossips. That
the young Laird of Dalcastle came by a violent death,
there remains no doubt; but that this wretch slew him,
there is to me a good deal. However, allowing this to
have been the case, I account all the rest either dream-
ing or madness; or, as he says to Mr. Watson, a religious
parable, on purpose to illustrate something scarcely tan-
gible, but to which he seems to have attached great
weight. Were the relation at all consistent with reason,
it corresponds so minutely with traditionary facts, that it
could scarcely have missed to have been received as
authentic; but in this day, and with the present genera.
tion, it will not go down, that a man should be daily
tempted by the devil, in the semblance of a fellow-crea-
ture; and at length lured to self-destruction, in the hopes
that this same fiend and tormentor was to suffer and fall
along with him. It was a bold theme for an allegory,
and would have suited that age well had it been taken
up by one fully qualified for the task, which this writer
was not. In short, we must either conceive him not
only the greatest fool, but the greatest wretch, on whom
was ever stamped the form of humanity; or, that he was
a religious maniac, who wrote and wrote about a deluded
creature, till he arrived at that height of madness, that
he believed himself the very object whom he had been
all along describing. And in order to escape from an
ideal tormentor, committed that act for which, according
to the tenets he embraced, there was no remission, and
which consigned his memory and his name to everlasting
detestation.
V.


SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES
IN TUR LIPE OF
AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR.
[An Edinburgh Baillie, a notable person, often men.
tioned in Scottish history as the staunch friend of Reform
and the constant friend and abettor of Argyle, was of
northern descent, and the original name of his family is
said to have been Sydeserf. The first who wrote his
name Sydeserf was one always styled Clerk Michael, who
was secretary, chamberlain, and steward to the Earl Ma.
rischal. His second son, Andrew, was made procurator
of the Marischal College, where, it is presumed, he re-
mained during his life, as it appears that our hero, Ar-
chibald, with eight other brothers and sisters, were born
in that place. On the death of this Andrew, the family
appears to have been all scattered abroad; and about that
period Archibald was translated to Edinburgh, as under.
secretary to the governor of the castle. He was a learn.
ed youth as times then went, and so were his brethren,
for one of them was afterwards made a bishop, and one
of them a professor, not to mention the subject of this
memoir, who arrived at the highest distinction of them
all. Two or more of those brothers left written memoirs
of their own times, as was the fashion of the age with all
who could indite a page a-day, witness the number of vo.
luminous tomes that lie piled in every college of the con-
tinent as well as in some of the public libraries of Britain.


212
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
darkness from light--I was enclosed in a medium be.
tween them.
When I came first there, Haggard, who had great
need of me, promised me this good thing and the other
good thing, so that my heart was lifted up ;—but, alas!
soon was it sunk down again in gall and bitterness, for
every thing was in utter confusion. In that dark abode
I had the whole accounts of the expenditure of the for.
tress to keep, and the commissariat department to con-
duct. There were the State prisoners sending proudly
for their allowances,--the soldiers cursing for their pay,
and clerks every hour with long accounts of which they
demanded payment. I had nothing to pay them with,
and in the mean time our caterers in the city took the
coercive measures with us of stopping all our supplies
until their arrears were paid up. Haggard did no more
than just order such and such things to be done, without
considering in the least how they were to be done. Then
every one came running on me, while I had for the most
part little or nothing to give them, and all that I could
do was to give them orders on this or the other fund,
which orders never were executed, and of course matters
grew worse and worse every day.
As for Colonel Haggard, he was a beast, a perfect bull
of Bashan ;-he came daily with open mouth upon me, roar-
ing and swearing like a maniac. It was in vain to reason
with him, that made him only worse, and had he held
with cursing and damning me, although I abhored that
custom, it would not have been so bad. But he thought
nothing of striking with whatever came to his hand, and
that with such freedom, that it was evident he cared no-
thing at all for the lives of his fellow-creatures.
One day he came upon me fuming and raging as usual,
and without either rhyme or reason inquired, “why I
did not pay this debt?" and, “why I did not pay the
other debt?" and “ was he to be dunned and plagued
eternally by the carelessness and indifference of a beggar.
ly clerk-a dirty pen-scraper, a college weazel, a north-
ern rat?" and called me many other beastly names besides.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE,
213
“Sir,” says I, “ if your honour will suffer the whole
of the funds to come through my hands, I will be ac-
countable for every fraction of them. But as you draw
the largest share yourself, and spend that as you think
fit, how am I to carry on my department ? Let them
all be paid to you if you choose, and make the pay-
ments through me, of which I shall keep a strict account;
unless they come all through my hands I will neither
receive nor remit any more."
He paid no attention, but went on as if he had not
even heard the remonstrance, “If the onward detail of the
business of the castle is to be interrupted in this manner
by your obstinacy and awkwardness,—by the absurdity
of such a contemptible urchin,—then, it is evident, that
all subordination and prerogative is at an end, and there
must be a regular turn out. But before this shall hap-
pen, you may depend on it, Mr Puppy, that you shall
suffer first. We are not all to lose our places for you."
“I have paid all that I have, your honour, I have
not even retained a merk for my own outlay; therefore,
I will trouble your goodness for my own arrears, else I
give the business up forthwith.”
" You? You give the business up ? You, the bound
servant and slave of the State, as much as the meanest
soldier under my command ? Such another word out
of your mouth, and I'll have you whipped. Hint but to
go and leave your post, and I'll have you hung at the
castle gate. You go and desert your post ?- Let me
see you attempt it. I would, indeed, like to see you run
off like a norland tike! Pah. You gimcrack!-You
cat! Pay up the arrears of the garrison instantly, I
say.- Are the State prisoners, the first men of the land,
to lack their poor allowance, that you may lay up the
king's money by you, and make a fortune ? Are the
military to starve, that a scratchpenny may thrive? Is
this business to go to sixes and sevens for your pleasure?
I will have you tried for your life, you dog, before a
military tribunal.”
There was no reasoning with such a beast, therefore
s 2


214
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
I was obliged to hold my peace : I cared for no trial,
for my books were open to any who chose to examine
them, and I could account for every bodle that had been
paid to me; and as for the superior of whom I was the
substitute, he never showed face at all, nor was he even
in Scotland. He merely enjoyed the post as a sinecure,
while the toil and responsibility fell on me. From that
time forth, I had a disgust at our king James, and his
government, and considered him no better than an old
wife, and from that time to this on which I write down
the memorial of these things, I have never been recon.
ciled to him or one of his race.
But to return to my business at the castle : I was
very miserable, my state was deplorable, for I had not
one of the comforts of life; and so jealous was the gover.
nor, that for the most part neither ingress nor egress was
allowed. My bed was a mat in the corner of my cham-
ber, and my bed-clothes consisted of a single covering
not thicker than a wormweb. If I had worn it as a veil,
I could have seen all about me. It may be considered
how grievous this was to me, who had all my life been
used to a good rush or heather bed in my father's house,
and a coverlet worked as thick as a divot. How I did
long to be at home again ! Ay, many a salt tear did I
shed when none out of Heaven saw but myself, and many
an ardent prayer did I put up for the kind friends I left
behind me. At the same time, I resolved every day
and every night to have some revenge on my brutal
tyrant. I cherished the feeling with delight, and was
willing to undergo any hardship, so that I might see my
desire fulfilled on mine enemy. An opportunity at
length offered, which proved a hard trial for me,
Among many illustrious prisoners, we had no less a
man than the Marquess of Huntly; and, as the Lord
Chancellor was his great friend, his confinement was not
severe. By the reforming party it was meant to be rigid;
but by the Catholic and high-church party, quite the
reverse. With them it was merely a work of necessity,
and they had resolved to bring the Marquess off with


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
215
flying colours, but a little time was necessary to ripen
their schemes. He was a great and powerful nobleman,
and had struggled against the reformers all his life,
plaguing them not a little, but ran many risks of his life,
notwithstanding. And had our king, with all his logic,
not been, as I said, merely an old wife in resolution, he
never would have suffered that obstreperous nobleman to
live so long as he did ; for he thought nothing of defy.
ing the king and all his power; and once, in the High-
lands, came against the king's forces and cut them all to
pieces. He also opposed the good work of reformation
so long and so bitterly that the General Assembly were
obliged to excommunicate him.
My forefathers being men of piety, I was bred in the
strictest principles of the Reformation ; consequently
the Marquess of Huntly was one whom I had always re-
garded with terror and abhorrence ; so that when I
found him, as it were, under my jurisdiction, I was any.
thing but grieved, and I thought to myself, that with
God's help, we might keep him from doing more ill for a
time.
But lo and behold, a commission of the lords was sum-
moned to meet at Edinburgh, headed by young Argyle
and Hamilton, and it being obvious that the interest of
the reformers was to carry every thing before it, the ma-
lignant party grew terribly alarmed for the life of the old
Marquess, their most powerful support, and determined
on making a bold effort for his delivery. Accordingly,
a deputation of noblemen came to our worthy deputy
one evening, with a written order from the Lord Chan-
cellor for Huntly's liberation. Haggard would not obey
the order, but cursed and swore that it was a forgery, and
put all the gentlemen in ward together, to stand a trial
before the lords commissioners.
The Marquess's family had been allowed to visit him,
for they lived in the Canongate, and were constantly
coming and going ; and that night Lady Huntly comes
to me, and pretends great friendship for me, names me
familiarly by name, and says that she has great respect


216
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
for all the Sydeserfs. Then she says, “That deputy
governor of yours is a great bear.”
“ We must take him for the present as he is, madam,
for lack of a better,” says I.
" That is very wisely and cautiously spoken by you,
young gentleman,” said the Marchioness. But it is for
lack of a better. How would you like to be Deputy
Governor yourself, and to have the sole command here?
I have the power to hang your scurvy master over a post
before to-morrow night.”
" That would be a very summary way of proceeding
certainly, madam,” said I.
“I can do it, and perhaps will do it,” added she ;
Cobut in the mean time I must have a little assistance
from you."
Aha! thinks I to myself, this is some popish plot,
Now Bauldy Sydeserf, since ladies will have your name,
take care of yourself; for well do you know that this
old dame is a confirmed papist, and wide and wasteful
has the scope of her malignancy been ! Bauldy Syde-
serf, take care of yourself.
“ You do not answer me,” continued she. “ If you
will grant me a small favour, I promise to you to have
your tyrannical master made away with, and to better your
fortune one way or another."
“ You are not going to murder him, I hope, please
your Highness ?” said I
“ Made away with from his post, I mean only,” said
she, “ in order that one better and younger, and more
genteel than he, may be endowed with it.”
“Oh! is that all, madam ?" said I.
" Why ?" said she, “would you wish to have him
assassinated ? I have a hundred resolute men in my
husband's interest within the castle that will do it for one
word.”
Being horrified for papists, I thought she was come
merely to entrap me, and get my head cut off likewise ;
and though I confess I should not have been very sorry
to have seen the Catholics wreak their fury on my brutal


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE. 217
tyrant, I thought it most safe to fight shy. “ Pray in
what can I serve you, madam ?" said I; “ If it is by
betraying any trust committed to me, or bringing any
person into danger but myself, do not ask it, for, young
as I am, nothing shall induce me to comply."
“ What a noble and heroic mind in one so very young !
You were born to be a great man, Mr Secretary !” said
the cunning dame ; “I see it, and cannot be mistaken.
Pray tell me this, brave young gentleman-Is my lord's
correspondence with Spain, and with the Catholic lords
in 1606, in your custody ?"
“ They are both in my custody at present, madam,”
said I ; “but I have no power to show you those letters,
it being solely by chance that the keys happen to be in
my possession. I got them to search for a certain war.
rant, and they have not been again demanded."
“I want to have those papers up altogether, that they
may be destroyed,” said she ; " that is my great secret.
If you will put them into my hands to-night, you have
only to name the conditions."
“I put them into your hands, madam !” said I;
“Good Lord! I would not abstract those documents for
all the wealth of the realm."
“Pray of what value are they?" returned she. “ Of
none in the world to any one, save that they may bring
ruin on my lord and his family, at his approaching trial.
Your wretched governor will never miss them; and if he
should, the blame of losing them will fall on him."
This last remark staggered me not a little, because it
was perfectly true ; but I held my integrity, and begged
her not to mention the subject again, for no bribe should
induce me to comply : she then tossed her head, and
looked offended, and added, that she was sorry I was so
blind to my own interest, though I was so to the very
existence of the greatest family of my own country ; and
then, with an audible sigh, she left me, muttering a
threat as she went out. I was so much affected by it,
that I have never forgot her words or inanner to this
hour.


218
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
“ Oh-oh-oh! and is it thus ?" said she, drawing
up her silken train : “ Oh-oh-oh ! and is it thus ?
Well, young man, you shall be the first that shall rue
it ," and with that she shut the door fiercely behind
her.
“ Lord preserve me from these papists !” said I, most
fervently. “What will become of me now? I would
rather come under the power of the devil than under their
power any time, when they have their own purposes to
serve." I however repented me of this rash saying, and
prayed for forgiveness that same night. This conversa-
tion with the Marchioness made so deep an impression on
my mind, that I durst not lie down on my wretched
bed, but bolted my door firmly, and sat up, thrilled with
anxiety at having run my head into a noose, by offend-
ing the most potent family in the land, and one, for all
its enemies, that had the greatest power. Had they
been true Protestants and reformers, I would have risked
my neck to have saved them; as it was, I had done my
duty, and no more.
While I was sitting in this dilemma, reasoning with
myself, behold a gentle tap-tap-tap came on the door.
My heart leaped to my shoulder bone, and stuck so
fast that I could not speak. Another attack of the papists,
thought I, and that after the dead hour of midnight too!
I am a gone man! Tap-tap-tap! “ Come in,” said
I, that is, my lips said it, but my voice absolutely refused
its office ; for instead of the sound coming out, it went
inwards. I tried it again like one labouring with the
night-mare, and at last effected a broken sound of “come
in, come in.”
"I cannot get in,” said a sweet voice outside the door.
“ Pray are you in bed?"
“N-n-no,” said I, “ I am not in bed.”
“ Then open the door directly,” said the same sweet
voice ; “I want to speak with you expressly.”
“ What do you wish to say ?" said I.
“ Open the door and you shall hear,” said she.
“ Jane is that you ?” said I.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
219
- “ Yes. it is,” said she. “You are right at last. It is
indeed Jane."
“ Then what the devil are you seeking here at this
time of the morning ?" said I, pulling back the bolts and
opening the door, thinking it was our milkwoman's
daughter, when behold there entered with a smile and a
courtesy the most angelic being I ever saw below the
sun. I at first thought she was an angel of light ; a
being of some purer and better world ; and if I was
bamboozled before, I was ten times worse now. I could
not return her elegant courtesy, for my backbone had
grown as rigid as a thorn, and my neck, instead of bend-
ing forward, in token of obeisance, actually cocked back-
ward. I am an old man now, and still I cannot help
laughing at my awkward predicament, for there I stood
gaping and bending, and my eyes like to leap out of my
face, and fly on that of the lovely object that stood smil-
ing before me.
“I think you do not recollect Jane now when you see
her,” said she, playfully.
“N-n-no, ma'am,” said I, utterly confounded. “I
1-took you for the skudjie. I beg pardon, ma'am,
but I am very muckle at a loss.”—That was my disgust-
ing phrase, I have not forgot it." I am very muckle at
a loss, ma'am,” says I.
“Muckle at a loss are you?” said she. “ Verra
muckle too ? That's what you maunna be, honest lad.”
(She was mocking me.) “My name is Jeanie Gordon.
You may, perhaps, have heard tell of Jeanie Gordon. I
am the youngest daughter of the Marquess of Huntly,
and your name is, I presume, Bauldy Sydeserf. Is that
it?"
I bowed assent, on which she fell into such a fit of
laughter, and seemed to enjoy the sport with such zest,
that I was obliged to join her, and I soon saw she had
that way with her that she could make any man do just
what she pleased.
“ It is a snug, comfortable, sort of name," said she ;
“I like the name exceedingly, and I like the young gen-


220
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
tleman that wears it still better. My mother told me
that you were exceedingly genteel, sensible, and well
bred! She was right. I see it--I see it. Verra
muckle in the right.”
My face burned to the bone at the blunder I had
made, for in general I spoke English very well, with
haply a little of the Aberdeen accent, and there was a
little bandying of words passed here that I do not perfect.
ly recollect, but I know they were not greatly to my
credit. As for Lady Jane, she went on like a lark,
changing her note every sentence; but she had that art
and that winning manner with her, that never woman in
this world shall again inherit in such perfection. So I
thought, and so I think to this day; for even when she
was mocking me, and making me blush like crimson, I
could have kissed the dust of her feet. She brought on
the subject of the refusal I had given her mother, ridi.
culed it exceedingly, flew from it again, and chatted of
something else, but still as if she had that and every thing
else in the nation at her control. Heaven knows how
she effected her purpose, but in the course of an hour's
conversation, without ever letting me perceive that she
was aiming at any object, she had thoroughly impressed
me with the utter insufficiency of the king in all that
concerned the affairs of the State, and the uncontrollable
power of the House of Huntly. “My father is too po-
tent not to have many enemies,” said she," and he has
many, but it is not the 'king that he fears, but a cabal in
the approaching committee of the estates. Not for him.
self, but for fear of the realm's peace, does he dread
them ; for there is not a canting hypocrite among them
that dares lift his eye to Huntly. He can lead a young
man to fortune, as many he has led, but how can the
poor caballing lords do such a thing, when every one is
scratch, scratching for some small pittance to himself.
His enemies, as you know, have brought a miserable ac-
cusation against him, of hindering his vassals from hear-
ing such ministers as they chose, and with former corres-
pondence which was all abrogated in open court, they


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
221
hope to ruin the best, the kindest, and the greatest man
of the kingdom. The letters are already cancelled by
law, but when subjects take the law into their own hand,
right and justice are at an end. Do you give these
papers to me. You will never again have such an op-
portunity of doing good, and no blame can ever attach
to you."
“I would willingly lay down my life for you madam,”
said I, but my honour I can never.”
“Fuss! honour! said she, “ your honour has no more
concern in it than mine has, and not half so much. You
say you would lay down your life for me, but if you
would consider the venerable and valuable life which
you are endangering! If you would consider the opulent
and high born family which you are going to sacrifice out
of mere caprice!” I could not help shedding some tears
at this bitter reflection; she perceived my plight, and
added, “ did you ever see the nobleman whose life and
domains you now have it in your power to save from the
most imminent risk ?” I answered that I never had
had that honour. • Come with me, then, and I will in-
troduce you to my father,” said she.
“No-no-no-ma'am !” said I, mightily flustered.
“No-no-no-I would rather be excused if you
please."
“ What ?” said she, “refuse the first step to honour
that ever was proffered to you? Refuse the highest
honour that a commoner can hope for, an introduction
to George, Marquess of Huntly ?”
“ But then, ma'am, I have nothing ado with his high-
ness,” said I, “ I have no favour to ask of hiin, and none
to grant."
“ Hold your peace," said she, “and if you have any
wish that you and I should ever be better acquainted,
come with me.”
That was a settler; I could make no answer to that, for
my heart was already so much overcome by the divine
perfections of the lady, that I viewed her as a being of a
superior nature-a creature that was made to be adored
.


222
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
and obeyed. She took my hand, and though, perhaps,
I hung a little backward, which I think I did, I never-
theless followed on like a dog in a string! There were
two guards in attendance, who, lifting their bonnets, let
Lady Jane pass ; but the second seized me by the breast,
thrust me backward, and asked me whither I was going
so fast? I was very willing to have turned, but in a
moment Lady Jane had me again by the hand, and with
one look she silenced the centinel. “ This is the secre.
tary of the castle," said she, “ who has some arrears to
settle with my father before he leaves his confinement,
which he does immediately.”
I had now, as I thought, got my cue, and so brighten-
ing up, I says, “ Yes, Sir, I am the secretary of the castle,
and I have a right to come and go where and how I
please, Sir,” says I.
“ The devil you have, Sir,” says he.
“ Yes, the devil I have, Sir," says I; and I will let
you know, Sir-
“ Hush,” said Lady Jane, smiling, and laying her
delicate hand on my mouth, “this is no place or time
for altercation," I however, gave the guardsman a proud
look of defiance, and squeezed some words of the same
import through the lady's fingers, to let him know whom
he had to do with, for I was so proud of 'squiring Lady
Jane Gordon down the stair and along the trance, that I
wanted to make the fellows believe I was no small beer.
In one second after that, we were in the presence of
the great Marquess of Huntly, and in one word I never
have yet seen a sight so venerable, so imposing, and at
the same time so commanding, as that old hero, surround-
ed by the ladies of his family and one of his sons whom
he called Adam. I shall never forget the figure, eye
and countenance of the Marquess. He appeared to be
about fourscore years of age, though I was told after.
wards that he was not so much. His hair was of a dark,
glittering, silver grey, and his eyes were dark, and as
piercing, haughty, and independent as those of the blue
hawk. They were like the eyes of a man in the fire


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE. 223
and impatience of youth, and yet there appeared to be a
sunny gleam of kindness and generosity, blended with all
the sterner qualities of human nature. If ever I saw a
figure and face that indicated a mind superior to his
fellow-creatures, they were those of George the first
Marquess of Huntly. And more than that, he seemed
almost to be adored by his family, which I have found on
long experience to be a good sign of a man. Those that
are daily and hourly about him are the best judges of his
qualifications, and if he is not possessed of such as are
estimable, he naturally loses the respect due to inherent
worth. He wore a wide coat of a cinnamon colour, and
he was ruffled round the shoulders and round the hands.
He received me with perfect good nature, ease and indif-
ference, in much the same way any gentleman would re-
ceive a neighbour's boy that had popped in on him; and
spoke of indifferent matters, sometimes to me and some.
times to his daughters. He spoke of my father and
grandfather, and all the Sydeserfs that ever lived; but I
remember little that passed, for to my astonishment I
found that there were two Jeanie Gordons-two young
ladies so exactly the same that I thought I could have
defied all the world to distinguish the one from the other.
There was not a shade of difference that eye could dis-
cern, neither in stature nor complexion: and as for their
dresses, there was not a flower-knot, a flounce, nor a
seam in the one that was not in the other. Every thing
was precisely the same. Whenever I fixed my eyes on
one, I became convinced that she was my own Lady
Jane, to whom I looked for a sort of patronage in that
high community ; but if ever by chance my look rested
on the face of the other, my faith began'to waver, and in
a very short time again my direction centered on that one.
It was the most extraordinary circumstance that I had
ever seen or heard of. It seems these two young ladies
were twin sisters, and as they surpassed all their contem.
poraries of the kingdom in beauty, insomuch that they
were the adıniration of all that beheld them, so were they
also admired by all for their singular likeness to eaciu


224
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
other. For the space of six months after they came
from nursing, their parents could not distinguish them
from each other, and it was suspected they had changed
their names several times. But after they came home
from Paris, where they were at their education for seven
years, neither their father nor brothers ever knew them
from each other again. They generally, at their father's
request, wore favours of different colours on their breasts,
but by changing these and some little peculiarities of
dress, they could at any time have deceived the whole
family, and many a merry bout they had at cross pur-
poses on such occasions. It was often remarked that
Huntly, when fairly mistaken, would never yield, but
always persisted in calling Mary-Jane, and Jane- Mary,
till deceived into the right way again. So much beauty
and elegance I have never seen, and never shall contem-
plate again; and I found that I had lost my heart. Still
it was to Lady Jane that I had lost it, although I could
not distinguish the one from the other.
I must now return to my narrative, taking up the story
where I can, as I really never did recollect almost ought
of what passed in that august presence, where one would
have thought I should have remembered every thing.
The Marchioness, I noticed, showed no condescension
to me, but appeared proud, haughty and offended; and
when she spoke of me to her lord, she called me that
person. My angel Lady Jane (whichever was she) had
now lost all her jocularity and flippancy of speech; there
was nothing but mimness and reserve in the Marquess's
presence. At length, on my proposing to retire, the
Marquess addressed me something to the following purport.
“ I believe, Sir, Lady Huntly and one of my daughters
have been teasing you for some old papers at present in
your custody. I will not say that they might not have
been of some import to me in the present crisis, but I
commend your integrity and faith in the charge commit.
ted to you. You are doing what is right and proper and
whatever may be the consequence, take no more thought
about the matter.'


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
225
· Here Lady Jane made some remark about the great
consequence of these papers, on which he subjoined ra-
ther tartly' “ I tell you, Jane, I don't regard the plots of
my enemies. I can now leave this place when I
please, and I shall soon, very soon, be beyond their
reach."
The young lady shed a flood of tears, on which I said,
that if I had the Deputy Governor's permission, I would
with pleasure put these papers into his Lordship’s hand.
* No,” said he ; “ I would not be obliged to such a bear
for them, though certain that they were to save my
head."
Lady Huntly said something bitterly about asking fa.
vours of low people, but he checked her with " No, no,
Henny! not another word on the subject. You have
acted quite right, young man. Good night.”
I was then obliged to take myself off, which I did with
one of my best bows, which was returned only by Lady
Mary: all the rest remained stiff and upright in their po.
sitions. Lady Jane followed me, saying, “ I must con-
duct him through the guards again, else there will be
bloodshed.” My heart thrilled with joy. She went
with me to my apartment, and then asked me, with tears
in her eyes, if I was going to let that worthy and vene-
rable nobleman suffer on a scaffold for such a trifle. I
tried to reason, but my heart was lost, and I had little
chance of victory; so at length I said I durst not for my
life give them up, unless I instantly made my escape out
of the castle. She said that was easily effected, for I
should go out in her father's livery to-morrow morning,
and for that part, she could conceal me for the remain-
der of the night; she added, that once I was out, and
under Huntly's protection and her's—I waited for no
more ;-" once you are out, and under Huntly's pro-
tection and mine," said she-I flew away to the register
chest, where I had seen the papers but the day before,
and soon found them in two triple sealed parcels, with
these labels, Huntly's TREASONABLE CORRESPONDENCE
WITH SPAIN. Ditto WITH THE CATHOLICK LORDS, &c.,--
I 2


226
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
and flying away with them, I put them into the hands of
Lady Jane Gordon.
That was the most exquisite moment of my life-
true, I had played the villain ; but no matter; I have ne.
ver enjoyed so happy a moment since that time. Lady
Jane seized the papers with an eagerness quite indescri-
bable-she hugged them- she did not know where to
hide them, but seemed to wish them within her breast.
Gratitude beamed, nay it flashed in every angelic feature,
till at length unable to contain herself, she burst into
tears, flung her arms round my neck, and kissed me!
Yes, I neither write down a falsehood, nor exaggerate in
the least degree; I say the beauty of the world, the envy
of courts, and the mistress of all hearts, once, and but
once, kissed my lips ! kissed the lips of the then young,
vain, and simple Bauldy Sydeserf. It was a dear kiss
to me! but no more of that at present.
After this rapturous display, Lady Jane looked me no
more in the face, but flew from me with the prize she
had obtained, bidding me good night, without looking be-
hind her. It was evident she deemed she had got a boon
of her father's life. But there was I left in my dark,
hateful chamber all alone, to reflect on what I had done.
May the Lord never visit any of his faithful servants
with such a measure of affliction, as it was my lot that
night to bear. I cannot describe it, but I think I was in
a burning fever, and all for perfect terror. I had for.
feited life land honour, and all to serve an old papist, the
greatest enemy of the blessed work of Reformation in the
whole kichgdom; and what gratitude or protection was I
to expect from the adherents to that cursed profession?
Alas! not to the extent of a grain of mustard seed. Then
I fell into a troubled slumber, and had such dreams of
Haggardl hanging me and cutting off my head, until wak-
ing I lay groaning like one about to expire until day-
light ene tered. I then rose and began to cast about how
I shouðld make my escape ; for I knew if I remained in
my sitieuation another day I was a gone man. The castle
being ata state prison at that time, there was no possibility


REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
227
of making an escape from it, without a warrant from the
authorities; and I had begun to patch up a speech in my
defence, which I was going to deliver before my judge,
as soon as the papers were missed. But then, on con-
sidering that there would as certainly be another speech
to compose for the scaffold, full of confessions and pray-
ers for my enemies, Haggard among the rest, I lost heart
altogether, and fell to weeping and lamenting my hard
fate.
While I was in the midst of this dilemma, behold there
was a sharp, surly rap came on my door. I opened it in
the most vehement perturbation of spirits, and saw there
for certain an officer of justice, clad in his insignia of office.
“ Master," says he,“ is your name Mr. Secretary Side-
sark?"
“ Yes, Sir," says I, “that is no; my name is not Side-
sark, although it sounds a little that way.”
“ Well, well, back or side, short or long, it makes little
difference,” says he; “ I have a little business with you.
You go with me.”
* What ! to prison ?” says I.
“ Yes to the prison,” says he ; “ to be sure, where else
but to the prison in the mean time ?"
" Very well, Sir,” says I ; “ show me your warrant
then,” says I.
“ Certainly," says he ; “ here is my warrant," and
with that he turned into a corner of the trance, and lift-
ed a large bundle " there it is, master; you understand
me now."
“No, on my faith and honour and conscience, I do
pot,” said I. " What warrant is that ?”
“Open and see, master, open and see,” said he, wip-
ing his brow; “pray have you any thing in the house
that will drink? Yes, open and see ; ay, that way, that
way. Now you will soon get into the heart and midriff
of the mystery.”
On opening the parcel, I found a splendid livery com-
plete, of green and gold, and my heart began to vibrate
to the breathings of hope. “ Now, Sir, make haste,"


223
LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
said my visitor ; “ make haste, make haste. You under
stand me; now dress yourself instantly in these habili-
ments, and go with me. The family waits for you.
You are to walk behind Lady Jane, and carry her fardel,
or mantle perhaps, or some trifle. We two shall likely
be better acquainted. My name is David Peterkin, Mr
Peterkin, you know, of course, Mr Peterkin. I am head
butler in the family, steward's butler that is. You are
to be gentleman-usher to the young ladies, I presume !"
Thus his tongue went on without intermission, while
I dressed myself, unable to speak many words, so uplift-
ed was my heart. I left my clothes, linens, every thing
-my key in my desk—and the key of the register-chest
within the desk, lying uppermost ; and bringing all the
public money that was in my possession away with me,
as part of my arrears of wages, I followed Mr David
Peterkin to the apartments where I had been the night
before.
Huntly's power and interest had been very great in
the State at that time, notwithstanding his religious
tenets, of which the popular party, his sworn enemies,
made a mighty handle, in order to ruin him. They had
got him seized and lodged in the castle, thinking to bring
him to his trial, at which fair play was not intended, but
he had the interest to procure the Lord Chancellor's war-
rant for the removal of himself and suite from the castle,
without lett or hindrance, on condition that he confined
himself three weeks to his own house in the Canongate,
to wait the charges brought against him. Haggard, the
deputy-governor, who was the tool of the other party,
refused to act on this warrant, pretending it was forged ;
but the very next day Huntly's interest again prevailed.
He was not only liberated, but the outrageous Haggard
was seized and lodged in gaol, on what grounds I never
heard exactly explained. Indeed it was long ere I knew
that such an event had taken place, and if I had, it
would have saved me a world of terror and trouble.
I followed the family of Huntly to the Canongate, but
to my grief found that I had nothing to do save to eat


REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
229
and drink. I was grieved exceedingly at this, weening
that they had no trust to put in me ; as how could they
well, considering that I had come into their service by
playing the rogue. I kept myself exceedingly close, for
fear of being seized for the malversation committed in
the castle, and never went out of doors, save when the
young ladies did, which was but seldom. A great deal of
company flocked to the house. It was never empty from
morning to night ; for my part, I thought there had not
been so many nobility and gentry in the whole kingdom,
as came to pay court to the Marquess, his sons, his lady,
and his daughters; for all of them had their suitors, and
that without number. That house was truly like the
court of a sovereign ; and there were so many grooms,
retainers, and attendants of one kind and another, that to
this hour I never knew how many there were of us. We
were an idle, dissipated, loquacious set, talking without
intermission, and never talking any thing but nonsense,
low conceits, ribaldry, and all manner of bad things; and
there neither was man nor woman among them all that
had half the education of myself. I would have left the
family in a short time, had it not been for one extraor-
dinary circumstance-I was in love with my mistress !
Yes, as deeply in love with Lady Jane Gordon as ever
man was with maid, from the days of Jacob and Rachel
unto this day on which I write. I had likewise strong
hopes of reciprocal affection, and ultimate success ; but
an humble dependant as I then was, how could I declare
my love, or how reward my mistress, if accepted ? No
matter. A man cannot help that strongest of all pas-
sions. For my part, I never attempted it; but finding
myself too far gone in love to retreat, I resolved to give
my passion full swing, and love with all my heart and
soul, which I did. Strange as it may appear, I loved
only Lady Jane,--she that embraced me, and gave me
a kiss,—but yet I never could learn to distinguish her
from her sister ; and I was almost sure that whenever I
began to declare my passion, I was to do it to the wrong
one. I hated Lord Gordon, her eldest brother, who was


230
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
the proudest man that I had ever seen, and dreaded that he
never would consent to an union between his sister and
one of the Sydesert's. I was sure he would shoot me, or
try to do it, but thought there might be means found of
keeping out of his way or of giving him as good as he gave.
Lady Jane Gordon I was determined to attempt and her
I was determined to have.
All this time I heard no word from the castle, and be.
gan to be a little more at my ease ; still I never ventured
out of doors, save once or twice that I followed the young
ladies, for I always attached myself to them, and to Lady
Jane, as far as I could distinguish. Having saved a
share of money in the castle, I ordered a suit of clothes
befitting a gentleman, and whenever a great dinner oc-
curred, I dressed myself in that, and took my station
behind Lady Jane's chair, but without offering to put my
hand to anything. Lord Gordon, or Enzie as they called
him, noted me one day, and after I went out inquired
who I was. This was told me by one of the valets.
Neither the Marquess nor Lady Huntly answered a
word, but both seemed a little in the fidgets at
the query : but Lady Jane, after glancing round the
whole apartment answered her brother, that I was a
young gentleman, a man of education and good qualities,
who had done her a signal piece of service. That I had
since that time attached myself to the family, but they
did not choose to put me to any menial employment.
On this the proud spirit of Lord Enzie rose, and he first
jeered his angelic sister spitefully for requiring secret
pieces of service from young gentlemen and men of edu.
cation; and then he cursed me and all such hangers-on.
I never was so proud of any speech in the world as
that of Lady Jane's, which made my blood rise still the
more at the pride and arrogance of Lord Gordon; and I
hoped some time in my life to be able to chastise him in
part for his insolence. Whether or not these hopes were
realized, I leave to all who read this memoir to judge.
Shortly after that, Lady Jane went out to walk one
fine day, with her brother Lord Adam Gordon ; 1 fol.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
231
lowed, as I was wont, at a respectful distance, clad in
my splendid livery. In the royal bounds east of the
palace, Lord Adam had noted me, for I saw him and his
sister talking and looking back to me alternately. He
was the reverse of his elder brother, being an easy, good-
natured, and gentlemanly being as ever was born, with
no great headpiece as far as I ever could learn. Lady
Jane called me up to her, and asked me if we could pass
over to the chapel on the hill at the nearest. I saw Lord
Adam eyeing me with the most intense curiosity, as I
thought, which made me blush like crimson; but I
answered her ladyship readily enough, and in proper
English, without a bit of the Aberdeen brogue. I said,
“I cannot tell, Lady Jane, as I never crossed there, but
I suppose it is quite practicable.”
“ Humph !" exclaimed Lord Adam, rather surprised
at so direct and proper an answer.
“ Then will you be so good as carry this fur mantle
for me, Mr Archibald ?" said she, “ as I propose to climb
the hill with Auchendoun.” “ Yes, Lady Jane," said I.
“ But will it not warm you too much ?'' added she.
“Because, if it will, I'll make my brother Adam carry it
piece about with you."
I could make no answer, I was so overcome with de-
light at hearing that she put me on an equality with her
brother; but taking the splendid mantle from her, I
folded it neatly, took it over my arm, and took my res-
pectful distance again. It was not long before the two
were stopped by the extreme wetness of the bog, on
which Lady Jane turned back ; Lord Adam took hold of
her, and would not let her, but wanted to drag her into
the bog. She struggled with him playfully, and then
called on me. “ This unreasonable man will insist on
my wading through this mire,” said she ; “pray, Mr. Ar-
chibald, could you find me a few steps, or contrive any
way of taking me over dry shod.”
“Yes, I can, Lady Jane,” said I, throwing off my
strong shoes, and setting them down at her ladyship's
feet in one moment.


232
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
“Humph !” said Lord Adam, more surprised at my
cleverness and good breeding than ever.
I believe she meant me to have carried her over in
my arms, a practise very common in the neighbourhood
of Edinburgh then. I believed so at the time, but I con-
trived a far more genteel and respectful method. She
put on the shoes above her fine ones, smiling with ap-
probation, and stepped over dry and clean, while I was
obliged to wade over in my white stockings, which gave
them an appearance as if I had on short boots. As soon
as she got over to the dry hill, she returned me my shoes,
thanked me, and said I was a much more gallant man
than Auchendoun, who had so small a share of it, that
she was sure he would live and die an old bachelor; but
that I would not.
It is impossible at this time of life, when my blood is
thin, and the fire of youth burning low, to describe the
intensity of my love, my joy, and my delight after this
auspicious adventure. I walked on springs—I moved
in air—the earth was too vulgar for my foot to tread on,
and I felt as if mounting to the clouds of heaven, and
traversing the regions and spheres above the walks of
mortality. Yea though clothed in a livery, and carrying
her cloak over my arm, (vile badges of slavery!)—though
walking all alone, and far behind the object of all my
earthly hopes, I remember I went on repeating these
words to myself, “ She is mine ! she is mine!” The
flower of all the world is my own! She loves me, she
adores me! I see it in her eyes, her smile, her every
feature: that beam only foretastes of heaven and happi.
ness! She shall yet be mine! to walk by my side!
smile in my face when there is none to see! rest in my
bosom, and be to me as a daughter! O that it were
given me to do some great and marvellous action, to make
me worthy of so much gentleness and beauty !”
In this strain did I go on till it came to my reflection
that she was older than me and that I had no time for
the performance of any of these great actions, as all the
young noblemen of the three kingdoms were at cutting


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
233
one another's throats about her and her sister already.
This was a potion so bitter that I could not swallow it,
nevertheless I was compelled to do it, and then I lifted
up my voice and wept.
I was three weeks in the family before I knew that the
whole of its members were confirmed papists, and Huntly
himself an excommunicated person, given over to Satan;
and grievously was I shocked and tormented about it;
particularly to think of the beautiful, angelic, and imma.
culate Lady Jane being a proselyte to that creed. For
my life, I could not think the less of her for this misfor-
tune; for she was indeed all gentleness, kindness and
humanity; but I deplored her calamity, and resolved to
spend life and blood to effect her conversion to the truth,
and then I knew the consolation she would experience
would knit her inviolably to me for ever. Full of this
great scheme, I set to the studying night and day how I
might accomplish my purpose, but my plans were derang-
ed for the present by an announcement that the family
was to remove to the highlands; in consequence of which
all was bustle and confusion for several days.
The day of our departure at length arrived, and that
was such a cavalcade as Scotland hath but rarely wit-
nessed, when the Gordons rode out at the west port of
Edinburgh. The Marquess wanted to show a little of
his power, and to crow over his enemies that day, for he
had no less than forty noblemen in his company, includ-
ing the sons of earls, every one of whom had numerous
attendants, while he himself had five hundred gallant
yeomen of Strathbogie as a guard. The gentlemen rode
all in armour, and the ladies on palfreys, and without
douut it was a noble sight. As we rode through the
Grass-market, the crowd was excessive, and there was
some disposition manifested of an attack on the noble
family, which was very unpopular among the true reform-
ers of that period; but we appeared in such strength that
they durst do nothing but stand and gaze, while the ad.
herents of the old principles rent the air with shouts of
applause.
V.


234
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
I had for my steed a good black country nag, with a
white girth round his neck. He was lean, but high spir.
ited, and I made a considerable figure among the multi-
tude. After we were fairly out of the town, the ladies
did not keep all together, but rode in pairs or mixed with
the gentlemen. I then formed the design of watching
an opportunity and slipping a religious letter that I had
penned into Lady Jane's hand; but I watched in vain,
for she was the whole day surrounded by suitors, every
one striving to get a word of her ; so that I felt myself
as nobody among that splendid group, and fell into great
despondency. The more so, that I thought I discovered
one who was a favourite above all others that day. He
was tall, comely, and rode a French steed of uncommon
beauty and dimensions, and being seldom or never from
her side, I perceived a triumph in his eyes that was not
to be borne ; but I was obliged to contain my chagrin,
not being able to accomplish any thing for the present.
[Mr Sydeserf then goes on to relate every circum-
stance attending their journey, and the places at which
they halted, which narrative is tedious enough, for he
seems neither to have been in the confidence of masters
nor servants. He complains greatly of want of accommo-
dation and victuals by the way, and adds, that as for the
troopers and common attendants, he could not discover
what they subsisted on, for he neither perceived that they
got any allowance, or that they had any victuals along
with them. The only thing worth copying in the journal
(and it is scarcely so) is his account of a dinner which
appears to have been at Glamis Castle, and the pickle
David Peterkin was in for meat and drink.]
At Perth, we lodged at a palace of our own, (I am
ignorant what palace this was,) but it was not stored with
dainties, like our house in Edinburgh. All the esta.
blishments of the town were ransacked for viands, and a
good deal of fish and oaten meal were procured ; never-
theless the people were very hungry, and every thing
vanished as fast as presented. Of the whole group there
was not one so badly off as my old friend, Mr David


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
235
Peterkin, who could not live without a liberal supply of
meat and drink, although, honest man, he was not very
nice with regard to quality. The Marquess dined at
one, the head attendants at half-past one, and the lower
servants at two, with David Peterkin at their head; but
this day it was five before the first class sat down, and
by the eager way in which the various portions were de-
voured, I saw there would not be much left for the se.
cond table, not looking so far forward as the third. At
our table, every remnant of fish, fowl, meat, and venison
vanished; the bones were picked as clean as peeled wood,
and even the oatmeal soup went very low in the bickers.
I could not help then noting the flabby and altered fea-
tures of poor Peterkin, as he eyed the last fragment of
every good bit reaved from his longing palate. His ca.
daverous looks were really pitiful, for he was so much
overcome that his voice had actually forsaken him, and I
have reason to believe, that saving a little gruel, he and
his associates got nothing.
The next night we were at the castle of old Lord Ly-
on, where I witnessed a curious scene, at least it was a
curious scene to me. The dinner was served in a long
dark hall, in which the one end could not be seen from
the other, and the people took all their places, but no-
thing was set down. After the nobility were placed, two
orderly constables came down among us, and pulling and
wheeling us rudely by the shoulders, pointed out to us
our various places. Down we sat, hurryscurry, lords
ladies, servants, all in the same apartment, but all in due
rank and subordination. Thinks I to myself, Lord
Huntly will not like this arrangement, and Lady Huntly
will like it still worse; but casting my eyes toward him at
the head oft he board, I never saw the old hero in better
humour, and the suavity or sternnes of his counte-
nance spread always like magic over all that came within
its influence, consequently, I knew at once that that
would be a pleasant party. It was the first time I had
sat at table with my mistress, and I being among the
uppermost retainers, my distance from her was not very


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
237
the third course was one of venison and fowls, but that
passed not by the broad table. After the first service,
strong drink was handed round in large wooden dishes
with two handles, and every man was allowed as much
as he could take at a draught, but not to renew it; the
same the next service, and thus ended our dinner. The
party was uncommonly facetious, owing, I was sure, to
the Marquess's good humour, which never for an instant
forsook him, and convinced me that he had often been
in similar situations. I enjoyed it exceedingly ; but every
thing came on me by surprise, and the last was the most
disagreeable of all. No sooner had we taken our last
sup above mentioned, than the two imperious constables
with the long white staves came and turned us out with
as little ceremony as they set us down, hitting such as
were unmindful of their warning a yerk with their sticks.
They actually drove us out before them like a herd of
highland cattle ; and then the nobility and gentry closed
around the broad table for an evening's enjoyment.
I never felt the degrading shackles of servitude and
dependency so much as I did at that instant. To be
placed at table with my mistress, with her whom I loved
above all the world ; to eat of the same food, and drink
of the same cup, and then, when it suited the conve-
nience of my superiors in rank, (though in nothing else,)
and of my rivals, to be driven from her presence like a
highland bullock, and struck on the shoulders with a
peeled stick! Why Sirs, it was more than the spirit
within a Sydeserf could brook ! and but for love-im-
perious love-but for the circumstance that I was utterly
unable to tear myself away from the object of my de.
votion, I would never have submitted to such humiliation,
or the chance of it, a second time.
[On the Marquess and his retinue reaching. Huntly
Castle, it appears from the narrative that by some mutual
understanding, all the gentlemen visitors withdrew, and
left the family at leisure for some great preparation, the
purport of which Mr Sydeserf was utterly at a loss to
comprehend ; but it freed him of his rivals in love, and
u 2


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
239
I went to the bower, and found every thing as I had left
it. My heart had nigh failed me at the greatness of the
attempt, but not doubting its ultimate success, I let every
thing remain.
Then a thought struck me how exquisite a treat it
would be to witness the effect of my stratagem unseen.
This was easy to be done, as the bower was surrounded
by an impervious thicket, so I set about it and formed
myself a den close behind the bower, cutting a small
opening through the leaves and branches, that without
the possibility of being seen, I might see into the middle
of her retreat. I thought the hour of her arrival would
never come, and my situation and sufferings were dread-
ful. At length the entrance to the bower darkened, and
on peeping through my opening, I saw the lovely vision
standing in manifest astonishment. Her foot was so light
that no sound for the listening ear escaped from the sward
where that foot trode. She came like a heavenly vision,
too beautiful and too pure for human hand to touch, or
even for human eye to look on; and there she stood in
the entrance to the bower, the emblem of holy amaze-
ment. My breast felt as it would rend at both my sides
with the pangs of love, and my head as if a hive of bees
had settled on it. As soon as her eye traced the purple
cross, she instantly kneeled before it, and bowed her head
to the ground in prayer; but her prayer was the effusion
of the soul, few words being expressed audibly, and
those at considerable intervals. In these intervals she
appeared to be kissing the cross of flowers; but I was
not positive of this, for I saw but indistinctly; she then
took a small picture of some favourite sweetheart from
her bosom, looked at it with deep concern and affection,
kissed it, and put it again in its place. This grieved me,
but I took notice of the mounting of jewels round the
miniature so as that I was certain of knowing it again,
and curious I was to see it.
She then sat for a space in the most calm and beatific
contemplation, and I shall never forget the comeliness of
that face as she looked about on the beauties of nature.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
24 I
the lady's misfortune, I loved her rather the better than
the worse for it, for my love was seasoned with a pity of
the most tender and affectionate nature.
I put these sinful relics carefully up in my pocket,
determined to have a fair bout with the conscience and
good sense of their owner at the delivery of them. But
the next day she cheated me, going to her bower by a
circuitous route, and about an hour and a half earlier than
she was wont, for she had missed her costly relics and
been quite impatient about them. I discovered that she
was there, and knew not how to do to come in contact
with her. But I was always a man of fair and honour.
able shifts; so I went and turned a drove of the Mar-
quess's fat bullocks into the side of the Deveron to get a
drink, for the day was very warm. The animals were
pampered and outrageous, but still more terrible in ap-
pearance than reality; and now Lady Jane could not re-
turn home in any other way than either by wading the
stream, or coming through the middle of the herd, neither
of which she durst do for her life. Now, thinks I, my
dear lady, I shall make you blythe of my assistance once
more. So I concealed myself, keeping in view the path
by which she was necessitated to emerge from the wood;
she appeared once or twice among the bushes, but durst
not so much as come nigh the stile. I kept my station,
but was harassed by Lady Jane's maid coming to look
after her mistress, who had been longer than her usual
time absent.
“Go away hame, you giglet,” said I. “The lady is
without doubt at her devotions. I am watching lest she
fall among these dangerous animals. A fine hand you
would be to conduct her through them. Go away hame,
and mind your broidery and your seam."
“Oh mee gracioso Monsieur Longshirte," said the
French taupie, “how monstrouse crabeede you are dis
day! Me do tink you be for de word of de pretty bride
yourself. Ah you sly doag, is it not soa? Ha! come
tell me all about it, cood Monsieur de Longshirte;"and with
that she came and placed herself close down beside me;


242
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
I was nettled to death, and knew not what way to get
quit of her.
“Go away hame, I tell you, you foreign coquette,"
said I as good-naturedly as I could ; "you mouse-trap,
you gillie-gawkie, I say go away hame.”
“ How very droll you be, good Monsieur de Long.
shirte," said she; “but de very night before one you
called me de sweet sweet rose, and de lily, and de beauti.
ful maamoselle Le Mebene; and now I am de giglet, and
trap-de-moose, and gillygawky? And den it was come,
come, come wid me sweet Le Mebene; but now it is go,
go home vid you de French coquette! How very droll
you be, kind Monsieur Longshirte.”
After a great deal of tattle of the same sort, and find-
ing it impossible to get rid of her, I ran off and left her,
ensconcing myself in the middle of the herd of bullocks.
I did not want to hear any recapitulations of idle chit-
chat. Domestics in high life have ways and manners
not much to boast of, and my heart was set on higher
game. So I fled from the allurements of a designing
woman into the fellowship of the bulls of Bashan. They
gathered round me, staring with their great goggle eyes,
and made a humming noise as if to encourage one another
to the attack, but none seemed to have courage to be the
first beginner, but always as their choler rose to a height,
they attacked one another either in sport or real earnest,
and altogether they made a hideous uproar. Le Mebene
fled towards the castle, and afraid that she would raise
the affray, I was forced to proceed to the only entrance
by which Lady Jane could emerge from the wood, and
cutting myself a great kebir, I took my stand there, and
whistled a spring with great glee to keep my courage up,
and let my mistress hear that her protector was at hand.
She was not slack in taking the hint, for she came to
me with a hurried step, and a certain wildness in her
looks that showed great trepidation. She commended
me for my attention, blessed me, and took my hand in
hers, which I felt to be trembling. This I took to be
the manifestation of an ardent and concealed love, and


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
243
seizing it in both mine, I kissed it, kneeling at her feet;
at the same time beginning a speech which I choose not
here to relate, till looking up I perceived a blush on her
face. I believe to this day it was the blush of restrained
affection, but at the moment it had the effect of sealing
my lips, having taken it for the red frown of displeasure.
“Do not mar the high sentiments I entertain of you,
Mr. Archibald," said she.
“ My esteem for you is such, honoured lady,” said I,
" that it knows no boundaries either in time or eternity.”
“ I know it, I know it, young man,” said she, inter-
rupting me again : “ you have put my faith sorely to the
test; but, blessed be the Mother of our Lord, I have
overcome.”
My heart trembled within me with a mixture of grief
and awe, love and disappointment, and I lost the only
chance ever I had of working the conversion of that most
angelic of women, by sinking into utter silence before
her eye. She seized the opportunity by momently re-
verting to her critical and dangerous situation, and ask-
ed if I durst undertake to conduct her through the
herd ?
· I shouldered my great stick, answered in the affirma-
tive, and assured her it was only a sense of her imminent
danger that had brought me there.
“ There is nothing in this world for which I have
such a horror as bulls,” said she. “They are the most
ferocious of all animals, and so many accidents occur
every season from their untameable fierceness, that I
declare my blood runs cold to encounter their very looks.”
The animals as far as I understood, were oxen, not
bulls, but I chose not to give the lie to a lady's discern-
ment, and acquiesced with her in affirming that our
country contained no animals so dangerous and terrible,
and I added, “ But what does the heart and arm of man
fear, when put to the test in defence of beauty ?
“ Bravo!" said she, “ lead on, and God be our shield !"
I offered my protecting hand, but she declined it and
took shelter behind me. She was covered with a tartan


244
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
mantle, the prevailing colour of which was a bright scarlet,
a colour which provokes the fury of these animals, but
which circumstance was then unknown to me. They
came on us with open mouths, bellowing and scraping
with their fore feet on the earth, and always as they
gazed at us the reflection of the mantle made their eyes
as of a bloody red. I thought the animals were gone
mad altogether, and never was so terrified from the day
that I was born. Lady Jane clung to me, sometimes on
the one side and sometimes on the other, uttering every
now and then a smothered scream, and looking as pale
as if she had been wrapt in her winding sheet.
“No fear, no fear, madam,” said I. “ They had
better keep their distance. Stand off, you ugly dog!
stand off !" and I shouldered my tree. “ Stand off, or I
will teach you better manners." No they would not
stand off, but in place of that came nearer and nearer,
until they had us so completely beleaguered that we could
neither advance nor retreat. “ Collie choke a bull,"
cried I, trying every method to disperse our adversaries,
but trying them all in vain. I gave us up for lost, and
I fear Lady Jane beheld my changing cheer, for she
actually grew frantic with terror, and screamed aloud for
assistance, as from some other quarter.
It was now high time for me to repent of my strata.
gem of the bullocks, which I did in good sincerity, and
made a vow to God in my heart, if he would but deliver
me, thenceforward to act openly and candidly with all
mankind, and womankind into the bargain. I made this
experiment the more readily that Lady Jane was at the
same time calling on the Holy virgin, on whose interces-
sion having no manner of reliance, but dreading the ven.
geance of Heaven for such palpable idolatry, I put up
such a petition as a Christian ought, and sealed it with a
vow. When lo wonderful to relate I the outrageous
animals fell a tossing their heads and tails in a wild and
frantic manner, and in one minute they galloped off in
every direction, as if under the influence of some charm.
They cocked their heads, rolled their tails up in the air,


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
245
and ran as if for a prize ; some of them plunging into the
Deveron, and others dashing into the woods. Our relief
was instantaneous. I say nothing but the truth, and deny
not that the phenomenon might have been accounted for
in a natural way, therefore, as a humble sinner, I take no
merit to myself, but describe things precisely as they oc-
curred. Whether the animals only came to gaze on us
for their amusement, and started off simultaneously in
pursuit of some higher fun, or if an army of hornets was
sent by heaven to our relief, I pretend not at this dis-
tance of time to determine. But sorry have I been a
thousand times that I could not keep that vow made in
my greatest extremity. The times in which I have lived
rendered it impracticable. Every thing was to be done
by plot and stratagem, and he that could not yield his
mind to such expedients was left in the lurch. True, it
was a sin to break my vow, nevertheless it was a sin of
necessity, and one of which I was compelled to be guilty
every day. May the Lord pardon the transgressions of
his erring servant !
One would have thought that now, when our danger
was clean gone, Lady Jane would have brightened up;
but, in place of that, she grew quite faint and leaned on
my arm without being able to speak. I bore her on for
some time with great difficulty, and at last was obliged
to let her sink to the earth, where for some time I had
the ineffable delight of supporting her head on my bosom;
and so much was I overcome with violent emotion, that
for a long time I could not stir to attempt any means for
her recovery. At length I judged it necessary to my
credit to attempt something, so I cut the lacings of her
stays, and soon after that she recovered.
I had not well raised her up, and was still supporting
her with both my arms, when on an instant her brother,
the Lord Gordon, and the Marquess of Douglas, appear.
ed close at our hands. I expected Lady Jane to faint
again, but the surprise acted like electricity on her, and
after an alternate blush of the rose and paleness of the
lily, she quite recovered. Madam Mebene had raised


246
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
the alarm in the family, and the two lords came on the
look out for her who was the darling of the whole house.
But the proud eye of Enzie burnt with rage as he ap-
proached us. He had seen me rise first myself, raise the
lady in my arms, and support her for a small space on the
way, and it was manifest that his jealous nature was aroused,
and that if it had not been for the presence of Lord
Douglas, he would have run me through the body. I'll
never forget the look he gave me when he threw me from
his sister's side, and took my place. As for the attack
made on her by bulls, as she related it, and of her faint-
ing away, I could perceive that he regarded it all as a
made up story, and thought more than he choose to ex.
press.
Lady Enzie was not at Castle Huntly on our arrival
there from Edinburgh; for the castle being then in ruins,
and our residence only temporary barracks, we remained
at our own home till about this time of which I am writ-
ing, when she came on a visit. Her maiden name was
Lady Anne Campbell, she being eldest sister to the good
Earl of Argyle ; she had been married at an early age,
and now looked like an old woman; her health and heart
being both broken. She had been compelled to marry
into a Catholic family, in order to effect some mighty
coalition in the highlands which failed, and I fear she had
little pleasure of her life, for her husband was the sworn
enemy of her house, and a perfect demon in pride and
irritability. She was a true Protestant, and had all the
inherent good qualities of her noble lineage;—she had
learned to temporize with those of a different persua-
sion, and all her sisters-in-law loved her with great
tenderness and affection.
Now it so fell out that my religious epistle to Lady
Jane had troubled that lady a great deal, and put her
Catholic principles sore to the rack; therefore as a grate-
ful present to her Protestant sister, she put the writing
into her hands, at which she was greatly amazed, and
not less delighted, testifying the strongest desire to for-
ward the views of the writer. By what means this paper


248
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
ill, and the violence of my rage at Lord Enzie made
my distemper a great deal the worse.
As soon as I was able, I wrote to the Marquess com-
plaining of the usage I had received in recompense for
all I had ventured for him. He was a man of the high-
est honour, and sent me a sum of money with an assu-
rance that he would provide for me in a way that suited
both my talents and inclination. He regretted what his
son had done, whom no man could keep in bounds, but
was willing to make me all the reparation that lay in his
power, which I should soon see; so I was obliged to
keep my humble bed and wait the issue.
A few days subsequent to that, I was visited by Lady
Enzie and Lady Jane Gordon, who both condoled with
me in a most affectionate manner, and reprobated the
outrage committed by Lord Enzie, who had the day be.
fore that set off for France on some military expedition.
After a great deal of kind commiseration, Lady Enzie
said, “ The plain truth is, clerk Archimbald, that you
can never rise to eminence either in my husband's family,
or under the patronage of any of its members, for (begg.
ing my lovely sister's pardon) every one of that family
are Catholics at heart, however they may have been
compelled to disguise their sentiments, and they will
never raise a man to wealth or power who is not confirmed
in their own religious tenets. It is a part of their prin.
ciple rather to retard him. But to my brother, the Lord
Argyle, you will be quite a treasure. You will instruct
his two noble sons in the principles of the reformed re-
ligion, for which no young man in the kingdom is so well
fitted ; learn them the art of composition in the English
tongue ; travel with them into foreign parts, and form
their hearts and their minds to follow after truth. Or
you can assist my brother in his great plans of furthering
the Reformation. If you consent to this arrangement,
as soon as you are able to travel, I will dispatch you to
my brother with a letter which will ensure your good re-
ception.”
I testified my obligation to her ladyship, but added


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
251
of his memoirs, as affording little that is new or amu.
sing. He was engaged by the Earl of Argyle as his se-
cretary, and assisted that nobleman with all his power
and cunning, in bringing about a reformation, both in
Church and State. He was likewise tutor to his two
sons, and went over to Holland with Lord Lorn, and af-
terwards to London with Lord Neil Campbell ; but in the
tedious details of these matters, although there is a por-
tion of good sense, or sly speciousness in its place, yet
there is very little of it so much better than the rest as
to be worth extracting. There is one anecdote which he
pretends to give from report, which appears not a little
puzzling. He says:
" While at this place (Armaddie) there were strange
reports from Huntly Castle reached mine ears. The two
lovely twin Gordons were married on the same day to
two widowers, but both young and gallant gentlemen,
Lady Mary to the Marquess of Douglas, and Lady Jane
to Lord Strathbane; (who in the world was this ?) but
on the evening of the wedding, the latter missed his bride,
and following her out to her bower, he found her in com-
pany with a strange gentleman, who was kneeling and
clasping her knees; on which Lord Strathbane rushed
forward, and ran the aggressor through the body with his
sword. The utmost confusion arose about the castle.
Lady Jane fainted, and went out of one fit into another,
but would never tell who that gentleman was, denying all,
knowledge of him. The body was likewise instantaneously
removed, so that it was no more seen ; but Lord Strath-
bane, supposing he had committed a murder, fled that
night, and the marriage was not consummated for full
seven weeks. The story was never rightly cleared up."
We do not much wonder at it, considering how
quickly the body, or rather the wounded gentleman, made
his escape; but even at this distance of time, we have
a shrewd suspicion that it might be the Baillie himself,
especially as he says in another place—“The Marquess
(of Argyle) would fain have had me putting on sword-
armour that day, both for the protection of my own


LIFE OF AN EDINBURH BAILLIE.
253
lying in my chamber next day, so that there was no
doubt I had been made away with, in order to cover his
embezzlement of the public monies. Haggard was in
great indignation at the charge, but not being able to
prove aught to the contrary, the plea was admitted, and
he was cast for execution,a circumstance not much
accounted of in those days.
I was greatly tickled with this piece of information,
and he having been the man who, of all others, used me
the worst, save Lord Gordon, or Enzie, as he was called,
so I resolved never either to forgive the one or the other.
Of course I made no efforts towards a mitigation of the
brute Haggard's sentence.
His execution had been fixed for the 26th of May, but
before that period, I had been called express to Stirling
on the Marquess's business, in order to further the cor-
respondence on the Antrim expedition, of which Argyle,
my patron, was in great terror. However, I took a
horse on the 25th, and riding all night, reached the Grass
Market in good time to see the ruffian pay kane for all
bis cruelties and acts of injustice; and from that day
forth, I was impressed with a notion that Providence
would not suffer any man to escape with impunity who
had wronged me, and inherited my curse and malison.
I had done nothing against Haggard, saving that at one
time I had wished ill to him in my heart, and now, be-
hold, I saw even more than my heart's desire on mine
enemy. I enjoyed the sight a good deal, nor was I to
blame;-a man should always do that which is just and
proper. I never saw such a wo-begone wretched being
as he looked on the scaffold ;--no man could have
believed that a character so dissipated and outrageous
could ever have been reduced to such a thing of despair.
He harangued the multitude at great length, and in my
opinion, to very little purpose,-merely, I was persuad.
ed, for the purpose of gaining a few more minutes of
miserable existence.- Again and again did he assert
his innocence relating to the murder of the young
man commonly called Clerk Archibald, wished well


254
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
to the Marquess of Huntly, and prayed for his for-
giveness.
During the time of this harangue, and when it drew
nigh to a close, I chanced to come in contact with Mr
Alexander Hume, baker, with whom I had some settle-
ments to make while I was in the castle. He was one
whom I esteemed as an honourable man, and I could
not help speaking to him, asking how he did?—and what
he thought of this affair? He answered me in some con-
fusion, so that I perceived he did not know me,ếor was
greatly at a loss to comprehend how I should be there.
Judging it, therefore, as well to be quit of him, I made
off a little, but he stuck by me, and the crowd being so
great, I could not get away, for I was close to the foot
of the gallows.
“ Think of it, squire?" said he, “ Why, I suppose I
think of it as others do ; that the fellow was a rascal, and
brought himself under the lash of the law, and is suffer-
ing justly the penalty of his iniquities. Our judges are
just, you know, and our exactors righteous—do you not
think the same?” .
“ You had a good deal of business with Haggard, Mr
Hume," says I, “and must know. Did you find him an
arrant rascal in his dealings?"
“No-I do not say so, I was not called to give oath to
that effect, and if I had, I could not have sworn he was.”
“ Then you know that, as to the murder, he must have
been innocent of that.”
“ How ? - What? _How can you prove that? Good
and blessed Virgin, is not this Clerk Archy himself ?"
I nodded assent, when he seized my hand as if it had
been in a vice, and went on without suffering me to rejoin
a word—" How are you? Where have you been? You
have been kidnapped, then ? Come this way, this way,
a wee bit. Colonel Haggard ! Hilloa, Colonel, speak
to me, will ye.”
The Colonel had taken farewell of the world, of the
sun and the moon, and the stars, and the spires of Edin-
burgh castle. The bedesman and executioner were both


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
255
sick of his monotonous harangues, and waited with im-
patience the moment when he should give the signal.
Still he had not power, and at that terrible crisis Hume
fell a bawling out to him," Hilloa, Colonel, speak to
me, will ye, speak to me just for a wee bit-hilloa, you
there, Mr Sheriff and Mr Chaplain, loose the Colonel's
een, will ye?
The sheriff shook his head, on which Hume saw there
was not a moment to lose, and having resolved to save
Haggard's life, merely, I dare say, for the novelty of the
thing, he called aloud to the sheriff to stop the execution
till he, Mr Hume, spoke a word in his ear. With that
he sprung to the ladder with an agility of which no man
would have supposed him possessed,—the sheriff beck-
oned the centinel to let him pass, on which he intimated
something very shortly to that dignitary, and flew to the
prisoner, who, poor man! stood with his eyes covered,
the tow about his neck, his hands hanging pendulous,
and the fingers of the right one closed on the signal with
the grasp of death. The officious baker, who seemed to
have lost his reason for a space, instantly fell to relieving
the culprit, turned the napkin up from his eyes, and
would also have loosed the tow from about his craig
had he been permitted, and all the while he was speaking
as fast as his tongue could deliver. I could not hear all
he said, but these were some of the words," It's a fact
that I tell you, Sir, look to yoursel-he's stannin there
at the fit of the gallows. You're a betrayed man, Sir.
See there he is, Sir, looking you in in the face, and wit-
nessing the whole affair.- Mind yoursel, Sir, for, Holy
Virgin! there's nae time to loose, ye ken.”
The poor wretch tried to look and to find me out in
the crowd, but he only stared, and I could easily per,
ceive that he saw nothing, or at least distinguished no
one object from another,—his eyes were like those of a
dead person, casting no reflection inwardly on the soul.
Mr Hume, as I said, in the height of his officiousness,
had begun unloosing the cord from about the convict's
neck, but was withstood by the executioner. That was


256
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
a droll scene, and contributed no little to the amusement
of the tag-rag and bob-tail part of the citizens of Edin-
binburgh. “ Let abee, Sir," said the executioner ; " wha
baud ye tak that trubble. Naebody's fingers touch tow
here but mine, onest man. Stand back, an it be your
wull. Who the muckle deevil are ye ?"
“ Wha im I, Sir !" cried the baker,— " Wha im I, say
ye?--My name, Sir, is Alexander Hume, I'm one o' the
auld baillies, and deacon convener o’ the five trades o'
the bee Calton, a better kind o'man than you, Mr Hangie,
or ony that ever belanged to you, an’ never kend for ony
ill yet,-mair than some focks can say ! Wha im I troth!
-Cornel look to yoursel, Sir, or you're a murdered man.
-I'll stand by you, I like to see a man get justice.”
The poor colonel, judging it necessary to do or say
something for himself in this extremity, appeared like a
man struggling in a horrible dream, but his senses being
quite benumbed, he could only take up the baker's hint,
and a bad business he made of it, for he began with
“O good Christian people, it is true, it is true. I am
a murdered man !-an innocent murdered man !-And
as a proof of it, the man whom I murdered is standing
here looking me in the face and laughing at my calamity.
And is not this, good Christians, such usage as flesh
and blood cannot endure ?-to be murdered by spiteful
papists and enemies,---murdered in cold blood O mur-
der !murder !-murder !”
What's all this for !" exclaimed the hangman, and tur-
ned the poor wretch off. The baker called out, “ Stop,
stop !” and caught wildly at the rope, but he was taken
into custody, and the colonel, after, a few wallops, ex-
pired. In an hour after I left the city to attend the Mar-
quess's business, but the matter caused a great deal of
speechification in Edinburgh for a season, the most part
of the lieges trowing that it had been my ghost that the
baker had seen at the foot of the gallows ; for it was af-
firmed that my naked corpse had been taken from a well
in the castle along with other two bodies, all murdered by
Haggard. I did not believe that Haggard murdered one


LIFE OF AN EDINDURGH BAILLIE.
257
of them; me, I was sure, he did not murder, and I was
very glad that it was so.
[Argyle, as the head and chief of the reformers, now
carried every thing before him ; and we find that, princi-
pally for political purposes, he placed the Baillie in Edin-
burgh as a great wine and brandy merchant, and by that
means got him elected into the council of the city, where
he seems to have had great influence both with ministers
and magistrates. The king nominating the baillies then,
Argyle or Huntly, precisely as their parties prevailed, had
nothing further to do than go to the king, or the com-
missioners after the king's restraint, and bring down the
list, in which case the honourable council seems never to
have objected to any of those named; but if we take the
Baillie's word for it, he seems to have been a conscien-
tious man, for he says:]
From the time I entered the council, I considered my-
self as acting for others. Not for others, abstract from
myself, but at all events, for others besides myself; and
oftentimes was I greatly puzzled to forward the views of
my party without injuring my own interest. I deter-
mined to support the reformers against all opposition,
but the first time I was in the council and the magistra.
cy, we were sorely kept in check by the great influence
of the old Marquess of Huntly. The combined lords
would gladly have brought him to the scaffold, for he
was a bar in their progress which it was impossible to
get over. I believe there was never a nobleman in Scot-
land who had so many enemies, and those so inveterate ;
but his friends being so much attached to him, on the
other hand, the Protestant party could make little pro-
gress as long as he lived. I felt this, and though I had
the offer of being made Lord Provost, and knighted in
1633, I declined the honour and retired from the magis.
tracy until I saw a more favourable season for furthering
the views of the reformers, and of my own great and
amiable patron in particular. Besides, I really had such
a respect for the old Marquess, papist as I believed him
to be at heart, that I could not join in the conspiracies
V.


258
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
against him which I heard broached by one or other
every day. I could not bear to see the noble old vete-
ran dogged to death, which was the real cause why I left
co-operating with the violent part of the reformers for
several years. I never refused Argyle's suggestions, but
those of all others I received with great caution.
In the begining of the year 1635, the worthy old Mar.
quess was again brought before the council, on a charge
of harassing and wasting the lands of his Protestant neigh-
bours. I attended the examinations of the witnesses, and
was convinced in my mind that the Marquess had no
hand in the depredations complained of. True he had
not punished the aggressors, but that I considered no
capital charge; and was grieved when I saw him shut up
once more in close confinement in the castle, in the very
same apartment from whence I had before been the
means of delivering him. Then a fair trial by jury was
instituted, and among all the forty-eight nominated by the
sheriff, there was not one to my knowledge who was not
of the party opposed to Huntly. Though ever so zealous
in forwarding the reformation, I did not like to see it
forwarded by unjust means; for in such cases, men can
hardly expect the blessing of heaven to attend their la-
bours. There were only four commoners named as jury-
men, and I being chosen and sworn, as one of the most
staunch reformers, yet I determined within myself to
give my voice for nothing of which I was not fully con-
vinced. Wariston's indictment represented the old Mar.
quess as the most notorious tyrant and offender living.
He was accused of murder, fire raising, and every breach
of order,—and all the witnesses sworn, spoke to the same
purpose ; but there were two, Major Creighton and John
Hay, whom, as a juryman, I took the liberty of question-
ing over again. The Marquess looked fiercely at me,
quite mistaking my motive ; nor did I at all explain my.
self then, but being chosen foreman of the jury, as I
knew I would, I refused to retire till I heard three men
of the Gordons shortly examined, and then I made it
clear to the jurymen, on our retiring, that Major Creigh-


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE
259
ton and Mr John Hay had both man-sworn theinselves,
for that neither the Marquess nor one of his family had
been proved in the foray; and as for Patrick Gordon,
who had been proven there, it was almost proven that
he could not possibly have had instructions from Huntly.
I then put the question, first to Sir William Dick, a
just man and a good who at once gave his voice-not
guilty. My coadjutors were thunderstruck, for they all
knew we were placed there to condemn the Marquess of
Huntly, not to justify him. The next in order tried to
reason the matter over again with Dick and me, but got
into a passion, and at length voted guilty. Several fol.
lowed on the same side, and it was merely the influence
which Sir William and I possessed in the city, and with
the reformers in particular, that caused some of those
present to vote the Marquess not guilty,--now when
they found they had their greatest opponent in their
power. I was certain they thought there was some
scheme or plot under it, which they did not comprehend,
and that Sir William Dick and I were managing it, where.
as we had nothing at heart but justice. Our point was
a while very doubtful, so much so, that I feared the Mar-
quess was lost, which would have been a great stain on
our court of justice; but every thing was managed by
intrigue, and the power or advantage of one party over
another was the ruling cause that produced the effect.
When the vote came to Baillie Anderson, of Leith, I
looked in his face. I saw he was going to vote guilty in
support of our faction, but I gave him a look that stag-
gered him, and I repeated it at every turn of his eye.
He called the state of the vote to gain time; then I
saw that Patie durst not vote against me, and accordingly
his voice decided it by one.
I then returned joyfully into the court with the state
of the vote in my hand, and said, “ My lord, the jury
by a plurality of voices find George Gordon, Marquess
of Huntly-Not guilty.” Never did I see a whole
bench so astounded; the matter had been settled and
over again settled with them all, and the justice's clerk


260
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
had composed, it was said, a condemning speech of so
tremendous a nature, that it was to astonish all the nations
of the world, and even convert the Pope of Rome; but
I baulked them all for once, and my lord justice clerk's
speech was lost.
The Marquess had had a powerful party in the house, all
desponding; for when the sentence of the jury was heard,
the voices of the audience rose gradually to a tumult of
applause, at which the judges were highly offended; but
the old hero, turning round, and bowing to the crowd
with the tear in his eye, the thunders of approbation were
redoubled. I never rejoiced more, nor was prouder of
anything than of the brave old peer's acquittal, and I
perceived that his feelings nearly overcame him. He
looked at me with an unstable and palsied look, as if
striving in vain to recognise me; but that very afternoon
he sent his chariot to my house, with a kind request that
I would visit him, which I did, and found himself sur-
rounded by the chief men of his clan, all crazed with joy,
and almost ready to worship me. He showed them the
state of the vote with pride, proving that my two votes
and influence saved his life. I did not deny it, but ac-
knowledged that I had striven hard for it, and at one
time had given him up for lost. I then told him the
story of Patie Anderson, at which he laughed very
heartily, but still he did not recognise me as his old
attendant.
At length when we were going to part, he said, “ You
have indeed saved my life, Baillie, from a combination of
my inveterate enemies, and if ever it lie in my power to
confer a benefit on you or yours, you shall not need to
ask it, but only find means of letting me know of such
a thing."
“I have saved your life before now, my lord,” said I;
" and though I got no reward then, nor look for any now,
yet if it lie in my power I would do the same again.”
He looked unsteadily and anxiously at me, and bit his
lips, as if struggling with former reminiscences ; and I
then noted with pain, for the first time, how much the


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
263
before his demise, to arrange and sign some documents,
I urged his departure very much, and as an inducement,
stated that unless he went immediately, I could not
accompany hiin, nor see him in the North for the space
of a whole year.
Accordingly we set out, as far as I remember, on the
3d of June; but we made poor speed, for the Marquess
could not bear his chariot to go much faster than at a
snail's pace, and only on the most level ways. So, after
a wearisome course, we arrived at Dundee on the 10th,
and the next day the Marquess could not be removed.
There were none of his family but one son-in-law of our
retinue, and I was applied to for every thing, so that I
had a poor time of it. “Ask the baillie.” “Enquire at
the baillie.” “ The baillie must procure us this thing and
the other thing ;" was in every body's mouth. Had I
been six baillies, not to say men, I could not have per-
formed all that was expected of me.
I had now lost all hope of my legacy, and would glad-
ly have been quit of my charge, but could not think to leave
the old hero in so forlorn a state; for Lord Douglas having
posted on to Castle Huntly, I had the sole charge, as it
were, of the dying man. I rode with him in his chariot
the last day he was on the road; after that, he took all
his cordials from my hand, and on the afternoon of the
13th, he died in my arms in the house of Mr Robert
Murray, a gentleman of that place; for though his lady
had arrived the day before, she was so ill, she could not
sit up.
He was a hero to the last, and had no more dread of
death than of a night's quiet repose; but I was convin-
ced he died a true Catholic, for all so often as he had
been compelled to renounce his religion by the Com.
mittee of Estates and the General Assembly.
Mr Bannerman and Mr Stewart, two notaries public,
arrived from Edinburgh, and took charge of the papers
and deeds which the deceased carried with him. I want-
ed to return home, but these gentlemen dissuaded me,
and I confess that some distant hopes of emolument pre-


264
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
vailed on me to await that splendid funeral, which certain-
Jy surpassed all I have ever yet beheld, and which I shall
now attempt to describe as truly as a frail memory re-
tains it.
(The Bailie's description of the funeral procession from
Dundee to the cathedral at Elgin, is minute and tedious;
but if true, it is utterly astonishing in such an age of
anarchy and confusion. Some part of the management
of the charities having been assigned by appointment to
the Baillie, his old friend Lord Gordon of Enzie, now the
Marquess of Huntly, and he, came once more in contact.
But honest Archy, now being head baillie and chief mov-
ing spring in the council and city of Edinburgh, and in
the hope of being Lord Provost next year, all by the in-
fluence of Argyle, also a privileged man, went through
his department without taking the least notice of the
heir and chief of the family for whom he was acting ; but
the Marquess discovered in the end who he was and all
their former connection, and certainly treated him scurvily.
I must copy his account of this.]
On the Tuesday following, the will and testament of
the late Marquess was read in the great hall, and all the
servants and officers were suffered to be present: but
when the new Marquess cast his eyes on me, he asked
•ó what was my business there?"
I answered “ that his lordship would perceive that by
and by; and that at all events I had as good a right to
be there as others of his father's old servants ;” and being
a little nettled, I said what, perhaps, I should not have
said, “ for,” added I, “it is possible that neither your-
self nor any of them ever had the honour of twice saving
your father's life as I have had."
“ You saved my father's life, Sir? you saved my
father's life?" said he disdainfully. “You never had
the power, Sir, to save the life of one of my father's cats.
Leave the mansion immediately. I know you well for a
traitor and a spy of the house of Argyle.”
A sign from Mr Bannerman, the agent, now brought
me up to him, before I ventured a reply. He gave me a


266
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
till they came to the very last codicil, wherein the late
worthy Marquess bequeathed to me his palace in the
Canongate with all that it contained ; and all because I
had, at two different times, saved him from an immediate
and disgraceful death. It has been alleged by some that
I have been a proud and conceited man all my life; but
it is well known to my friends that the reverse of this is
the truth. I never was, however, so proud of worldly
recommendation and worldly honours, as I was at that
moment. Mr Stewart, who was then reading, when he
came to the clause, made a loud hem as if clearing his
voice, and then went on in a louder tone.
“I give, leave, and bequeath to the worthy and hon-
ourable Bailie Archibald Sydeserf, my house in the
Canongate, with all its appurtenances, entrances, and
offices, and all within and without the houses that belong-
eth to me, save and except the two stables above the
water gate, and the bed of state in the southern room,
all of which were presents from the Duke of Chatel-
herault, my grandfather, to me and mine, and must there-
fore be retained in my family. The rest I bequeath, &c.,
&c., to the worthy Mr Sydeserf, and all for having twice,
of his own accord and free will, and without any hope of
reward, farther than the love of honour and the appro.
bation of a good conscience, delivered me from im-
mediate death by the hands of my implacable enemies."
I confess when I heard this read out in a strong,
mellow and affecting tone, I could not resist crying; the
tears ran down my cheeks, and I was obliged to digbt
them with my sleeve, and snifter like a whipped boy. I
at length ventured to lift my eyes through tears to the
face of the new Marquess, sure of now spying symptoms
of a congenial feeling; but instead of that, I perceived
his face turned half aside, while he was literally gnawing
his lip in pride and vexation; and when the clerk had
finished, he said with a burst of breath, as if apostrophiz-
ing himself—“Never shall he inherit it, or ought that it
contains."
Now, thought I, surely the spirit that worketh in the


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
267
children of disobedience hath taken full and free posses-
sion of his haughty mind, else he could never be so void
of all respect both for the dead and living.
After this proud exclamation there was a pause.
“Humph ?" said the clerk; “humph,” said a dozen and
more of voices throughout the hall. “ Humph ?" said I,
by way of winding up the growl, and gave my head a
significant nod, as much as if I had said, “ we'll see about
that, my lord." My heart again burnt within me, and I
resolved once more to be even with this haughty chief,
if ever it lay in my power.
I lodged that night in the town of Huntly, waiting on
Messrs Bannerman and Stewart, for we had conjointly
hired a guard to attend us to Aberdeen; but in the mid-
dle of the night my landlord came in to me with a crazed
look, and asked me if I was sleeping; I said “ yes,"
“Then,” said he, “ you inust waken yourself up as fast
as you can, for there is a gentleman in the house who
has called expressly to see you. For God's sake, sir,
make haste and come to him.
A gentleman called on me!” said I; “ pray, sir, who
takes it on him to disturb me, a stranger, at these un-
timeous hours ? Tell him I'll see him to-morrow as early
as he likes.”
“Oh, God bless your honour, it is to-morrow already,"
said mine host with apparent trepidation, “and therefore
you must come to him without a moment's delay.”
What is the matter, sir ?" said I. " Who is it?
what is the matter ?"
“Oh, it is one of the chieftains of the Gordons," said
he; "and that you will find. I know very well who it
is, but as to what is the matter, there you puzzle me ; for
unless it be some duel business, I cannot conceive what
it is. All that I can come at is, that your life is in danger
-hope you have not offended any of the Gordons,
sir?"
"I will not leave my room, sir, at this untimeous
hour," said I, rather too much agitated. “It is my
domicile for the present, and I debar all intrusions. If


268
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
it is on an affair of duelling, you may tell the gentleman
that I fight no duels. I am a magistrate, a Christian,
and an elder of the reformed Church, and therefore it
does not become such a man as me to fight duels.”
“God bless your honour," said the fellow, laughing
with the voice of a highland bull. “Come and tell all
this to the gentleman himself, I am no judge of such
matters. An elder of the reformed Church are you?
What church is that? Are you for the king or the
covenant? I should like to know, for all depends on that
here."
I have forgot what answer I made to this, for while I
was speaking, a furious rap came on my chamber door ;
I was so much alarmed that I could neither breathe nor
speak for a short space, nevertheless I took the matter
with that calm resolution that became a man and a
magistrate.
“Yes, sir, yes; coming, sir,” cried mine host. Then
whispering mem" for mercy's sake get up and come away,
sir,” said he; and he actually took hold of my wrist, and
began a-pulling to bring me over the bed. I resisted
with the resolution of keeping my ground, but a voice of
thunder called outside the door, “ George, you dog,
why don't you bring the gentleman away as I ordered
you?"
“He will not come, sir. He'll not stir a foot," said the
landlord.
“ But he must come, and that without a moment's
delay," said the same tremendous voice.
“I told him so, sir,” said the landlord ; “but for all
that he will not stir. The gentleman, sir, is a magistrate,
and an elder of the reformed kirk, and never fights any
duels."
“ G-d's curse!” cried the impatient monster, and
burst open the door. He was a man of gigantic stature,
between sixty and seventy years of age, and covered with
a suit of heavy armour. “I'll tell you what it is, sir,"
said he; “you must either arise on the instant, and dress
yourself and come along with me, else I will be under


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILIE
269
the disagreeable necessity of carrying you off as you are.
Don't ask a single question, nor make a single remark,
for there is not a moment to lose.”
“ Well, well, sir, since it must be so, it shall be as you
desire," said I, rising and dressing myself with perfect
coolness. I even joked about the Gordons, and their
summary mode of proceeding with strangers ; and hinted
at some of the late decrees in council against them.
“ The Gordons care very little what is decreed against
them in Edinburgh,” replied he; “particularly by a set
of paltry innovators.”
“I fear they are much altered for the worse since I
lived among them,” said I.
" It is the times that are altered for the worse, and not
we,” said he. “ The character of men must conform to
their circumstances, Mr Sydeserf. Of that you have
had some experience, and you will have more ere long.”
He said this in sullen and thoughtful mood, and I
was confounded at thinking whereto all this tended, though
I was certain it could not be towards good. The most
probable conjecture I could form was, that the Marquess
had sent for me, either to shut me up in one of the vaults
of the old castle, or throw me off the bridge into the
river, to let me know how to speak to a Gordon in the
hows of Strathbogie. But there was no alternative for
the present; so I marched down stairs before the vener-
able and majestic warrior, in perfect good humour; and
lo, and behold! when I went to the door, there was a
whole company of cavalry, well mounted, with drawn
swords in their hands, and my horse standing saddled in
the midst of them, held by a trooper standing on foot.
“ Good morrow to you, gentlemen," said I heartily.
“Good morrow, sir,” growled a few voices in return.
“ Now mount, sir, mount," said the chief of this war-
like horde ; I did so, and away we rode I knew not
whither.
It was about the darkest time of a summer night when
we set out, but the night being quite short, it soon began
to grow light, and I then could not but admire the figure
V.


270
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
of the old chieftain, who still kept by my left hand and
at the head of the cavalcade. He appeared sullen and
thoughtful, was clad in complete heavy armour, rode with
his drawn sword in his hand, a pair of pistols in his belt,
and a pair of tremendous horse pistols slung at his saddle-
bow. He appeared likewise to be constantly on the
look-out, as if afraid of a surprise ; but all this while I
took matters so coolly, that I never so much as enquired
where he was conveying me.
However, about the sun rising, to my great wonder, I
came into the ancient town of Inverury, which I knew
at first sight, and in which I had friends. This was the
very way I wanted to go and I could not comprehend to what
fate I was destined. We halted behind a thicket on the
right bank of the way, and a scout was sent into the
town, who instantly returned with the information that
· it was occupied by a party of the rebels. How heartily I
wished myself in the hands and power of these same
rebels; but such a thing was not to be suffered. The veteran
ordered his troop to make ready for a charge, and putting
me from his right hand into the middle of the body, he
made choice of some of his friends to support him, and
we went into the town at a sharp trot. No man meddled
with us, but we saw there was a confusion in the town,
and people running as if mad here and there. How-
ever, when we came to the old bridge over the Don, it
was guarded, and a party of infantry were forming on the
other side. To force the bridge was impossible, for
scarcely could two troopers ride' abreast on it, and they
had scaffolds on each side, from which they could have
killed every man of us. I was terrified lest our leader
should have attempted it, for he hesitated; but, wheeling
to the left, he took the ford. The party then opened a
brisk fire on us, and several of the Gordons fell, one of
them among my horse's feet, to my great hazard. I
thought the men were mad, for I could not at all see what
reason they had for fighting, and am certain a simple ex-
planation on either side would have prevented it. The
Gordons rode out of the river full drive on the faces of


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
271
their enemies, discharged their carabines and pistols, though
not with much effect, as far as I could judge, for few of
the party fell; however, they all fled toward a wood on
a rising ground close by, and a few were cut down before
they entered it. From that they fired in safety on the
Gordons, who were terribly indignant, but were obliged
to draw off, at which I was exceedingly glad, for I ex-
pected every moment for more than an hour to be shot,
without having it in my power either to fight or flee.
We rode into Kintore, and the old veteran, placing a
guard at each end of the town, led me to the hostel along
with six of his chief men and friends, and entertained us
graciously. The strong drink cheered up his grave and
severe visage, and I thought I never saw a face of more
interest. All men may judge of my utter amazement,
when he addressed me in a set speech to the following
purport.
" No wonder that my heart is heavy to-day, worthy
sir; hem! I have had a most disagreeable part to per-
form."-I trembled. " So I have, hem! I have lost my
chief, who was as a brother, a father to me from my
childhood,- Who was a bulwark around his friends, and
the terror of his enemies. Scotland shall never again
behold such a nobleman as my late brave kinsman and
chief. You may then judge with what feelings I regard
you, when I tell you that I have met you before, though
you remember me not. I was in the mock court of
justice that day when the old hero was tried by a jury of
his sworn enemies, and when your unexampled energy,
honour, and influence alone saved his life. I met you
at his house that evening, and had the pleasure of em.
bracing you once. I had nothing to bestow on you but
my sword; but I vowed to myself that night, that if ever
you needed it, it should be drawn in your defence. The
usage you received yesterday cut me to the heart. I
heard more than I will utter. Lord Gordon is now my
chief, and I will fight for him while I have a drop of
blood to spend ; but he shall never be backed by ole
Alexander Gordon in any cause that is unjust. I neither


272
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
say that your life was in imminent danger, nor that it
was not; but I trembled for it, and resolved to make sure
work. You are now out of the territory of the Gordons,
and lose not a moment's time until you are fairly in
Edinburgh. You will find some there from Castle Huntly
before you. It cuts me to the heart that I should ever
have been obliged to do a deed in opposition to the in-
clinations and even the commands of my chief—but what
I have done I have done. Farewell; and God be your
speed. You and old Glen-bucket may haply meet again.”
My heart was so full that I could not express myself,
and it was probably as well that I did not make too great
a palaver; for I merely said in return, that there was
nothing in nature that I revered or admired so much as
a due respect for the memory of the good and the great
that had been removed from this scene of things; and on
that ground principally I took this act of his as the very
highest compliment that could have been paid me.
[The Baillie then hasted to Edinburgh, where he found
matters going grievously to his injury. His party had
combined against him, in the full persuasion that he had
joined the adverse side, and for all his former interest,
he could never force himself forward again until Argyle's
return from London. The Marquess of Huntly had
moreover taken possession of his father's house, and shut
the doors of it in the Baillie's face, and then a litigation
ensued, which perhaps more than any thing renovated
his influence once more in the city.
Argyle never lost sight of his dependant's interest, and
appears to have paid a deference to him that really goes
far to establish the position which the Baillie always
takes in the estimation of himself. There is at all events,
one thing for which he cannot be too much praised. The
king had been accustomed to nominate the Provost and
Baillie of Edinburgh each year. From this we may infer,
that some favourite noblemen engaged in the administra-
tion of Scottish affairs, and who had some object to gain in
and through the magistrates of Edinburgh, gave the king
in such list as he wanted, and then that his Majesty


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE273
ATLLIE,
,
signed this list, and sent it to the counsel, with order to
choose their men. The Baillie was the first man to withstand
this arbitrary procedure, and he carried his point, not
perhaps by the fairest and most open means, but he did
gain it, which was a privilege of high moment to the city,
if the inhabitants had made a good use of it; but the
tricks of one party against another were not more pre-
valent, nor more debasing, than it appears they are at
this day of boasted freedom and enlargement; only the
nobles had then to canvass for the magistrates, whereas
the magistrates have now to canvass for themselves. But
in fact, some of the Baillie's narratives, if copied, would
be regarded as satires on the proceedings of the present
age.
We shall therefore pass over this part of the memoirs,
and proceed to one of greater import, which commences
with the beginning of the civil wars in Scotland. The
Baillie had taken the covenant at an early period, and
continued firm and true to that great bond of reformation.
The great Montrose was, it seems, at one time, a strenu.
ous covenanter; for the Baillie says he was present at
St Andrew's when the said Montrose swore the covenant;
and that there was a number of gentlemen and noblemen
took it on the same day of April 1637, and that forthwith
he began to raise men in his own country, all of whom
he forced to take the covenant before they were em-
bodied in his army.]
The Marquess of Huntly, continues the Baillie, hav-
ing raised an army in the North, for the avowed purpose
of crushing the covenanters, I was very strenuous at that
meeting that they should take him in time, and rather
carry the war into his own country than suffer him to
wreak his pride and vengeance on his covenanting neigh-
bours. The thing being agreed to, the gentlemen of
Fife and Angus instantly set about raising men, and I
returned to Edinburgh, and engaging Sir William Dick,
the lord provost, and all the counsel in the same cause,
in the course of nine days we raised a hundred and
seventy-two men whom I undertook to lead to our colonel,
z 2


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
-
275
sing to use their endeavour. I followed, and found
Thorburn in a back ground to the west of the town,
having about the half of the men collected, but keeping
them together with the greatest difficulty. As for Wil-
son, he was sitting on an old dike laughing, and so drunk
I could not know what he said ; I went up and began to
expostulate with him, but all the apology I could get
was vacant and provoking laughter, and some such words
as these—“It is really grand !" then “ he, he, he, Baillie.
I say, Baillie, it is really grand! What would Montrose
say if he saw- if he saw this ? Eh? O, I beg his par-
don; I do, I do, I beg his pardon. But after all it is
really grand ! he-he-he," &c.
Those that were at all sober continued to drag in their
companions to the rendezvous; but some of them were
so irritated at being torn from their cups, that they
fought desperate battles with their conductors. One of
them appeared so totally insubordinate, that I desired he
might be punished, to which Thorburn assenting at once,
he was tied to a tree, and his shirt tirled over his head.
He exclaimed bitterly against this summary way of pu-
nishment, and appealed to the captain. I said to Thor-
burn I certainly thought it as well to have Wilson's con-
sent; and then a scene occurred that passes all descrip-
tion. Thorburn went up to him, and says, “ Captain,
shall I or shall I not give John Hill a hundred lashes for
rioting and insubordination ?".
“For what?” says Wilson, without lifting his head
that hung down near his knee-“ some board in the na-
tion ! what's that?”
“ He has refused to obey orders, sir, and rebelled.”
“ Lick him, lick him weel ! thresh him soundly. Re.
fused to obey orders and rebelled! he's no blate! Thor-
burn, I say, lick him weel ; skelp him till the blood rins
off at his heels.”
The order was instantly obeyed, but the troop, instead of
being impressed with awe, never got such sport before.
They laughed till they held their sides, and some actually
slid off at a corner to have a parting glass in the mean time.


276
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
“Thorburn, what shall be done to get these men once
more embodied and set on the way ?" said I.
“ Faith, sir, there are just two ways of doing it, and
no more,” said he. “We must either wait patiently till
their money is spent or set the town on fire; and on
mine honour I would do the latter, for it is a cursed
shabby place, and the people are even worse than ours.”
“ That would be a desperate resource, sir," says I. " It
is not customary to sloken one fire by kindling another.
Cause proclamation to be made at the drum's head that
every man who does not join the troop in marching or-
der in a quarter of an hour, shall be taken up and punish-
ed as a deserter."
This brought together the greater part, but sundry
remained, and I left a party to bring them up as deser-
ters, unluckily the captain was one of them. Him I re-
primanded very severely, for he was in the council, and
being a poor spendthrift, had got this office for a little
lucre, which I considered no great honour to our fraternity.
Nothing further occurred during the next two days,
and the third we reached the army, which was drawing
to a head about Brechin, Fettercairn, and Montrose.
Our colonel, who was then only Earl of Montrose, met
me at Brechin, and many were the kind things he said
to me. I told him I was ashamed to meet him, for that
I had brought him a set of the greatest reprobates that I
believed ever breathed since the days of Sodom and Go-
morrah, and that I really was afraid they would entail a
curse on the army of the church.
He smiled good naturedly, and said, “ Keep your mind
at ease about that, Baillie, if the church and the land in
general can both establish their rights and purge thein-
selves at the same time, there are two great points gained.
Are they able, well-bodied men."
“ Their bodies are not so much amiss, my lord," said
I, “but as to their immortal part I tremble to think of
that." He joked with me, and said something about sol.
diers' souls which I do not choose to repeat, as it had
rather a tincture of Alippancy and irreverence for divine


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
277
things. He expressed himself perfectly well pleased with
the men, saying, “ he would soon make them excellent
fellows, and begged that we would send him thrice as
many greater ragamuffins if I could get them, for that he
would reform them more in one year than all the preach-
ers in Scotland would do in twenty." I said he did not
yet know them, and gave him a hint of their horrid insub-
ordination. My lord was not naturally a merry man,
but mild, gentlemanly, and dignified, nevertheless he
laughed aloud at this ; saying “it was I that did not
know them, for he would answer to me for their perfect
subordination."
I then sounded him on his plans of carrying on the
war, and tried all I could to induce him to an instant
attack on the Marquess of Huntly. But I found him
not so easily swayed as the town council of Edinburgh,
for when I could not manage them by reason, I found it
always possible to do so by intrigue and stratagem ; but
here my reasoning failed me, and I had no further re-
source. He assured me that Huntly was more afraid of
us than we were of him, and though he was encouraging
the Aberdeenians to their own destruction, he would take
care not to meddle with our levies; and, therefore, that
these should not be led into his bounds until they were
fairly drilled, so as to be a match for the best men in
Strathbogie. “How could I lead these men into battle
at present ?" added he.
“ If you could, my lord,” said I, for I wanted to lose my
arguments with as good a grace as I could : “ If you
could, my lord, you could do more than I could, for, not-
withstanding all the influence I seemed to have possessed
with our people, notwithstanding threats and scourges, I
could not get them out of Inverkeithing, where there
was some wretched drink, almost for a whole day; nay,
not till Lieutenant Thorburn came to me with a grave
face, and requested permission to fire the town about
them."
He laughed exceedingly at this ; nay, he even laughed
until he was obliged to sit down and hold a silk napkin


278
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
to his face. Thus were all my arguments for instant
and imperious war with Huntly lost, in the hopes of
which alone I had taken the charge of these recruits to
the north, yea, even though I assured Montrose, from
heaven, that in any engagement with Huntly in which I
took a part there was a certainty of ample and absolute
success, so perfectly assured was I of having day about
with him. He answered me that there was no gentle.
man of whose counsel and assistance he would be happier
to avail himself in such an emergency, but that the har.
vest was not yet ripe, nor the reapers duly prepared ; but
whenever these important circumstances fitted, I should
be duly apprised, and have his right ear in the progress
of the war.
I have dwelt rather longer on these reminiscences, be-
cause he turned out so great a man, and so great a
scourge to the party he then espoused with so much zeal.
Sorry was I when he deserted the good cause, and
though some of our own side were the primary cause of
his defect, yet I comforted myself with this, that he had
not been chosen by the Alinighty to effect the freedom
of this land. But often did I think with deep regret that
if the covenanting party had still been blessed with Ar.
gylo's political talents, and Montrose's warlike and heroic
accomplishments, we had remained invincible to all
sects, parties, and divisions. As for the great and gu-
preme Marquese of Huntly, I despised him as much as I
hated him, well knowing that his intolerable pride would
never suffer him to co-operate with any other leader, and
what could the greatest chief of the kingdom do by himself.
Montrose was as good as his word, for early in the
spring, he wrote for some ammunition and mortars, and
requested that I might be permitted to bring the supplies,
as a siege of Aberdeen and a battle with Huntly could
be no longer postponed ; and he added in a postscript,
“ Inform my worthy friend the Baillie that Captain Thor-
burn and a detachment of the Edinburgh troop shall meet
him at Inverkeithing, as a suitable escort to the fireworks."
Accordingly, on the 3d of February, 1639, I again


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BILLIE.
279
took the road to the north, at the head of a good assort-
ment of warlike stores, the most of which our new
General Lesley had just taken out of the Castle of Dal-
keith. Money was sorely awanting, but some of the
leading men of the committee contrived to borrow a
good round sum. My friend Sir William Dick lent them
in one day no less than 40,000 marks, against my counsel
and advice. They likewise applied to me, but I only
shook my head; Argyle was even so ungenerous as to
urge it, but I begged his lordship, who was at the head
of the committee, to show me the example, and I would
certainly follow it to the utmost of my power. This
silenced his lordship, and pleased the rest of the committee
well, for the truth is, that Argyle would never advance
a farthing.
Well, north I goes with the supplies, and, as our
colonel had promised, a detachment of my former rascals
under Thorburn, met me at Inverkeithing. Had all the
committee of estates sworn it, I could not have believed
that such a difference could have been wrought on men.
They were not only perfect soldiers, but gentlemen
soldiers; sober, regular, and subordinate, and I thence-
forward concluded, that no one could calculate what such
a man as Montrose was capable of performing.
· He welcomed me with the same gentlemanly ease and
affability as formerly, but I could not help having a sort
of feeling that he was always making rather sport of me
in his warlike consultations. He had a field-day at Old
Montrose, on a fine green there, and at every evolution
he asked my opinion with regard to the perfectness of
the troops in the exercise. I knew not what to say
sometimes, but I took the safe side; I always com-
mended.
At our messes we spoke much of the approaching cam-
paign. The men of Aberdeen had fortified their city in
grand style, and depending on Huntly's co-operation with.
out, they laughed at us, our army, and tenets, beyond
measure. There was a young gentleman, a Captain
Marshall, in our mess, who repeated their brags often for


LIFE OF AN EDINBURH BAILLIE,
281
“ Who is your master ?”
“ Oo he's a juntlemun o'the town, sur.”
“ The provost?"
“ The previce! Him a previce ! Nhaw.”
“ You are not a servant of the provost's, then ?"
“ Am nae a survunt to nee buddy.”
“ How far are you going ?”
“Oo am jeest gaun up to the brugg o' Dee yunder.”
“ What to do?"
“Oo am jeest gaun to bring three or four horse lads o’
bruggs and sheen that's needit for the wars. There will
mawbe be some beets among them tee aw, cudna be
saying for that, for they ca't them jeest brugs and sheen.
But aw think its lukely there will be some beets. Me
muster was varra feared that the rubels wud chuck them
fra ma is aw cum down, but he was no feared for them
tucking mysell.”
This was a great stretch of low cunning. He per-
ceived we needed the shoes, and thought we would let
him pass, that we might catch him with them on his re-
turn, and some of our serjeants winked to me to let him
go, but I suspected the draught.
“Have you no letters or despatches about you, young
man ?” rejoined I; “ for if you have you are in some
danger at present, notwithstanding all your lies about the
brogs and shoes and small mixture of boots.”
“Oo aw wut weel, sur, I ha nee duspatches, nor
naithing o' the kind, but jeest a wee buttie lattur to the
sheemuker.”
“ Show it me.”
“ Fat have ye to dee wi' the peer sheemuker's buttie
lattur?”
I ordered two officers to search him, but they that had
seen his looks when a packet was taken from his bosom
with this direction!
“ TO THE MOST HONOURABLE
AND MOST NOBLE
THE MARQUESS OF HUNTLY.”
I read out the direction in his hearing. “Ay, my
. 2 A


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
283
greatest danger, was so overpowered by ladies, apparent-
ly in a state of derangement, that he was driven perfectly
stupid. Reasoning with them was out of the question,
and the provost could not well order his garrison to put
them to the sword.
Montrose led his own two regiments against the pro-
vost. Lord Douglas attacked the middle part, and the
Fife and Strathmore regiments the north one, defended
by :be brave Colonel Gordon. All the points were at-
tacked at once ;-—the agonized cries of the women rose
to such an extent that I actually grew terrified; for I
thought the uproar and confusion of hell could not be
greater. It was impossible the provost could stand out,
though he had been the bravest man on earth. I must
say so much for him. Colonel Gordon withstood our
-men; boldly repelled them, and had even commenced
a pursuit. Montrose either had some dread or some
wit of this, for he pushed the provost with such force and
vigour that in a very short time, maugre all his efforts,
men and women in thousands were seen tearing down
the fortifications, levelling them with the soil; and a de-
putation was sent to Montrose to invite him to enter.
But first and foremost he had measures to take with Co-
lonel Gordon, who in a little time would have turned the
flank of our whole army, but that hero being now left to
himself, was soon surrounded, and obliged to capitulate.
Our men were now drawn up in squares in all the
principal streets, and stood to arms, while a council of
war was held, in which the plurality of voices gave it for
the city to be given up to plunder. The soldiers ex.
pected it, and truly the citizens, I believed hoped for
nothing better. I confess I voted for it, thinking my
brave townsınen would have enjoyed it so much. I know
it was reported to my prejudice, that I expected a princi-
pal share of the plunder myself; and that it was for that
single purpose I went on the expedition. Whoever rais-
ed that report, had no further grounds for it than that I
voted with the majority, several of them ministers and
servants of the Lord. I did vote with them, but it was


284
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
for an example to the other cities and towns of our coun.
try, who still stood out against emancipation.
Montrose would, however, listen to none of us. His
bowels yearned over the city to spare it, and he did spare
it; but to plague us, he made magistrates, ministers, and
every principal man in the city, swear the covenant on
their knees, at the point of the sword; and also fined
them in a sum by way of war charges, of which he did
not retain one mark to himself.
We now turned our face toward the highlands, to take
order with Huntly, and with a light and exulting heart
did I take the way, assured of victory. I missed no op-
portunity, by the way, of reprobating that chief's conduct
in first stirring up the good Aberdeenians to resist the
measures of the Scottish parliament and the committee
of estates, and then hanging back and suffering them to
lie at our mercy, when, in truth, he might have come
with the whole highlands at his back to their relief; for
at that time, save the Campbells and the Forbes's, there
was not a clan in the whole highlands sided with us.
Montrose could say nothing for Huntly, but neither
would he say much against him, till he saw how he would
behave. The honest man had, however, most valiantly
collected his clansmen (who had long been ready at an
hour's warning) for the relief of Aberdeen on the even-
ing after it was taken ! Ay, that he had! He had col.
lected 1700 foot, and 400 gallant horsemen under the
command of old Glen-bucket, and his son, Lord Gordon,
and had even made a speech to them; and set out at
their head a distance of full five miles, to create a stern
diversion in favour of the gallant and loyal citizens of
Aberdeen. At the head of this gallant array he marched
forth, until, at a place called Cabrach, he was apprised
by some flyers whom he met on the way, that the Earl
of Montrose with a gallant army was in full march against
him—that Aberdeen was taken and plundered, and all
the magistrates, ministers, and chief men put to the
sword.
I would have given a hundred pounds, (Scots I mean,)


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
285
to have been there to have seen my old friend Enzie's
plight, now the invincible Marquess of Huntly. He call-
ed a parley on the instant; ordered his puissant army to
disappear, to vanish in the adjoining woods, and not a
man of them to be seen in arms as the invaders marched
on ! and having given this annihilating order, he turned
his horse's head about and never drew bridle till he was
at the castle of Boggie in the upper district of the coun.
try. Thence he dispatched messengers to our com-
mander, begging to know his terms of accommodation,
But these messengers would have been too late to
have saved Huntly and the castle, had it not been for the
valour and presence of mind of old Glen-bucket and his
young chief, the Lord Gordon, who, venturing to in-
fringe the Marquess's sudden orders, withstood Montrose,
and hovering nigh his van, kept him in check for two
whole days and a night. Montrose perceiving how de-
trimental this stay would be to his purpose of taking his
redoubted opponent by 'surprise, sent off a party by night
round the Buck, to come between the Gordons and the
bridge. The party, led by one Patrick Shaw, who knew
the country well, gained their point, and began to fire on
the Gordon horse by the break of day. Glen-bucket
somewhat astounded at this circumstance, drew aside to
the high ground, but perceiving Montrose coming brisk.
ly up on him from the south-east, he drew off at a sharp
trot, and tried to gain the town, but there he was oppos-
ed by the foot that had crossed by the hill path. There
was no time to lose. We were coming hard up behind
them when Glen-bucket, and Lord Gordon rushed upon
our foot at the head of their close body of horse. They
could not break them although they cut down a number
of brave men, and the consequence was that all the men
of the three first ranks were unhorsed, and either slain
or taken prisoners; amongst the latter were both young
Lord Gordon and old Glen-bucket; the rest scattered
and fled, and easily made their escape, The conflict did
not last above six minutes, yet short as it was, it was
quite decisive.
2 a 2


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE. 287
bewailing their fate on the mountains ; he never found the
ladies of Aberdeen so gay, and every one of their mouths
was filled with the praises of Montrose, his liberality,
his kindness, and his gallantry! This was a hard bone
for the proud Marquess to chew-a jaw-breaker that he
could not endure; for the glory of a contemporary was
his bane ; it drove all the solemn league and covenant in
his galled mind to a thing little short of blasphemy. More-
over, he expected to have found all the college professors
and ministers of the gospel running about the streets,
squeaking and jabbering with their tongues cut out, and
instead of which the men seemed to have had their
tongues loosed, all for the purpose of lauding his adver-
sary, and preaching up the benefits of the new covenant.
Huntly saw that the reign of feudalism was at an end,
and with that his over-balancing power in the realm; and
then reflecting how easily he might have prevented this,
he was like to gnaw off his fingers with vexation : and
perhaps the thing that irritated his haughty mind most of
all, was the finding of that worship and reverence former-
ly paid to him in Aberdeen now turned into scorn, while
the consciousness of having deserved it made the feeling
still more acute.
In a word, the Marquess took the strunt, and would
neither ratify some further engagements which he had
come under, nor stand to those he had subscribed on
oath, but begged of Montrose, as a last favour that he
would release him from the bond of the covenant, the
tenor of which he did not understand, and the principle
of which he did not approve.
Montrose tried to reason calmly with him, but that
made matters worse. Then he told him, that he would
yield so far to him as release him from his engagement
for the present, but that indeed he feared he would re-
pent it. Grahame then rose, and bringing him his bond
in his hand, presented it to him with some regretful
observations on his noble friend's vacillation.
Huntly began to express his thanks, but was unable,
his face burnt to the bone, for he was so proud he could


288
ILEMARKABLE PASSAGLS IN THE
never express gratitude either to God or man, but he
was mightily relieved from his dilemma when Montrose,
with a stern voice, ordered hiin to be put in confinement,
and conducted a close prisoner to Edinburgh! I could
hardly contain myself at the woſul change that this order
made on his features. It was marrow to my bones to
see hiin huinbled thus far at the moment. I thought of
his ſelling me down, and kicking me in the mud, when I
was in a situation in which I durst not resist ; I argued
likewise of the way he used me with regard to his worthy
father's bequest. So as Montrose was striding out with
tokens of displeasure on his face, I called after bim, “ My
Lord Montrose, as I lie under some old obligation to the
noble Marquess, your prisoner, may I beg of you to be
honoured with the charge of conducting him to the gaol
of Edinburgh?"
“ With all my heart, Baillie," returned he; "only
remember to see him strictly guarded; for it is now
manifest that he is a traitor to our cause."
Having till now shunned the Marquens'presence, he
never knew till that moment that I was at his right hand
amongst the number of his enemies ; and then he cast
such a look of startled amazement at me! It was as if
one had shouted in the other ear, The Philistinea be upon
thee, Sampson! I was cheated if at that moment the
Marquess would not have signed ten molemn leagues and
ten covenants of any sort, to have been fairly out of his
friend the Baillie's clutches, and at the head of his clan
again. But it would not do; he was obliged to draw
himself up, and submit to his fate.
Lord Aboyne and the Lords Lewis and Charles, Gordon
of Glen-livet, and other three of the name, took the oaths
for themselves, and were net at liberty ; but Lord Gordon
and old Glen-bucket, having been taken in arms fighting
against the army of the estates, were likewise conducted
in bonds to Edinburgh.
[The Baillie's inveteracy against the Marquess of
Huntly continues the string on which he delights to harp
through the whole of these memoirs, and it is perhaps


288
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
never express gratitude either to God or man, but he
was mightily relieved from his dilemma when Montrose,
with a stern voice, ordered him to be put in confinement,
and conducted a close prisoner to Edinburgh! I could
hardly contain myself at the woful change that this order
made on his features. It was marrow to my bones to
see him humbled thus far at the moment. I thought of
his felling me down, and kicking me in the mud, when I
was in a situation in which I durst not resist; I argued
likewise of the way he used me with regard to his worthy
father's bequest. So as Montrose was striding out with
tokens of displeasure on his face, I called after him, “My
Lord Montrose, as I lie under some old obligation to the
noble Marquess, your prisoner, may I beg of you to be
honoured with the charge of conducting him to the gaol
of Edinburgh ?"
“ With all my heart, Baillie," returned he; "only
remember to see him strictly guarded; for it is now
manifest that he is a traitor to our cause.”
Having till now shunned the Marquess's presence, he
never knew till that moment that I was at his right hand
amongst the number of his enemies; and then he cast
such a look of startled amazement at me! It was as if
one had shouted in the other ear, The Philistines be upon
thee, Sampson! I was cheated if at that moment the
Marquess would not have signed ten solemn leagues and
ten covenants of any sort, to have been fairly out of his
friend the Baillie's clutches, and at the head of his clan
again. But it would not do; he was obliged to draw
himself up, and submit to his fate.
Lord Aboyne and the Lords Lewis and Charles, Gordon
of Glen-livet, and other three of the name, took the oaths
for themselves, and were set at liberty ; but Lord Gordon
and old Glen-bucket, having been taken in arms fighting
against the army of the estates, were likewise conducted
in bonds to Edinburgh.
[The Baillie's inveteracy against the Marquess of
Huntly continues the string on which he delights to harp
through the whole of these memoirs, and it is perhaps


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
289
the most amusing theme he takes up. I hope the char.
acter of that nobleman is exaggerated; indeed it must
be so, drawn by one having such a deadly prejudice
against him. For my part, having never, as far as I re.
member, learned any thing of that nobleman further than
what is delineated in these manuscripts, I confess they
have given me an idea of him as unfavourable as that of
his father is exalted. It is a pity the Baillie should have
been a man possessed of such bitter remembrances, and
a spirit of such lasting revenge, for otherwise he seems
rather to have been a good man, if measured with the
times. An acute and clear-headed man he certainly was
in many respects, but of all men the worst fitted for that
which he appears to have valued himself most on, the
conducting of a campaign against the enemies of the cove-
nant. Indeed I cannot be sure for all that I have seen,
for what purpose the leaders took him always to be of
their council on such occasions, but there can be no doubt
of the fact. We must give one further little relation in
his own words, before we have done with him at this
time, and then we shall accompany him into actions of
greater moment.]
I had settled every thing with my Lord Montrose how
I was to act when I came to Edinburgh; accordingly I
committed Huntly and his gallant son to the castle, where
they were put into close confinement as state prisoners.
Glen-bucket besought me to suffer him to accoinpany
them, but I informed him that my strict orders were to
take him to a common gaol in the high street. He said
it was but a small request that he might be suffered to
accompany his chief, which he knew my interest could
easily procure for him, and he again intreated me to use
it. I promised that I would, but in the mean time he
must be content to go as directed, to which he was
obliged to submit, but with his accustomed gravity and
gloominess.
When we came to the gate of the castle, I perceived
Sir William Dick, our provost, and Baillie Edgar, whom
I had appointed to meet us, so I turned and said to my


290
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THB
prisoner, “ Şir Alexander, I do not choose to expose you
in bonds on Edinburgh street at noon-day.”
“It does not signify, sir,” said he; “I am quite in-
different.”
“ I cannot yield to have it so," said I. “ Soldiers.
take off his chains ! and do you walk on before us as a
guard of honour. Yes, as a guard of honour, for honour
is a sufficient guard for the person of Sir Alexander
Gordon, of Glen-bucket.”
Morose and sullen as he was, he could not help being
pleased with this: he rose as it were a foot higher, and as soon
as the soldiers removed his bonds I returned him his
sword. At that moment the Lord Provost accosted him,
but his mind being confused he made a slight obeisance,
and was going to pass on.
“Sir Alexander,” said I, “this is my friend, the
honourable Sir William Dick, Lord Provost of Edin-
burgh ?”
Glen-bucket started, and then, with the politeness of
two courtiers, the two old knights saluted one another.
I then introduced Baillie Edgar and Mr Henderson, and
after that we walked away, two on each side of Glen-
bucket. He did not well understand this apparent cour-
tesy, for I perceived by his face that he thought it a
species of mockery. He spake little. I only remember
of one expression that dropped from him as it were spontan-
eously. It was an exclamation, and came with a burst
of breath-— Hah! on my honour, this is a guard of
honour indeed!”
As we approached the Tolbooth he cast a look at the
iron gratings, and was going to stop at the principal
entrance, but I desired him to walk on, for his apart.
ment was a little farther this way. When we came to
my house, which was one short stair above the street, I
went before him to lead the way, and on opening the
house door, the trance (passage) was completely dark by
chance, none of the doors leading from it being open.
“Come this way, sir," said I, “ follow me, and take care
of the steps." I looked behind me, and saw, between


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE
291
me and the light, his tall athletic form, stooping as if
aware of some danger by a quick descent: he had an
arm stretched out and a hand impressed against each
wall, and was shovelling his feet along the trance for fear
of precipitating bimself down some abyss or dungeon. I
could hardly help bursting out into a fit of laughter, but
I stood at the inner door till his great hands came upon
my head grasping his way, I then threw open my dining.
room door and announced my prisoner by name, Sir
Alexander Gordon of Glen-bucket, and he walked in.
Nothing could equal the old warrior's surprise, when
he was welcomed by nine of the most elegant and most
respectable ladies of the land. Some of them even took
him in their arms and embraced him, for none present
were ignorani of the noble part he had acted with regard
to me. All were alike kind and attentive to him. I in.
troduced several of them to him by name. “ This, Sir
Alexander, is my sister, Lady Sydeserf; this, sir, is Lady
Campbell, younger, of Glenorchy; this is Lady Dick,”
&c., &c. His bow to each was the most solemn and
profound imaginable, at length be bolted straight up as
with a jerk, and turning to me said in what he meant for
a very sprightly manner, “ On mine honour, Sir Baillie,
but you have a good assortment of state prisoners at
present. Are these, sir, all rebels against this new govern-
ment, called the committee of estates ?' Hey? If so,
sir, I am proud to be of the number.”
“ These are all my prisoners for the day and the night,
and all happy to see you are of their number, Sir Alex-
ander.”
Nothing could give me greater pleasure than the hilar-
ity of the old warrior that night. He was placed next
to my sister-in-law at the head of the table, the company
consisted of twenty-three, the wine circulated freely, and
Glen-bucket fairly forgot for that evening the present cloud
under which the Gordons lay, and that there were such
things as covenanters and anti-covenanters in the realm.
After the ladies retired, he took fits of upright thought-
fulness; (these are the Baillie's own words,) as still not


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
293
before. He sent evasive answers to Aboyne, suffering
him to raise his clan and advance southward in hopes of
support, till lo! he was met by his late adversary Mon-
trose, at the bridge of Dee, with a great army, though
not very well appointed.
The Baillie was not personally in this battle, for the
best of reasons, because the Marquess of Huntly was not
there in person to oppose him. The Baillie had his great
enemy safely under lock and key, else there is little
doubt that the former would have been at the battle,
which he however describes as taken from the mouth of
his friend Captain Thorburn.
He says, the army of the Gordons amounted to about
2,500 men, among whom were two strong bodies of horse.
Montrose had 4,000, but all new raised men, though
many of them inured to battle in former times. The
Gordons were well posted on the two sides of the river
Dee, but Montrose took them somewhat by surprise,
which he seldom failed to do with his enemies. The
battle was exceedingly fierce. Three times did the body
of the Gordons on the south side of the river repel the
attack of Montrose's squadrons, and defend the bridge;
and the third time, if the Gordons durst have left their
station, they had so far disordered the main or middle
column of the covenanters, that without all doubt they
might have put them to the rout. Montrose was terri-
bly alarmed at that instant, for a general attack of the
Gordons which he half confessed would have been ruin.
But the young Lord Aboyne, with all the bravery of a
hero, wanted experience; he lost that opportunity, and
with it the battle. For Montrose being left at leisure,
new-modelled his army; and some field-pieces which he
had formerly left at Brechin Castle arriving at that in-
stant, he advanced once more, won the bridge of Dee,
and in a short time gained possession of the field of battle.
Still the young lord drew off his troops to the high
grounds with such skill, that the conquerors could make
no impression on them. The carnage was nearly equal
on both sides.
v.
2 B


294
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
· The Baillie never speaks favourably of the king. He
says, in one place, they were more plagued with him than
any thing else. They never derived good from his plans,
which tended always much more to derange their mea-
sures than cement them. But of the jealousies and
heartburnings of the covenanting lords, he expresses
himself with real concern.]
The falling off of Montrose from our party, (says he,)
was a great grief of mind to me, though some of our lead-
ers seemed to rejoice at it. Lesly and Argyle bore all
the blame, for they were jealous of his warrior fame and
brilliant successes, and took every opportunity that oc-
curred to slight him. Yea, and as I loved the man, I
was not more sorry at his loss to us than for the loss of
his soul ; for he had now broken his most solemn oaths
and engagements, and lifted up the heel against the Most
High, setting him as it were at defiance, after all the zeal
he had shown in his cause. I had great fears that a
curse was gone forth against us, because of the leaguing
of men together, whom I knew to be of very different
principles ; and, among other things, it was matter of
great grief when Hamilton and General Ruthven, leagu-
ing together, set the Marquess of Huntly and his son
the Lord Gordon both at liberty ; whereas it was mani.
fest to every well-disposed Christian, that the good cause
would have been much better served by cutting off both
their beads. Argyle might have hindered this, but chose
not to intermeddle, Huntly being his brother-in-law, but
it was all sham, for he both dreaded him and hated him
as much as I did. Indeed I was so much displeased
with my Lord Argyle's carriage at this time, that I at
one time resolved to decline his patronage for the future,
and also to cease supporting him in his political views,
which I had uniformly done hitherto, He cheated the
men of Athol, and falsifying his honour, took their lead-
ers prisoners, and then marching a whole army of hungry
highlanders down among the peaceable inhabitants, plun-
dered and laid waste the whole country, burnt Castle
Farquhar belonging to the Earl of Airly, and also sacked


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
295
Airly Castle, spoiling some even of Montrose's own kin.
Was it any wonder that the latter was disgusted at such
behaviour ? But the country was now getting into a
state of perfect anarchy and confusion, so that after Mon-
trose's imprisonment and hard trial about signing the
Cumbernauld bond, I perceived that we had for ever
done with him.”
· [We must now pass over several years, the history of
which is entirely made up of plot and counterplot, rais-
ing and disbanding of armies, projects of great import, all
destroyed by the merest accidents, truculent treaties,
much parade, and small execution ; and follow our re-
doubted Baillie once more to the field of honour, the
place of all others for which he was least fitted, and on
which he valued himself most. Indeed, if we except his
account of the last parliament which the king held in
Scotland, and the last dinner which he gave to his nobi.
lity, there is nothing very original in the memoir. The
description of these is affecting, but as the writer was a
professed opponent to the king's measures, it might not
be fair to give such pictures as genuine.]
In April 1644, being then one of the commission of
the general assembly, I was almost put beside myself,
for we had the whole business of the nation to manage ;
and my zeal both for our religious and civil liberties was
such that I may truly say I was eaten up with it. The
committee of estates attempted nothing without us, with
us they could do every thing. We had been employed
the whole of the first day of our meeting in receiving the
penitences and confessions of the Earl of Lanark, who
had taken a decided part against the covenant. We
dreaded him for a spy sent by the king, and dealt very
severely with him ; but at length he expressed himself
against the king with so much rancour, that we knew he
was a true man, and received him into the covenant with
many prayers and supplications.
On retiring to my own house, I sat down all alone to
ponder on the occurrences of the day, and wondered not
a little when a chariot came to my door, and softly and


296
LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
gently one tapped thereat. I heard some whispering at
the door, as with my servant maid, and then the chariot
drove off again. I sat cocking up my ears, wondering
what this could be, until a gentleman entered wrapped in
an ample cloak. He saluted me familiarly, but I did not
know him till he had laid aside his mantle and taken me
by the hand. It was my lord the Marquess of Argyle ;
I was astonished, and my cogitations troubled me great-
ly. “My lord,” said I, “ God bless you! Is it your-
self?"
“ Did you not know me, my dear Baillie ?”.
“ How could I, not knowing you to be in this coun.
try ? I took you to be in London, watching over our
affairs there in parliament, and I was very loath to be.
lieve it was your ghost.”
“ Well, here I am, Baillie, post from thence, and on
an affair that much concerns every friend to the cove.
(nene ani , formed religion. Our affairs with his
majesty are all'blown up. This we expected and foresaw,
and we must now arm in good earnest for our country
and religion. Our affairs go on well in general ; but, O
Baillie ! I have received heavy news since my arrival.
Montrose has set up the king's standard on the Border,
and is appointed governor and commander-in-chief in
Scotland, and my brother-in-law Huntly, that most tur-
bulent and factious of all human beings, is appointed lieu.
tenant-general for the whole realm under him ; and while
the former is raising all the malignants on the two sides
the Border, the latter is raising the whole north against
us. What think you of these news, Baillie ? Have we
not great reason to bestir ourselves, and unite all our
chief men together, in interest as well as principle, and
that without loss of time ?"
“I tremble at the news, my lord,” returned I, “ but
merely for the blood that I see must be shed in Scotland ;
for I am no more afraid of the triumph of our cause than
I am of a second deluge, having the same faith in the
promises relating to them both. Besides, my lord, the
danger is not so great as you imagine from the coalition.


REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
297
The Marquess of Huntly, friend as he is of yours, will
never act in subordination with any created being, for
his pride and his jealousy will not let him. He may
well mar the enterprises of the other, but never will fur-
ther them. The other is a dangerous man, I acknow.
ledge it. His equal is not in the kingdom ; but he is a
forsworn man, and how can such a man prosper? I
blame you much, my lord, for the loss of him. Your
behaviour there has been so impolitic, that I could never
trust you with the whole weight of our concerns so well
again."
" Why, Baillie,” returned he impatiently," that man
wanted to be every thing. I made all the concessions
I could ultimately, but they would not do ; the time was
past. He was a traiior to the cause at heart, so let that
pass. Let us now work for the best. To-morrow the
danger must all be disclosed, both in the committee and
the Assembly's commission, and I desired this private
conference with you, that what I propose in the one,
you may propose in the other.”
" It was prudently and wisely considered, my lord,”
said I; “ for our only safeguard in this perilous time, is
a right understanding with one another. That which
either of us proposes will not be put off without a fair
trial ; and when it turns out that we have both proposed
the same thing and the same measures, these must
appear to our coadjutors as founded in reason and ex-
perience.”
“ Exactly my feelings," added he; " and neither of us
must give up our points, but bring to a fair trial by vote
should there be any opposition. There must be two
armies raised, or embodied rather, without delay. Who
are to be the commanders ?”.
“Your lordship is without doubt entitled to be the
commander of one," said I.
“ Granting this, whom are we to propose for the other?”
said he.
“ Not having previously thought of the matter, I am
rather at a loss," said I.
2 B 2


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
299
most resolute manner,” added he. “ It will mar their
levies for once."
“ It is a terrible affair," said I, “ to be gone delibe-
rately about for any sinister purpose."
" It is what they justly deserve," said he. “ They
are renegades and reprobates, every man of them ; liars
and covenant-breakers ; let the curse be poured out on
them. And now, my dear friend, if it turns out that I
must lead the covenanting army against my brother-in-
law, I will not proceed a foot without your company.
You shall be my chief counsellor, and next to myself
both in honour and emolument. In short, you shall com.
mand both the army and me. Give me your promise."
“ I think I can serve you more at home, my lord,”
said I.
“ No you cannot,” said he. You have an indefinable
power over Huntly. I have seen extraordinary instances
of it. He has no more power to stand before you than
before a thunder-bolt. Your very name has a charm
over him. I was in his company last year when your
name chanced to be mentioned. To my astonishment,
every lineament of his frame and feature of his counte-
nance underwent a sudden alteration, becoming truly
diabolical. "Wretch ! poltroon ! dog that he is ! ex-
claimed he furiously ; I'll crush the varlet with my foot,
as I would do the meanest reptile !"
“I will go with you, my lord,” said I. "'There shall
be nothing more of it. We will let him see who can
crush best. Crush me with his foot! The proud ob-
streporous changeling! I will let him see who will take
the door of the parliament-house first, ere long! They
would not cut off his head when they had him, though I
brought him in chains to them like a wild beast, and told
them what he was.”
“That's right,” said the Marquess ; “I like to see
you show a proper spirit. Now remember to push home
the excommunication. The great one let it be. Give
them it soundly."
“ It shall be done, my lord,” said I, “ if my influence


300
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
and exertion can bear it through. And moreover I will
lead the van of your army in the northern expedition
myself in person. I shall command the wing or centre
against Huntly, wherever he is. It is not proper that
two brothers command against each other.”
We then conversed about many things in a secret and
confidential manner till a late hour, when I likewise
muffled myself up in a cloak and conveyed his lordship
home.
The very next day, as soon as the prayer was ended,
I arose in my seat, and announced the news of the two
risings in opposition to the covenant, and all our flourish-
ing measures; and proposed that we should, without a
moment's delay, come to a conclusion how the danger
might be averted. I was seconded by the Rev. Mr
Blair, who confirmed my statement as far as related to
the north. Of Montrose none of them had heard. I
assured them of the fact, and proposed the Earl of Cal-
lander to levy and lead the army of the south, and Argyle
that of the north ; at the same time stating my reasons
for my choice, which I deemed unanswerable. There
was not one dissentient voice, provided the convention
of estates acquiesced in the choice.
I then made a speech of half an hour's length, recom-
mending that the sword of the Spirit should likewise be
unsheathed against them, and that, as a terror to others,
these rebels against the true reformed religion should be
consigned over to the spirit of disobedience, under whose
influence they had thus raised the bloody banner of civil
war. I was seconded by Mr Robert Douglas, a great
leader of our church ; but we were both opposed by Sir
William Campbell, another ruling elder like myself, and
that with such energy that I was afraid the day was lost,
the moderator, Mr David Dickson, a silly man, being on
his side. We carried it, however, by a majority, and
Mr John Adamson was chosen for the important work.
The crowd that day at the high church was truly ter-
rific, and certainly Mr Adamson went through the work
in a most imposing and masterly manner. My heart


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
301
quaked, and all the hairs of my head rose on end ; and I
repented me of having been the moving cause of con.
signing so many precious souls to endless perdition. I
could sleep none all the following night, and had resolv.
ed to absent myself from the commission the next day,
and spend it in fasting and humiliation, but at eleven
o'clock I was sent for on express to attend, and on going
I found new cause for grief and repentance.
I had given in a list of eight for excommunication,
precisely as Argyle gave them to me. I did not so much
as know some of them, but took them on my great
patron's word. They were the Marquess of Huntly, of
course he was the first; the two Irvines, of Drum; the
Laird of Haddo, and his steward ; the Lairds of Skeen
and Tipperty; and Mr James Kennedy, secretary to
Huntly. Judge then of my grief and confusion, when
on going into my place I found Mr Robert Skeen there,
entering a protest against our proceedings, in as far as
related to his brother, the Laird of Skeen, whom he as-
sured us was as true to the cause as any present; and
he gave us, as I thought, indubitable proofs of it.
I was overcome with confusion and astonishment, and
wist not what to say for myself, for I could not with ho.
nour disclose the private communication between Argyle
and me. I got up to address the meeting, but my feel-
ings and my conscience were so much overcome, that I
could not come to any point that bore properly on the
subject. Whereon Sir William Campbell, who had op-
posed the motion from the beginning, rose and said, “ Mr
Moderator, it is evident the gentleman is nonplussed, and
cannot give any proper explanation. I'll do it for him ;
the gentleman, sir, is like ourselves, he acts by com-
mission ; yes, sir, I say like us, he acts by commission.
We do so with our eyes open, in the name and by the
appointment of all our brethren ; but he acts, sir, with
his eyes shut; he acts, sir, blindfolded, and solely by the
direction of another. Is it any wonder, sir, that such a
man should run into blunders ? But since the thing
hath happened why let it pass. What is a man's soul


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILIE.
305
“ The meaning of it is, sir," said I, -and I said it with
a holy sublimity of manner-" The meaning of it is, sir,
that he knows I am born to chastise him in this world,
and to be his bane in a world to come.”
The poor fellow gaped and stared at me in dumb
amazement. I made him a present of 100 merks, and
the horse that he had rode on, which he accepted of
without again moving his tongue.
This was at midnight, and the next morning early, Ar-
gyle called a council of war, and proposed turning aside
from the direct route, and strengthening ourselves to the
eastward. The rest of the officers acquiesced, but I held
my.peace and shook my head.
“ What ! does our worthy friend the Baillie not ap-
prove of this measure ?” said Argyle.
“I disapprove of it mainly and decidedly," said I.
“Or, if you will lead the army to the eastward, give me
but Freeland's Perth dragoons, and as many chosen men
foot soldiers, and I will engage with these few to push
straight onward, brave the wild beast in his den, scatter
his army of hellish malignants like chaff; and if I don't
bring you Huntly, bound head and foot, his horse shall
be swifter than mine. I know the power that is given
me, and I will do this, or never trust my word again.”
“My lords and right trusty friends," said Argyle,
"you have all heard our honoured friend the Baillie's
proposal. You have likewise witnessed the energy with
which it has been made, so different from his accus.
tomed modest, mild, and diffident manner,-asure pledge
to me that he is moved to the undertaking by the Spirit
of the Most High; I therefore propose that we should
grant him the force he requests, and trust him with the
bold adventure.”
" If my cavalry are to be engaged,” said the Laird of
Freeland, “ I must necessarily fight at their head.”
" That you shall, and I will ride by your side, sir,”
said I. “But remember you are to fight when I bid
you, and pursue when I bid you ; as to the flying part,
I leave that to your own discretion."
2 c


***ARK DI&TABS $42** THX
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*1994*1* na ruampen of the fout into the other way
4 * , **.4 t onomon mom were seized with
breng arm, and we wo man nese te A
sentiment the two expedition. I was in patient to let
TV, huyon, taken thy menare, ma scuorice I SA
469) catary, atrum, Wixin ** tre three m ans
black drnyme, and mortals, 40 foot vers, Demar
them, I turk the road at their boui, teine then thing
**** v ſoul thuy horses, we halted no more til we de*
type Hyrbore the enemy. The Imird of Preeland lert the
bertse, and your Chatutis of Licho, the . We rode
et"wicht on to the thyrtis, and at even crossed the Don at
s place called the Old Pord, of Auld pace cub.
senamtly rendered famous for the triumph of migpity,
The weather was fine, and the waters very low; and I
propused, after feeling, our horses, that we should uarel
soll night, and surprise the Gordons early in the morning,
Accordingly west out, but on leaving the Dee, we got
into a wild motintain mth, and there being a thick dry
hame on the hills, we lost our way altogether, and knew
not whither we were journeying, north or youth. At
length we arrived at a poor village, having a highland
Dame, which I could not pronounce, and there asked a
guide for the town of lluntly. The men were in great
consternstion, running, from one house to another; for
our array through the haze appeared, even to my own
Fyre, to increase sevenfold.
We at length procured a guide by sheer compulsion,
I placed him on a horse before a dragoon, with orders to
kill him if he attempted to make his escape, and I assur-
ed him, that on the return of day, if I found that he had
not led tis by the direct path, I would cut him all into
simall pieces. Finding out that the hamlet belonged to
the Cordons, I was very jealous of the fellow, and kept
always beside him myself. “Now are you gure, you
tascal, that you are leading us in a straight line for Huntly?"
"Tuhay, and tat she pe. She pe leating you as straight,
sir, as a very tree, as straight as a whery rhope, sir,"


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
307
“ Had we deviated much ere we arrived at your
village ?”
“I dhont knhow, sir. Far did you pe casting them ?”
“ Casting what ?"
“ Why them divots you speaked of.”
“I mean, had we gone far astray ?"
“ Hu, very far indheed, sir, you could not have ghone
as far astray in te whoule world.”
One of my black dragoons, a great scholar and astro-
nomer, now came riding up and says, “I can tell your
honour that I got a glimpse of the heavens through the
mist, just now, and saw the polar star; this fellow is lead-
ing you straight to the north-west, in among the moun.
tains, and very near in a direct line from Huntly."
“Fats te mahn saying ?” cried the guide.
I seized him by the throat, and taking a naked sword
in my hand, I said, “ Swear to me by the great God,
sirrah, that you are conducting me straight to Huntly,
else I run you through the body this instant.”
“Huhay, she will swear py te muckle Cot as lhong as
you lhike."
I then put the oath to him, making him repeat it after
me, which he did till I caine to the words straight to
Huntly. To these he objected and refused to repeat
them; I asked the reason, and he said, “ Cot pless you,
sir, no man can go straight here py rheason of the woots,
and te rhocks, and te hills, and te mhountains. We must
just go or we can find an opening.”
“ The man speaks good sense,” said I, and we are
all fools ; lead on, my good fellow."
When he found that he was out of danger for the
present, his natural antipathy against us soon began again
to show itself, and he asked at me sneeringly,
" And pe tat your swear in te sassenach ? Tat is your
creat pig oath, I mean.
I answered in the affirmative.
" Phoo, phoo!" cried he, “ Ten I would nhot kive a
podle for an hundred tousand of tem. You will nhot pe tat
bittie stick in my hand te petter of it. Put you will


310
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
whither. I instantly chose out twenty of my black dra-
goons, and leaving the officers to settle with the Gordons
as best they could, I set off in pursuit of their chief. I
soon got traces of him, and pursued hotly on his track
till the fall of evening, when I lost him in this wise.
He had quitted his horse, and crossed the Spey in a
boat, while two of the gentlemen who rode with him led
off the rest of the horses down the south side of the
river. I followed in the same direction, but could never
discover at what place these horses crossed the river, for
no ford we could find, the banks being all alike precipitous,
and the river tumbling and roaring through one continu.
ous gullet. We passed the night most uncomfortably, in an
old barn, and the next morning, getting a ford, we proceeded
on the road, to Elgin, but lost all traces of the object of our
pursuit. My troopers tried to persuade me to return,
but I would not listen to them, and therefore I turned
westward again, until I came to the very boatman who
had ferried Huntly over the water the evening before.
They told me that he left them on foot with four attend.
ants, and that they were all so loaden with gold and silver,
that if their horses did not come round in a circuit and
meet them, they could not travel two miles further.
This sharpened our stomachs exceedingly, and we set
out after the enemy at a bold gallop. We had not ridden
far, till we were informed by a hind, that the Marquess
and his friends were lodged in a farmer's house straight
before us, occupied by a gentleman named John Gordon;
that the Marquess had changed his name, but several
there knew him, and that it was reported they were
loaden with treasure, which they were unable to carry
with them. In an instant we were at the house, which
we surrounded and took by assault, there being none in
it but John Gordon and a lad, and two maidens, all of
whom we took prisoners. We searched the house but
and ben, outside and inside, but no Marquess nor Lord
found we, but we found two bags, in which were con-
tained a thousand crowns of gold. I then examined all
the prisoners on oath, and released them ; but Mr Gor-


304
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
and hands were not weakened ; and that Huntly's sole
dependence lay on getting reasonable terms of accommo.
dation, and for that only he with difficulty kept his for.
ces together. This was the substance of all he had ga.
thered, principally from the country people, and he as.
sured me I might rely on it. This was blithe news to me,
He told me, likewise, that he was called in before Hun.
tly, who examined him regarding all the news of the
south. At length he came to this.
" Know you aught of the covenanters' army?"
“I was in St Johnston when they were there, my lord;
saw all their array, and heard the names of the leaders,
some of which I have forgot."
" What may be the amount of their army ?"
“ The numbers are considerable. I think Mr Norris,
with whom I lodged, said they amounted to 5,000, but
they are badly equipped, badly trained, and far worse
commanded. Your troops may venture to encounter
them one to two."
" Why, I heard that Argyle had the command."
“ Not at at all, my lord, he has the least command in
the arıny; he only commands the horse. Lord Kinghom
has a regiment, he is no great head, you know ; Lord
Elcho has another. But the commander-in-chief is I
assure you, a ridiculous body, a Baillie of Edinburgh."
" Thank you kindly for the character, Mr Hay,"
said I; “thank you kindly.” I was, however, highly
pleased with the fellow's ingenuity. "Thank you kind.
ly, Mr Lawrence," said l. "Well, what did the Mar-
quess say to that?"
"Say to that l' exclaimed he. " Why, the man went
out of his reason the moment I mentioned your name,
I never beheld any thing equal to it! I cannot compre.
hend it. His countenance altered ; his eyes turned out,
and his tongue swelled in his mouth, so that he could
hardly pronounce the words. Then he began and cursed
you for a dog of hell, and cursed, and cursed you, till he
fell into a sort of convulsion, and his officers carried him
away. What in this world is the meaning of it?"


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILIE.
305
“ The meaning of it is, sir," said I, -and I said it with
a holy sublimity of manner-" The meaning of it is, sir,
that he knows I am born to chastise him in this world,
and to be his bane in a world to come.”
The poor fellow gaped and stared at me in dumb
amazement. I made him a present of 100 merks, and
the horse that he had rode on, which he accepted of
without again moving his tongue.
This was at midnight, and the next morning early, Ar-
gyle called a council of war, and proposed turning aside
from the direct route, and strengthening ourselves to the
eastward. The rest of the officers acquiesced, but I held
my peace and shook my head.
“ What! does our worthy friend the Baillie not ap-
prove of this measure ?” said Argyle.
"I disapprove of it mainly and decidedly,” said I.
“Or, if you will lead the army to the eastward, give me
but Freeland's Perth dragoons, and as many chosen men
foot soldiers, and I will engage with these few to push
straight onward, brave the wild beast in his den, scatter
his army of hellish malignants like chaff; and if I don't
bring you Huntly, bound head and foot, his horse shall
be swifter than mine. I know the power that is given
me, and I will do this, or never trust my word again.”
"My lords and right trusty friends," said Argyle,
"you have all heard our honoured friend the Baillie's
proposal. You have likewise witnessed the energy with
which it has been made,_s0 different from his accus.
tomed modest, mild, and diffident manner,-a sure pledge
to me that he is moved to the undertaking by the Spirit
of the Most High; I therefore propose that we should
grant him the force he requests, and trust him with the
bold adventure.”
“ If my cavalry are to be engaged," said the Laird of
Freeland, " I must necessarily fight at their head.”
" That you shall, and I will ride by your side, sir,”
said I. “But remember you are to fight when I bid
you, and pursue when I bid you ; as to the flying part,
I leave that to your own discretion.”
2 c


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
307
“ Had we deviated much ere we arrived at your
village ?"
“I dhont knhow, sir. Far did you pe casting them?”
“ Casting what ?”
“ Why them divots you speaked of."
“I mean, had we gone far astray ?"
“ Hu, very far indheed, sir, you could not have ghone
as far astray in te whoule world.”
One of my black dragoons, a great scholar and astro-
nomer, now came riding up and says, “I can tell your
honour that I got a glimpse of the heavens through the
mist, just now, and saw the polar star; this fellow is lead-
ing you straight to the north-west, in among the moun-
tains, and very near in a direct line from Huntly."
“Fats te mahn saying ?” cried the guide.
I seized him by the throat, and taking a naked sword
in my hand, I said, “ Swear to me by the great God,
sirrah, that you are conducting me straight to Huntly,
else I run you through the body this instant."
“ Huhay, she will swear py te muckle Cot as lhong as
you lhike.”
I then put the oath to him, making him repeat it after
me, which he did till I carne to the words straight to
Huntly. To these he objected and refused to repeat
them; I asked the reason, and he said, “ Cot pless you,
sir, no man can go straight here py rheason of the woots,
and te rhocks, and te hills, and te mhountains. We must
just go or we can find an opening.”
" The man speaks good sense,” said I, and we are
all fools; lead on, my good fellow."
When he found that he was out of danger for the
present, his natural antipathy against us soon began again
to show itself, and he asked at me sneeringly,
“And pe tat your swear in te sassenach ? Tat is your
creat pig oath, I mean.
I answered in the affirmative.
“ Phoo, phoo!” cried he, “ Ten I would nhot kive a
podle for an hundred tousand of tem. You will nhot pe tat
bittie stick in my hand te petter of it. Put you will


308
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
soon pe an fhine rhoats nhow, and haxellent speed you
will pe."
He was laughing when he said this, and the trooper
who was behind him, perceiving that he was leading
straight on a thicket, asked him what he meant by that,
but all that he said was, “ Huhay, you shall soon be on
haxellent rhoats now;" so saying, he plunged his horse
into a bog, where it floundered and fell. The dragoon
that guarded the guide threw himself off, and tumbled
heels-over-head; but the guide, who was free of the stir-
rups, flung himself off more nimbly, and the next moment
dived into the thicket. Sundry pieces were let off after
him, but they might as well have shot against a brazen
wall. He laughed aloud, and called out, “ Huhay, fire
away, fire away; you pe te fery coot shotters, and you
pe an haxellent rhoats now; ha ha ha vou pe an ta
haxellent rhoats nhow'
We saw no more of our guide, and knew not what to
do; but finding a fine green recess in the wood, we
alighted and baited our horses, the men refreshed them-
selves, and at day-break I sung the six last verses of the
74th Psalm, in which the whole army joined me, making
most grand and heavenly music in that wild highland
wood. I then prayed fervently for direction aud success
against our enemies, while all the army kneeled around
me on the grass. After that the men rose greatly en-
couraged, and in high spirits.
We rushed from the hills straight upon Huntly before
noon, but met no army there. We got intelligence that
the army of the Gordons had divided; that Sir George
Gordon had led one of the divisions to the eastward, into
the braes of the Ithan, and had fortified the castle of
Haddo, and that the ministers were raising the whole
country around him to join Argyle, for the sentence of
excommunication had broken the arms of the Gordons.
That the Marquess of Huntly had retired up the country
with the rest, and had stationed them in fastnesses, while
he himself lay in the castle of Auchendoun. We rode
straight on for Auchendoun, in hopes stil] to take him


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
309
by surprise, although our friends assured us that our ap-
proach was known last night through all the rows of
Strathbogie, for it seemed the men of the village we came
to among the hills had run and raised the alarm.
About noon we came in sight of the Gordons, drawn
up on a hill to the south of the river, but owing to the
inequalities of the ground, we could form no right esti.
mate of their numbers. Young Elcho was for an im-
mediate attack, but that I protested against as a thing im-
practicable, owing to the situation of the ground. The
hill was full of shelves, lying all one above another, so
that they served as natural bulwarks, and to surmount
them with troops of horse was impossible; therefore, I
proposed to march straight on the castle, to take order
with the Marquess himself, for the whole bent and bias
of my inclination led me to that. Charteris grumbled,
and would fain have been at handicuffs, but the laird of
Freeland agreeing with me, we rode on, and the army of
the Gordons kept its station, only saluting us with a few
volleys of musquetry as we passed, which did not wound
above five men, and killed not one.
The castle of Auchendoun being difficult of access by
a regular army, we formed our men at a little distance
to the north-east, and I sent Major Ramsay with a trum-
pet to summon the Gordons to surrender. The con-
stable asked in whose name he was thus summoned, -
Ramsay replied, “ In the name of the king, and the com-
mittee of estates.” The constable said, “ That as to the
latter he had not yet learned to acknowledge its power,
but he had no orders from his lord to hold out the castle
against the king, whose true and loyal subject he ever
professed to be. After a good deal of reasoning, the
gentleman, on having Ramsay's word, came over to me
and conversed with all freedom. I remember little of
what passed, for there was only one thing that struck me
to the heart; the Marquess had left the castle that morn-
ing, with six horsemen only in his company !!
There was a stunning blow for me? I thought I had
him in the lurch, but behold he was gone, I wist not
2 c 2


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
311
don was very sore displeased at the loss of the gold which
I carried with me. “ Sir, that gold is neither yours nor
mine,” said he ; “it was left me in charge ; I swore to
hide it, and return it to the owner when called for, and
it shows no gentleman nor good Christian to come and
take away other people's gold without either ceremony
or leave.”
“ This money, Mr Gordon, belongs to a traitor to the
state," said I,—" to one that with the help of it was
going to kindle up the flames of rebellion and civil war,
and in taking it, I do good service both to God and man;
and, therefore, do you take care, Mr Gordon, that I do
not cause your head to be chopped off, for thus lodging
and furthering a malignant and intercommuned traitor.
For the money, I will answer to a higher power than is
vested in you, or him that deputed you the charge ; and
will cause you in a few days, if I return in peace, to be
taken up and tried by the legal authorities.”
In the mean time one of my black dragoons had been
busy kissing one of John Gordon's maidens and from her
he had learned many particulars that came not out on
oath. She told him the colours of all the horses and the
dresses of the men. The Marquess was dressed in tartan
trews of the Mackintosh stripes, had a black bonnet on
his head, and was entitled the Major. She told the way
the men went, and much of their conversation over-night
which she heard. The man they called the Major ac-
knowledged that he was bewitched, and the rest joined
with him, marvelling exceedingly at a power some hellish
burgess of Edinburgh exercised over him; and sundry
other things did this maiden disclose.
But from one particular set down here, it was evident
the Marquess was impressed with a horrid idea that I
was to work his destruction, and feared to look me in the
face more than he feared the spirits of the infernal re-
gions. I had the same impressions. I knew I would
some time or other vanquish him, and have my full re-
venge for all his base and unworthy dealings toward me.
A good lesson to all men in power to do that which is


312
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
just and right. As it was, my very name unmanned
him, and made him desert his whole clan,--who, amid
their native fastnesses, might have worn us out, or cut
us in pieces,-bundle up his treasures, and gallop for
his life.
Had I ridden straight for Forres that morning, I would
have been there long before hiin ; but suspecting that he
had fled westward into the highlands, I returned to Gor-
don's house, and was now quite behind him. On we
rode, without stop or stay, to the town of Forres, having
speerings of the party all the way ; but when we came
there, they were still a-head of us, having ridden briskly
through the town without calling. We pushed on to
the town of Finran, but there our evil luck predominated,
no such people having been seen there. We wist not
then where to turn, but thought of pursuing up the coast;
and as we were again setting out, whom should we meet
but my worthy friend Master John Monro, minister of
Inverallen, who was abroad on the business of the estates.
From him we learned, that five gentlemen at the village
on the other side of the bay were making a mighty stir
about getting a boat,—that they seemed pursued men,
and that two of the party who arrived first were so much
alarmed, that they took to the boat provided for the
whole, and had left their friends to their shift.
As there were only five of the party we were pursu.
ing, I now suspected that two had been despatched the
night before to procure this boat, and knowing the Marquess
to be of the latter party, I was sure he was left behind.
We made all the speed to the place that our horses were
able, but they were sore forespent, and just as we arrived
we saw a great bustle about the quay, and a small boat
wito four oars left it. I immediately discovered the Mar.
quess, with his tartan trews and black bonnet, and hailing
the boat, I desired her to return. The helmsman and
rowers seemed disposed to obey, but a great bustle arose
in the boat, and one of the rowers who leaned on his oar
was knocked down, a gentleman took his place, and away
shot the boat before the wind. I ordered my party to


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
313
fire into her, but then a scene of riot and confusion took
place. The men and all the women of the village flew
on us like people distracted, seized on our guns, took my
black dragoons by their throats, scratched their faces,
tore their hair, and dared them for the souls that were
within them, to fire one shot at the boat manned by their
own dear and honest men.
It was vain to contend : the boat was soon out of
reach, so I was obliged to yield to these rude villagers
and make matters up with them as well as I could ; but
I was indeed a grieved man for having taken so much
trouble in vain, and letting the great disturber of the
country's peace escape again and again, as it were, from
under my nose.
We took some rest and refreshment at the village, and
after communing long with myself, I determined still to
keep on the pursuit ; to ride westward, cross the Firth
to Rothiemay, and ride towards Sutherland, to intercept
the Marquess on his landing. Accordingly, we set out
once more, much against the opinion of my men, who
contended that we were too small a party to penetrate
into those distant regions ; but nothing could divert me
from my purpose, knowing as I did that Inverness, and
all those bounds, were in favour with our party and true
men. But behold that very night we were all surprised
and taken prisoners in the town of Nairn, by Captain
Logie and a full troop of the Gordons, who, getting some
intelligence of their chief's danger, had been on the alert
for his rescue.
When I was brought before this young officer to be
examined, I found him a very impertinent and forward
fellow, although I answered all his questions civilly.
When I told him I was pursuing the Marquess of Huntly,
to bring him to suffer for all his crimes, he cursed me for
a dog, and said the times were come to a sad pass indeed
when such a cur as I dared to pursue after the Marquess
of Huntly, a nobleman whose shoes I was not entitled
to wipe. He called me a puny burgess, a canting worth-
less hypocrite, and every opprobrious title that he could


314
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
invent: took all my hoard of gold, tied my feet and the
feet of my black dragoons below the bellies of our horses,
and led us away captives into the country of the Gor-
dons. I gave the young gentleman several hints to be.
ware how he maltreated me, for that I was a dangerous
personage, and never missed setting my foot on the necks
of my enemies; but all my good advice tended only to
make him worse. He used us very ill, and at length
brought us prisoners to the castle of Haddo, commanded
by Sir George Gordon, and fully provided for a siege.
We lay for some days without knowing what was going
on, often hearing the din of muskets and some cannonry,
whereby we understood that Argyle or some of his officers
had come before the castle, and sorely did we regret that
we had it not in our power to let our state be known to
our friends.
But there was one thing that I discovered which could
scarcely have been kept from our ears; I perceived there
were divisions within the castle, and that the other chief.
tains of the Gordon race were disgusted with Haddo's
procedure. On this subject I kept my mind to myself,
and the third day after we were immured, we had a little
more liberty granted us, and were rather more civilly
treated, then I knew the besieged were afraid, and wished
to make their peace. I was right. Argyle had heard
from our friends in Morayshire of our capture, and insisted
on our release before he would enter into any accommo-
dation with the besieged. We were accordingly liberat-
ed, and all my gold restored to me, and joyfully was I
received by Argyle and his friends, who lauded my zeal
exceedingly, although they did make some sport of the
expedition of my black dragoons and me which they de-
nominated “ the black raed.”
By this time, Master John Gordon was brought in a
prisoner, as also two of the boatmen who carried the
Marquess over to Caithness, where they had left him,
still posting his way to the north. Such a violent fright
did that great and proud person get from a man whom
he had bitterly wronged, and his few black dragoons, that


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
315
he never looked over his shoulder till he was concealed
among the rocks, on the shores of the northern ocean.
Finding that Lord Gordon, the Marquess's eldest son,
had, either through choice or compulsion, joined his uncle
Argyle, I got John Gordon and before his face, Argyle's,
and several others, consigned to the young lord his father's
treasure that I had captured, for which I got great praise.
I knew well enough Argyle would not suffer any part of
it to revert to the Huntlys again. The brave young
lord looked much dissatisfied; I was rather sorry for
him, for our troops had wasted his father's lands very
much.
It is only necessary to note here, that the 800 men
whom I left at Auchendoun met with little opposition in
those parts. They entered the castle and plundered it
of a good deal of stores, and then marched rank and file
on the army that was encamped on the shelvy hill, but
that melted away before them, for the men saw they had
nothing for which to fight.
As soon as I got private talk with Argyle, I informed
him of the strength of the castle, and the likelihood
there was that we would lose many lives before it; but
I added, “ I am convinced that Sir George's violent mea-
sures, are any thing but agreeable to the greater part of
the gentlemen within, for he is a boisterous and turbulent
person, and they cannot brook his rule. My advice
therefore, is, that you offer all within the castle free
quarter, providing they will deliver up the laird, and the
insolent captain Logie, to answer for their share in this
insurrection.”
Argyle returned for answer, “ that he approved of my
pacific measures, having no wish to shed his countrymen's
blood, but that surely the soldiers would never be so base
as to give up their leaders.”
I said, “ that I conceived the matter deserved a trial,
as the sparing of human blood was always meritorious in
the sight both of God and man.”
Accordingly Argyle, who never in his life rejected my
council but once, which he afterwards repented,-he, I


314
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
MA
invent: took all my hoard of gold, tied my feet a
feet of my black dragoons below the bellies of our
and led us away captives into the country of the
dons. I gave the young gentleman several hints
ware how he maltreated me, for that I was a dan;
personage, and never missed setting my foot on the
of my enemies; but all my good advice tended or
make him worse. He used us very ill, and at be
brought us prisoners to the castle of Haddo, comme
by Sir George Gordon, and fully provided for a sies
We lay for some days without knowing what was po
on, often hearing the din of muskets and some came
whereby we understood that Argyle or some of his oli
had come before the castle, and sorely did we regret
we had it not in our power to let our state be know
our friends.
which
But there was one thing that I do
scarcely have been kept from o
were divisions within the cast!
tains the Gordon race w
On this subi
4 day at

Pro
taid, and
Argyle
capture, a
ar into
ere accordi
me, and
nids, who
d makes
goong and
John Go
the bo



LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BALL
317
AILLIE.
curious in such
e never looked over his shoulder till
mong the rocks, on the sum of the
Finding that Loni Gonion, the
ai, either through cinsiez com
gyle, I got John Gardenador
nd several others consignatie
easure that I hai cate, fi
knew well enogle
Terti
to revert to the Fat
ed looked me
m, iar outro
ar, [this must have
from Argyle, en-
highlands, as he
cil and assistance,
to set out on an
commanded by
any thing to do
ion, and stood in
assistance would
d my noble friend,
had no liberty of
on ; but I would
Slies and interests
marts. They
a good deal of
melted may be
Walking for what
another letter ex-
come to him with-
e he found a blank
could not otherwise
i friend Mr Mungo
prayers. To whet
Huntly had again
id crossed Glen-Roy
Gordons, to urge on
ume, and without this
for I felt assured,
my heart, that I
be a scourge to
hould bring his
Mr Law and
after a difficult
liere we found
ed in council,
y 79191
ito Mid-Lorn,
mercy; and


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
317
civic and parliamentary annals to those curious in such
matters. ]
Some day about the close of the year, [this must have
been, A. D. 1644,] I received a letter from Argyle, en-
treating me to attend him in the west highlands, as he
never stood more in need of iny council and assistance,
than at that instant; he being about to set out on an
expedition against a powerful army, commanded by
dangerous and experienced leaders.
I answered that I liked not having any thing to do
with Montrose, for I knew his decision, and stood in
dread of him, therefore I judged my assistance would
rather be prejudical to the good cause and my noble friend,
than otherwise ; and that moreover, I had no liberty of
absence from the council of the nation ; but I would
never lose sight of furthering his supplies and interests
where I was.
But all this would not serve, I got another letter ex.
press from Dumbarton, adjuring me to come to him with-
out any loss of time, for in my absence he found a blank
in his counsels and resolutions which could not otherwise
be supplied; and to bring my reverend friend Mr Mungo
Law with me, to assist us with his prayers. To whet
me on a little more he added, that Huntly had again
issued froin his concealment, and had crossed Glen-Roy
at the head of a regiment of the Gordons, to urge on
and further Montrose's devastations.
This kindled my ardour to a flame, and without this
instigation I would not have gone; for I felt assured,
even in the most inward habitation of my heart, that I
was decreed and directed from above, to be a scourge to
Huntly, and an adder in his path, until I should bring his
haughty brow to the dust. Accordingly, Mr Law and
I set out, in the very depth of winter, and after a difficult
journey we arrived at Dumbarton Castle, where we found-
our principal covenanting leaders assembled in council,
and a powerful army in attendance.
Argyle's plan was to march straight into Mid-Lorn,
which the royal army then wasted without mercy; and
2 D


316
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
say, came before the castle, and by proclamation offered
the terms suggested by me. The proffer was no sooner
made than the gates were thrown open, Argyle and his
friends were admitted, and Sir George Gordon and cap.
tain Logie delivered into our hands, well bound with
ropes. I asked the captain how he did ; but he would
not speak, and afterwards, when he did speak, he answered
me as proudly and as insolently as ever. My kind friend
and patron did me the honour that day to say, before
sundry noblemen and gentlemen, that he esteemed my
advice as if one inquired at the oracles of God.
And now the rebels being wholly either reduced or
scattered, we returned straight to Edinburgh with our
two prisoners, and had their heads chopped off, publicly,
on the 19th of July, at the Market-Cross.
[This was summary work with a vengeance! If this
narrative of the honest Baillie's detail be, as it professes,
nothing but simple literal facts, it is certainly an extraor-
dinary story, and may well be denominated a remarkable
passage in his life. But without all doubt, his stories of
the Marquess of Huntly must be swallowed with caution;
for such a rooted hatred and opposition could not fail to
produce exaggeration. The idea which the writer en-
tertains of having a power over the destiny of that noble-
man, invested in him by the Almighty, as a reward for
former injuries, is among the most curious superstitions
of the age.
In the following parliament, a Sir John Smith, and our
friend the Baillie, represent the city of Edinburgh ; on
which occasion, the latter has the honour of knighthood
conferred on him. We must, notwithstanding, still de.
nominate him by our old familiar title, the Baillie, as it
sounds best in our ears, and gives a novelty to the great
events in which he was engaged.
His details of parliamentary business are jumbles of
confusion and absurdity, and contain many decrees un-
worthy the councils of a nation struggling for their liber.
ties, civil and religious ; we must therefore follow the
Baillie to his next great exploit in the field, and leave his


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE,
317
civic and parliamentary annals to those curious in such
matters.]
Some day about the close of the year, [this must have
been, A. D. 1644,] I received a letter from Argyle, en-
treating me to attend him in the west highlands, as he
never stood more in need of any council and assistance,
than at that instant; he being about to set out on an
expedition against a powerful army, commanded by
dangerous and experienced leaders.
I answered that I liked not having any thing to do
with Montrose, for I knew his decision, and stood in
dread of him, therefore I judged my assistance would
rather be prejudical to the good cause and my noble friend,
than otherwise ; and that moreover, I had no liberty of
absence from the council of the nation ; but I would
never lose sight of furthering his supplies and interests
where I was.
But all this would not serve, I got another letter ex.
press from Dumbarton, adjuring me to come to him with-
out any loss of time, for in my absence he found a blank
in his counsels and resolutions which could not otherwise
be supplied ; and to bring my reverend friend Mr Mungo
Law with me, to assist us with his prayers. To whet
me on a little more he added, that Huntly had again
issued from his concealment, and had crossed Glen-Roy
at the head of a regiment of the Gordons, to urgeon
and further Montrose's devastations.
This kindled my ardour to a flame, and without this
instigation I would not have gone; for I felt assured,
even in the most inward habitation of my heart, that I
was decreed and directed from above, to be a scourge to
Huntly, and an adder in his path, until I should bring his
haughty brow to the dust. Accordingly, Mr Law and
I set out, in the very depth of winter, and after a difficult
journey we arrived at Dumbarton Castle, where we found
our principal covenanting leaders assembled in council,
and a powerful army in attendance.
Argyle's plan was to march straight into Mid-Lorn,
which the royal army then wasted without mercy; and
2 D


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE,
317
civic and parliamentary annals to those curious in such
matters.]
Some day about the close of the year, [this must have
been, A. D. 1644,] I received a letter from Argyle, en-
treating me to attend him in the west highlands, as he
never stood more in need of iny council and assistance,
than at that instant; he being about to set out on an
expedition against a powerful army, commanded by
dangerous and experienced leaders.
I answered that I liked not having any thing to do
with Montrose, for I knew his decision, and stood in
dread of him, therefore I judged my assistance would
rather be prejudical to the good cause and my noble friend,
than otherwise ; and that moreover, I had no liberty of
absence from the council of the nation ; but I would
never lose sight of furthering his supplies and interests
where I was.
But all this would not serve, I got another letter ex.
press from Dumbarton, adjuring me to come to him with-
out any loss of time, for in my absence he found a blank
in his counsels and resolutions which could not otherwise
be supplied; and to bring my reverend friend Mr Mungo
Law with me, to assist us with his prayers. To whet
me on a little more he added, that Huntly had again
issued froin his concealment, and had crossed Glen-Roy
at the head of a regiment of the Gordons, to urge on
and further Montrose's devastations.
This kindled my ardour to a flame, and without this
instigation I would not have gone; for I felt assured,
even in the most inward habitation of my heart, that I
was decreed and directed from above, to be a scourge to
Huntly, and an adder in his path, until I should bring his
haughty brow to the dust. Accordingly, Mr Law and
I set out, in the very depth of winter, and after a difficult
journey we arrived at Dumbarton Castle, where we found-
our principal covenanting leaders assembled in council,
and a powerful army in attendance.
Argyle's plan was to march straight into Mid-Lorn,
which the royal army then wasted without mercy; and
V
2 D


322
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
Buchan, a dreadful march in such weather. We swal-
lowed all this for truth, and I believe the men told the
truth as far as they knew. But behold at the very time
Argyle was questioning them in my presence, there comes
news that the advanced guard of Montrose's army and
ours had had a sharp encounter at the ford of the river
Spean; that the latter had been defeated with a severe
loss, and was in full retreat on the camp. ,
“ Secure the two traitors,” cried Sir Duncan, and
mounting he galloped through the camp, marshalling the
troops under their several officers in gallant style. Argyle,
Kilmere, and myself, remained questioning the deserters.
They declared the thing impossible, as they had come in
the very line of march, and neither saw nor heard of a
retrograde motion, and offered to answer with their lives
for the truth of their statement.
Argyle was convinced, so was I; so were all who
heard the men's asseverations, and the simplicity with
which they were delivered. The captain of the advan-
ced guard was sent for, and strictly examined. He could
not tell whether the army of Montrose' had returned, and
came against us or not. “I had led my men over the
river Spean, on the ice,” said he, “lest it should break
up, as a thaw seemed to be coming on. They went slid-
ing over in some irregularity, and all the while I perceiv-
ed the bare heads of a few fellows peeping over the ridge,
immediately before us. I took them for boys, or country
people ; yet still, as the men came over, I drew them up
on the opposite side to this. When about two-thirds
were over, a whole regiment of armed men came rushing
down on us at once, running with all their force, and
uttering the most terrible shouts. We had firm footing,
and I thought might have repelled them, but some of
our men who were scrambling on the ice at the time re.
turned, and began a making for this side. Flight of all
things, is the most contagious. I have often seen it, and
on seeing this I lost hope. In five minutes after this
iny regiment broke, and ran for it; and many were kill-
d, or taken floundering on the ice. We, however, drew


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
323
up on the near bank, and retreated in order. I there got
a full view of the men, and knew them for a regiment of
the M‘Donalds; but whether Keppoch's men of the braes,
or M Ranald's I could not destinguish."
We were all convinced that this check was nothing
more than the Lochaber clans trying to impede our march,
till Montrose got out of the fastnesses of the mountains;
but Auchenbreck was doubtful, and caused our army to
rest on their arms all night, sure of this, that if Montrose
had returned, he would try to surprise us by a night at-
tack. The night passed in quietness, save the commo-
tion of the elements, which became truly awful. The
evening had been light; for the sky though troubled
like, was clear; and the moon at the full. But at mid-
night the thaw commenced; the winds howled, and the
black clouds hung over the pale mountains, and whirled
in eddies so terrific, that my heart was chilled within me!
and my spirit shrunk at the madness of mankind, to be
thus seeking one another's lives, amid the terrors of the
storm and the commotion of conflicting tempests. I
spent the night in fasting and prayer, fervently commit-
ting us and our cause to the protection of the Al-
mighty.
My noble friend had no more rest than myself. He
lodged in the same house with me down on the shore,
but in a different apartment; messengers arrived every
half hour, and still he was impatient for the return of the
next. About four in the morning he sent for me, and
on hasting to his apartment, I was grieved to the heart
at seeing him so much agitated. He was lying on his
field couch with all his clothes on, save his coat, and his
head swathed with flannel above his tasselled night cap.
When I went in, he was complaining to his attendants
of the uncertainty in which Sir Duncan kept him, and
saying it was most strange that it could not be ascertain.
ed whether an army withstood us or only an adverse
clan. I saw he wished it the latter, and that with an
earnestness that greatly discomposed him; his attend.
ants seemned even shy of communicating their true senti.


324
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
ments, and sided with their lord in conjecturing that the
troops that opposed our march, was only a party raised
by some of the chieftians of Lochaber, to impede and
harass us in the pursuit.
When the Marquess perceived me, he called me to
him, and addressed me with his wonted courtesy, asking
how I did, and how I had rested, but without giving me
time to answer, began a complaining of headach and
fever : said it was most unfortunate in our present cir.
cumstances, but that it behoved not him to complain,
seeing it was the Lord's will to lay that affliction on his
unworthy servant. My heart failed me when I heard
him speak in this guise. I could not answer him, but
taking his hand, I felt his pulse, and found both from
that, and the heat on his skin, that he was fevered to a
considerable degree. I knew it arose sheerly from agi.
tation and want of rest, but I had not the face to tell him
so, only I desired him to compose himself until the
morning, and that then the fresh air and the exercise of
the muster would invigorate his spirits; and that in the
mean time I would go out and see that all was safe, and
the martial lines in proper order.
I took my cloak, mounted my horse, and with a heavy
heart rode out to the plain on which our army lay in
close files, flanked by the old fortress and a bay of the
Firth on the left, and an abrupt steep on the right. The
morning was dismally dark, and the rain and sleet pouring
in torrents, but the wind was somewhat abated. I rode
about for some time among the lines, and was several
times challenged in Gaelic, for in the hurry at head
quarters, I had neglected to bring a guide with me. I
tried to find my way back again, but could not make it
out, for not a man could I find who could speak English,
until at length I was brought to the young laird of Kil-
kreman, and he spake it but right indifferently. I asked
him to lead me to Auchenbreck, he replied as well as he
could, that it might not be easily done, for he had been
moving about all night from line to line, keeping every
one on the alert.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
325
I asked him Sir Duncan's opinion of this army that
seemed to have risen out of the earth.
“ Sir Duncan is shy of giving his opinion," said he,
“but from the concern that he manifests, it is apparent
that he dreads danger."
56 What is your own opinion?" said I.
“I would not give a rush for the danger," said he. “It
is merely caused by Keppoch's men, and the tail of the
Camerons, collected to harass us a little. I will under-
take with my Glenorchy regiment alone, to drive them
like a herd of deer. If Montrose have come from Loch-
ness since Friday morning, across the Braes of Lochaber,
he and his army must have come on wings.”
Not knowing the country, I had nothing to say; but
in searching for Sir Duncan, we came among the lowland
regiment, which we brought with us from Dumbarton.
A group of these were in warm discussion on the pre-
sent state of affairs. Campbell addressed them in
Gaelic ; but I held my peace, eager to hear their senti.
ments.
66 Wha is they ?” whispered one.
“ Hout, hout, -twa o' our heeland offisher's,--they
dinna ken a word we're speakin.”
“ Then, David, what have you to say to my argument?"
“I have to say, John Tod, that nane kens what Mon-
trose will do but them that hae foughten under him, as
I hae doon. His plans are aboon a' our capacities : for
let me tell ye, John, if ye be gaun to calculate on ony
o’Montrose's measures, ye maun fix on the ane that's
maist unlikely to a' others that could be contrived be
mortal men.”
“ But dear Davie, man, the thing's impossible.”
“It's a grit lee, man. I tell ye, John Tod, he does
a thing the better that it's impossible.”
“Hout, hout! there's nae arguifying wi' you ava gin
ye say that. But Davie, ye see, if the way be that
lang, an' that rough, that a single man coudna' travel it
in a black-weather day, how could a hale army traverse
it through snaw and ice?"


326
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
" It's a' that ye ken about the matter, John Tod. Do
ye no ken that Montrose's army's a' cavalry?".
• What ? his fit sodgers an' a'? Are a' his bare-
hurdied clans muntit on horses?"
“Ay, that they ir, John. Fit an' horse an' a' is turn-
ed cavalry. Have nae they ta'en awa near three thoos-
and o' the pick o' the horses in a' Argyle ? Ay, when
they came down the deel's stairs, every man had a pony
to ride, an' ane to carry his wallet: and let me tell ye,
Jock Tod, thae ponies can travel a hundir mile i’ the
day; an' for roads, they like an ill ane far better nor a
good ane. I'm neither a prophet, nor a prophet's son,
but I venture to predict that Montrose, an'a' his clans at
his back, will rise out o' the stomach of that glen the
morn, an' like a flood frae the mountains, bear the red-
haired Campbell's, an' us wi' them into the waves o'the sea.”
“ Fat pe te Sassenach tog saying ?” said young Kil-
rennan.
“ He is threatening to drive his enemies into the
waves of the sea,” said I.
“ He will drive them to the rocks in te first place," said
Campbell. Shortly after that we found Sir Duncan of
Auchenbreck, whose care and concern for his kinsmen
could not be equalled, and with him I had a conference
of considerable length. He had been able to discover
nothing. If there was an army, it was kept in close
concealment, but he was disposed to think there was
one, else the flying parties would not have been so bold
and forward. “They are at this moment," said he,
“ hovering so nigh our columns there on the right, as to
be frequently exchanging volleys with them by way of
salutation. A band of Caterans would scarcely dare to
do so. But if God spare us to see the light of day, our
doubts shall soon be at an end.”
“Do you mean to begin the attack, or to await it?"
said I.
“ I never wait an attack," returned he ; “ for my kins.
men have not experience in military tactics enough to
repel one, by awaiting it firmly, or forming and wheeling


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
327
at the word of command, in which one single mistake
would throw all into irremediable confusion. I must
begin the attack, and then I can depend on my Camp-
bells for breaking a front line to pieces with the best
clans among them.”
I then took him aside, and in his ear told him of the
state in which I left the Marquess; that he really was
ill, and, as I judged, somewhat delirious.
He sighed deeply, and said a sight of him mounted at
the head of his men, was better than a thousand spears;
that he never could understand his chief, for he had seen
instances in which he showed the most determined
courage, but that, most unaccountably, he had not the
command of it at all times, and never when most requir-
ed. “ As it is,” continued he, “ we must never expose
him in his present nervous state, to set a ruinous example
to the men, who adore him. Do you, therefore, detain
him till the battle is fairly begun, and then, when the
first step of the race is taken, you shall see him the
bravest of the brave.”
I applauded the wisdom of Sir Duncan, and said it
was the very step I was anxious for him to take,
being certain that the Marquess, in his present state of
trepidation, would only derange his measures ; and, at
all events, I was sure he would not suffer. the army to
be moved out of their present strong position to be led
to the attack. .
“ In the name of God keep him to yourself, - keep
him to yourself,” said he vehemently. “Do you call
that a strong position? It is the very reverse for a
highland army. We are too closely crammed together,
and an attack of an hundred horse from that ridge would
ruin our fine array in one instant. That a strong posi-
tion! I would not give yon ridge of rock for a thousand
of such positions. Good morrow. My kindest respects
to my chief, and tell him all is safe. I must be going,
and see what is going on yonder ;" for at that time some
volleys of musketry echoed fearfully, among the rocks
up towards the bottom of Ben-Nevis.


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
329
retreat, and never beheld aught more conclusive, I was
convinced they were a herd of caterans, sent to harass us
and retreat to their inaccessible fastnesses on the approach
of danger. With this impression fixed on my mind, I
went in again to my noble friend, in excellent spirits. I
found him equipped for the field, but looking even worse
than before, though pretending that he was a great deal
better. I assured him of what I believed to be the truth,
that the opposing army was nothing more than some rem-
nants of the malignant clans collected after depositing
their spoil, to attend us on our march, and impede it as
much as lay in their power; for that I had myself seen
them put to flight by the Glenorchy regiment, and chased
to the hills like so many wild goats or ragged kyloes.
The spirits of the Marquess brightened up a little, but
there either was a lurking disease, or a lurking tremor,
that had overcome him. He lifted his hand to his brow,
and gave thanks to God that we were thus allowed to
enjoy his holy day in peace and quietness; he then ask-
ed for Mr Law, and being told that he was on board the
galley, he proposed that we should go to him, and join
in our morning devotions.
The Marquess's splendid galley, The Faith, lay with-
in a half bowshot of the shore, immediately behind the
house where we quartered, but the store-ship lay farther
away beyond the mouth of the river. A little gilded
boat with pennant and streamers, and having The HOPE
painted in golden letters on her stern, bore us on board,
and we had not well put off from the shore till the thun.
ders of musketry and field-pieces began anew to echo
among the rocks. The Marquess lifted his eyes to Ben.
Nevis, and remarked what a tumultuous sound was pro-
duced by the storm and the rushing torrents; (for by this
time the floods of melted snow that poured from the
mountains were truly terrific ;) he made no allusion at
all to the sounds of the battle that mingled in the uproar,
which were then quite audible, although it was but par-
tially commenced.
He was the first conducted on board. There were
v.
2 E


330
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
eight or nine of us, and I was about the last, or rather I
think the very last. Every one having something to
take on board with him, I had a good while to sit astern,
and I observed the Marquess lift his eyes to the hill, and
instantly his countenance changed from dark to a deadly
paleness, and from that to a livid blue. My very hairs
rose on my head, for I had bad forebodings, and I drea-
ded that his fine arıny was broken. I hasted on board,
and soon was aware of the cause of his alarm. It was
the bray of trumpets audibly mixing with the roar of the
elements, producing an effect awfully sublime, but appal-
ling to those who but now hoped to spend a sabbath in
the exercises of devotion.
“ Is not that the sound of trumpets I hear ?” said Ar-
gyle.
“ It is, my lord,” said I.
" In the name of God, what does it portend?” said he.
“ It portends, my lord, that Montrose is leading a re-
giment of horse to the onset.”
“ Then God prosper and shield the right,” cried he
emphatically ; “ Mr Law, let us to our devotions short-
ly, and commit our cause to the Lord of Hosts. Then
to the battle-field, where our presence may be much
wanted,” .
Mr Law led the way to the cabin. I did not go down.
I could not; for with all the desire to join in prayer that
a poor dependent creature could inherit, I wanted the
ability ; so much were my thoughts and my eyes riveted
on the scene before me.
· The Marquess had a curious gilded tube on board,
with glass in it, which brought distant objects close to
the eye. I got possession of this, and saw the battle
with perfect accuracy. Auchenbreck had put bis troops
in motion to the right, in order to begin the attack; he l'
had also taken a position on a broken rising ground be
hind the valley. The Glenorchy regiment of 500 mien
still kept their position in advance to the right, and it
was there the battle began. They were attacked by &
regiment of Irish, headed by some brave officers, and as


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
331
they out-numoered ours, the Glenorchy men lost ground
reluctantly, and were beaten from their commanding
station. They were forced to give way, but were in no-
wise broken. There appeared to be no horses in this
part of the battle, but the three regiments of M‘Donalds,
who were all on the right, were flanked on both sides by
strong bodies of horse. The Camerons, Stewarts, and
some other inland clans, formed the centre, and the other
two Irish regiments were behind. Our lowland regiment
was on the left, the rest being all Campbells. I cannot
now distinguish them by the names of their colonels;
but, to give them justice, they appeared all alike eager
and keen on the engagement; and there is not a doubt
but their too great intensity on revenge ruined the fortune
of the day.
The Glenorchy regiment, as I said, was beaten back,
and this being in view of the whole army, there was an
instant call, from rank to rank, for support to brave
young Bein-More. Auchenbreck ordered off the third
line to reinforce the Glenorchy regiment, and then such
a rush took place towards that point, that it appeared like
utter madness and insubordination. But so eager were
the Campbells to make up the first appearance of a breach
in their line, that they left both their centre and left wing
uncovered and weakened. Montrose lost not a moment
on beholding this : he galloped across in front of the
M‘Donalds, and shouted to them to charge. They were
not slack ; pouring down into the valley, in three co-
lumns, they attacked the Campbells with loud shouts.
The latter received them bravely ; their lines bowed and
waved, but did not break; and I could not distinguish
that very many fell on either side. But Montrose now,
at the head of a large body of horse, made a dash off at
the right, with a terrible clang of trumpets and other
noisy sinful instruments, as if he meant to place himself
in the rear of our army.
The pangs that I felt at this moment are unutterable.
When the Campbells made the rush to the right, they
quickly repelled the Irish, and drove them out of my


334
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
river of Glen-Levin, it was roaring like a sea, and cover.
ed with floating snow and ice. It was utterly impassable
by man or beast. The Campbells had no alternative, for
they chose rather to trust the God of the elements than
the swords of their inveterate foes. They plnnged in
like sheep into the washing-pool. Scarcely a man of
them escaped! They were borne by the irresistible tor-
rent into the ocean in a few moments, where we saw
their bodies floating in hundreds as we sailed along.
And moreover, in endeavouring to drag a large body on
board, the rope broke, and they were all drowned like-
wise.
This is a true description of that fatal engagement,
which need not be doubted, for though I write from
memory, the impressions made on my mind that day were
not such as to be ever obliterated. I cannot state the
loss, for I never knew it, nor do I believe the Marquess
ever knew it or enquired after it. As far as I could
judge from a distant view, there was not a man escaped,
save a few hundreds that forced their way to the steep,
and scattered among the rocks on the south and west
sides of Ben-Nevis.
I must now return back to where I left off; nainely
at the commencement of prayers on board of Argyle's
meteor galley The Faith.
Mr Mungo Law, instead of making the prayers short
that morning, as the Marquess had ordered him, made
them as long again as usual, for which he was sharply
reproved afterwards ; but after my lord the Marquess
had kneeled down and joined in the homily, he could
not with any degree of decency leave it.
When he came up, two pages were waiting orders.
They had been sent express from the army. I heard
him saying-_" Tell Sir Duncan not to attack, but keep
his strong position in which I placed him. But I will go
with the orders myself.”
“ No no, my lord, do not mention it now," said I.
“ It is too late. The battle will be won or lost before
you can reach it and give an order."


336
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
by that grievous blow broken for ever. The Faith and
Hope sailed disconsolate down Lochaber. Argyle and
I, and seven others, bore straight to the Clyde, and froni
thence hasted to Edinburgh, where we were the first to
lay the matter before the Committee of Estates, and re-
ceived the nation's thanks for our good behaviour.
[I had great doubts of the Baillie's sincerity in this,
till I found the following register in Sir James Balfour's.
Annals, vol. ii. p. 272-3:
“Wedenesday, 12 Feb. Sessio I.
“This day the Marquese of Argyle came to the
housse and maide a fulle relatione of all hes praceidingis
sence his last going away from this.
“ The housse war fully satisfied with my lord Mar-
quese of Argylis relatione and desyred the pressydent
in their names to rander him hartly thankis for his grit
painis and trauellis takin for the publicke weille and with.
all intreated to continew in so ladable a coursse of doing
for the goode peace of the countrey.”.
The battle was on the 2d; this was on the 12th ; so
that before they sailed round the Mull of Kintyre they
must have lost very little time in examining the loss sus-
tained or the state of that ruined country.
These are the most notable passages in the life of this
extraordinary person ; and it is with regret that I must
draw them to a close. He was a magistrate ; a ruling
elder of the church ; sat in three Scottish parliaments,
and lived to see many wonderful changes and revolu-
tions. He at length triumphed over his old inveterate
foe the Marquess of Huntly, receiving him at the Water
Gate as a state prisoner, and conducting him to that gaol
from which he never again emerged till taken to the
block. But the lively interest that the Baillie took in
this bloody affair, both with the church and state, I am
rather inclined to let drop into oblivion; while, on the
other hand, the manner in which he speaks of the death
of his old friend and benefactor, does honour to his heart
and the steadiness of his principles. I shall copy only
a few sentences here, and no more.]


LIFE OF AN EDINBURGH BAILLIE.
337
“ From the first day that Charles resumed the sceptre
of his fathers, nay from the hour that Argyle placed the
crown on the young monarch's head, the fortunes of my
noble friend began to decline. He soon perceived that
the king was jealous of him, and therefore he parted
from his company, and left him to his fate. He had for
twenty years been at the head of Scottish affairs, both in
church and state ; and much labour and toil did he un-
dergo for the good of his country, but now the summer
of his earthly glory was past, and he was left like a with-
ered oak standing aloof from the forest he had so long
shielded from the blast.
“ When General Dean brought him prisoner to Edin-
burgh, I got liberty to attend him in his confinement, and
not a day passed over my head in which I did not visit
him. I had always regarded him both as a good and a
great man, with some few constitutional failings; but his
character never rose so high as when he was plunged in
the depth of adversity.
“ When he and I were in private, and spoke our sen-
timents freely, he did not think highly of the principles
or capacities of Charles the Second ; for his principles,
both civil and religious, inclined him to a commonwealth,
or a monarchy greatly restricted. It was said the young
king soon discovered something so contracted and selfish
in his character, that he was glad to be rid of his com-
pany; but I knew his character better than the profligate
monarch did, and such a discovery never was made by
me. There was no man truer to his friends or more
generous to his dependants, and from the support of the
Protestant religion he never once swerved. I was twice
examined on his trial, and could have told more than I
did regarding him and Cromwell. One could not say
that his trial was unfair, admitting the principle on which
he was tried to have been relative. But during a long
life I learned to view our state trials of Scotland as a
mere farce ; for what was a man's greatest glory and
honour this year, was very like to bring him to the block
the next. What could be a surer test of this than to


-
-
-
-
-


338
REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE
see the good Marquess of Argyle's grey head set upon
the same pole on which his rival's, the Marquess of Mon-
trose, had so lately stood."
[The other circumstances mentioned by the Baillie
are recorded in every history of that period. But he
prayed with and for his patron night and day during his last
trial ; dined with him on the day of his execution, took
farewell of him at the foot of the scaffold, and running
home, betock him to his bed, from which he did not rise
for a month. He could not believe that the country
would suffer a deed so enormous to be committed as the
sacrificing such a man as Argyle, nor would he credit the
account of his death for many days. From that time
forth he had no more heart for business; and his political
interest in the city being at an end, he retired from soci.
ety and traffic, and pined in secret over the miserable
and degraded state of his country, and the terrors that
seemed once more to hang over the reformed religion.
He could not go to his door without seeing the noblest
head in the realm set up as a beacon of disgrace; the
lips that had so often flowed with the words of truth and
righteousness falling from their hold, the eye of majesty
decaying in the socket, and the dark grey hairs bleaching
in the winds of heaven. This was a sight his wounded
spirit could not brook, and his bodily health and strength
decayed beneath the pressure. But he lived to remove
that honoured head from the gaol where it had so long
stood a beacon of disgrace to a whole country; to carry
it with all funeral honours into the land which it had
ruled, and deposit it in the tomb where the bones of the
noble martyr were reposing. Then returning home, the
worthy Baillie survived only a few days. He followed
his noble and beloved patron into the land of peace and
forgetfulness. His body was carried to Elgin, the ori.
ginal burial-place of his fathers, and by a singular
casualty, his head laid precisely at the Marquess of
Huntly's feet.]


* 342
JULIA M'KENZIE.
lady's youth, it bore some show of reason, and on that
score alone, they would postpone compulsion for three
years, and then, for the sake of thousands who looked up
to him as their earthly father, their protector, and only
hope, it behoved him to part with her and take another;
for on that effort the very existence of the clan and the
name depended.
Three years present a long vista of existence to any
one, and who knows what events may intervene to avert
a dreaded catastrophe. Lord Edirdale accepted the con-
ditions, and the leading cadets of the family returned to
their homes in peace. The third year came, being the
tenth from the chief's marriage, and still there was no
appearance of a family. The lady Julia remained cour-
teous and beautiful as ever, and quite unconscious of
any discontent or combination against her. But alas !
her doom had been resolved on by the whole clan, male
and female, for their dissatisfaction now raged like a hur-
ricane, and every tongue among them denounced her
death or removal. Several of the old dames had com-
bined to take her off by poison, but their agent, as soon
as she saw Lady Julia's lovely face, relented and destroy-
ed the potion. They then tried enchantment, which
also failed; and there was nothing for it but another
deputation, which, on the very day that the stipulated
three years expired, arrived at the castle, with old Car-
noch once more at their head.
· The chief now knew not what to do. He had given
his word to his clan, their part had been fulfilled his
behoved to be so. He had not a word to say. A splen-
did dinner was prepared and spread ; such a dinner as
had never graced the halls of Castle-Garnet. Lady Julia į
took her seat at the head of the table, shining in the
silken tartan of the clan, and dazzling with gold and
jewels. She seemed never before so lovely, so affable,
and so perfectly bewitching, so that when she rose and
left them there was hardly a dry eye in the hall ; nor had !
one of them a word to say,--all sat silent and gazed at
one another.


346
JULIA M-KENZIE
to utter a scream nor even to open her eyes, but descen-
ding like a swan in placid silence, she alighted on the
. middle of the surface of the fleet torrent. Such was its
density and velocity, that iron, lead, or a feather bore all
the same weight there. The lady fell on her back, in a
half sitting posture. She did not dip an inch, but shot
down on the torrent as swift as an arrow out of a bow;
and at the turn of the river round a rocky promontory,
she vanished from their view.
The moment that the lady was tossed from Drochaid.
maide, the four chieftains seized on her husband and
bore him back to the castle in their arms. He was ra.
ving mad :-he only knew that he had lost his lady, by
what means he did not comprehend. At first he cursed
Barvoolin, and swore that he saw his hand touching her;
but the other assuring him that he only did so to pre-
vent the dizzy and distracted leap, and the rest all averr-
ing the same thing, before night they had persuaded him
that the terror of the scene had produced a momentary
madness, and that the Lady Julia in a fit had flung her.
self over.
Men on horseback were despatched on the instant to
the meeting of the tide with the river, where all the
boats were put in requisition ; but in that unparalleled
flood both of tide and stream, the body of Lady Julia
could not be found. This was a second grievous distress
to her lord; but so anxious were the clansmen for his
safety, that they would not suffer him to assist in the
search. He had loved his lady with the deepest-purest
affection of which the heart of man is capable ; for his
pathetic lamentations over her loss often affected the old
devotees of clanship to the heart, and they began to re-
pent them of the atrocious deed they had committed ;
particularly when,--after representing to him that he
lived and acted not only for himself but for thousands be-
side, and that since it had pleased the Almighty, in his
over-ruling, to take from his side in a terrific way the
benign creature who alone stood between them and all
their hopes, it behoved him by all means to take another


348
JULIA M'KENZIE.
character of this patriarchal race, and rather a mean sub.
servient one, that they only saw, heard, felt, and acted
in conformity with their chiefs and superiors, and they
never betrayed their secrets. In the present instance,
perhaps Lady Julia was the only person of the whole
clan who did not know of the dissatisfaction that prevailed,
and the great danger she was in. The menials, of course,
strongly suspected that their lady's death had been effect-
ed by stratagem, taking all things into view, yet they
were so servile, that hearing their lord and his relatives
thought otherwise and spoke otherwise, they did the
same. But there was one little beautiful pestilent girl,
named Ecky MʻKenzie, who was Lady Julia's foster-sister,
and had come from her own country or district with her,
who was loud and bitter against the subordinate chief-
tains, and old Carnoch, as the head and leader of them,
in particular,—asserting boldly that he had murdered
their lady and deceived their lord, because he knew he
was next of kin to the chief, and that he and his family
would succeed him, as the clan would never submit to
Nagarre, which he knew full well. The rest of the me-
nials accused her of uttering falsehoods, and threatened
to expose her ; but they gathered around, and gaped and
stared upon one another at her bold asseverations. “I
know it all,” she would add. “I know all how that an-
gelic creature was hated, combined against, and mur.
dered by your vile servile race, and particularly by that
old serpent, Carnoch, who has all this while acted as
huntsman to a pack of blood-hounds. But vengeance
will overtake him. There will a witness appear at the
castle in a few days who shall convict him to the satis-
faction of the whole world ; and I know, for I have it
from the country beyond the grave, that I shall soon
see him lying a mangled corpse between the castle wall
and the precipice which overhangs the river.”
These asseverations were so unreserved and violent,
that one Angus Seers went direct and told his lord every
thing that Ecky had said, adding, that unless she was
made to hold her tongue, she would bring disgrace on


354
JULIA M‘KENZIE.
nals of any family in Britain. Yes; at that moment
Lady Julia entered, in the very robes in which she had
been precipitated from the bridge. Her face was pale,
and her look to the chieftains severe ; still she was the
Lady Julia in every lineament. A shudder and a smo.
thered expression of horror issued froin the circle. Car.
noch, in one moment, rushed to the casement at the
further end of the apartment; it opened on hinges, and
Ecky had intentionally neglected to bolt it. He pulled
it open, and threw himself from it. Barvoolin followed
his example, but none of the rest having actually im-
brued their hands in their lady's blood, they waited the
issue; but so terror-smitten were they all, that not one
perceived the desperate exit of the two chieftains, save
the apparition itself, which uttered an eldrich scream as
each of them disappearead. These yells astounded the
kinsmen with double amazement, laying all their faculties
asleep in a torpid numbness. But their souls were soon
aroused by new excitations ; for the incidents, as they
came all rushing on one another, were quite beyond
their comprehension. The apparition fixed its eyes, as if
glistening with tears, on one of them only, then spread.
ing forth its arms, and throwing its face towards heaven
as if in agony, it exclaimed, “ No one to welcome me
back to my own home!” The chief assumed the same
posture, but had not power to speak or move, till the appa-
rition, flying to him with the swiftness of lightning, clasped
him in her arms, laid her head upon his bosom, and wept.
“ God of my fathers, it is my Julia, my own Julia, as I
live and breathe," cried he in an ecstacy. It was the
Lady Julia herself.
“Pray, Mr Shepherd, does not this require some ex-
planation ?"
“It does, Madam, which is forthcoming immediately,
in as few sentences as I can make you understand it."
On the side of the river opposite to the castle, and
consequently in another country, according to the idio-
matic phrase constantly used in that land, there lived a
bold native yeoman, called Mungo M'Craw, miller, of


356
JULIA MʻKENZIE.
Clach-Mhuillian on a floody tay. Quintain, oh you great
mastiff dog, you creat lazy puppy of a cucannech, do
you not see tat we shall pe all carried away from te uni.
varse of Cot, unless you ply as never man plied pe-
fore ?"
“ Father, is Keppoch charged ?"
“ Malluchid ! If I do not pe preaking your head for
you. What does te creat bhaist want with te gun just
now?"
“ Because here is a swan coming on us full sail.”
“ Then damh palmahar! run and bring Keppoch. She
is always charged, clean and dry, and let us have a pluff
at te swan, come of te mill what will. Life of my soul !
if she pe not a drowned lady instead of a swan! Mistress
M‘Craw, and you young witch, Diana, where pe your
hearts and your souls now ? Och now tere will pe such
splashing and squalling, and hoo-hooing, tat I shall have
more ado with te living tan te dead, for women's hearts
pe all made of oladh-heighis. There now, I have lost
my grand shot, and shall lose my good mill and all te
gentle's corn, and te poor fears' likewise, Alas! dear
soul, a warmer and a drier couch would have fitted you
creat petter to-day! Come, help me to carry her, you
noisy, thoughtless, noisy cummers, and help me to carry
her in. What! howling and wringing your hands?
See, give me hold of all your four arms, and let her head
hang down, that the drumbly water may run out at her
mouth like a mill-spout.”
“ No, no, Mungo, keep up my head, I am little the
worse. My head has never yet been below the water."
" As I shall pe sworn before te tay of shudgement, it
is te creat and cood lady of Edirdale. Cot pe wid my
dhear and plessed matam, how tid you come here ?"
“Even as you see, Mungo. But put me into your
warm bed, and by and by I shall tell you all; for I have
had a dreadful voyage to your habitation; but it has been
a rapid one. It is not above half a minute since I lost
hold of my husband's arm on the dizzy cradle on the
top of Drochaid-maide.”


JULIA M'KENZIE.
357
With many exclamations and prayers and tears, the
Lady Julia was put into bed, and nursed with all the care
and affection of which the honest and kind hearted miller
and his family were capable. She bound them all to
secrecy until she thought it time to reveal herself; but her
recovery was not so sudden as might have been expect-
ed. An undefinable terror preyed upon her spirits, which
she found it impossible to remove-a terror of that which
was past. It was a feeling of horror that was quite un-
brookable-a worm that gnawed at her heart, and almost
drank up the fountain of existence. It was a painful,
thrilling suspicion that her husband had tossed her over.
She had not the heart nor the capability of mentioning
this to any at the mill, and that made the impression on
her health and spirits; but she resolved to remain there
in quiet concealment till the mystery of her intended
death was satisfactorily cleared up to her.
She then offered Quinten, the young miller, a high
bribe, if he would go privately to the castle, and procure
her a secret conference with her humble cousin and
foster-sister, Ecky M‘Kenzie.
“ (ch, dear heart,” said Mistress M'Craw, “ he needs
no bribe to go privately to Miss Ecky MŠKenzie. He
is oftener there than at the kirk. It would require a
very high bribe to keep him away; and she is so cunning
and handy that neither your ladyship nor any about the
castle have ever discovered them. I shall answer for
that errand being cheerfully and faithfully performed, but
if the boy take one highland penny for his trouble I'll
feed him on black bearmeal brochen for a month.”
Poor Ecky cried bitterly for joy, and was so delighted
that she actually threw her handsome arms around the
great burly miller's neck and kissed him ; but she would
tarry none to court that night, but forced Quinten to re-
turn to Clackmullin with her.
The meeting of the two was affecting and full of the
deepest interest, but I may not dwell on it, but haste to a
conclusion ; for a long explanatory conclusion is like the
fifth act of a play, a wearisome supplement.
2 G 2


358
JULIA M.KENZIE.
At that meeting, Ecky first discovered to her lady the
horrible combination that had existed so long to take
her off, but knowing the chief's stedfast resolution, never
either to injure or part with her, she never told all that
she knew for fear of giving her dear lady uneasiness;
that they never would have accomplished their purpose,
had it not been for the sham pilgrimage to St Bothan's
shrine; and that the two kinsmen seized her in a mo-
ment of confusion, and hurled her over the bridge ; then
all the four seized on their lord, and bore him into the
castle, where they convinced his simple and too.confid-
ing heart that his lady had, of her own accord, taken the
dizzy and distracted leap.
She was now convinced of her husband's innocency,
and that the love he had ever expressed towards her was
sincere; and as she lived but in his affections, all other
earthly concerns appeared to her but as nothing ; and to
have the proofs of their own consciences, the two settled
the time, manner, and mode of her return, which was
all contrived by the affectionate Ecky, and put in prac-
tice according to her arrangement, and the above-narrat-
ed catastrophe was the result.
On going out with torches, the foremost of which was
borne by Ecky M.Kenzie, they found old Carnoch lying
at the bottom of the wall next to the river, with his neck
broken, and his body otherwise grievously mangled; and
Barvoolin very much crushed by his fall. He made a
full confession to Lady Julia, and at her intercession was
pardoned, as being only the organ of a whole clan, but
he proved a lametar to the day of his death. His con-
fession to the lady in private was a curious one, and
shows the devotedness of that original people to their re-
spective clans and all that concerns them; he said, “that
finding after many trials they could make nothing of her
Jord, they contrived that pilgrimage to the shrine of St
Bothan's to intercede with the saint to take pity on their
race; but they had resolved that she should never re-
turn from that devout festival. They had no idea of
rowning until the tremendous flood came, which frus-


JULIA M'KENZIE.
359
trated the other plan. They meant to have taken her
off by poison, and had brought a bottle of poisoned wine
with them, which was to have been presented to each of
the ladies of rank who should sit on high with the lady
Julia, in a small golden chalice, and it appearing imposs-
ible to make exceptions, they had resolved to sacrifice
the whole to bear their lady company.
But the far best part of the story is yet to come.
Whether it was the sleeping for a fortnight on a hard
heather bed, or the subsisting for that time on milk-brose
and butter, or whether the ducking and correspondent
fright, wrought a happy change on Lady Julia, I know
not: but of this I am certain, that within a twelvemonth
from the date of her return to the castle she gave birth
to a comely daughter, and subsequently to two sons;
and the descendants of that affectionate couple occupy a
portion of heir once extensive patrimonial domains to
this day.
END OF THE FIFTH VOL.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED BY W. G. BLACKIE, & Co.
VILLAPIELD.