Part 29

The country was at this time in a state of incandescent madness regarding its nationality, and the public feeling found expression through the medium of parliament. By its order, there was this day burned at the Cross of Edinburgh, by the hangman, a book entitled _Historia Anglo-Scotica_, by James Drake, ‘containing many false and injurious reflections upon the sovereignty and independency of this nation.’ In August 1705, when the passion was even at a greater height, the same fate was awarded by the legislature to a book, entitled _The Superiority and Direct Dominion of the Imperial Crown of England over the Crown and Kingdom of Scotland_; also to a pamphlet, called _The Scots Patriot Unmasked_, both being the production of William Atwood. On the same day that the latter order was given, the parliament decreed the extraordinary sum of £4800 (Scots?) to Mr James Anderson, for a book he had published, _A Historical Essay shewing that the Crown and Kingdom of Scotland is Imperial and Independent_. Nor was this all, for at the same time it was ordered that ‘Mr James Hodges, who hath in his writings served this nation,’ should have a similar reward.[336]

[Sidenote: SEP. 3.]

The Scottish parliament at this time patronised literature to a considerable extent, though a good deal after the manner of the poor gentleman who bequeathed large ideal sums to his friends, and comforted himself with the reflection, that it at least shewed good-will. Alexander Nisbet had prepared a laborious work on heraldry,[337] tracing its rise, and describing all its various figures, besides ‘shewing by whom they are carried amongst us, and for what reasons,’ thus instructing the gentlefolk of this country of their ‘genealogical pennons,’ and affording assistance to ‘curious antiquaries’ in understanding ‘seals, medals, historie, and ancient records.’ But Alexander was unable of his own means to publish [Sidenote: 1703.] so large a work, for which it would be necessary to get italic types, ‘whereof there are very few in this kingdom,’ and which also required a multitude of copper engravings to display ‘the armorial ensigns of this ancient kingdom.’ Accordingly, on his petition, the parliament (September 3, 1703), recommended the Treasury to grant him £248, 6_s._ 8_d._ sterling ‘out of what fund they shall think fit.’[338]

[Sidenote: AUG. 9.]

In 1695, the Scottish parliament forbade the sale of rum, as interfering with the consumpt of ‘strong waters made of malt,’ and because the article itself was ‘rather a drug than a liquor, and highly prejudicial to the health of all who drink it.’ Now, however, Mr William Cochrane of Kilmaronock, John Walkenshaw of Barrowfield, John Forbes of Knaperna, and Robert Douglas, merchant in Leith, designed to set up a sugar-work and ‘stillarie for distilling of rum’ in Leith, believing that such could never be ‘more necessary and beneficial to the country, and for the general use and advantage of the lieges, than in this time of war, when commodities of that nature, how necessary soever, can hardly be got from abroad.’ On their petition, the designed work was endowed by the Privy Council with the privileges of a manufactory.

[Sidenote: SEP. 10.]

The steeple of the Tolbooth of Tain had lately fallen in the night, to the great hazard of the lives of the prisoners, and some considerable damage to the contiguous parish church. On the petition of the magistrates of this poor little burgh, the Privy Council ordained a collection to be made for the reconstruction of the building; and, meanwhile, creditors were enjoined to transport their prisoners to other jails.

Nearly about the same time, voluntary collections were ordained by the Privy Council, for erecting a bridge over the Dee at the Black Ford; for the construction of a harbour at Cromarty, ‘where a great quantity of the victual that comes to the south is loadened;’ and for making a harbour at Pennan, on the estate of William Baird of Auchmedden, in Aberdeenshire, where such a convenience was eminently required for the shelter of vessels, and where ‘there is likewise a millstone quarry belonging to the petitioner [Baird], from which the greatest part of the mills in the kingdom are served by sea.’

[Sidenote: 1703. NOV. 11.]

Amidst the endless instances of misdirected zeal and talent which mark the time, there is a feeling of relief and gratification even in so small and commonplace a matter as an application to the Privy Council, which now occurs, from Mr William Forbes, advocate, for a copyright in a work he had prepared under the name of _A Methodical Treatise of Bills of Exchange_. The case is somewhat remarkable in itself, as an application by an author, such applications being generally from stationers and printers.

[Sidenote: DEC.]

Usually, in our day, the opposing solicitors in a cause do not feel any wrath towards each other. It was different with two agents employed at this time in the Court of Session on different interests, one of them being Patrick Comrie, who acted in the capacity of ‘doer’ for the Laird of Lawers. To him, one day, as he lounged through the Outer House, came up James Leslie, a ‘writer,’ who entered into some conversation with him about Lawers’s business, and so provoked him, that he struck Leslie in the face, in the presence of many witnesses. Leslie appealed to the court, on the strength of an old statute which decreed death to any one guilty of violence in the presence of the Lords, and Comrie was apprehended. There then arose many curious and perplexing questions among the judges as to the various bearings of the case; but all were suddenly solved by Comrie obtaining a remission of his offence from the queen.[339]

In this year was published[340] the first intelligent topographical book regarding Scotland, being ‘_A Description of the Western Isles_, by M. Martin, Gentleman.’ It gives accurate information regarding the physical peculiarities of these islands, and their numberless relics of antiquity, besides many sensible hints as to means for improving the industry of the inhabitants. The author, who seems to have been a native of Skye, writes like a well-educated man for his age, and as one who had seen something of life in “busier scenes than those supplied by his own country. He has also thought proper to give an ample account of many superstitious practices of the Hebrideans, and to devote a chapter to the alleged power of _second-sight_, which was then commonly attributed to special individuals throughout the whole of Celtic Scotland. All this he does in the same sober painstaking manner in which he tells of matters connected with the rural economy of the people, [Sidenote: 1703.] fully shewing that he himself reposed entire faith in the alleged phenomena. In the whole article, indeed, he scarcely introduces a single expression of a dogmatic character, either in the way of defending the belief or ridiculing it, but he very calmly furnishes answers, based on what he considered as facts, to sundry objections which had been taken against it. But for his book, we should have been much in the dark regarding a system which certainly made a great mark on the Highland mind in the seventeenth century, and was altogether as remarkable, perhaps, as the witch superstitions of the Lowlands during the same period.

He tells us—‘The second-sight is a singular faculty of seeing an otherwise invisible object, without any previous means used by the person that sees it, for that end. The vision makes such a lively impression upon the seers, that they neither see nor think of anything else, except the vision, as long as it continues, and then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object which was represented to them.

‘At the sight of a vision, the eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring until the object vanish. This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons happen to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my own observation, and to others who were with me.’

The seers were persons of both sexes and of all ages, ‘generally illiterate, well-meaning people;’ not people who desired to make gain by their supposed faculty, or to attract notice to themselves—not drunkards or fools—but simple country people, who were rather more apt to feel uneasy in the possession of a gift so strange, than to use it for any selfish or unworthy purpose. It really appears to have been generally regarded as an uncomfortable peculiarity; and there were many instances of the seers resorting to prayers and other religious observances in order to get quit of it.

The vision came upon the seer unpremonishedly, and in all imaginable circumstances. If early in the morning, which was not frequent, then the prediction was expected to be accomplished within a few hours; the later in the day, the accomplishment was expected at the greater distance of time. The things seen were often of an indifferent nature, as the arrival of a stranger; often of a character no less important than the death of individuals. If a woman was seen standing at a man’s left hand, it was a presage that she would be his wife, even though one of the parties might then be the mate of another. Sometimes several women would be seen standing in a row beside a man, in which case it was expected [Sidenote: 1703.] that the one nearest would be his first wife, and so on with the rest in their turns.

When the arrival of a stranger was predicted, his dress, stature, complexion, and general appearance would be described, although he might be previously unknown to the seer. If of the seer’s acquaintance, his name would be told, and the humour he was in would be described from the countenance he bore. ‘I have been seen thus myself,’ says Martin, ‘by seers of both sexes at some hundred miles’ distance; some that saw me in this manner, had never seen me personally, and it happened according to their visions, without any previous design of mine to go to those places, my coming there being purely accidental.’

It will be remembered that, when Dr Johnson and Boswell travelled through the Hebrides in 1773, the latter was told an instance of such prediction by the gentleman who was the subject of the story—namely, M‘Quarrie, the Laird of Ulva. ‘He had gone to Edinburgh, and taken a man-servant along with him. An old woman who was in the house said one day: “M‘Quarrie will be at home to-morrow, and will bring two gentlemen with him;” and she said she saw his servant return in red and green. He did come home next day. He had two gentlemen with him, and his servant had a new red and green livery, which M‘Quarrie had bought for him at Edinburgh, upon a sudden thought, not having the least intention when he left home to put his servant in livery; so that the old woman could not have heard any previous mention of it. This, he assured us, was a true story.’[341]

Martin tells a story of the same character, but even more striking in its various features. The seer in this case was Archibald Macdonald, who lived in the isle of Skye about the time of the Revolution. One night before supper, at Knockowe, he told the family he had just then seen the strangest thing he ever saw in his life; to wit, a man with an ugly long cap, always shaking his head; but the strangest thing of all was a little harp he had, with only four strings, and two hart’s horns fixed in the front of it. ‘All that heard this odd vision fell a laughing at Archibald, telling him that he was dreaming, or had not his wits about him, since he pretended to see a thing that had no being, and was not so much as heard of in any part of the world.’ All this had no effect upon Archibald, ‘who told them that they must excuse him if he laughed at them after the accomplishment of the vision.’ Archibald [Sidenote: 1703.] returned to his own house, and within three or four days after, a man exactly answering to the description arrived at Knockowe. He was a poor man, who made himself a buffoon for bread, playing on a harp, which was ornamented with a pair of hart’s horns, and wearing a cap and bells, which he shook in playing. He was previously unknown at Knockowe, and was found to have been at the island of Barray, sixty miles off, at the time of the vision. This story was vouched by Mr Daniel Martin and all his family—relatives, we may presume, of the author of the book now quoted.

Martin relates a story of a predicted visit of a singular kind to the island of Egg; and it is an instance more than usually entitled to notice, as he himself heard of it in the interval between the vision and its fulfilment. A seer in that island told his neighbours that he had frequently seen the appearance of a man in a red coat lined with blue, having on his head a strange kind of blue cap, with a very high cock on the forepart of it. The figure always appeared in the act of making rude advances to a young woman who lived in the hamlet, and he predicted that it would be the fate of this girl to be treated in a dishonourable way by some such stranger. The inhabitants considered the affair so extremely unlikely to be realised, that they treated the seer as a fool. Martin tells that he had the story related to him in Edinburgh, in September 1688, by Norman Macleod of Graban, who had just then come from the isle of Skye, there being present at the time the Laird of Macleod, Mr Alexander Macleod, advocate, and some other persons. About a year and a half after, a few government war-vessels were sent into the Western Islands to reduce some of the people who had been out with Lord Dundee. Major Fergusson, who commanded a large military party on board, had no thought of touching at Egg, which is a very sequestered island, but some natives of that isle, being in Skye, encountered a party of his men, and one of the latter was slain. He consequently steered for Egg, to revenge himself on the natives. Among other outrages, the young woman above alluded to was carried on board the vessel, and disgracefully treated, thus completely verifying the vision.

An instance of the second-sight, which fell under the observation of the clever statesman Viscount Tarbat, is related by Martin as having been reported to him by Lord Tarbat himself. While travelling in Ross-shire, his lordship entered a house, and sat down on an arm-chair. One of his retinue, who possessed the faculty of [Sidenote: 1703.] a seer, spoke to some of the rest, wishing them to persuade his lordship to leave the house, ‘for,’ said he, ‘a great misfortune will attend somebody in it, and that within a few hours.’ This was told to Lord Tarbat, who did not regard it. The seer soon after renewed his entreaty with much earnestness, begging his master to remove out of that unhappy chair; but he was only snubbed as a fool. Lord Tarbat, at his own pleasure, renewed his journey, and had not been gone many hours when a trooper, riding upon ice, fell and broke his thigh, and being brought into that house, was laid in the arm-chair to have his wound dressed. Thus the vision was accomplished.

It was considered a rule in second-sight, that a vision seen by one seer was not necessarily visible to another in his company, unless the first touched his neighbour. There are, nevertheless, anecdotes of visions seen by more than one at a time, without any such ceremony. In one case, two persons, not accustomed to see visions, saw one together, after which, neither ever enjoyed the privilege again. They were two simple country men, travelling along a road about two miles to the north of Snizort church, in Skye. Suddenly they saw what appeared as a body of men coming from the north, as if bringing a corpse to Snizort to be buried. They advanced to the river, thinking to meet the funeral company at the ford, but when they got there, the visionary scene had vanished. On coming home, they told what they had seen to their neighbours. ‘About three weeks after, a corpse was brought along that road from another parish, from which few or none are brought to Snizort, except persons of distinction.’

A vision of a similar nature is described as occurring to one Daniel Stewart, an inhabitant of Hole, in the North Parish of St Mary’s, in the isle of Skye; and it was likewise the man’s only experience of the kind. One day, at noon, he saw five men riding northward; he ran down to the road to meet them; but when he got there, all had vanished. The vision was repeated next day, when he also heard the men speak. It was concluded that the company he saw was that of Sir Donald Macdonald of Sleat, who was then at Armadale, forty miles distant.

The important place which matrimony occupies in social existence, makes it not surprising that the union of individuals in marriage was frequently the alleged subject of second-sight. As already mentioned, when a woman stood at a man’s left hand, she was expected to be his wife. It was also understood that, when a man was seen at a woman’s left hand, he was to be her [Sidenote: 1703.] future husband. ‘Several persons,’ says Martin, ‘living in a certain family, told me that they had frequently seen two men standing at a young gentlewoman’s left hand, who was their master’s daughter. They told the men’s names, and as they were the young lady’s equals, it was not doubted that she would be married to one of them, and perhaps to the other, after the death of the first. Some time after, a third man appeared, and he seemed always to stand nearest to her of the three; but the seers did not know him, though they could describe him exactly. Within some months after, this man, who was last seen, did actually come to the house, and fulfilled the description given of him by those who never saw him but in a vision; and he married the woman shortly after. They live in the isle of Skye; both they and others confirmed the truth of this instance when I saw them.’

The Rev. Daniel Nicolson, minister of the parish of St Mary’s, in Skye, was a widower of forty-four, when a noted seer of his flock, the Archibald Macdonald already spoken of, gave out that he saw a well-dressed lady frequently standing at the minister’s right hand. He described her complexion, stature, and dress particularly, and said he had no doubt such a person would in time become the second Mrs Nicolson. The minister was rather angry at having this story told, and bade his people pay no attention to what ‘that foolish dreamer, Archibald Macdonald,’ had said, ‘for,’ said he, ‘it is twenty to one if ever I marry again.’ Archibald, nevertheless, persisted in his tale. While the matter stood in this position, it was related to Martin.

The minister afterwards attended a synod in Bute—met a Mrs Morison there—fell in love with her, and brought her home to Skye as his wife. It is affirmed that she was instantly and generally recognised as answering to the description of the lady in Archibald’s vision.

About 1652, Captain Alexander Fraser, commonly called the _Tutor of Lovat_, being guardian of his nephew, Lord Lovat, married Sybilla Mackenzie, sister of the Earl of Seaforth, and widow of John Macleod of Macleod. The Tutor, who had fought gallantly in the preceding year for King Charles II. at Worcester, was thought a very lucky man in this match, as the lady had a jointure of three hundred merks _per annum_![342] The marriage, however, is more remarkable on account of its having [Sidenote: 1703.] been _seen_ many years before, during the lifetime of the lady’s first husband. We have the story told with all seriousness, though in very obscure typography, in a letter which Aubrey prints[343] as having been sent to him by a ‘learned friend’ of his in the Highlands, about 1694.

Macleod and his wife, while residing, we are to understand, at their house of Dunvegan in Skye, on returning one day from an excursion or brief visit, went into their nursery to see their infant child. To pursue the narration: ‘On their coming in, the nurse falls a-weeping. They asked the cause, dreading the child was sick, or that the nurse was scarce of milk. The nurse replied the child was well, and she had abundance of milk. Yet she still wept. Being pressed to tell what ailed her, she at last said that Macleod would die, and the lady would shortly be married to another man. Being asked how she knew that event, she told them plainly, that, as they came into the room, she saw a man with a scarlet cloak and white hat betwixt them, giving the lady a kiss over the shoulder; and this was the cause of her weeping; all which,’ pursues the narrator, ‘came to pass. After Macleod’s death [which happened in 1649], the Tutor of Lovat married the lady in the same dress in which the woman saw him.’

The Bishop of Caithness, a short while before the Revolution, had five daughters, one of whom spoke grudgingly of the burden of the family housekeeping lying wholly upon her. A man-servant in the house, who had the second-sight, told her that ere long she would be relieved from her task, as he saw a tall gentleman in black walking on the bishop’s right hand, and whom she was to marry. Before a quarter of a year had elapsed, the prediction was realised; and all the man’s vaticinations regarding the marriage-feast and company also proved true.

A curious class of cases, of importance for any theory on the subject, was that in which a visionary figure or spectre intervened for the production of the phenomena. A spirit in great vogue in the Highlands in old times—as, indeed, in the Lowlands also—was known by the name of _Browny_. From the accounts we have of him, it seems as if he were in a great measure identical with the drudging goblin of Milton, whose shadowy flail by night would thrash the corn

‘That ten day-labourers could not end.’

Among our Highlanders, he presented himself as a tall man. [Sidenote: 1703.] The servants of Sir Norman Macleod of Bernera were one night assembled in the hall of the castle in that remote island, while their master was absent on business, without any intimation having been given of the time of his probable return. One of the party, who had the second-sight, saw Browny[344] come in several times and make a show of carrying an old woman from the fireside to the door; at last, he seemed to take her by neck and heels, and bundle her out of the house; at which the seer laughed so heartily, that his companions thought him mad. He told them they must remove, for the hall would be required that night for other company. They knew, of course, that he spoke in consequence of having had a vision; but they took it upon themselves to express a doubt that it could be so speedily accomplished. In so dark a night, and the approach to the island being so dangerous on account of the rocks, it was most unlikely that their master would arrive. In less than an hour, a man came in to warn them to get the hall ready for their master, who had just landed. Martin relates this story from Sir Norman Macleod’s own report.