Part 5
_Rob Roy, the Celebrated Highland Freebooter, or Memoirs of the Osbaldistone Family_, and the _History of Paul Jones, the Pirate_, may be mentioned as typical examples of the Scottish chapbook literature which dealt with _Notorious Characters, Highwaymen, and Burglars_. _Rob Roy_ is nothing more than a fictitious account of the Highland cateran written up from Scott’s novel. We meet the creations of the Author of _Waverley_—Die Vernon, Bailie Nicol Jarvie, Dougal Craitur, Rasleigh, Andrew Fairservice, and all the others—but they are mere skeletons, not the living beings that move in the pages of Scott. The _Life of Paul Jones_ would not be wanting in readers. It presents in small compass the life-story of one who for a considerable time “kept the coasts of the United Kingdom in a constant state of alarm,” and disputed Britannia’s right to rule the waves.
(_c_) RELIGIOUS AND MORAL.—This is a section in which Scottish chapbook literature was largely supplemented by English productions. Sermons by outstanding martyrs and divines, such as James Renwick and Ebenezer Erskine, were in great demand, but the Scot was not averse from nurturing his Presbyterian soul on the pulpit orations of clergymen furth of the realm. The English Nonconformist always commanded a wide public. Of notable sermons may be mentioned, _Man’s Great Concernment_, and _Christ’s Glorious Appearance to God! or the End of Time; The Grones of Believers under their Burdens_, and _God’s Little Remnant Keeping their Garments Clean in an Evil Day; The Plant of Renown_, and _A Wedding Ring fit for the Finger; A Choice Drop of Honey from the Rock Christ_, and _Sins and Sorrows Spread before God_. A sermon that passed through many editions was _The Stone rejected by the Builders, exalted as the Head Stone of the Corner_. Preached at Perth, at the opening of the Synod of Perth and Stirling, on October 10, 1732, it gave rise, its author tells us, “to three days’ warm debate” in that reverend Synod. In the other Courts of the Church it was taken up and as warmly debated, and it led eventually to the secession of its author[38] and his associate friends from the Church of Scotland. Other religious books were many and varied. There was _Divine Songs for the Use of Children_, by Isaac Watts, with its faulty rhymes and homely phrases; and there was also—one can hardly conceive it possible in the land of Jenny Geddes and Jacob Primmer—_A Prayer Book for Families and Private Persons upon various subjects and occasions_. A Scottish sheriff, famous more for his erratic judgments than his law, recently stated that so far as Scotland was concerned the word “Liturgy” was a nickname. Probably this particular directory of devotion deserved such an epithet, and Carlyle may have seen it ere he wrote about “worshipping by machinery.” The compiler has discharged his duty in such manner that—a prefatory note explains—“the Prayers are so arranged that when any one is too long to be used without inconvenience, it may be shortened by leaving out some of the paragraphs; and this may be done without injury to the connection.” If history speaks truthfully, the extensive devotional exercises of the pulpit did not lend themselves to such a laudable arrangement. An early chapbook writer, whose productions were of a religious character, was William Mitchell, better known as “The Tinclarian Doctor.” Many of his booklets were originally printed by John Reid, Bell’s Wynd, Edinburgh, husband of the piratical “Lucky Reid,” against whom Allan Ramsay complained to the Town Council. Mitchell, says George Mac Gregor, “was an odd being who sought by his works to spread ‘light’ through Scotland. He was a lamplighter in Edinburgh for twelve years, but losing this situation, he got, as he says himself, ‘an inward call from the Spirit to give light to the ministers.’ His works may be classed among the chapbooks of Scotland, for, though he sold them himself, and did not allow them to be retailed by the chapmen, they are of the same description.”[39] Incidents in Holy Writ frequently formed subjects for chapbooks, and these were almost invariably illustrated. _The New Pictorial Bible_, which comprised notices of the most important events in Scripture from “the creation of light” to “the last day” foreshadowed in “Revelation,” was a series of forty-six illustrations. _The History of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob_, _The History of Joseph and His Brethren_, _The History of Moses_, _Jonah’s Mission to the Ninevites_, and _The Life, Journeyings, and Death of the Apostle Paul_, were some of the subjects. _The Life of Paul_ and _Jonah’s Mission_, which, in the chapbooks I have examined, were added merely to eke out space, do not seem to have lent themselves to illustration, but the other subjects were profusely embellished with woodcuts. The higher critic draws none of his inspiration from these books. So far as the artist is concerned, it _was_ a serpent that tempted Eve, the sun and the moon _did_ stand still, and it _was_ a fish that swallowed Jonah.[40] One of the most curious, and certainly one of the most repellant of these Biblical chapbooks, is that entitled, _The Life and Death of Judas Iscariot, or the Lost and Undone Son of Perdition_. It is possible to feel a kindly interest in the mortal who played a necessary part in a disagreeable business even though one may have never read a line of Marie Corelli, but the Judas of these pages is not calculated to inspire esteem. He was a villain of the deepest dye—a man who, to his other crimes, added those of murdering his father and marrying his mother. Indeed, one rises from a perusal of this booklet with the conviction that the historic transaction for thirty pieces of silver was not the greatest of Iscariot’s sins. Two other popular chapbooks were _The Pilgrim’s Progress_, told in a series of twenty-one realistic pictures, and _Evan’s Sketch of all Religions_, an abridgment of a larger work which gives particulars of forty-two different sects, including “Atheists,” “Jumpers,” and “Hutchinsonians.” Religious poetry was not unrepresented in the chapman’s wallet, and the _Grave_ by Blair, which ran through numerous editions, may be cited as a typical example. The religious chapbook occasionally took a form which has been perpetuated and developed in the later tracts issued by Missionary Societies and similar bodies. This was the life-story of some precocious youth with an early genius for Christianity. Typical examples are found in _An Account of the Last Words of Christian Kerr, who died at Edinburgh on the 4th of February, 1702, in the 11th year of her age_, and in _A Brief Memoir of Urcilla Gebbie, who died at Galston on the 28th of August, aged 15 years_.
The term “Moral” embraces a number of secular chapbooks. _The Wonderful Advantages of Drunkenness_ deserves to be remembered for its “Comparisons of Drunkenness.” It gives the following comparisons and explanations:—
“As drunk as an Owl—as drunk as a Sow—as drunk as a Beggar—as drunk as the Devil—as drunk as a lord. The explanation of which is as follows: A man is as drunk as an Owl when he cannot see. He is as drunk as a Sow when he tumbles in the dirt. He is as drunk as a Beggar when he is very impudent. He is as drunk as the Devil when he is inclined to mischief; and as drunk as a lord when he is everything that is bad.”
One cannot fail to be impressed with the distinct temperance note which is sounded in Scottish chapbook literature. It is true that there are verses in praise of “Scottish Whiskie,” and also that there is the equivocal song entitled the “Effects of Whiskey”; but these notwithstanding, there are many chapbooks which are directed against the use of intoxicants. The most notable is undoubtedly _Scotland’s Skaith; or, the Sad Effects of Drunkenness, exemplified in the History of Will and Jean_. This poem, from the pen of Hector Macneill,[41] had an almost unprecedented run of popularity, although it is doubtful if more than one verse is known to-day, and many who quote it would probably be at a loss to give the author’s name—
“Of a’ the ills poor Caledonia E’er yet preed, or e’er will taste, Brew’d in hell’s black pandemonia, Whisky’s ill will skaith her maist!”
Temperance teaching is inculcated in _A Night frae Hame_, and, in a lesser degree, in _Rab and Ringan_. The subject is also dealt with in the _Oration on Teetotalization_, and in the _Dialogue between John and Thomas_ on sundry questions. The vigorous verses entitled a _Protest against Whisky_, might have been written by an uncompromising Rechabite. Chapbooks of this nature could not fail to exert some influence upon the people who read them, and although, as unspeakable Scots, we may never be able to get over our thirst for the barley bree, it is gratifying to know that—even in our darkest hour—we endeavoured to free ourselves from one at least of our original and selected sins.
Allan Ramsay’s _Collection of Scotch Proverbs_ should not be overlooked in this section. First published in 1736, this volume of “sententious saws of antecedent centuries,” as William Motherwell would call it, was considerably abridged, and frequently produced as a penny chapbook. It professed to contain “all the wise sayings and observations of the old people of Scotland,” and as it circulated at a time when the average Scot punctuated his conversation with proverbial expressions, it doubtless sold as readily as anything in the pedlar’s pack.
(_d_) MANUALS OF INSTRUCTION.—This is a section which cannot be said to be distinctly Scottish, There was _The Housewife’s Cookery Book_, which provided recipes for many things from the roasting of beef to the fermenting of wines; and there was _The Housekeeper_, which gave practical instruction in domestic economy. The bashful swain who found it difficult to woo in words on the 14th of February, found refuge in _The Valentine Writer_; while _The Art of Courtship_ or _The Accomplished Courtier_ or the _New Academy of Compliments_, assisted him towards the same end all the year round.[42] There were text-books on the making of money and on personal etiquette; and treatises on divers subjects from the killing of vermin to the art of swimming.
(_e_) ALMANACS.—These were hardy annuals, and were always in great demand. Their number is legion. Only one or two can be noticed, and these in a very general way. In Kelly’s _Collection of Scottish Proverbs_, published at London in 1721, there is a reference to an early almanac in the maxim, “Buchanan’s _Almanac_, lang foul and lang fair.” The _Aberdeen Almanac_ enjoyed a wide popularity, and readers of Burns will remember that the poet, writing to his friend, Gavin Hamilton, during the Edinburgh period of his life, said he was “in a fair way of becoming as eminent as Thomas à Kempis or John Bunyan,” and that he might expect henceforth to see his “birthday inserted among the wonderful events in the _Poor Robin’s_ and _Aberdeen Almanacs_.”
“The _Aberdeen Almanac_ (or _Prognostication_, as it was commonly called),” writes Dr. William Wallace, “was among the first of the kind issued in Scotland. It was founded in 1623 by Edward Raban, Aberdeen’s first printer, enjoyed a long life, and acquired an almost proverbial celebrity. It had an immense circulation, accounted for by the fact that Aberdeen had for long a monopoly (in Scotland) of the sale of almanacs.”[43]
When this monopoly was broken down, other almanacs were rapidly put in circulation. _Poor Robin’s_, which existed for nearly two centuries—from 1664 to 1823—also enjoyed considerable popularity north of Tweed. A typical example of these publications, but of later date, is to be found in _Orr’s Scottish Almanac_, which still circulates widely and preserves all the outstanding features of the almanac of a by-gone day. Published by the firm of Messrs. Francis Orr & Sons, Glasgow, who issued many chapbooks during the first half of the nineteenth century, this annual has changed but slightly—if at all—in its appearance. Features have been forced upon it, and things of which it once took note have passed out of everyday life, but, when allowances of these kinds have been made, it is still—in its paper and general get-up—the chapbook almanac of long ago. Any one searching in the mass of cheap literature of these days for a lineal descendant of the chapbook family, could hardly find a nearer representative in the direct line than _Orr’s Scottish Almanac_.
III.
ROMANTIC.
Scotland’s contribution to this section of our chapbook literature is remarkable for its poverty. Few of the romantic chapbooks were of native growth. Apart from certain of Dougal Graham’s productions and _Mansie Wauch_, which have been considered under the heading “Humorous,” the most notable romances of Scottish origin were those by the Ettrick Shepherd.[44] _Duncan Campbell and his dog Oscar_, and _The Long Pack; or, The Robbers Discovered_, are two of Hogg’s tales which were in much demand as chapbooks. They were printed by the thousand, and editions came from almost every press in the country. Although in many cases they were published anonymously, the authorship was occasionally acknowledged, and these tales did much to increase the popularity of the Ettrick Shepherd with the Scottish people. His _Brownie of Bodsbeck_, appearing shortly after _Old Mortality_, was sometimes compared by the _literati_ of Edinburgh with that work, to the disadvantage of the former, but his shorter tales, such as those mentioned, circulating widely among that class of people whom Messrs. Henley and Henderson would call “the uncritical,” were read and enjoyed for themselves alone. At many a fireside the touching tale of Duncan Campbell and his faithful dog has moved readers and hearers to tears. So familiar did it become in time that matrons all over the country were able to tell the story to their children without the book, and garnished occasionally with little touches of added pathos that detracted nothing from the genius of Hogg. The popularity accorded to _Duncan Campbell_ was equalled by that meted out to _The Long Pack_. The concealment of a robber in a pedlar’s pack was a thing that concerned the everyday life of the people, and many a later chapman who had the good fortune to possess a large stock of goods would be looked upon with suspicious eyes until he opened his bundle and proved that there was no robber where no robber should be. The people of those days, like their successors of our time, enjoyed a spice of sensation, and doubtless gloated over the “moving pack” from which, when the fatal shot was fired, “blood gushed out upon the floor like a torrent, and a hideous roar, followed by the groans of death, issued from the pack.” Hogg was a master of the gruesome, and in this sketch he maintains the _rôle_ to the very end. The body “lay open for inspection for a fortnight,” and, even after it was buried, the neighbours “confidently reported that his grave was opened and his corpse taken away!” Hogg has fallen upon evil days, and to many his romances are practically non-existent. The copious tears of the up-to-date “Kailyairder” blind the eyes of his readers, who, in their endeavour to master the “pidgin” Scots that flows from his pen, forget that Scottish life was lived generations before London publishers found a Klondyke in the joys and sorrows of every Scottish village. But to those who care to read them, the Ettrick Shepherd’s tales are still accessible in the two volumes of his collected romances.[45]
Christopher North[46] was laid under tribute to the extent of _Blind Allan_, which was extracted from the now forgotten _Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life_. In addition to these, there were a few, such as _Allan Barclay_, and _The Broken Heart: a Tale of the Rebellion of 1745_; _The Ghost of my Uncle_, and _John Hetherington’s Dream_; _The Murder Hole_, and _The Strange Adventures of Tam Merrilees_, by innominate writers, but the great bulk of romance was of alien manufacture. Many of the fairy tales which still delight and terrify young readers were in constant circulation. _Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves_, _Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp_, and _Sinbad the Sailor_; _Beauty and the Beast_, _Whittington and his Cat_, and _Jack the Giant Killer_; _Gulliver’s Travels_, _Robinson Crusoe_, and _Baron Munchausen_; _Hero and Leander_, _The Siege of Troy_, and _The King and the Cobbler_, may be cited as representative types of the romantic literature of the pedlar’s wallet. But, beyond the fact that they were extremely popular with readers north of Tweed, these are in no sense Scottish.
IV.
SUPERSTITIOUS.
Unlike the Romantic, the Superstitious chapbook flourished vigorously in Scotland. Some one has said that the average Scot spoke to and of God as though He had been a next-door neighbour. This familiarity was not confined to the Divinity. A very material Devil held Scotland in fear and trembling, and, aided by numberless servants, kept the powers—both civil and ecclesiastical—in active employment. Many chapbooks went to the elucidation of “Satan’s Invisible World,” of which, one of 24 pages, published by C. Randall at Stirling in 1807, may be regarded as a typical specimen. It is entitled:—
“_Satan’s Invisible World Discover’d_: or, the History of Witches and Warlocks; containing The Wonderful Relation of Major Weir and His Sister; The Witches of Calder, Pittenweem, Borrowstounness, Bargarran and Culross; and a Remarkable Proclamation, which was heard at the Cross of Edinburgh at Twelve o’clock at night, in the Reign of King James the IV. of Scotland.”
The above may be said to be the ordinary chapbook version—and there were many more or less varied editions—of George Sinclair’s credulous work, a duodecimo, which was printed at Edinburgh by John Reid in 1685, and the full title of which is as follows:—
“_Satan’s Invisible World Discovered_; or A Choice Collection of Modern relations, proving evidently against the Sadducees and Atheists of this present Age that there are Devils, Spirits, Witches and Apparitions, from Authentick Records, Attestations of Famous Witnesses and undoubted Verity. To all which is added, That Marvellous History of Major Weir and His Sister. With two Relations of Apparitions at Edinburgh. By George Sinclair,[47] late Professor of Philosophy in the Colledge of Glasgow.”
This is not the place to refer at any length to that terrible condition of matters which led to so many innocents being sacrificed to the demands of a deluded people. The literature of witchcraft and devilry affords amusing reading in these days, but it is almost impossible to gauge the seriousness with which it must have been read by folks who found it difficult to distinguish an old woman from a witch. The stories are ludicrously absurd to a modern reader: they were doubtless very real to the simple Scots of a by-gone day. One is inclined for once to oppose Sydney Smith in his exclamation, “Thank God, I was born so late,” and wish that he could have met some of these children of the devil in the flesh. How exciting it would be, for example, if one could join Major Weir[48] in his fiery chariot at Edinburgh, and ride out with him as far as Dalkeith; or how comforting it would be if one could venture out with Luggy, the Zetland fisherman and wizard, knowing that he could cast out a line and, from the depths of the ocean, bring up “fish well boiled and roasted.” The chapbook says his companions “would make a merry meal thereof, not questioning who was cook,” and one would be prepared to be similarly silent if one could meet him on these terms. The marks of Peter’s finger and thumb, and the finding of the piece of money, lose something of the miraculous alongside Luggy’s wonderful feat. If the “chapman billies” of Burns’s day vended books of this kind, and were at all communicative as to the nature of their wares, the wonder is that “Tam o’ Shanter” did not witness something more infernal than “warlocks and witches in a dance” during that immortal ride from Ayr to the Shanter Farm.
Witchcraft formed a common subject for chapbook treatment. Among others there were _The Life and Transactions with the Trial and Burning of Maggie Lang, the Cardonald Witch_, who was executed at Paisley in 1697; _The History of Witches, Ghosts, and Highland Seers_; _Witchcraft Detected and Prevented, or the School of Black Art Newly Opened_; _Witchcraft Proven, Arraign’d and Condemned_, etc., by a Lover of the Truth; and _The Life and Transactions with the Trial and Burning of Maggie Osborne, the Ayrshire Witch_.
In the _Elegy in Memory of Sir Robert Grierson of Lag_, we are introduced to a Devil who is as remorseless as the creation of Milton, and who is in keeping with the superstition of the time. If there is a material Devil, there is also a material Hell, and Lag is there without even the privilege of Judas, who, according to a kindly legend, gets out to cool himself for one day in each year. The _Elegy_ is 24 pages of what is probably as ribald verse as ever was put forward in connection with religion. It is not lacking in point, and one or two impressive lines save it from being altogether commonplace. There is something striking in the idea that Satan cannot weep. The author says:—
“Could such a furious fiend as I Shed tears, my cheeks would never dry; But I could mourn both night and day, ’Cause Lag from earth is ta’en away.”
It is interesting to learn who have served the Devil. Beginning with Cain, he claims quite a host of notabilities—Saul, Doeg, Ahab, of early days; and Clavers, Middleton, Fletcher, King Charles, of Covenant times, are all
“Among the princes of my pit.”
None of these, however, not even
“My dear cousin, Provost Mill,”