Part 85

Kelso. Dine with the farmers' club--all gentlemen, talking of high matters--each of them keeps a hunter from thirty to fifty pounds value, and attends the fox-huntings in the country--go out with Mr. Ker, one of the club, and a friend of Mr. Ainslie's, to lie--Mr. Ker a most gentlemanly, clever, handsome fellow, a widower with some fine children--his mind and manner astonishingly like my dear old friend Robert Muir, in Kilmarnock--everything in Mr. Ker's most elegant--he offers to accompany me in my English tour. Dine with Sir Alexander Don--a pretty clever fellow, but far from being a match for his divine lady.--A very wet day * * *--Sleep at Stodrig again; and set out for Melrose--visit Dryburgh, a fine old ruined abbey--still bad weather--cross Leader, and come up Tweed to Melrose--dine there, and visit that far-famed, glorious ruin--come to Selkirk, up Ettrick; the whole country hereabout, both on Tweed and Ettrick, remarkably stony.

_Monday._--Come to Inverleithing, a famous shaw, and in the vicinity of the palace of Traquair, where having dined, and drank some Galloway-whey, I hero remain till to-morrow--saw Elibanks and Elibraes, on the other side of the Tweed.

_Tuesday._--Drank tea yesternight at Pirn, with Mr. Horseburgh.--Breakfasted to-day with Mr. Ballantyne of Hollowlee--Proposal for a four-horse team to consist of Mr. Scott of Wauchope, Fittieland: Logan of Logan, Fittiefurr: Ballantyne of Hollowlee, Forewynd: Horsburgh of Horsburgh.--Dine at a country inn, kept by a miller, in Earlston, the birth-place and residence of the celebrated Thomas a Rhymer--saw the ruins of his castle--come to Berrywell.

_Wednesday._--Dine at Dunse with the farmers' club-company--impossible to do them justice--Rev. Mr. Smith a famous punster, and Mr. Meikle a celebrated mechanic, and inventor of the threshing-mills.

_Thursday_, breakfast at Berrywell, and walk into Dunse to see a famous knife made by a cutler there, and to be presented to an Italian prince.--A pleasant ride with my friend Mr. Robert Ainslie, and his sister, to Mr. Thomson's, a man who has newly commenced farmer, and has married a Miss Patty Grieve, formerly a flame of Mr. Robert Ainslie's.--Company--Miss Jacky Grieve, an amiable sister of Mrs. Thomson's, and Mr. Hood, an honest, worthy, facetious farmer, in the neighbourhood.

_Friday._--Ride to Berwick--An idle town, rudely picturesque.--Meet Lord Errol in walking round the walls.--His lordship's flattering notice of me.--Dine with Mr. Clunzie, merchant--nothing particular in company or conversation--Come up a bold shore, and over a wild country to Eyemouth--sup and sleep at Mr. Grieve's.

_Saturday._--Spend the day at Mr. Grieve's--made a royal arch mason of St. Abb's Lodge,[297]--Mr. William Grieve, the oldest brother, a joyous, warm-hearted, jolly, clever fellow--takes a hearty glass, and sings a good song.--Mr. Robert, his brother, and partner in trade, a good fellow, but says little. Take a sail after dinner. Fishing of all kinds pays tithes at Eyemouth.

_Sunday._--A Mr. Robinson, brewer at Ednam, sets out with us to Dunbar.

The Miss Grieves very good girls.--My bardship's heart got a brush from Miss Betsey.

Mr. William Grieve's attachment to the family-circle, so fond, that when he is out, which by the bye is often the case, he cannot go to bed till he see if all his sisters are sleeping well ---- Pass the famous Abbey of Coldingham, and Pease-bridge.--Call at Mr. Sheriff's where Mr. A. and I dine.--Mr. S. talkative and conceited. I talk of love to Nancy the whole evening, while her brother escorts home some companions like himself.--Sir James Hall of Dunglass, having heard of my being in the neighbourhood, comes to Mr. Sheriff's to breakfast--takes me to see his fine scenery on the stream of Dunglass--Dunglass the most romantic, sweet place I over saw--Sir James and his lady a pleasant happy couple.--He points out a walk for which he has an uncommon respect, as it was made by an aunt of his, to whom he owes much.

Miss ---- will accompany me to Dunbar, by way of making a parade of me as a sweetheart of hers, among her relations. She mounts an old cart-horse, as huge and as lean as a house; a rusty old side-saddle without girth, or stirrup, but fastened on with an old pillion-girth--herself as fine as hands could make her, in cream-coloured riding clothes, hat and feather, &c.--I, ashamed of my situation, ride like the devil, and almost shake her to pieces on old Jolly--get rid of her by refusing to call at her uncle's with her.

Past through the most glorious corn-country I ever saw, till I reach Dunbar, a neat little town.--Dine with Provost Fall, an eminent merchant, and most respectable character, but undescribable, as he exhibits no marked traits. Mrs. Fall, a genius in painting; fully more clever in the fine arts and sciences than my friend Lady Wauchope, without her consummate assurance of her own abilities.--Call with Mr. Robinson (who, by the bye, I find to be a worthy, much respected man, very modest; warm, social heart, which with less good sense than his would be perhaps with the children of prim precision and pride, rather inimical to that respect which is man's due from man) with him I call on Miss Clarke, a maiden in the Scotch phrase, "_Guid enough, but no brent new_:" a clever woman, with tolerable pretensions to remark and wit; while time had blown the blushing bud of bashful modesty into the flower of easy confidence. She wanted to see what sort of _raree show_ an author was; and to let him know, that though Dunbar was but a little town, yet it was not destitute of people of parts.

Breakfast next morning at Skateraw, at Mr. Lee's, a farmer of great note.--Mr. Lee, an excellent, hospitable, social fellow, rather oldish; warm-hearted and chatty--a most judicious, sensible farmer. Mr. Lee detains me till next morning.--Company at dinner.--My Rev. acquaintance Dr. Bowmaker, a reverend, rattling old fellow.--Two sea lieutenants; a cousin of the landlord's, a fellow whose looks are of that kind which deceived me in a gentleman at Kelso, and has often deceived me: a goodly handsome figure and face, which incline one to give them credit for parts which they have not. Mr. Clarke, a much cleverer fellow, but whose looks a little cloudy, and his appearance rather ungainly, with an every-day observer may prejudice the opinion against him.--Dr. Brown, a medical young gentleman from Dunbar, a fellow whose face and manners are open and engaging.--Leave Skateraw for Dunse next day, along with collector ----, a lad of slender abilities and bashfully diffident to an extreme.

Found Miss Ainslie, the amiable, the sensible, the good-humoured, the sweet Miss Ainslie, all alone at Berrywell.--Heavenly powers, who know the weakness of human hearts, support mine! What happiness must I see only to remind me that I cannot enjoy it!

Lammer-muir Hills, from East Lothian to Dunse, very wild.--Dine with the farmer's club at Kelso. Sir John Hume and Mr. Lumsden there, but nothing worth remembrance when the following circumstance is considered--I walk into Dunse before dinner, and out to Berrywell in the evening with Miss Ainslie--how well-bred, how frank, how good she is! Charming Rachael! may thy bosom never be wrung by the evils of this life of sorrows, or by the villany of this world's sons!

_Thursday._--Mr. Ker and I set out to dine at Mr. Hood's on our way to England.

I am taken extremely ill with strong feverish symptoms, and take a servant of Mr. Hood's to watch me all night--embittering remorse scares my fancy at the gloomy forebodings of death.--I am determined to live for the future in such a manner as not to be scared at the approach of death--I am sure I could meet him with indifference, but for "The something beyond the grave."--Mr. Hood agrees to accompany us to England if we will wait till Sunday.

_Friday._--I go with Mr. Hood to see a roup of an unfortunate farmer's stock--rigid economy, and decent industry, do you preserve me from being the principal _dramatis persona_ in such a scene of horror.

Meet my good old friend Mr. Ainslie, who calls on Mr. Hood in the evening to take farewell of my bardship. This day I feel myself warm with sentiments of gratitude to the Great Preserver of men, who has kindly restored me to health and strength once more.

A pleasant walk with my young friend Douglas Ainslie, a sweet, modest, clever young fellow.

_Sunday_, 27_th May._--Cross Tweed, and traverse the moors through a wild country till I reach Alnwick--Alnwick Castle a seat of the Duke of Northumberland, furnished in a most princely manner.--A Mr. Wilkin, agent of His Grace's, shows us the house and policies. Mr. Wilkin, a discreet, sensible, ingenious man.

_Monday._--Come, still through by-ways, to Warkworth, where we dine.--Hermitage and old castle. Warkworth situated very picturesque, with Coquet Island, a small rocky spot, the seat of an old monastery, facing it a little in the sea; and the small but romantic river Coquet, running through it.--Sleep at Morpeth, a pleasant enough little town, and on next day to Newcastle.--Meet with a very agreeable, sensible fellow, a Mr. Chattox, who shows us a great many civilities, and who dines and sups with us.

_Wednesday._--Left Newcastle early in the morning, and rode over a fine country to Hexham to breakfast--from Hexham to Wardrue, the celebrated Spa, where we slept.

_Thursday_--Reach Longtown to dine, and part there with my good friends Messrs. Hood and Ker--A hiring day in Longtown--I am uncommonly happy to see so many young folks enjoying life.--I come to Carlisle.--(Meet a strange enough romantic adventure by the way, in falling in with a girl and her married sister--the girl, after some overtures of gallantry on my side, sees me a little cut with the bottle, and offers to take me in for a Gretna-Green affair.--I, not being such a gull, as she imagines, make an appointment with her, by way of _vive la bagatelle_, to hold a conference on it when we reach town.--I meet her in town and give her a brush of caressing, and a bottle of cider; but finding herself _un peu trompe_ in her man she sheers off.) Next day I meet my good friend, Mr. Mitchell, and walk with him round the town and its environs, and through his printing-works, &c.--four or five hundred people employed, many of them women and children.--Dine with Mr. Mitchell, and leave Carlisle.--Come by the coast to Annan.--Overtaken on the way by a curious old fish of a shoemaker, and miner, from Cumberland mines.

[_Here the manuscript abruptly terminates._]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 294: The author of that fine song, "The Maid that tends the Goats."]

[Footnote 295: "During the discourse Burns produced a neat impromptu, conveying an elegant compliment to Miss Ainslie. Dr. B. had selected a text of Scripture that contained a heavy denunciation against obstinate sinners. In the course of the sermon Burns observed the young lady turning over the leaves of her Bible, with much earnestness, in search of the text. He took out a slip of paper, and with a pencil wrote the following lines on it, which he immediately presented to her.

"Fair maid, you need not take the hint, Nor idle texts pursue:-- 'Twas _guilty sinners_ that he meant,-- Not _angels_ such as you."

Cromek.]

[Footnote 296: "This extraordinary woman then moved in a very humble walk of life:--the wife of a common working gardener. She is still living, and, if I am rightly informed, her time is principally occupied in her attentions to a little day-school, which not being sufficient for her subsistence, she is obliged to solicit the charily of her benevolent neighbours. 'Ah, who would love the lyre!'"--CROMEK.]

[Footnote 297: The entry made on this occasion in the Lodge-books of St Abb's is honorable to

"The brethren of the mystic level."

"_Eyemouth_, 19_th May_, 1787.

"At a general encampment held this day, the following brethren were made royal arch masons, viz. Robert Burns, from the Lodge of St. James's, Tarbolton, Ayrshire, and Robert Ainslie, from the Lodge of St. Luke's, Edinburgh by James Carmichael, Wm. Grieve, Daniel Dow, John Clay, Robert Grieve, &c. &c. Robert Ainslie paid one guinea admission dues; but on account of R. Burns's remarkable poetical genius, the encampment unanimously agreed to admit him gratis, and considered themselves honoured by having a man of such shining abilities for one of their companions."

Extracted from the Minute Book of the Lodge by THOMAS BOWBILL]

* * * * *

THE HIGHLAND TOUR.

25_th August_, 1787.

I leave Edinburgh for a northern tour, in company with my good friend Mr. Nicol, whose originality of humour promises me much entertainment.--Linlithgow--a fertile improved country--West Lothian. The more elegance and luxury among the farmers, I always observe in equal proportion, the rudeness and stupidity of the peasantry. This remark I have made all over the Lothians, Merse, Roxburgh, &c. For this, among other reasons, I think that a man of romantic taste, a "Man of Feeling," will be better pleased with the poverty, but intelligent minds of the peasantry in Ayrshire (peasantry they are all below the justice of peace) than the opulence of a club of Merse farmers, when at the same time, he considers the vandalism of their plough-folks, &c. I carry this idea so far, that an unenclosed, half improven country is to me actually more agreeable, and gives me more pleasure as a prospect, than a country cultivated like a garden.--Soil about Linlithgow light and thin.--The town carries the appearance of rude, decayed grandeur--charmingly rural, retired situation. The old royal palace a tolerably fine, but melancholy ruin--sweetly situated on a small elevation, by the brink of a loch. Shown the room where the beautiful, injured Mary Queen of Scots was born--a pretty good old Gothic church. The infamous stool of repentance standing, in the old Romish way, on a lofty situation.

What a poor pimping business is a Presbyterian place of worship; dirty, narrow, and squalid; stuck in a corner of old popish grandeur such as Linlithgow, and much more, Melrose! Ceremony and show, if judiciously thrown in, absolutely necessary for the bulk of mankind, both in religious and civil matters.--Dine.--Go to my friend Smith's at Avon printfield--find nobody but Mrs. Miller, an agreeable, sensible, modest, good body; as useful, but not so ornamental as Fielding's Miss Western--not rigidly polite _a la Francais_, but easy, hospitable, and housewifely.

An old lady from Paisley, a Mrs. Lawson, whom I promised to call for in Paisley--like old lady W----, and still more like Mrs. C----, her conversation is pregnant with strong sense and just remark, but like them, a certain air of self-importance and a _duresse_ in the eye, seem to indicate, as the Ayrshire wife observed of her cow, that "she had a mind o' her ain."

Pleasant view of Dunfermline and the rest of the fertile coast of Fife, as we go down to that dirty, ugly place, Borrowstones--see a horse-race and call on a friend of Mr. Nicol's, a Bailie Cowan, of whom I know too little to attempt his portrait--Come through the rich carse of Falkirk to pass the night. Falkirk nothing remarkable except the tomb of Sir John the Graham, over which, in the succession of time, four stones have been placed.--Camelon, the ancient metropolis of the Picts, now a small village in the neighbourhood of Falkirk.--Cross the grand canal to Carron.--Come past Larbert and admire a fine monument of cast-iron erected by Mr. Bruce, the African traveller, to his wife.

Pass Dunipace, a place laid out with fine taste--a charming amphitheatre bounded by Denny village, and pleasant seats down the way to Dunnipace.--The Carron running down the bosom of the whole makes it one of the most charming little prospects I have seen.

Dine at Auchinbowie--Mr. Monro an excellent, worthy old man--Miss Monro an amiable, sensible, sweet young woman, much resembling Mrs. Grierson. Come to Bannockburn--Shown the old house where James III. finished so tragically his unfortunate life. The field of Bannockburn--the hole where glorious Bruce set his standard. Here no Scot can pass uninterested.--I fancy to myself that I see my gallant, heroic countrymen coming o'er the hill and down upon the plunderers of their country, the murderers of their fathers; noble revenge, and just hate, glowing in every vein, striding more and more eagerly as they approach the oppressive, insulting, blood-thirsty foe! I see them meet in gloriously triumphant congratulation on the victorious field, exulting in their heroic royal leader, and rescued liberty and independence! Come to Stirling.--_Monday_ go to Harvieston. Go to see Caudron linn, and Rumbling brig, and Diel's mill. Return in the evening. Supper--Messrs. Doig, the schoolmaster; Bell; and Captain Forrester of the castle--Doig a queerish figure, and something of a pedant--Bell a joyous fellow, who sings a good song.--Forrester a merry, swearing kind of man, with a dash of the sodger.

_Tuesday Morning._--Breakfast with Captain Forrester--Ochel Hills--Devon River--Forth and Tieth--Allan River--Strathallan, a fine country, but little improved--Cross Earn to Crieff--Dine and go to Arbruchil--cold reception at Arbruchil--a most romantically pleasant ride up Earn, by Auchtertyre and Comrie to Arbruchil--Sup at Crieff.

_Wednesday Morning._--Leave Crieff--Glen Amond--Amond river--Ossian's grave--Loch Fruoch--Glenquaich--Landlord and landlady remarkable characters--Taymouth described in rhyme--Meet the Hon. Charles Townshend.

_Thursday._--Come down Tay to Dunkeld--Glenlyon House--Lyon River--Druid's Temple--three circles of stones--the outer-most sunk--the second has thirteen stones remaining--the innermost has eight--two large detached ones like a gate, to the south-east--Say prayers in it--Pass Taybridge--Aberfeldy--described in rhyme--Castle Menzies--Inver--Dr. Stewart--sup.

_Friday._--Walk with Mrs. Stewart and Beard to Birnam top--fine prospect down Tay--Craigieburn hills--Hermitage on the Branwater, with a picture of Ossian--Breakfast with Dr. Stewart--Neil Gow[298] plays--a short, stout-built, honest Highland figure, with his grayish hair shed on his honest social brow--an interesting face, marking strong sense, kind openheartedness, mixed with unmistrusting simplicity--visit his house--Marget Gow.

Ride up Tummel River to Blair--Fascally a beautiful romantic nest--wild grandeur of the pass of Gilliecrankie--visit the gallant Lord Dundee's stone.

Blair--Sup with the Duchess--easy and happy from the manners of the family--confirmed in my good opinion of my friend Walker.

_Saturday._--Visit the scenes round Blair--fine, but spoiled with bad taste--Tilt and Gairie rivers--Falls on the Tilt--Heather seat--Ride in company with Sir William Murray and Mr. Walker, to Loch Tummel--meanderings of the Rannach, which runs through quondam Struan Robertson's estate from Loch Rannach to Loch Tummel--Dine at Blair--Company--General Murray--Captain Murray, an honest tar--Sir William Murray, an honest, worthy man, but tormented with the hypochondria--Mrs. Graham, _belle et aimable_--Miss Catchcart--Mrs. Murray, a painter--Mrs. King--Duchess and fine family, the Marquis, Lords James, Edward, and Robert--Ladies Charlotte, Emilia, and children dance--Sup--Mr. Graham of Fintray.

Come up the Garrie--Falls of Bruar--Daldecairoch--Dalwhinnie--Dine--Snow on the hills 17 feet deep--No corn from Loch-Gairie to Dalwhinnie--Cross the Spey, and come down the stream to Pitnin--Straths rich--_les environs_ picturesque--Craigow hill--Ruthven of Badenoch--Barracks--wild and magnificent--Rothemurche on the other side, and Glenmore--Grant of Rothemurche's poetry--told me by the Duke of Gordon--Strathspey, rich and romantic--Breakfast at Aviemore, a wild spot--dine at Sir James Grant's--Lady Grant, a sweet, pleasant body--come through mist and darkness to Dulsie, to lie.

_Tuesday._--Findhorn river--rocky banks--come on to Castle Cawdor, where Macbeth murdered King Duncan--saw the bed in which King Duncan was stabbed--dine at Kilravock--Mrs. Rose, sen., a true chieftain's wife--Fort George--Inverness.

_Wednesday._--Loch Ness--Braes of Ness--General's hut--Falls of Fyers--Urquhart Castle and Strath.

_Thursday._--Come over Culloden Muir--reflections on the field of battle--breakfast at Kilravock--old Mrs. Rose, sterling sense, warm heart, strong passions, and honest pride, all in an uncommon degree--Mrs. Rose, jun., a little milder than the mother--this perhaps owing to her being younger--Mr. Grant, minister at Calder, resembles Mr. Scott at Inverleithing--Mrs. Rose and Mrs. Grant accompany us to Kildrummie--two young ladies--Miss Rose, who sung two Gaelic songs, beautiful and lovely--Miss Sophia Brodie, most agreeable and amiable--both of them gentle, mild; the sweetest creatures on earth, and happiness be with them!--Dine at Nairn--fall in with a pleasant enough gentleman, Dr. Stewart, who had been long abroad with his father in the forty-five; and Mr. Falconer, a spare, irascible, warm-hearted Norland, and a nonjuror--Brodie-house to lie.

_Friday_--Forres--famous stone at Forres--Mr. Brodie tells me that the muir where Shakspeare lays Macbeth's witch-meeting is still haunted--that the country folks won't pass it by night.

* * * * *

Venerable ruins of Elgin Abbey--A grander effect at first glance than Melrose, but not near so beautiful--Cross Spey to Fochabers--fine palace, worthy of the generous proprietor--Dine--company, Duke and Duchess, Ladies Charlotte and Magdeline, Col. Abercrombie, and Lady, Mr. Gordon and Mr.----, a clergyman, a venerable, aged figure--the Duke makes me happier than ever great man did--noble, princely; yet mild, condescending, and affable; gay and kind--the Duchess witty and sensible--God bless them!

Come to Cullen to lie--hitherto the country is sadly poor and unimproven.

Come to Aberdeen--meet with Mr. Chalmers, printer, a facetious fellow--Mr. Ross a fine fellow, like Professor Tytler,--Mr. Marshal one of the _poetae minores_--Mr. Sheriffs, author of "Jamie and Bess," a little decrepid body with some abilities--Bishop Skinner, a nonjuror, son of the author of "Tullochgorum," a man whose mild, venerable manner is the most marked of any in so young a man--Professor Gordon, a good-natured, jolly-looking professor--Aberdeen, a lazy town--near Stonhive, the coast a good deal romantic--meet my relations--Robert Burns, writer, in Stonhive, one of those who love fun, a gill, and a punning joke, and have not a bad heart--his wife a sweet hospitable body, without any affectation of what is called town-breeding.

_Tuesday._--Breakfast with Mr. Burns--lie at Lawrence Kirk--Album library--Mrs. ---- a jolly, frank, sensible, love-inspiring widow--Howe of the Mearns, a rich, cultivated, but still unenclosed country.

_Wednesday._--Cross North Esk river and a rich country to Craigow.

* * * * *

Go to Montrose, that finely-situated handsome town--breakfast at Muthie, and sail along that wild rocky coast, and see the famous caverns, particularly the Gariepot--land and dine at Arbroath--stately ruins of Arbroath Abbey--come to Dundee through a fertile country--Dundee a low-lying, but pleasant town--old Steeple--Tayfrith--Broughty Castle, a finely situated ruin, jutting into the Tay.

_Friday._--Breakfast with the Miss Scotts--Miss Bess Scott like Mrs. Greenfield--my bardship almost in love with her--come through the rich harvests and fine hedge-rows of the Carse of Gowrie, along the romantic margin of the Grampian hills, to Perth--fine, fruitful, hilly, woody country round Perth.