Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character by Edward Bannerman Ramsay

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"Oh, so I had, mem; but I just fan' a doo in the _redd_ o' my plate." He
had discovered a pigeon lurking amongst the bones and refuse of his
plate, and could not resist finishing it.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] Distinguished examples of these are to be found in the Old
Greyfriars' Church, Edinburgh, and in the Cathedral of Glasgow; to say
nothing of the beautiful specimens in St. John's Episcopal Church,
Edinburgh.

[20] "This was a square enclosure in the Greyfriars' Churchyard, guarded
on one side by a veteran angel without a nose, and having only one wing,
who had the merit of having maintained his post for a century, while his
comrade cherub, who had stood sentinel on the corresponding pedestal,
lay a broken trunk, among the hemlock, burdock, and nettles, which grew
in gigantic luxuriance around the walls of the mausoleum."

[21] A Shetland pony.

[22] The Lord's Supper.

[23] Bullock.

[24] Perhaps.

[25] Carefully selected.

[26] I recollect an old Scottish gentleman, who shared this horror,
asking very gravely, "Were not swine forbidden under the law, and cursed
under the gospel?"

[27] Lie in a grovelling attitude. See Jamieson.

[28] So pronounced in Aberdeen.

[29] Implying that there was a James Third of England, Eighth of
Scotland.

[30] Old Scotch for "drink hard".

[31] A friend learned in Scottish history suggests an ingenious remark,
that this might mean more than a mere _full drinker_. To drink "fair,"
used to imply that the person drank in the same proportion as the
company; to drink more would be unmannerly; to drink less might imply
some unfair motive. Either interpretation shows the importance attached
to drinking and all that concerned it.

[32] In Burt's _Letters from the North of Scotland_, written about 1730,
similar scenes are related as occurring in Culloden House: as the
company were disabled by drink, two servants in waiting took up the
invalids with short poles in their chairs as they sat (if not fallen
down), and carried them off to their beds.

[33] Lord Cockburn's _Memorials of his Time_, p. 37, _et seq_.

[34] May we never be cast down by adversity, or unduly elevated by
prosperity.

[35] A toast at parting or breaking up of the party.

[36] Loving

[37] Plenty

[38] Toast for agricultural dinners

[39] Ghastly.

[40] The scene is described and place mentioned in Dr. Strang's account
of Glasgow Clubs, p. 104, 2d edit.

[41] Swept.

CHAPTER THE FOURTH.

ON THE OLD SCOTTISH DOMESTIC SERVANT.

I come now to a subject on which a great change has taken place in this
country during my own experience--viz. those peculiarities of
intercourse which some years back marked the connection between masters
and servants. In many Scottish houses a great familiarity prevailed
between members of the family and the domestics. For this many reasons
might have been assigned. Indeed, when we consider the simple modes of
life, which discarded the ideas of ceremony or etiquette; the retired
and uniform style of living, which afforded few opportunities for any
change in the domestic arrangements; and when we add to these a free,
unrestrained, unformal, and natural style of intercommunion, which seems
rather a national characteristic, we need not be surprised to find in
quiet Scottish families a sort of intercourse with old domestics which
can hardly be looked for at a time when habits are so changed, and where
much of the quiet eccentricity belonging to us as a national
characteristic is almost necessarily softened down or driven out. Many
circumstances conspired to promote familiarity with old domestics, which
are now entirely changed. We take the case of a domestic coming early
into service, and passing year after year in the same family. The
servant grows up into old age and confirmed habits when the laird is
becoming a man, a husband, father of a family. The domestic cannot
forget the days when his master was a child, riding on his back,
applying to him for help in difficulties about his fishing, his rabbits,
his pony, his going to school. All the family know how attached he is;
nobody likes to speak harshly to him. He is a privileged man. The
faithful old servant of thirty, forty, or fifty years, if with a
tendency to be jealous, cross, and interfering, becomes a great trouble.
Still the relative position was the result of good feelings. If the
familiarity sometimes became a nuisance, it was a wholesome nuisance,
and relic of a simpler time gone by. But the case of the old servant,
whether agreeable or troublesome, was often so fixed and established in
the households of past days, that there was scarce a possibility of
getting away from it. The well-known story of the answer of one of these
domestic tyrants to the irritated master, who was making an effort to
free himself from the thraldom, shows the idea entertained, by _one_ of
the parties at least, of the permanency of the tenure. I am assured by a
friend that the true edition of the story was this:--An old Mr. Erskine
of Dun had one of these retainers, under whose language and unreasonable
assumption he had long groaned. He had almost determined to bear it no
longer, when, walking out with his man, on crossing a field, the master
exclaimed, "There's a hare." Andrew looked at the place, and coolly
replied, "What a big lee, it's a cauff." The master, quite angry now,
plainly told the old domestic that they _must_ part. But the tried
servant of forty years, not dreaming of the possibility of _his_
dismissal, innocently asked, "Ay, sir; whare ye gaun? I'm sure ye're aye
best at hame;" supposing that, if there were to be any disruption, it
must be the master who would change the place. An example of a similar
fixedness of tenure in an old servant was afforded in an anecdote
related of an old coachman long in the service of a noble lady, and who
gave all the trouble and annoyance which he conceived were the
privileges of his position in the family. At last the lady fairly gave
him notice to quit, and told him he must go. The only satisfaction she
got was the quiet answer, "Na, na, my lady; I druve ye to your marriage,
and I shall stay to drive ye to your burial." Indeed, we have heard of a
still stronger assertion of his official position by one who met an
order to quit his master's service by the cool reply, "Na, na; I'm no
gangin'. If ye dinna ken whan ye've a gude servant; I ken whan I've a
gude place."

It is but fair, however, to give an anecdote in which the master and the
servant's position was _reversed_, in regard to a wish for change:--An
old servant of a relation of my own with an ungovernable temper, became
at last so weary of his master's irascibility, that he declared he must
leave, and gave as his reason the fits of anger which came on, and
produced such great annoyance that he could not stand it any longer. His
master, unwilling to lose him, tried to coax him by reminding him that
the anger was soon off. "Ay," replied the other very shrewdly, "but it's
nae suner aff than it's on again." I remember well an old servant of the
old school, who had been fifty years domesticated in a family. Indeed I
well remember the celebration of the half-century service completed.
There were rich scenes with Sandy and his mistress. Let me recall you
both to memory. Let me think of you, the kind, generous, warm-hearted
mistress; a gentlewoman by descent and by feeling; a true friend, a
sincere Christian. And let me think, too, of you, Sandy, an honest,
faithful, and attached member of the family. For you were in that house
rather as a humble friend than a servant. But out of this fifty years of
attached service there sprang a sort of domestic relation and freedom of
intercourse which would surprise people in these days. And yet Sandy
knew his place. Like Corporal Trim, who, although so familiar and
admitted to so much familiarity with my Uncle Toby, never failed in the
respectful address--never forgot to say "your honour." At a dinner party
Sandy was very active about changing his mistress's plate, and whipped
it off when he saw that she had got a piece of rich pate upon it. His
mistress, not liking such rapid movements, and at the same time knowing
that remonstrance was in vain, exclaimed, "Hout, Sandy, I'm no dune,"
and dabbed her fork into the "pattee" as it disappeared, to rescue a
morsel. I remember her praise of English mutton was a great annoyance to
the Scottish prejudices of Sandy. One day she was telling me of a
triumph Sandy had upon that subject. The smell of the joint roasting had
become very offensive through the house. The lady called out to Sandy to
have the doors closed, and added, "That must be some horrid Scotch
mutton you have got." To Sandy's delight, this was a leg of _English_
mutton his mistress had expressly chosen; and, as she significantly told
me, "Sandy never let that down upon me." On Deeside there existed, in my
recollection, besides the Saunders Paul I have alluded to, a number of
extraordinary acute and humorous Scottish characters amongst the lower
classes. The native gentry enjoyed their humour, and hence arose a
familiarity of intercourse which called forth many amusing scenes and
quaint rejoinders. A celebrated character of this description bore the
soubriquet of "Boaty," of whom I have already spoken. He had acted as
Charon of the Dee at Banchory, and passed the boat over the river before
there was a bridge. Boaty had many curious sayings recorded of him. When
speaking of the gentry around, he characterised them according to their
occupations and activity of habits--thus:--"As to Mr. Russell of
Blackha', he just works himsell like a paid labourer; Mr. Duncan's a'
the day fish, fish; but Sir Robert's a perfect gentleman--he does
naething, naething." Boaty was a first-rate salmon-fisher himself, and
was much sought after by amateurs who came to Banchory for the sake of
the sport afforded by the beautiful Dee. He was, perhaps, a little
spoiled, and presumed upon the indulgence and familiarity shown to him
in the way of his craft--as, for example, he was in attendance with his
boat on a sportsman who was both skilful and successful, for he caught
salmon after salmon. Between each fish catching he solaced himself with
a good pull from a flask, which he returned to his pocket, however,
without offering to let Boaty have any participation in the refreshment.
Boaty, partly a little professionally jealous, perhaps, at the success,
and partly indignant at receiving less than his usual attention on such
occasions, and seeing no prospect of amendment, deliberately pulled the
boat to shore, shouldered the oars, rods, landing-nets, and all the
fishing apparatus which he had provided, and set off homewards. His
companion, far from considering his day's work to be over, and keen for
more sport, was amazed, and peremptorily ordered him to come back. But
all the answer made by the offended Boaty was, "Na na; them 'at drink by
themsells may just fish by themsells."

The charge these old domestics used to take of the interests of the
family, and the cool way in which they took upon them to protect those
interests, sometimes led to very provoking, and sometimes to very
ludicrous, exhibitions of importance. A friend told me of a dinner scene
illustrative of this sort of interference which had happened at Airth in
the last generation. Mrs. Murray, of Abercairney, had been amongst the
guests, and at dinner one of the family noticed that she was looking for
the proper spoon to help herself with salt. The old servant, Thomas, was
appealed to, that the want might be supplied. He did not notice the
appeal. It was repeated in a more peremptory manner, "Thomas, Mrs.
Murray has not a salt-spoon!" to which he replied most emphatically,
"Last time Mrs. Murray dined here we _lost_ a salt-spoon." An old
servant who took a similar charge of everything that went on in the
family, having observed that his master thought that he had drunk wine
with every lady at table, but had overlooked one, jogged his memory with
the question, "What ails ye at her wi' the green gown?"

In my own family I know a case of a very long service, and where, no
doubt, there was much interest and attachment; but it was a case where
the temper had not softened under the influence of years, but had rather
assumed that form of disposition which we denominate _crusty_. My
grand-uncle, Sir A. Ramsay, died in 1806, and left a domestic who had
been in his service since he was ten years of age; and being at the time
of his master's death past fifty or well on to sixty, he must have been
more than forty years a servant in the family. From the retired life my
grand-uncle had been leading, Jamie Layal had much of his own way, and,
like many a domestic so situated, he did not like to be contradicted,
and, in fact, could not bear to be found fault with. My uncle, who had
succeeded to a part of my grand-uncle's property, succeeded also to
Jamie Layal, and, from respect to his late master's memory and Jamie's
own services, he took him into his house, intending him to act as house
servant. However, this did not answer, and he was soon kept on, more
with the form than the reality of any active duty, and took any light
work that was going on about the house. In this capacity it was his
daily task to feed a flock of turkeys which were growing up to maturity.
On one occasion, my aunt having followed him in his work, and having
observed such a waste of food that the ground was actually covered with
grain which they could not eat, and which would soon be destroyed and
lost, naturally remonstrated, and suggested a more reasonable and
provident supply. But all the answer she got from the offended Jamie was
a bitter rejoinder, "Weel, then, neist time they sall get _nane ava!_"
On another occasion a family from a distance had called whilst my uncle
and aunt were out of the house. Jamie came into the parlour to deliver
the cards, or to announce that they had called. My aunt, somewhat vexed
at not having been in the way, inquired what message Mr. and Mrs. Innes
had left, as she had expected one. "No; no message." She returned to the
charge, and asked again if they had not told him _anything_ he was to
repeat. Still, "No; no message." "But did they say nothing? Are you sure
they said nothing?" Jamie, sadly put out and offended at being thus
interrogated, at last burst forth, "They neither said ba nor bum," and
indignantly left the room, banging the door after him. A characteristic
anecdote of one of these old domestics I have from a friend who was
acquainted with the parties concerned. The old man was standing at the
sideboard and attending to the demands of a pretty large dinner party;
the calls made for various wants from the company became so numerous and
frequent that the attendant got quite bewildered, and lost his patience
and temper; at length he gave vent to his indignation in a remonstrance
addressed to the whole company, "Cry a' thegither, that's the way to
be served."

I have two characteristic and dry Scottish answers, traditional in the
Lothian family, supplied to me by the late excellent and highly-gifted
Marquis. A Marquis of Lothian of a former generation observed in his
walk two workmen very busy with a ladder to reach a bell, on which they
next kept up a furious ringing. He asked what was the object of making
such a din, to which the answer was, "Oh, juist, my lord to ca' the
workmen together!" "Why, how many are there?" asked his lordship. "Ou,
juist Sandy and me," was the quiet rejoinder. The same Lord Lothian,
looking about the garden, directed his gardener's attention to a
particular plum-tree, charging him to be careful of the produce of that
tree, and send the _whole_ of it in marked, as it was of a very
particular kind. "Ou," said the gardener, "I'll dae that, my lord;
there's juist twa o' them."

These dry answers of Newbattle servants remind us of a similar state of
communication in a Yester domestic. Lord Tweeddale was very fond of
dogs, and on leaving Yester for London he instructed his head keeper, a
quaint bodie, to give him a periodical report of the kennel, and
particulars of his favourite dogs. Among the latter was an _especial_
one, of the true Skye breed, called "Pickle," from which soubriquet we
may form a tolerable estimate of his qualities.

It happened one day, in or about the year 1827, that poor Pickle,
during the absence of his master, was taken unwell; and the watchful
guardian immediately warned the Marquis of the sad fact, and of the
progress of the disease, which lasted three days--for which he sent the
three following laconic despatches:--

_Yester, May 1st_, 18--.
MY LORD,
Pickle's no weel.
Your Lordship's humble servant, etc.

_Yester, May Id_, 18--.
MY LORD,
Pickle will no do.
I am your Lordship's, etc.

_Tester, May 3d_, 18--.
MY LORD,
Pickle's dead.
I am your Lordship's, etc.

I have heard of an old Forfarshire lady who, knowing the habits of her
old and spoilt servant, when she wished a note to be taken without loss
of time, held it open and read it over to him, saying, "There, noo,
Andrew, ye ken a' that's in't; noo dinna stop to open it, but just send
it aff." Of another servant, when sorely tried by an unaccustomed bustle
and hurry, a very amusing anecdote has been recorded. His mistress, a
woman of high rank, who had been living in much quiet and retirement for
some time, was called upon to entertain a large party at dinner. She
consulted with Nichol, her faithful servant, and all the arrangements
were made for the great event. As the company were arriving, the lady
saw Nichol running about in great agitation, and in his shirt sleeves.
She remonstrated, and said that as the guests were coming in he must
put on his coat, "Indeed, my lady," was his excited reply, "indeed,
there's sae muckle rinnin' here and rinnin' there, that I'm just
distrackit. I hae cuist'n my coat and waistcoat, and faith I dinna ken
how lang I can thole[42] my breeks." There is often a ready wit in this
class of character, marked by their replies. I have the following
communicated from an ear-witness:--"Weel, Peggy," said a man to an old
family servant, "I wonder ye're aye single yet!" "Me marry," said she,
indignantly; "I wouldna gie my single life for a' the double anes I
ever saw!"

An old woman was exhorting a servant once about her ways. "You serve the
deevil," said she. "Me!" said the girl; "na, na, I dinna serve the
deevil; I serve ae single lady."

A baby was out with the nurse, who walked it up and down the garden.
"Is't a laddie or a lassie?" said the gardener. "A laddie," said the
maid. "Weel," says he, "I'm glad o' that, for there's ower mony women in
the world." "Hech, man," said Jess, "div ye no ken there's aye maist
sawn o' the best crap?"

The answers of servants used curiously to illustrate habits and manners
of the time,--as the economical modes of her mistress's life were well
touched by the lass who thus described her ways and domestic habits with
her household: "She's vicious upo' the wark; but eh, she's vary
mysterious o' the victualling."

A country habit of making the gathering of the congregation in the
churchyard previous to and after divine service an occasion for gossip
and business, which I remember well, is thoroughly described in the
following:--A lady, on hiring a servant girl in the country, told her,
as a great indulgence, that she should have the liberty of attending the
church every Sunday, but that she would be expected to return home
always immediately on the conclusion of service. The lady, however,
rather unexpectedly found a positive objection raised against this
apparently reasonable arrangement. "Then I canna engage wi' ye, mem; for
'deed I wadna gie the crack i' the kirk-yard for a' the sermon."

There is another story which shows that a greater importance might be
attached to the crack i' the kirk-yard than was done even by the servant
lass mentioned above. A rather rough subject, residing in Galloway, used
to attend church regularly, as it appeared, for the _sake_ of the crack;
for on being taken to task for his absenting himself, he remarked,
"There's nae need to gang to the kirk noo, for everybody gets a
newspaper."

The changes that many of us have lived to witness in this kind of
intercourse between families and old servants is a part of a still
greater change--the change in that modification of the feudal system,
the attachment of clans. This, also, from transfers of property and
extinction of old families in the Highlands, as well as from more
general causes, is passing away; and it includes also changes in the
intercourse between landed proprietors and cottagers, and abolition of
harvest-homes, and such meetings. People are now more independent of
each other, and service has become a pecuniary and not a sentimental
question. The extreme contrast of that old-fashioned Scottish
intercourse of families with their servants and dependants, of which I
have given some amusing examples, is found in the modern manufactory
system. There the service is a mere question of personal interest. One
of our first practical engineers, and one of the first engine-makers in
England, stated that he employed and paid handsomely on an average 1200
workmen; but that they held so little feeling for him as their master,
that not above half-a-dozen of the number would notice him when passing
him, either in the works or out of work hours. Contrast this advanced
state of dependants' indifference with the familiarity of domestic
intercourse we have been describing!

It has been suggested by my esteemed friend, Dr. W. Lindsay Alexander,
that Scottish anecdotes deal too exclusively with the shrewd, quaint,
and pawky _humour_ of our countrymen, and have not sufficiently
illustrated the deep pathos and strong loving-kindness of the "kindly
Scot,"--qualities which, however little appreciated across the Border,
abound in Scottish poetry and Scottish life. For example, to take the
case before us of these old retainers, although snappy and disagreeable
to the last degree in their replies, and often most provoking in their
ways, they were yet deeply and sincerely attached to the family where
they had so long been domesticated; and the servant who would reply to
her mistress's order to mend the fire by the short answer, "The fire's
weel eneuch," would at the same time evince much interest in all that
might assist her in sustaining the credit of her domestic economy; as,
for example, whispering in her ear at dinner, "Press the jeelies; they
winna keep;" and had the hour of real trial and of difficulty come to
the family, would have gone to the death for them, and shared their
greatest privations. Dr. Alexander gives a very interesting example of
kindness and affectionate attachment in an old Scottish domestic of his
own family, whose quaint and odd familiarity was charming. I give it in
his own words:--"When I was a child there was an old servant at
Pinkieburn, where my early days were spent, who had been all her life, I
may say, in the house--for she came to it a child, and lived, without
ever leaving it, till she died in it, seventy-five years of age. Her
feeling to her old master, who was just two years younger than herself,
was a curious compound of the deference of a servant and the familiarity
and affection of a sister. She had known him as a boy, lad, man, and old
man, and she seemed to have a sort of notion that without her he must be
a very helpless being indeed. 'I aye keepit the hoose for him, whether
he was hame or awa',' was a frequent utterance of hers; and she never
seemed to think the intrusion even of his own nieces, who latterly lived
with him, at all legitimate. When on her deathbed, he hobbled to her
room with difficulty, having just got over a severe attack of gout, to
bid her farewell. I chanced to be present, but was too young to remember
what passed, except one thing, which probably was rather recalled to me
afterwards than properly recollected by me. It was her last request.
'Laird,' said she (for so she always called him, though his lairdship
was of the smallest), 'will ye tell them to bury me whaur I'll lie
across at your feet?' I have always thought this characteristic of the
old Scotch servant, and as such I send it to you."

And here I would introduce another story which struck me very forcibly
as illustrating the union of the qualities referred to by Dr. Alexander.
In the following narrative, how deep and tender a feeling is expressed
in a brief dry sentence! I give Mr. Scott's language[43]:--"My brother
and I were, during our High School vacation, some forty years ago, very
much indebted to the kindness of a clever young carpenter employed in
the machinery workshop of New Lanark Mills, near to which we were
residing during our six weeks' holidays." It was he--Samuel Shaw, our
dear companion--who first taught us to saw, and to plane, and to turn
too; and who made us the bows and arrows in which we so much delighted.
The vacation over, and our hearts very sore, but bound to Samuel Shaw
for ever, our mother sought to place some pecuniary recompense in his
hand at parting, for all the great kindness he had shown her boys.
Samuel looked in her face, and gently moving her hand aside, with an
affectionate look cast upon us, who were by, exclaimed, in a tone which
had sorrow in it, "Noo, Mrs. Scott, _ye hae spoilt a'_." After such an
appeal, it may be supposed no recompense, in silver or in gold, remained
with Samuel Shaw.

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