Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character by Edward Bannerman Ramsay

E >> Edward Bannerman Ramsay >> Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34

We have now to consider stories where words and expressions, which are
peculiarly Scotch, impart the humour and the point. Sometimes they are
altogether incapable of being rendered in other language. As, for
example, a parishioner in an Ayrshire village, meeting his pastor, who
had just returned after a considerable absence on account of ill
health, congratulated him on his convalescence, and added, anticipatory
of the pleasure he would have in hearing him again, "I'm unco yuckie to
hear a blaud o' your gab." This is an untranslatable form of saying how
glad he should be to hear his minister's voice again speaking to him the
words of salvation and of peace from the pulpit.

The two following are good examples of that Scottish style of expression
which has its own character. They are kindly sent by Sir Archibald
Dunbar. The first illustrates Scottish acute discernment. A certain
titled lady, well known around her country town for her long-continued
and extensive charities, which are not withheld from those who least
deserve them, had a few years since, by the unexpected death of her
brother and of his only son, become possessor of a fine estate. The news
soon spread in the neighbourhood, and a group of old women were
overheard in the streets of Elgin discussing the fact. One of them said,
"Ay, she may prosper, for she has baith the prayers of the good and
of the bad."

The second anecdote is a delightful illustration of Mrs. Hamilton's
_Cottagers of Glenburnie_, and of the old-fashioned Scottish pride in
the _midden_. About twenty years ago, under the apprehension of cholera,
committees of the most influential inhabitants of the county of Moray
were formed to enforce a more complete cleansing of its towns and
villages, and to induce the cottagers to remove their dunghills or
dung-pits from too close a proximity to their doors or windows. One
determined woman, on the outskirts of the town of Forres, no doubt with
her future potato crop in view, met the M.P. who headed one of these
committees, thus, "Noo, Major, ye may tak our lives, but ye'll no tak
our middens."

The truth is, many of the peculiarities which marked Scottish society
departed with the disuse of the Scottish dialect in the upper ranks. I
recollect a familiar example of this, which I may well term a
Reminiscence. At a party assembled in a county house, the Earl of Elgin
(grandfather of the present Earl) came up to the tea-table, where Mrs.
Forbes of Medwyn, one of the finest examples of the past Scottish
_lady_, was sitting, evidently much engaged with her occupation. "You
are fond of your tea, Mrs. Forbes?" The reply was quite a characteristic
one, and a pure reminiscence of such a place and such interlocutors;
"'Deed, my Lord, I wadna gie my tea for your yerldom."

My aunt, the late Lady Burnett of Leys, was one of the class of Scottish
ladies I have referred to;--thoroughly a good woman and a gentlewoman,
but in dialect quite Scottish. For example, being shocked at the sharp
Aberdonian pronunciation adopted by her children, instead of the broader
Forfarshire model in which she had been brought up, she thus adverted to
their manner of calling the _floor_ of the room where they were playing:
"What gars ye ca' it '_fleer_?' canna ye ca' it '_flure_?' But I needna
speak; Sir Robert winna let me correc' your language."

In respect of language, no doubt, a very important change has taken
place in Scotland during the last seventy years, and which, I believe,
influences, in a greater degree than many persons would imagine, the
turn of thought and general modes and aspects of society. In losing the
old racy Scottish tongue, it seems as if much originality of _character_
was lost. I suppose at one time the two countries of England and
Scotland were considered as almost speaking different languages, and I
suppose also, that from the period of the union of the crowns the
language has been assimilating. We see the process of assimilation going
on, and ere long amongst persons of education and birth very little
difference will be perceptible. With regard to that class, a great
change has taken place in my own time. I recollect old Scottish ladies
and gentlemen who really _spoke Scotch_. It was not, mark me, speaking
English with an accent. No; it was downright Scotch. Every tone and
every syllable was Scotch. For example, I recollect old Miss Erskine of
Dun, a fine specimen of a real lady, and daughter of an ancient Scottish
house, so speaking. Many people now would not understand her. She was
always _the lady_, notwithstanding her dialect, and to none could the
epithet vulgar be less appropriately applied. I speak of more than forty
years ago, and yet I recollect her accost to me as well as if it were
yesterday: "I didna ken ye were i' the toun." Taking word and accents
together, an address how totally unlike what we now meet with in
society. Some of the old Scottish words which we can remember are
charming; but how strange they would sound to the ears of the present
generation! Fancy that in walking from church, and discussing the
sermon, a lady of rank should now express her opinion of it by the
description of its being, "but a hummelcorn discourse." Many living
persons can remember Angus old ladies who would say to their nieces and
daughters, "Whatna hummeldoddie o' a mutch hae ye gotten?" meaning a
flat and low-crowned cap. In speaking of the dryness of the soil on a
road in Lanarkshire, a farmer said, "It stoors in an oor[49]." How would
this be as tersely translated into English? The late Duchess of Gordon
sat at dinner next an English gentleman who was carving, and who made it
a boast that he was thoroughly master of the Scottish language. Her
Grace turned to him and said, "Rax me a spaul o' that bubbly jock[50]."
The unfortunate man was completely _nonplussed_. A Scottish gentleman
was entertaining at his house an English cousin who professed himself as
rather knowing in the language of the north side of the Tweed. He asked
him what he supposed to be the meaning of the expression, "ripin the
ribs[51]." To which he readily answered, "Oh, it describes a very fat
man." I profess myself an out-and-out Scotchman. I have strong national
partialities--call them if you will national prejudices. I cherish a
great love of old Scottish language. Some of our pure Scottish ballad
poetry is unsurpassed in any language for grace and pathos. How
expressive, how beautiful are its phrases! You can't translate them.
Take an example of power in a Scottish expression, to describe with
tenderness and feeling what is in human life. Take one of our most
familiar phrases; as thus:--We meet an old friend, we talk over bygone
days, and remember many who were dear to us both, once bright, and
young, and gay, of whom some remain, honoured, prosperous, and happy--of
whom some are under a cloud of misfortune or disgrace--some are broken
in health and spirits--some sunk into the grave; we recall old familiar
places--old companions, pleasures, and pursuits; as Scotchmen our
hearts are touched with these remembrances of

AULD LANG SYNE.

Match me the phrase in English. You can't translate it. The fitness and
the beauty lie in the felicity of the language. Like many happy
expressions, it is not transferable into another tongue, just like the
"simplex munditiis" of Horace, which describes the natural grace of
female elegance, or the [Greek: achaexithmon gelasma] of AEschylus, which
describes the bright sparkling of the ocean in the sun.

I think the power of Scottish dialect was happily exemplified by the
late Dr. Adam, rector of the High School of Edinburgh, in his
translation of the Horatian expression "desipere in loco," which he
turned by the Scotch phrase "Weel-timed daffin';" a translation,
however, which no one but a Scotchman could appreciate. The following
humorous Scottish translation of an old Latin aphorism has been assigned
to the late Dr. Hill of St. Andrews: "_Qui bene cepit dimidium facti
fecit_" the witty Principal expressed in Scotch, "Weel saipet (well
soaped) is half shaven."

What mere _English_ word could have expressed a distinction so well in
such a case as the following? I heard once a lady in Edinburgh objecting
to a preacher that she did not understand him. Another lady, his great
admirer, insinuated that probably he was too "deep" for her to follow.
But her ready answer was, "Na, na, he's no just deep, but he's
_drumly_[52]"

We have a testimony to the value of our Scottish language from a late
illustrious Chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, the force and
authority of which no one will be disposed to question. Lord Brougham,
in speaking of improvements upon the English language, makes these
striking remarks:--

"The pure and classical language of Scotland must on no account be
regarded as a provincial dialect, any more than French was so regarded
in the reign of Henry V., or Italian in that of the first Napoleon, or
Greek under the Roman Empire. Nor is it to be in any manner of way
considered as a corruption of the Saxon; on the contrary, it contains
much of the old and genuine Saxon, with an intermixture from the
Northern nations, as Danes and Norse, and some, though a small portion,
from the Celtic. But in whatever way composed, or from whatever sources
arising, it is a national language, used by the whole people in their
early years, by many learned and gifted persons throughout life, and in
which are written the laws of the Scotch, their judicial proceedings,
their ancient history; above all, their poetry.

"There can be no doubt that the English language would greatly gain by
being enriched with a number both of words and of phrases, or turns of
expression, now peculiar to the Scotch. It was by such a process that
the Greek became the first of tongues, as well written as spoken....

"Would it not afford means of enriching and improving the English
language, if full and accurate glossaries of improved Scotch words and
phrases--those successfully used by the best writers, both in prose and
verse--were given, with distinct explanation and reference to
authorities? This has been done in France and other countries, where
some dictionaries accompany the English, in some cases with Scotch
synonyms, in others with varieties of expression."--_Installation
Address_, p. 63.

The Scotch, as a people, from their more guarded and composed method of
speaking, are not so liable to fall into that figure of speech for which
our Irish neighbours are celebrated--usually called the Bull; some
specimens, however, of that confusion of thought, very like a bull, have
been recorded of Scottish interlocutors.

Of this the two following examples have been sent to me by a kind
friend.

It is related of a Scottish judge (who has supplied several anecdotes of
Scottish stories), that on going to consult a dentist, who, as is usual,
placed him in the professional chair, and told his lordship that he must
let him put his fingers into his mouth, he exclaimed, "Na! na! ye'll
aiblins _bite me_."

A Scottish laird, singularly enough the grandson of the learned judge
mentioned above, when going his round to canvass for the county, at the
time when the electors were chiefly confined to resident proprietors,
was asked at one house where he called if he would not take some
refreshment, hesitated, and said, "I doubt it's treating, and may be
ca'd _bribery_."

But a still more amusing specimen of this figure of speech was supplied
by an honest Highlander, in the days of sedan chairs. For the benefit of
my young readers I may describe the sedan chair as a comfortable little
carriage fixed to two poles, and carried by two men, one behind and one
before. A dowager lady of quality had gone out to dinner in one of these
"leathern conveniences," and whilst she herself enjoyed the hospitality
of the mansion up-stairs, her bearers were profusely entertained
downstairs, and partook of the abundant refreshment offered to them.
When my lady was to return, and had taken her place in the sedan, her
bearers raised the chair, but she found no progress was made--she felt
herself sway first to one side, then to the other, and soon came bump
upon the ground, when Donald behind was heard shouting to Donald before
(for the bearers of sedans were always Highlanders), "Let her down,
Donald, man, _for she's drunk_."

I cannot help thinking that a change of national language involves to
some extent change of national character. Numerous examples of great
power in Scottish Phraseology, to express the picturesque, the feeling,
the wise, and the humorous, might be taken from the works of Robert
Burns, Ferguson, or Allan Ramsay, and which lose their charms altogether
when _unscottified_. The speaker certainly seems to take a strength and
character from his words. We must now look for specimens of this racy
and expressive tongue in the more retired parts of the country. It is no
longer to be found in high places. It has disappeared from the social
circles of our cities. I cannot, however, omit calling my reader's
attention to a charming specimen of Scottish prose and of Scottish
humour of our own day, contained in a little book, entitled
"_Mystifications_" by Clementina Stirling Graham. The scenes described
in that volume are matters of pleasing reminiscence, and to some of us
who still remain "will recall that blithe and winning face, sagacious
and sincere, that kindly, cheery voice, that rich and quiet laugh, that
mingled sense and sensibility, which met, and still to our happiness
meet, in her who, with all her gifts, never gratified her consciousness
of these powers so as to give pain to any human being[53]." These
words, written more than ten years ago, might have been penned
yesterday; and those who, like myself, have had the privilege of seeing
the authoress presiding in her beautiful mansion of Duntrune, will not
soon forget how happy, how gracious, and how young, old age may be.

"No fears to beat away--no strife to heal;
The past unsighed for, and the future sure."

In my early days the intercourse with the peasantry of Forfarshire,
Kincardineshire, and especially Deeside, was most amusing--not that the
things said were so much out of the common, as that the language in
which they were conveyed was picturesque, and odd, and taking. And
certainly it does appear to me that as the language grows more uniform
and conventional, less marked and peculiar in its dialect and
expressions, so does the character of those who speak it become so. I
have a rich sample of Mid-Lothian Scotch from a young friend in the
country, who describes the conversation of an old woman on the property
as amusing her by such specimens of genuine Scottish raciness and
humour. On one occasion, for instance, the young lady had told her
humble friend that she was going to Ireland, and would have to undergo a
sea voyage. "Weel, noo, ye dinna mean that! Ance I thocht to gang across
to tither side o' the Queensferry wi' some ither folks to a fair, ye
ken; but juist whene'er I pat my fit in the boat, the boat gae wallop,
and my heart gae a loup, and I thocht I'd gang oot o' my judgment
athegither; so says I, Na, na, ye gang awa by yoursells to tither side,
and I'll bide here till sic times as ye come awa back." When we hear
our Scottish language at home, and spoken by our own countrymen, we are
not so much struck with any remarkable effects; but it takes a far more
impressive character when heard amongst those who speak a different
tongue, and when encountered in other lands. I recollect hearing the
late Sir Robert Liston expressing this feeling in his own case. When our
ambassador at Constantinople, some Scotchmen had been recommended to him
for a purpose of private or of government business; and Sir Robert was
always ready to do a kind thing for a countryman. He found them out in a
barber's shop, waiting for being shaved in turn. One came in rather
late, and seeing he had scarcely room at the end of the seat, addressed
his countryman, "Neebour, wad ye sit a bit _wast_?" What strong
associations must have been called up, by hearing in an eastern land
such an expression in Scottish tones.

We may observe here, that marking the course any person is to take, or
the direction in which any object is to be met with, by the points of
the compass, was a prevailing practice amongst the older Scottish race.
There could hardly be a more ludicrous application of the test, than was
furnished by an honest Highlander in describing the direction which his
medicine would _not_ take. Jean Gumming of Altyre, who, in common with
her three sisters, was a true soeur de charite, was one day taking her
rounds as usual, visiting the poor sick, among whom there was a certain
Donald MacQueen, who had been some time confined to his bed. Miss
Gumming, after asking him how he felt, and finding that he was "no
better," of course inquired if he had taken the medicine which she had
sent him; "Troth no, me lady," he replied. "But why not, Donald?" she
answered; "it was _very wrong_; how can you expect to get better if you
do not help yourself with the remedies which heaven provides for you?"
"_V_right or _V_rang," said Donald, "it wadna gang _wast_ in spite o'
me." In all the north country, it is always said, "I'm ganging east or
west," etc., and it happened that Donald on his sick bed was lying east
and west, his feet pointing to the latter direction, hence his reply to
indicate that he could not swallow the medicine!

We may fancy the amusement of the officers of a regiment in the West
Indies, at the innocent remark of a young lad who had just joined from
Scotland. On meeting at dinner, his salutation to his Colonel was,
"Anither het day, Cornal," as if "het days" were in Barbadoes few and
far between, as they were in his dear old stormy cloudy Scotland. Or
take the case of a Scottish saying, which indicated at once the dialect
and the economical habits of a hardy and struggling race. A young
Scotchman, who had been some time in London, met his friend recently
come up from the north to pursue his fortune in the great metropolis. On
discussing matters connected with their new life in London, the more
experienced visitor remarked upon the greater _expenses_ there than in
the retired Scottish town which they had left. "Ay," said the other,
sighing over the reflection, "when ye get cheenge for a saxpence here,
it's soon slippit awa'." I recollect a story of my father's which
illustrates the force of dialect, although confined to the inflections
of a single monosyllable. On riding home one evening, he passed a
cottage or small farm-house, where there was a considerable assemblage
of people, and an evident incipient merry-making for some festive
occasion. On asking one of the lasses standing about, what it was, she
answered, "Ou, it's just a wedding o' Jock Thamson and Janet Frazer." To
the question, "Is the bride rich?" there was a plain quiet "Na." "Is she
young?" a more emphatic and decided "Naa!" but to the query, "Is she
bonny?" a most elaborate and prolonged shout of "Naaa!"

It has been said that the Scottish dialect is peculiarly powerful in its
use of _vowels_, and the following dialogue between a shopman and a
customer has been given as a specimen. The conversation relates to a
plaid hanging at the shop door--

_Cus_. (inquiring the material), Oo? (wool?)

_Shop_. Ay, oo (yes, of wool).

_Cus_. A' oo? (all wool?)

_Shop_. Ay, a' oo (yes, all wool).

_Cus_. A' ae oo? (all same wool?)

_Shop_. Ay a' ae oo (yes, all same wool).

An amusing anecdote of a pithy and jocular reply, comprised in one
syllable, is recorded of an eccentric legal Scottish functionary of the
last century. An advocate, of whose professional qualifications he had
formed rather a low estimate, was complaining to him of being passed
over in a recent appointment to the bench, and expressed his sense of
the injustice with which he had been treated. He was very indignant at
his claims and merit being overlooked in their not choosing him for the
new judge, adding with much acrimony, "And I can tell you they might
have got a 'waur[54].'" To which, as if merely coming over the
complainant's language again, the answer was a grave "Whaur[55]?" The
merit of the impertinence was, that it sounded as if it were merely a
repetition of his friend's last words, waur and whaur. It was as if
"_echo_ answered whaur?" As I have said, the oddity and acuteness of
the speaker arose from the manner of expression, not from the thing
said. In fact, the same thing said in plain English would be mere
commonplace. I recollect being much amused with a dialogue between a
late excellent relative of mine and his man, the chief manager of a farm
which he had just taken, and, I suspect in a good measure manager of the
_farmer_ as well. At any rate he committed to this acute overseer all
the practical details; and on the present occasion had sent him to
market to dispose of a cow and a pony, a simple enough transaction, and
with a simple enough result. The cow was, brought back, the pony was
sold. But the man's description of it forms the point. "Well, John, have
you sold the cow?" "Na, but I _grippit_ a chiel for the powny!"
"_Grippit_" was here most expressive. Indeed, this word has a
significance hardly expressed by any English one, and used to be very
prevalent to indicate keen and forcible tenacity of possession; thus a
character noted for avarice or sharp looking to self-interest was termed
"grippy." In mechanical contrivances, anything taking a close adherence
was called having a gude _grip_. I recollect in boyish days, when on
Deeside taking wasp-nests, an old man looking on was sharply stung by
one, and his description was, "Ane o' them's grippit me fine." The
following had an indescribable piquancy, which arose from the
_Scotticism_ of the terms and the manners. Many years ago, when
accompanying a shooting party on the Grampians, not with a gun like the
rest, but with a botanical box for collecting specimens of mountain
plants, the party had got very hot, and very tired, and very cross. On
the way home, whilst sitting down to rest, a gamekeeper sort of
attendant, and a character in his way, said, "I wish I was in the
dining-room of Fasque." Our good cousin the Rev. Mr. Wilson, minister
of Farnel, who liked well a quiet shot at the grouse, rather testily
replied, "Ye'd soon be _kickit_ out o' that;" to which the other
replied, not at all daunted, "Weel, weel, then I wadna be far frae the
kitchen." A quaint and characteristic reply I recollect from another
farm-servant. My eldest brother had just been constructing a piece of
machinery which was driven by a stream of water running through the home
farmyard. There was a thrashing machine, a winnowing machine, and
circular saw for splitting trees into paling, and other contrivances of
a like kind. Observing an old man, who had long been about the place,
looking very attentively at all that was going on, he said, "Wonderful
things people can do now, Robby!" "Ay," said Robby; "indeed, Sir
Alexander, I'm thinking gin Solomon were alive noo he'd be thocht
naething o'!"

The two following derive their force entirely from the Scottish turn of
the expressions. Translated into English, they would lose all point--at
least, much of the point which they now have:--

At the sale of an antiquarian gentleman's effects in Roxburghshire,
which Sir Walter Scott happened to attend, there was one little article,
a Roman _patina_, which occasioned a good deal of competition, and was
eventually knocked down to the distinguished baronet at a high price.
Sir Walter was excessively amused during the time of bidding to observe
how much it excited the astonishment of an old woman, who had evidently
come there to buy culinary utensils on a more economical principle. "If
the parritch-pan," she at last burst out--"If the parritch-pan gangs at
that, what will the kail-pat gang for?"

An ancestor of Sir Walter Scott joined the Stuart Prince in 1715, and,
with his brother, was engaged in that unfortunate adventure which ended
in a skirmish and captivity at Preston. It was the fashion of those
times for all persons of the rank of gentlemen to wear scarlet
waistcoats. A ball had struck one of the brothers, and carried part of
this dress into his body, and in this condition he was taken prisoner
with a number of his companions, and stripped, as was too often the
practice in those remorseless wars. Thus wounded, and nearly naked,
having only a shirt on, and an old sack about him, the ancestor of the
great poet was sitting, along with his brother and a hundred and fifty
unfortunate gentlemen, in a granary at Preston. The wounded man fell
sick, as the story goes, and vomited the scarlet cloth which the ball
had passed into the wound. "O man, Wattie," cried his brother, "if you
have a wardrobe in your wame, I wish you would vomit me a pair o'
breeks." But, after all, it was amongst the old ladies that the great
abundance of choice pungent Scottish expressions, such as you certainly
do not meet with in these days, was to be sought. In their position of
society, education either in England, or education conducted by English
teachers, has so spread in Scottish families, and intercourse with the
south has been so increased, that all these colloquial peculiarities are
fast disappearing. Some of the ladies of this older school felt some
indignation at the change which they lived to see was fast going on. One
of them being asked if an individual whom she had lately seen was
"Scotch," answered with some bitterness, "I canna say; ye a' speak sae
_genteel_ now that I dinna ken wha's Scotch." It was not uncommon to
find, in young persons, examples, some years ago, of an attachment to
the Scottish dialect, like that of the old lady. In the life of P.
Tytler, lately published, there is an account of his first return to
Scotland from a school in England. His family were delighted with his
appearance, manners, and general improvement; but a sister did not share
this pleasure unmixed, for being found in tears, and the remark being
made, "Is he not charming?" her reply was, in great distress, "Oh yes,
but he speaks English!"

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34