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i
THE SCOTTISH GALLQVIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA.
O L \ B o o w : l^rlntrd xt the anUriTBity Vtree,
BV MACLIHMB AND MACDOPQALh.
THE SCOTTISH
GALLOVIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA.
BY
JOHN MACTAOGART.
.S/-;(V)AV) FP/J'/O.V.
■>
-'
LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAAtS-,AND Cy.
• - ^« ^
GLASGOW: THOMAS D.'-MCjRIjSaN.'';'
1876. •-'-•
19/7 J
Imprcssiou, Two Hundred and Fifty Copies.
'.'•.
:;••'
•f" '•» • • • ••« •
• • • • 0
• ••
#
• ^ z * « • •
V • ••
• • • • • *
' - -, •
•••.•*
THE
SCOTTISH
©allobiiimn Sncgdopeiim,
OR,
1 HK ORIGINAL, ANTIQUATED, AND NATURAL
CURIOSITIES
OF THE
SOUTH OF SCOTLAND;
coNTAiNim;
SKETCHES OF ECCENTRIC CHARACTERS AND CURIOUS PLACES, WITH
EXPLANATIONS OF SINGULAR WORDS, TERMS, AND PHRASES;
INTERSPERSED WITH POEMS, TALES, ANECDOTES, ETC.,
AND VARIOUS OTHER STRANGE MATIERS ;
THK WHOLE
ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE WAYS OF THE PEASANTRY, AND MANNERS OF
CALEDONIA ;
OR A WN OUT AND ALPHA BETJCALL Y ARRANGED,
By JOHN MACTAGGART.
"MAY ne'er WAUR 1!E AMANG TS."
Tinkler s Totut.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, AND
SOLD BY MORRISON, FENCHURCH STREET ; STEUART AND PANTON, CHEAPSIDE; A. CONSTABLE AND CO., EDINBURGH; WARDLAW AND CUNNINGHAM, GLASGOW; J. SINCLAIR, DUMFRIES ; J. NICHOL- SON, KIRKCUDBRIGHT; AND J. DICK, AYR.
1824.
TO ALL HONEST AND WARM-HEARTED
GALLOVIDIANS,
THIS WORK IS DEDICA TED
BY THKlk AFFKCTIONATK FRIEND, AND
HUMBLK COUNTRYMAN,
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
A S it has been fashionable with authors now a long time, to place before their books things called Introductions, I dare say then (to be something like those strange fellows in whose corps I am enlisted), one must appear before mine, though methinks they are not of much use on the whole, but resemble, in general, a methodist dranting grace before dinner.
O ! that I could make mine seem like a lovely country lass, with fair yellow hair, red cheeks, and bosom divinely moulded ; just like her who conducts strangers down a worthy farmer's trance^ to where, in rural divan, are assembled a heavenly family.
But doubtful am I that it will turn out to be more like a " rouch curr tyke" seated in a comfortable manner on some foggy tomacky on his " ain twa tashellie hurdiesy^ introducing, with many bouchs and boW'icmvs^ a straggling club of ill-tongued tinklerSy with their cuddies^ their hampers^ and their ram-Jwrns^ to a wild clauchafiy situated in the " loop " of some wild moor- land glen.
Be these things as they may, however, either as fancied, or, like the great English Lexicographer's ** 1 wo-and-forty pounder before the door of a swine-stye," I shall proceed as quietly as possible, though, most likely, in a rambling manner.
How, and when the notion of this production first struck my foolish brain, I am at a loss to say ; I am inclined to imagine that it is mostly the work of instinct ; that the conception of
X INTRUDUCnoN.
it was created in my scull, when that thick skull itself was created, and afterwards expanded as it expanded ; for, from my youngest days I have been a wanderer amid the wilds of na- ture, and keenly fond of every curious thing belonging to my native country ; while Providence has surely been very kind to me in this respect, for casting my lot in a nation among a rare and singular class of mankind.
There is nothing I am prouder of than that I am a Scotch- man, and, I may add, a Scotch Peasant too; for where on all the earth is there a country that can be compared to Scotland, in every noble thing that elevates a nation? and where is there a class of human beings to be found like her peasantry? they are not only an honour to the land they live in, but a credit to the whole world, though I, for one, add little to their glory.
The songs which have been produced by them, charm some of the inhabitants of every zone. Italian ditties, formed by the most tuneful bards of that country, are but like the " Cheeps o the Stro^vmouse^^ to the mellow notes of the " Alavis^' when compared to them ; and when the lays of the land, like a ** boot^^ sink so far beneath those of the glens of the north, those of no other department of the globe dare be sung in com- petition with them.
But the divine art of a Bums, or an Ettrick Shepherd, is not by any means the only thing which upraises, or has upraised, the " kintra-folks d Auld Scotland^'' they have it in their power to brag of producing learned men and philosophers ; they have turned out Kuclids and Socrates' s. Mungo Park, too, the cele- brated traveller, was a peasant ; but, above all, they have the patriot Wullie Wallace^ whom none but a Switzerland Tell can be put on the weigh-beam with \ and, what is all this to their warm honest hearts, their tender feelings, their simple manners, and their strong independent minds? He would be a writer of pith, indeed, who could praise them too much, and one of matchless impudence who could revile them ; they are, though, in need of neither, for they exist before the eyes of the world, and speak for themselves.
Yet for all, till of late, the Scotch peasantry have been
INTRODUCTION. XI
allowed to remain on their dear rural mountains and dales, without being ever looked at almost by travellers, or said a word about by historians. It was not until they themselves found out the way of noting upon paper, that anything re- specting them has come to light ; and their great modesty hath not allowed them even yet to say very much.
We have voUuncs on volumes, as many as would fill a score of whurl-barnni's^ all wrote resi)ecting our Kings, Queens, and *' ither Ugfowk" yet hardly a word said about the ^'people ; " nor is this neglect to be wondered at, when we consider what noise and stir these nobles made in the days of yore ; no poor penman chap durst think or speak of any other creatures but them, when guns are a " crackin aff at our lugs," and dirks a driving into ** briskets " to the ///// ; few are so bold as be so composed as to tell old tales or sing a bufich " o^ hamely balladsr
So then, our works in the vernacular language of the olden time are but scanty ; and suppose there had been more, suppose there had been yet extant the poems of fifty bards as old as ** Tom the Rhymer, or Barbour,^' still I am inclined to think that the lingo of those distant days, as spoken by the peasantry, could not be hunted out ; the natives mostly of every nation, have generally at least two tongues they work with, the rustic and the polite, the one spoken by the grandees, the other by the commonalty ; now, methinks, our old bards have all written in the former, for it is the same language with ancient English and German, in which we find their books wrote, and this was the court language of their day : for my own part, I doubt th^re has never been a genuine rustic MS. of an ancient date come before the world.
But true it is, there is no race of men stands less in need of historians to record their deeds and draw their manners than these I have been talking of ; for, as they abide so close by the laws of nature, their variations are few, their artless simplicity admits of little change to take i)lace, though learning may be a boggle for frighting away some of their freets and superstitious obscrviuiccs, yet these they do not in a hurry forget for all ; for though some of them now may fail, for instance, to hold ** auld
XII INrRODUCTION.
hallmoeen^' still thc7 know well how it was wont to be held, and the same with every other concern of the time gone by. There are still many who see fames yet, and believe in the tale of warlocks^ ghaists^ wraiths^ and 7intc/ics, and while there are such persons, and such there always will be in Scotland, nothing of ancient fun and fancy has a chance to be lost. And so long as old people delight to talk about themselves, and young ones listen, and so long as such goodly things as farenichts are kept up, it is likely that the most of what resj^cts the " kintrafawk " will be known, when time is a very " /yarf- headed auld carU'^
So I scamper along rather in the " ram stam " manner, and a beautiful introduction is doubtless a composing; fearless quite of criticism am I, and by no means sharkish inclined for fame ; this work, intended from the beginning a present to my native country, makes me no way afraid that it shall soon perish ; it will be found in many a rustic library of the south of Scotland, scores of years after I am in the grave ; it will be a book that will never create much noise, yet still it will not be in a hurry forgot ; in that same " bole " with the " warks " of Allan Cunninghamj Burns, Nicholson, Peden^s Prophecies, and Riitherford^s Letters, will it take its place. And though some, in looking it over, may laugh and wonder how any body of common sense would take time up writing and printing such j/7/v-looking matters, still the more they consider the affair the less they will be inclined to wonder, and at last feel rather disposed to come over to my side of the (question ; for 1 have heard a good Scotch tale laughed at by Scotchmen, and rather ridiculed at the first and second reading, and an English poem praised at first glance to the skies, which, in a little time, changed hues like the chamclion, changed so that the darling poem was not spoke about at all, whereas the other was read and better read, until a lasting edition became printed on the heart.
Perhaps it may be thought that I am sporting myself at pre- sent at vanity fair, but I beg to say that I am (juite serious ; I am prophecying what exj)erience tells me will come to pass, for little of this faulty book of mine was composed in the closet, in the musty library of cobwebs \ no, it was gathered by my
INTRODUCTION. Xlll
own eyes and cars, concocted in my own slender intellect while at my rural employment, and >\Tote down on scraps of paper as I found it convenient, in the midst of the works of nature, in the open air, beneath the flaring sun, in a quarry hole perhaps. Sometimes again on a " braesidcy'' and ablins whiles in a " thick iimdy' or on the back of a '' grey-stanc ;'' the whole, therefore, has the smell, as it were, of Nature ; her rudeness is about it, and when her plaid keeps the shoulders of anything warm, that thing looks contented indeed.
No Adi^ocaU^ library has been flung open to me — no Aiich- enleck MS. has been given to favor my researches — the whole is the doing of habit and memory — never having the oppor- tunity to receive regular education — my learning has been all got by snatches — and good hints have been of service to me. And this I regret the less, for had I been a mighty scholar, books would have filled my brain ; I could have discovered few Nootka Sounds, or places and things out of the common navigator's tract; and more so, there was little need that I should be deep read in the Earse, the ancient Scandinavian, and Norse languages, in order that I might hit the roots of the strange words I bring forward ; (as the worthy Dr. Jamieson has bravely done, with the Scotch words found in books ;) for if he pleases, he may give, if he can, the derivations of my words, caught as flying from the Peasant's mouth.
He may rummage the archives of yore to satisfy the throb- bing heart of the inquirer. I will take the world as it stands, and see what I can find to please myself and other rustics ; — some of the Doctor's words I have also put down to make mine more complete, and it will be found I am obliged to differ from him whiles with respect to their meanings. It is not one man nor ten that can compose a national dictionary; it takes much time, and many writers, to produce a standard, and it will also be found, it is to be hoped, that I copy nothing from him, nor any other.
I have none to thank for lending me a hand to perform the job — indeed, I asked none ; the whole was composed without any knowing but myself that such a concern was on the " jAv^j," by keeping the thing dark I came on better: for none
XIV INTRODUCTION.
were afraid to talk with me on old matters, because thev did not suspect I was "Az/Cv// notes;'' had they thought that the " aiM wives " and manv others would have trembled for me, and keep*d their mouths sealed. As it was, it required me to use some craft in order to get at information I wanted ; by put- ting questions direct nothing is obtained, but to talk in a care- less manner about the subjects wanted, as if it was little matter about them, then everything comes bolting out.
From those characters most famous for originality of mind, I received the things of greatest value ; these are all mostly patriotic Gallovidians, and scorn to lose any of that darling legacy left them by their forefathers ; they scorn to lisp English, but tell their honest tales in plain " Braid Scotch^
For there are many classes of peasantry in Scotland, they are by no means all " tarred wi' the same stick^' as the sa}nng is. Their various situations and various tempers help to make the difference. Those of the Lmuthian and Benvickshires^ for instance, are quite different from those of Yarr<yiodale and Galawater^ and just because the one is a level, fertile, plough- able tract, and the other a pastural land, of hills, of glens, and wild mountains. The natives of these latter pleasant places have their minds more poetically tinged than the former, being much more among the works of nature ; and then, being in general shepherds, they have leisure to behold and admire her in every form, while the others are confined to the arts of agri- culture, and are obliged to grovel in the earth without almost having time to look up at the sun even for a moment. In ever>' way do peasants so differently situated differ from each other ; and in nothing more than their language. The dung-cart hind has a stinking slang which he gilds his turnip ideas with, where- as the other plaids his rare fancy in pure and simple words, which are at once pleasingly melancholy and beautiful.
Neither of these ranks of peasants though, whom I have been talking about, are the same with those of the South of Scotland ; they occupy a place somewhere between them, and partake a little of what belongs to both. They are not exactly of the mountain nor of the plain, but of the hills, the hollows, the woods, and the waters between ; their imaginations wallow
INTRODUCTION. W
not in putrid sludge, neither do they live with phantoms beyond the moon, and spirits of the blast ; but with matters of a manly and strong substantiality.
When tracing the nature of their language, it is soon seen that they are rather of a Celtic and Saxon origin ; the three letters "^//," which terminate many of their words, strike one at once, that old Gaul has been amongst them with a witness ; and the various terms which have their roots in the Saxon and Teutonic, bespeak the Scandinavians having, too, " a finger in the pie." However, I doubt not but my natives of the South use many strange words, which neither Celt nor Saxon ever mouthed — but tribes of more remote antiquity than any of them. WTio knows but old " Daddie Druid,'' who dipped so deeply into the works of nature, might have let a few of his rare secrets escape his temple aneath the gnarVd oak tree, for there are few races of beings on the earth a match for them at mimicating the sounds into words, which Nature herself is heard to utter ; not a sound she emits by any of her works, but they follow her to an astonishing closeness ; and so a good part of their tongue is of an universal stamp, and might be under- stood by the inhabitants of almost every country.
Thus the word ^^ guidering,'' which we use to express the sound a turkey cock emits when in wrath, with his tail " ///- /an'd'' and ^^ fiiM/e red" \s much like ^'' gl(nvgl(nvter^' used for the same purpose by the French and Germans.
But I must be thinking of coming to a conclusion, and the sooner I susoect that happens, the more I shall look like a wise man.
If any consider themselves hurt by the mention I may have made of them in the course of the work, their pardon 1 ask, for I am by no means of a surly temper ; and though I some- times bite my own tongue between my teeth, it is because I am not aware that it is in a place liable to be bitten ; so if I have injured any one, it is because I was not aware of that either.
Those whom I have drawn as originals, as surely they are, will not rail against me, for originals care not what is said by any one respecting them ; and as for the errors of the work, and many there are in it, let them rest on my own broad hack.
XVI INTRODUCTION.
Works of this kind are always fuller of errors than any others ; also, should any be displeased because I have not taken notice of some curiosity which was a favourite of theirs, be it told, that I was either not of their way of thinking, or that I knew nothing about it.
If the concern ever comes to a second edition^ a thing not to be expected, in this century at least, it may be made more com- plete by the mention of what has escaped notice — till then, it may remain as it is ; and if I could hear the genuine opinion of one honest warm-hearted rough countryman^ and that opinion favourable, then I would be beyond the grasp of the fangs of all the critics in the world — for his judgment is dictated by Nature, and when she is pleased, all is well.
I am pretty sure already, that there are some " kintra-fcmtk " it will not anger very much, and that they will let me share ^^pot-iuck " with them, when I take my fishing rambles away by the wild moorland " burns''
Perhaps some may think I deal too much in poetry ; I must tell those, that it is not to shew that I know a trifle about the art — for a ''^trifle'' I only know, being no poet. But I am fonder always of something wild and out-of-the-way, than if it were humble and tame ; that is to say, I admire the manners of the " Foumart'' before those of " Bawdrons ;" and a " Brock" more than a *^^ Lap-dog," So, God bless my friends, and Heaven ever smile on the natives of the South of Scotland ; for a better race of beings is no where to be found between the sea and the sun.
TORRS,
I'cbruary I?///, 1S2V
THE
GALLO VIDIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA,
&c. &c.
A.
l\ — All. But the natives of Galloway, and their neigh- bours of the South, take a larger mouthfti of it than the other people of Scotland ; that is to say, they pronounce it broader, and can be known to belong to that district of the Lan d' Cakes by this little circumstance.
Abee — Alone. Let me abee^ or let me bee; means, let me alone ; these phrases are much used by children, and wanton maidens; the latter of whom desire their Lads often to let them abee — When the truth is, they would take it very ill were they obeyed.
Abeigh — Aloof, shy, &c. She keefd hersell abeigh ; means, she fought shy, that her affections were not easy to gain.
Ablins — Perhaps, likely, may be, &c. Sometimes a word pronounced able, is used in its stead.
Abok or Yabok. A name for a gabbing, impudent, chatting child.
Aboon — Above. The Lift Abootu The Firmament above.
Aboon-broe — Above water. It is said of those who can hardly keep themselves from sinking in the horrific pool of misery, that they can barely keep themselves aboon-broe:
2 ABO ABO
broe, in this and all other cases, meaning, a tap liquid of some kind or other.
About the Buss — About the bush. A very old phrase, signifying, not downright, the way of a mean sculking coward. Thus we say of an honest man, that he never goes about the buss; he never attempts to cheat, has no doublings to defraud ; he makes nae iang wund stories^ and whaups {the rape. No, no ; he drives right forward, through bush and brier.
In that good old Poem, the Cherrie and the Siae, writ- ten by Captain Alexander Montgomery, about 1590, and printed by Bob Walgrave, some seven years after, we meet with this phrase respecting the Buss very frequently ; as in the 46th verse, when branding dread, danger, and despair, as cowards :
" They are mair faschions, nor of Feck, ** Zon fazards durst not for their neck, ** Clim' up the craig to us.
** Frae we determined to dee,
** Or else to clim Zon Cherrie Tree,
" They bade— About the Buss."— &c.
And in the 77th verse of the same Poem, it is said of Experience,
** For Authors quha alleges us, ** They wad na gae about the buss,
** To foster deidly feid, &c."
In no other author of the Captain's day, nor in any I have seen before him, is this phrase to be met with; and as it is heard used at the present day ten times in Gal- loway, for once in any other part of Scotland, it may help to prove, that Montgomery was either a native of the country, or well acquainted with its language. It is said he was bom in Germany, but that the greater part of his life he passed in Scotland, but where in Scotland, has been a question; various towns and counties claim him. Tradition says he lived at Cummingstown, on the banks
ABR ACK 3
of the Tarf — Galloway — now known by the name of Cumms- town ; this seems very probable, for many reasons, but particularly from passages in his Poem, actually pointing out the natural scenery of this seat of the Gumming. In truth, his muse seems often to have heard the roarin sough of the DocLchs o^ Tongueland Water,
Abreed — Abroad. Scatter it abreed to the four louns means scatter it abroad, to the mercy of the winds.
AcKAViTV, AcKWAViTY, or AcKWA. — The chief of all spirituous liquors, viz.. Whisky, when taken to excess, does not even make such a wreck of the human constitution as others do, such as rum and brandy, and when taken in moderation, as it should be, there is none other half so good. Far be it from me to hold up any thing that may be thought allied to vice; and if whisky be so, as many grave men think, I have little cause to eulogize it, being no great bottle man : nature having given me a frame of body that is a sworn foe to any fluid stronger than Adam^s Wifie, However, as the majority of men are moulded different, I will say, that a dram d gude ackwa and caulier-water, refreshes a fainting heart, in a sultry simmer day ; and the same quantity o' Farintosh, is quite comfortable to take in a cauld wunter morning, while even a Tumbler or twa d Toddy , looks social on an evening. So I won*t join with M'Neil and others, in saying it is the Scaith d Scotlan, I am more incHned to side with Bums to a certain extent Scotland may be very thankful that it is her prevailing drink; as a drink, like every other nation, she must have ; the English have their drowzy brown stout, the Turks their opium, the South Sea Islanders their kava ; but what brings on a quicker, or a happier intoxication, than the pure Mountain dew 1 how it exhilarates the soul, how it exposes the sons of men, and shows them in their true colours, be they good, bad, witty, or how ; it tries their strength, as itself is tried by specific
4 ACK ADD
gravity ; letting it be known, the beads they sink or swim. The old song is at this of it :
** A man whan he's sober is deils ill to ken, " Gude sooks than there's nae kenning o' him,
** But prime him wi nappie than ye may gae ben, ** And learn what he is — for 'twill show him."
Many have whisky to be a slow poison, which, perhaps, it may be, in a certain degree, i)articularl7 if any way adulterated. A person told the celebrated Billy Marshall the Tinkler^ once, that it was a slaw pizion — " It maun be deils slaw indeed, quoth the Ciypsey Chief, for I hae tooted it OHTe in nogginfus now, for mair than a hunner year, and am tae fore yet hale and fear." He died when 1 20 years of age.
And once, a Kirkcubrie carter^ having brought some coals to a certain very abstemious medical man, the doctor, according to the custom of the country, presented him with a dram d lohisky for by-payment The carter drank it off in a moment, making his 7i*cc finger tiuirl above the quickly emptied glass, in fine stile ; when, quoth the Doctor, with some emphasis — " That's a nail in thy coffin, Sanders." " May be sae (replied the drunkard) I wish it were fu o* sic tackets."
Adder-beads — Beads made by Adders. Such beads are common now in museums, and other repositories of rarities ; they are mostly about the size of a hazle-nut, oval shaped, of an amber hue, but full of specks of other beautiful colours — The hole through them is about half an inch in diameter, and large enough to admit a child's little finger. That the Adders make them, is never doubted, but how, is as yet never exactly known; the country people say it is gone about this way. Seven old Adders, with manes on their backs, have a meeting in some snug heather bush, before the sun ; with them is also a long small white one ; operations are begun by the hairy reptiles, putting forth
ADD ADD 5
from their mouths a glutinous matter of a honey colour. The white Adder moulds this into a certain shape, forming the hole by creeping through it — and still as it creeps in-through and out-through the matter, the old ones keep salivating it — so the bead is constructed, and left to harden in the sun.
But (add the peasantry) it is impossible to stand any time, and behold them thus at work in their bead manu- factory— ^as at these times they are full of wrath and swift- ness ; so that if the observer be seen by them, he has little chance to get off alive.
For my own part, I much doubt if this operation of the viper hath ever yet been beheld by human eyes ; the beads are found in the places where the Adders abound, and no where else ; they are found too, in greater or less quantities, according as the serpents are for number; so every thing about them argues they are a production of the Adder, but for what purpose they form them none can tell ; the subject, though, methinks, might be dipped deeper into by naturalists than it is. To illustrate it, however, a little farther, I may give the Poem of the
ADDKR-13EAI).
Sawncrs Beiliebank a peeling
Heathery scraws upon the moor. To riggin tight his simple shieling
The shiel whilk did his l)aimies co'er.
Sol was bceking warm and brissling,
In a heather buss hears he Fuffing soun's — and meikle fissling,
Sawners steps aside to see.
But — mercy on his auld grey beanly,
Sic a sight he never saw ; A sight for whilk he was afeard, ay,
While a day on him did daw.
Adders rough, and gruesome horrid,
Casting on their and)er-bead ; A white ane, wattled and bored,
Gluey tongues did slake and feed.
ADD ADD
Sawners at the knees did totter,
Deil the tae the man cud gang ; Still he stood — his flesh did sotter,
Sure was he they wad him stang.
Travellers hae aften stated That Indian bodies, ow're the sea,
Hae been like Sawners fascinated, Unfit frae rattlesnakes to flee.
Ay, he shook and swat and glowred.
Blinkers winking no ava ; Expecting just to be devoured.
But faith, his Flauchter-spade did fa'.
This broke the charm — than Sawners held it, Down the moor wi* speed he flew :
What spangs he made, now quick he wheeld it, Thinking the adders did pursue.
And that they wampuzd just ahin him.
Gaining on him every spang ; And that they'd soon be darting in him
Mony a witterd poisonous stang.
Up the fell his son was climing,
Wi' the nocket in his han' ; He sees his father bounding, skimming.
For what, he cudna understan.
" What's a' the hurry, father," cries he, " See ye the boggle o' the moor? "
But the parent never spies he. Nor yet heard him, we are sure.
The boy, thus frightened wi' his father,
Flang awa the mid-day chack ; And down the brae, amang the heather.
Followed him what he could crack.
At last the body, sairly scared
Got within his castle gate ; He dash'd it too, and had it barred.
Quaking at an unco rate.
**Gude preserve us, my dear Sawners, ** What in a' the warl is wrang ; "
(Quo' the wife) than Stan's and won'ers Wi' a wrinkled craig fu' lang.
He took himscll a skilt o' water,
Pech'd and drank, and pech'd again ;
Than tell'd his family a' the matter, How he was sae nearlv slain.
ADD ADD
At length his restless pulse mair queem grew,
He'd tae bed and tak a nap ; His kind Lucky glad did seem now,
And wi' the cuiting him did hap.
Through the neighbours ran the story, Ilk ane trimmled that did hear ;
Aroun' the shielin, on the morrow. Shepherds armed did appear.
Some had whups and some had cudgells,
A* had tykes wad M'orry fast ; Some had meikle heather budjells.
To blaze and throw the de'ils aghast.
An Irish lad frae county Derry, Brag'd that he'd do this and that ;
By St. Patrick, swore he merry, ** Adders will not harm a Pat."
Sawners, laith to be the leader
O' the daring armed squad, Paddy choose to be its header,
Let the sport be good or bad.
Soon aroun' the awfu centre
Circled the crew wi' speed ; Close beside it ane did venture,
And beheld the Adder-bead.
He click 'd it up, and in his bosom
Clap'd the bonny freckled gem. Crying — ** It will deck my blossom,"
Lovely flower o' sappie stem.
Whilk was Sawnies' bonny daughter,
Wi' her merry een sae gleg ; Lang the lad had wooing sought her,
Nee'r refused him darling Meg.
Collies' thrang about were snuffing The awfu game cud no be seen ;
At length, out wampuzd three loud fuffing. Rough and strong wi' blazing ee'n.
Now an unco kauch and hurry
Mang the bravoes did begin ; Whups did smak and Collies' worry
Down the moor did Paddy rin.
Was ere it thought the son of Erin Wad been the first to turn and flee,
But na matter, without fearin, Gallovidians stood the spree.
8 ADD ADD
And o*ercam the hules completely.
Adders killed they nine or ten ; Cl'w'ar'd the moor o' vermin neatly,
Fire made them quickly sten.
He wha found the bead swunged monniest,
A gallant handsome younker he ; His sweetheart was amang the bonniest
Maidens ever man did see.
By a ribbon he suspended
Roun' her bonny neck wi' speed. The what he frae the serpents rended.
The amber shining Adder-bead.
Soon the blythesome pair war marrieil,
Pretty damsels did they breed ; And the prettiest always wcared
The hinnie spreckled Adder-bead.
Sae when we meet in Gallowa
A fair-haird lass wi' cheeks fu' red, We say she's bonny — ay, and braw,
Weel wordy o' an Adder-bead.
God bless them a', exclaims the poet,
May they lack o' lads ne'er dread. And mony hae, and yet not know it,
Title for an Adder- bead.
This is a very silly Poem, but given here merely because it treats of that mystic subject the Adder-bead.
Adder o* Baldoon. — Amongst the many traditions of Galloway, appears one, entitled the Adder d Baldoon^ the foundation of which is, that a reptile of enormous size was killed about sixty years ago, on the fertile hawtns of Baldoon, near Wigtown ; it measured somewhere about eight or nine feet in length, and in thickness that of a man's arm. A shepherd traced it out one dewy morning, by the path it had left on the wet grass, and his dog having come up on it beyond a dyke, a dreadful con- flict ensued between Collie and our Boa Constrictor ; the strong 7)'/r, however, succeeded in worrying the huge monster, but not until the serpent had stung him so that he died next morning. The herd himself was so panic struck with the scene, that he was never like himscll again ; and died soon aftenvards ; poor fellow, he fancied that it was an
ADD ADD 9
Hurchon that Rover had fallen in with at first — little did he expect it was an Adder, and one of such magnitude. Such seems to be nearly the true part of the tale. The stuffed skin of it is yet to be seen, I am told, in some gentleman's museum in that part of the Country. Warm imaginations have made a good deal of the tale though. They give it wings and claws, and finishes a dragon, which was as thick as a corn sack fu; so the whole becomes good food for bairnics to take during a Forenicht.
Adder's Aith. — What follows is an Adder's Oath —
** I hae made a vow — and I'll keep it true,
** That I'll never stang man, through gude sheep's woo."
So it may well keep it, for it cannot break it The Adder cannot pour its venom into a wound made by its fangs, through any thing woollen ; the wool brushes away the virus; There is some invention in this Aith^ ascribed to the viper. It is in vain to take the oath of a man, for instance, who is base, poisonous, and of a reptile nature, for he will break all oaths, and sting as before ; but when he is sworn from harming any thing that is not in his power to harm, whether the oath be off or on ; then all's well.
Adder Sloughs. — The outer skins Adders moult at certain periods ; whether annual or no is not yet discovered ; they are very common on lands infested by those reptiles.
Adder Stangs. — The peasantry in general think, that the tongue of the viper is its sting ; as it comes nearer to their idea of a sting, from its similitude to that of insects ; but it is two large projecting teeth in the upper jaw which do the devilry-, called fangs ; they are rooted in bags of poison, and when the serpent strikes them into any thing, they are pushed back on the same bags, which squeezes the venom out of the valves, to flow down the conducting teeth into the wound ; though this be all
lo ADD AIR
known to some, many argue in favour of the tongue ; that it has witters on it like d^fishhuiky and as blue as the main spring d a watch,
Adist. — The opposite of ayout. The one is on the nearest side of any thing, the other the reverse. An old riddle respecting the nettU runs this way —
** Heg Beg adist the dyke — and Heg Beg ayout the dyke — " Gif ye touch H^ Beg — Heg Beg — will gar ye byke."
Aggie, — A name for Agnes.
Aglee. — Not direct, off at a side ; when the target is missed at shootings by a marksman, he is said to have shot aglee. Those, too, who follow what nature never intended them to follow, are said to guide the genius Aglee,
Ahin — Behind. The same with Ahint.
AiKS o' KiRKCONNEL. — A celebrated haunt for the fox in Galloway.
AiN — Own. Ainselly ownself.
Air — Oar. Also for, early.
Airnin' Claise. — The art of smoothing clothes with a warm iron.
Airns o' a Pleuch. — Those implements of iron which belong to a plough, and which have to be repaired frequently at smiddies during the ploughing season. What a conse- quence ploughmen assume sometimes when they meet at forges — giving directions to Vulcan how they want their aims set — how the couter must hang to the sock — how the beam and head agree — if land be scanty or plenty, and what not — to plough as ein as a die — and put a skin on the furr as sleek as a salmon,
AiRT — To encourage devilry. Thus we say of those who puff up others to fight, that they are airters of the savage broil ; the word is never used in the other sense — to incite to laudable actions — we never hear of any airted on to read the
AIR ALI II
bible for instance — but boys are said to airt on tykes to collt€shangU ilk ithtr. This word airt is no way connected, in my opinion, with the other airt^ wWch refers to the compass.
Airt o* the Clicky. — When a pilgrim at any time gets bewildered, he poises his staff perpendicular on the way, then leaves it to itself, and on whatever direction it falls, that he pursues; and this little trait of superstition is termed the Airt d tJie Clicky — the direction of the staff. And townsmen, when they mean to take a trip into the country for pleasure, and are quite careless to what part of it they wend their way, this they decide sometimes in the same way — the fallen stick determines the course to be pursued; and often as much amusement is found this way, as if the chart had been pricked out But there are few buridan asses which will starve between bundles of hay, not knowing which to turn to — so those generally, who seek direction from the staff, mostly cause it to gravi- tate toward the place they have a secret inclination to go to. As in the auld sang of " Jock Bumie " —
Ein on en' he pais'd his rung, then
Watch'd the airt its head did fa', Whilk was east he lap and sung then,
For there is dear bade — Meg Macraw.
AiRTS o* THE Lift. — ^The points of the compass.
AiSLERWARK. — Masonic work, with hewn stones.
AiZLETEETH. — ^Thc doublc teeth — the grinders.
Aleck — Alexander, the man's name, the same with Sawnders, Sawny, &c
Alicreesh — Spanish licorice, made of the refuse of sugar. Is made up in black rolls, about a foot in length, and sold in the grocers' shops; it is much used in breweries; by people troubled with the cough, and by those who have been in the habit of chewing tobacco. This singular term I have given for it, as used by the greater part of
12 ALL ALL
the natives of Scotland, comes from the ancient word ali^ a compound, and crees/i, grease. Rustic lovers tell other whiles, that they are as sweet as Alicreesh. In truth, lovers are oft at a loss to find sweet enough comparisons for their darlings : a fellow once would write a letter to the dictation of a lover, and asking, " what he'd break off with," the poor wretch, with the burning heart, replied — " Say first, * Tam ' — and in big letters — * My dearest^ dearest HainiesuckieJ^
Allan-Hawks — A sea-fowl with very small wings, common to be met with on the shores of Britain; its colour is black, all but on the breast, there it is white. I wonder how Edwards, Willoughby, and others, who have treated of British Birds, have missed this one in their ornithologies. It is similar to the puffin in size, but it cannot fly ; often after storms they are found driven in dead upon shores; whether it is that the storms so agitate the deep, that they deprive them of food, and so they famish amid the waves, or whether by diving on surfy shores they are dashed against the rocks, is not yet known ; nor can it be conjec- tured how they come to have the name of Allan-Hawks.
Allan Kinnigham, the poet — Allan Cunningham, Esq., one of the truest poets, and best of men, Scotland has ever given birth to. He was born and bred in Nithsdale, but the greater part of his father's family are Gallovidians, and lived long near the village of Kilpatrick. His father was gifted with the rare talent of a poet too, to a certain degree, and wrote many good little things for a magazine, which was published in Dumfries about sixty years ago, by Jackson, printer there; he was an East Lothian man, but the ancestors of the family are found to have belonged to that third division of Ayrshire called Cunningham ; they had been there honest millers time out of mind, but took up arms in defence of their dear country when Oliver
ALL ALL 13
Cromwell invaded Scotland. The worthy subject of my present little sketch, began to show symptoms of the poet very early in life ; he became extremely fond of books, and listened always with a greedy ear to the tales of other days; and the singing of wild ancient ballads, the feeling old cronoch of these thrilled with extacy through his heart ; while the charming rural scenery on the banks of the Nith quickened the whole, and winged the ima- gination for soaring high in the poetic firmament. As to receiving education at school, that was as scanty with him as it ever was with either Burns or the Ettrick Shepherd. To men of strong genius, a school is not worth a farthing, a school rather does them more harm than good, unless the domiitic allows them to learn whatever they please according to their taste ; but the moment they are obliged to alter their course, from that time they are not a guiding a right. For all, where find we a better scholar than Bums, or one to match Cunningham ; the memories of such men let nothing slip they have once grasped, and they know more of a book by giving it a careless glance, than others do by reading it three times through with double milled specks on their noses.
Until our bard came to be about fifteen years of age he wrote not on paper any of his little tender aspirations, but from this time he began now and then to try his hand, and a happy sight to him was a few verses in the corner of a Dumfries newspaper; he even went so far as to try to have an insertion in a London Magazine ; while thus the days of his boyhood glided away in song making, and labouring at his trade of a mason, Mr. Robert Cromek came into Galloway a legend gathering, and having soon found out our wonderful young bard, they wandered to- gether through all the fairy haunts and warlock glens of the country ; and having obtained a wallet-full of very strange matter, Cromek set off with the bag and the nails to London. Mr. Cunningham was invited to follow, and
14 ALL ALL
aid the publication of the work, which was the " Nithsdale and Galloway song ; " the whole of which almost is the work of our poet; and there he truly shines a poet indeed. What a quantity of pure poetry is in that book. The Mermaid d Galloway — The Lord's Marie — Sh^s gatu to dwallin Heaven — The Lass d Preston Mill — My ain Coun- tries and many other songs in it, are perfectly exquisite, the ancient-like mould in which they are cast, their strong originality and feeling natural touches — charm every Scotch mind, while the gentle melancholy that tinges them all, finishes them off in a manner so beautiful, that when we read them we neither think ourselves nor this earth, such gross things as they be, but we have entered, or about to enter, some kind of elysium. After the publication of that book, in which he shines so gloriously, he became a constant writer in a London newspaper; but something going wrong in the management of this paper, he laid down his pen like a true philosopher, and stood by his trade of the hammer. But a man of great merit, honesty, and industry, will be taken by the hand, so our bard received a situation under the celebrated sculptor, Mr. Chantry ; and this situation he yet holds, beloved by his master and by all who have the pleasure of knowing him. For Mr. Cunningham is not only a poet and an enthusiast about poets and poetry, of the very first kind, but he is also a man extremely cheerful in society, kind every where, and liberal to the last degree; he is one of those few men who conduct themselves in such a manner that we do not see any of their faults; he is open and free, hides nothing, dashes on — a Scotchman every inch ; we see Caledonia in him; in every look, in every move, he makes : he gives his native language its truest swing ; the words flow from him with the greatest ease, and with a manly pith. Sometime ago Blackwood, the Edinburgh bookseller, would have him to become a writer to his
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magazine ; he did so, and produced therein " Mark Mac- crabbin, the Cameronian," a Very able and singular pro- duction; but some misunderstanding taking place between that bookseller and him, he withdrew his valuable pen, and wrote for a London magazine; the articles inserted there he has since taken out and published in two volumes, the tales of which are very wild, poetical and original.
Also lately he has published a drama, named " Sir Mar- maduke Maxwell," full of passion and poetry ; and a wild legend, termed " Richard Faulder ; " these have been highly praised, even the " great unknown " — the Laird of Ab- botsford — hath publicly lauded both them and their author. At present he is preparing two volumes of Scotch Songs for the press ; and as far as I am aware has dipped deeper into the nature and worth of these songs than any writer hath yet done. Cunningham beats up game in a country, different from that of either Burns or Hogg ; he is not such a mannerest as the first, nor such a fairy man as the last ; his melancholy is of a solemn, sombre cast, not like Bums, flaming in the vortex of passion ; nor like Hogg, dancing lightly and wildly round the halos of the moon ; he has a place between them — a place untouched and unpolluted, for such a situation, a religious cast of a rare kind was necessary, and this Mr. Cunningham has in an eminent degree ; it is a poetical religion, felt by some of the covenanters when they assemble on the wild breckany brae^ beneath the blue canopy on a Sabbath morning.
To conclude, though I may add to the biography of him, that he has been married now to a worthy, pleas- ant woman these several years, firom Galloway, and they have a good many hairnies ; that he himself is a strong, hardy man, above six feet in height, swarthy visage, with pleasant features, his eyes and eye-brows bespeak great intellect ; with all men of genius of the day he is intimate, with Sir Walter Scott, Wordsworth, Wilkie, Irving, &c.
1 6 ALL ALL
and that they all are pleased with the friendship of Cunningham.
So, therefore, be my thoughts briefly stated respecting this gifted individual. If I have said anything wrong, I shall be sorry — if I have said too much in his favour, dien I am happy — for to say too much to his praise is a thing impossible; he is a subject that would not disgrace the best, the strongest pen that ever was wielded, and he who thinks I am a flatterer knows nothing of the character of Mactaggart.
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.
Yestreen in Fame's splendid ha'
Was held a festival, Apollo he was in the chair,
Amid his votaries all. When the claith was furl'd, the god he raise
Within his fist a dram, And sang *' A bumper toast," my friends,
*Tis Allan Cunningham.
Dear Allan, thus continued he,
My Allan frae the Nith, He is ray charming bard for sang,
His muse is pangd wi' pith. Whan fancy's flood-gates he unlocks
Forth gushes sic a dam, As carries with it every heart,
Rare Allan Cunningham.
He is na like some I cud name,
W^ha wordy drive alang. And clink awa for clinkings sake
Thout feeling what is sang. Mere Gomeralls, manufactory bards.
Their sangs are all a sham. They want the touch — the thrill — the glow,
O' Allan Cunningham.
Bards maun be bred in rural world,
There they maun be the child. There wade in bums, and clamber hills.
And listen stories wild. See nature in a million fonns.
While she their noddles cram. With what will burst upon a day
Like Allan Cunningham.
ALL ALL 17
Ay they maun doze on sunny braes,
And happy dream awa. Ay likewise ken what winter is,
And his fell blasts o' sna ; While through the curious warle o* man.
They dance about ram-stam. And queer poetic secrets gain,
Like Allan Cunningham.
And there's a jade that bards maun ken,
Ay be acquainted deep. Her name it Melancholy is,
She baith can laugh and weep ; Can clean owreset the senses a.
She flings them in a dwam. Her potent arm is brawly kend,
By Allan Cunningham.
My heart was hurt wi* Scotlan's wae.
About the loss o* Bums, For wha cud stap their lugs ava.
Whan sic a nation mourns ; I order'd Scotia's Genius then,
To forward bring her caum, Sae in her mint she tniely cast
My Allan Cunningham.
Apollo ended, and the shouts
Of joy that sounded there, Tremendous were, the hall it shook
With bravo ! every where ; Then music rang, and seas of wine
The glorious party swam, And oft again the toast went round,
To Allan Cunningham.
Allicomgreenzie. — A little amusing game played by young girls at country schools. They form themselves into a circle, faces towards the centre ; one goes round on the outside with a cap, saying, while so doing —
" I got a letter from my love,
** And by the way I drop'd it — I drop*d it."
Then she lets the cap fall behind some one, the which seeing, takes it up and runs after the other in order to catch her; but she eludes her as well as possible, by crossing the circle frequently, and the follower must ex- actly follow her steps; if she fails doing this, she must stop, and stand in the circle, face out all the game after-
B
i8 ALL AND
wards ; if she succeed in catching the one, the one caught must so stand, and the other take up the cap and go round as before.
Allicompain. — Enula Campana, the medical plant; the Elecampain of materia medica ; truely the root is a useful thing in medicine, but my famous " Yirbwives " which shall afterwards be spoken of, think it an antidote almost against every distemper that inflicts either body or mind; so it is common in many rural gardens ; beside it, is generally set a sun-dial, and the rustics are often seen wondering at the two wonders, a thing poetic to see. I have heard two verses of an old song on this herb —
ALLICOMPAIN.
0 ! my pow again is free frae pain,
1 am like mysell again, For twall hours I hae lain
Upon my Allicompain O !
Whan howstin made me unco* sair, Whan my poor breast wad rack and rair, I drank the broe — it haled me fair,
The broe o' Allicompain O !
Allomtree. — The elm tree. The juice of the bark of this tree is extracted by boiling it, and applied to sprained limbs.
Amaist. — ^Almost.
Amang Hans — Amongst hands. Little jobs are sometimes done amang hans ; that is to say, they are done without, in any shape retarding the large job.
Amaton. — ^A thin boney person — an automaton.
'An — Used frequently for t/ian — then.
An — a. "I'll lae thee Jean for gude and a" — means, "Til leave thee Jean for good and all."
Anes-erran — One errand, for the one purpose. I came to see ye anes-erran; means, I had no other errand than to come and see you.
Andie — The man's name Andrew.
AN^R AN'R 19
An'ro Gemmle — I cannot say, neither can I find any who can, whether this famous Andrew, this notable mendicant, or Gabcrluftzie-man, was a native of any of the parishes of the South or no ; be that as it may, however, sure it is, that he made them one of his favorite begging tracks, and was generally to be found in some " neuk o* Gallowa or anither."
He was a strong tail Carie, and had served in the army in the capacity of a dragoon ; he was always called " The King of the Beggars," as well he might, for he not only begged himself, but had numbers of beggar wives who ran the country and begged for him; he supplied them with "mealpowks," appointing always on Monday morn- ings, when they "broke off" the "howf," they should meet at next Saturday night, and she who brought him the most meal, became his favourite sultanna for that time, turning off those who made small returns, and taking the PoTvks from them.
He was of a " crazed nature^' like every old soldier who hath seen much blood, and when any little thing curled his temper, he became a madman complete ; he boasted of his prowess at the fireside game of " danis^^ alias drafts^ and whenever his antagonist was like to be too deep for him, he took the ^^ men^' of the ^^ brod'^ and dashed them in the fire with a vengeance. He was very fond too of playing off little jaix d'esprits of his own formation. Once, as a priest was going to his church on the Sabbath day to hold forth, he espied An'ro on the road a little before him, seemingly in the most profound meditation, pondering deeply with " leaden eye that loves the ground," something lying in the way, and stepping seriously round it The clergyman came up, and seeing the object of his wondrous gaze, said, "Well, An'ro, what's this that seems to be puzzling you so ? for my part I see nothing but a horse-shoe on the road." " Dear me, returned the Gaber-
20 AXK ARK
lunzie, with uplifted hands, what disna that lair do, I hae glo^Td at that shoe now the best part o' hauf an hour, and deil take me gif I cud say whether it was a horse-shoe or a mare-shoe/* This is Walter Scott's — Eddie Ochiltree — only he was not a " Bluegown."
Anklet — The ankle.
Anordinar — Extraordinar)'.
Anton — Name for the man's name Antonv.
Antrum — The name in some parts of the country for that repast taken in the evening called four /loms, anciently termed eenshattks. This Antrum comes from the old French, a den or cave, now Antrum time is den time, then some animals go to their dens; the sun also is said to sink to his den or cave. Glass, in one of his £ongs, has lovers going out at Antrum time to court, and so forth.
Anving or Ananving — Owing.
Apen Quevs — Young cows ; those who have not had calves.
Aplochs — Remnants of any thing. Some few years ago a field of com could not be shorn, nor a meadow mowed, without parts of them being left in corners uncut, these were called Aplochs ; they were left for the benefit of the warlock race, so as to keep their favour, but farmers have long ago defied all beings of the sort to do their worst ; Aplochs now are vanished away.
Appetie — Appetite. Appetezed, having an appetite.
Ardwell — A ridge of rocks lying between two that are larger.
Ark o' the Cluds — or Noah's Ark. The various forms the clouds assume in different seasons, are very attractive to the eye of man ; that one mentioned in scripture, which rose out of the sea like a man's hand, soon changed its shape. The famous Dean Swift thought he would be a clever fellow if he could tell what shape a cloud would
ARK ARK 21
be in when it set in the east, by seeing it rise in the west; ere they cross the canopy of heaven, they fling themselves into numberless figures, whiles they are one thing whiles another, and whiles " very like a whale," as Shakespeare says. But there is no conglomeration of the clouds, no figure they assume and hold by longer without changing, than this called the ark^ or Noah's arky a description of its appearance I shall attempt to give. In the winter season (for the ark is not common in any other), when the sky is clear and weather frosty, curious light grey clouds in the shape of ribs will oft arise from a point in the horizon, and stretch over the sky to its opposite on the other side ; these cloudy ribs narrow in bulk towards the horizon, and are at the widest right over our heads, or in the zenith. " If great things can be compared to small," as Milton says, I would liken this figure of the clouds to the half of a cocoa-nut shell split lengthways, or a Non^'ay yawl, in this form will it appear for a day together, and even longer ; what is singular too we have no half arksy the one half never sinks beneath the horizon and leaves the other half above ; we have the scene always in perfection, or we have it not at all ; we have it as if it was calculated to appear in our latitude and longitude, and in no nations else ; for it begins to form, comes to perfec- tion, and vanishes away, all in our canopy; we may therefore say there are arks for every country.
When seen in frosty weather, as it generally is, ivathenvise fowk prognosticate a thaw instantly, attended wi* an auffu spaUy to the gnawing grief of the keen veteran curler, who cries out yonders the cttrse that draiuns the chariiestane, and cuts the head and feet frac bonspiels. To be short, the ark is a great thaw sign, and brings commonly with it enough of water. It is from its appearing somewhat in the form of a boat, and from its being attended by a deluge, that it has been termed the ark.
22 ARS ATE
Arset — Backwards. Inclining to go astern ; the way of a swine.
Arslins — The same as above.
AscHET. — The king of the trencher tribe. Some time ago they were made of pewter, a mixture metal of lead and tin, and took the lead as they do yet of all the other plates on the dresser, and stood on the loftiest skelf like so many shields. Ashets seem to have been the first things of lame ware, alias porcelain, that have been made, as about old camps, castles, &c., pieces of them are frequently dug up, and nothing else of earthen ware, if we except urns ; and these specimens seem to say the ashds have been stamped and highly ornamented.
Asks — Newts. Animals of the lizard species, they are always considered to have poison somewhere about their hinnerliths,
AsKLENT — Aslant Out at a side.
Ass — ^Ashes.
AssBACKET — Ashbucket.
Ata'— At all.
Ateen — at evening. At night.
Aten out o' Ply. — Some animals are said to be aten out d ply when they are extremely lean in flesh, although they have been taking a great deal of food. Thus few gour- mands are very fat, they eat themselves out of ply ; that is to say, over-do themselves with eating. Crows in harvest are very light in body, because they have too much food; and in dead of winter, when it is not so, they are fat ; eating much more than enough to satisfy nature is an abominable thing — far rather be a drunkard than a glutton, the latter is the most beastial of the two. To see a person sitting down to dinner, and clearing the table before him, is damnable ; let such brutes be tossed out of the window.
ATE AUL 23
Atestrae— Oatenstraw.
AucHEN — A field, in the Saxon. Thus, auchen flower^ field of flowers.
AucHLATE — An old measure. Two were a peck; one, a stone of meal nearly ; but these may be much more or less according to the craft of the measurer.
AuLD — Old.
AuLD Boy. — A name for the devil; or one with devilish habits is called an Auld Boy,
AuLD EVER MORE IN A PowK. — The wholc of the works of the olden time in a bag; when such would be the case, it is fancied that much stir and commotion would take place in the same bag. So when any one is driving on, and never looking behind, nor to the right or left, it is said he is then going on like Auld ever more in a potvk,
Auld-Farrent. — Cunning beyond years.
Auld Huntsman — A curious Song.
O ! heard ye o* the Auld Huntsman
Wha dec'd upon Bengaim, Tak pity on the Auld Huntsman,
And ay big up his cairn ; For ance a day — we weel may say
A clever cheel was he, Nane was his match, the tod to catch.
In a* the moor countree.
For wha cud rin wi* the Auld Huntsman ?
Wha cud keep up wi' him ? O ! but he had a brisket wide,
And tight in lith and lim ; How he cud scour out owre a moor,
And lae us a' ahin, WhaneVe to blaw — we stood ava.
Than he wad faster rin.
He keep'd ay the dogs in sight,
And airted on the chase, He maistly ay wan in tae death —
The glory o' the race ; While tar awa — a mile or twa.
Us followers wad hae been O'wrecome wi' heat, a' in a sweat,
Yet pechin after keen.
24 AUL AUL
For him todlowrie gat iia rest
In bonny Gallowa, Our geese and gaizlins met na scaith,
Our cocks did crousely era' ; He tous'd the deil roun Criffle-screel,
And owre the Caimsmuirs three, Down heuchs and craigs — and glens and hags.
As fast as he cud flee.
Nae place but Cassleinaddies yird.
Defied the Auld Huntsman, But there slec foxie laugh'd at him.
And scorn *d his deepest plan ; For in that keep fu* soun* he'd sleep,
Tho' terriers roun sud yelp, Ne'er start wad he — to whusk and flee,
And owTe the clints gae skelp.
But age cam on the Auld Huntsman,
His marrow-banes ran dry. The stitches and the rheumatiz,
Wi* pain whiles made him cry ; His tyices wore few, and wama true
Moormen forsook him too. His voice cud no mak hauf a noise
To start the talliehoo.
Than poverty beset him sair,
Wi' his clauts o' cauld aim, Sae his twa staves he taks ae day
And hirples up Bengaim ; He sat him do^^'n, and glower'd roun'
On heach an' laich countrce, Afar awa by Barrlocka,
And south by Barrcheskeo.
Now sigh'd wi' grief the Auld Huntsman,
Than back himsell he'd throw, The merry scenes o' Auld Langsyne
Now brought upon him woe ; His fits, his faints — his sair complaints,
Nae langer cud he dree, Himsell he laid within his plaid,
And wi' a groan did dee.
Neist day the shepherds on the hill.
The Auld Huntsman they foun*, Wi' his auld hat drawn owre his e'en,
Stiff streekit on the grun ; Roun' him the nowt did snuff and rowt.
Sad was the sight to see. His corpse did crave, frae them a grave,
Sae they in mools laid he.
/ f
AUL AUL 25
Gane, gane, then is the Auld Huntsman
To his lang hame he 's gane, He 's buried on Bengaim sae hie.
And on his wyme 's a stane : The tod slee boy may howl wi' joy,
For his fell fae 's awa ; And now and than for the Auld Huntsman
A tear we may let fa\
Auld Millhaw — An old man of the name of Sproat. He lived at a place called Millha, in the parish of Borgue ; and so his name became Auld Millha, He was a great railer against modem manners, and a praiser of the days of his youth. As a specimen of his mind, I give here the " Lamentations o* Auld Millha."
" Dear me, but fourscore years mak an unco odds o' the times, and that's about as lang as I can min' ought now. Mony an up and down in the warl has haen Auld Millha, and there's a queer something comes owre him whan he claps his auld bum down on the mossaik by the cheek o' the chaumer door, and begins to think awee and glowre
back. There's no a human cratur drawing the wun o'
life now that I ken'd in my young days; they're a' i'the mools lang syne ; the last ane wha I min' o' that waded about i'the bums wi me whan a boy, and neiv'd beardocks, was Wullie Coskery, and he's gane to his lang hame aboon hauf a dizzen year sin. Wullie was ay but a pieferin useless body a' the days o' him, and ken'd about little but how to mak beeskeps, and wattle saugh creels — then he wad hae glaiber'd about the splittin o' breers for the hale o' a
lang forenicht i'the wunter time, without wearyin. Wattie
Bennoch was gane afore him. Wattie and me had mony a day o't thegether, but he was ane clever chiel, and as sharp as a preen. We gaed awa ance — it's langsinsyne now — wi a wheen nowt, tae South o' Englan, and as we war gaen by a bit on the road they ca'd (let me think), ay, they ca'd, now when it comes cross me, Templesorby, out came a meikle bill-dog frae a tannaree, and was begin-
26 AUL — AUL
ning to fley our drove, when Wattie drew his gude hazle rung frae neath his coat-tail, and hit him a whap wi't aneath the lug, till goth he gaed heels owre gowdy with- out a bough. But some o* the town-folks gat scent o't, and out they cam bizzin like bees, to ding Wattie and me to the deil. I laid on, and sae did he, till some o* us a* hech'd again. We gat out amang them tho* at last wi sair banes ; but gin we hadna been a pair o' gye Strang rouchtous, we wad hae lain like the thick-nosed collytyke that day.
"Dear me, what an unco alteration there is now — that auld scrunted hawthorn there afore me, adist the dyke whare the flecket pyets charkin on, and me, are about an age, coming fast up or sliding down the figures 9 and the
o. Folk are no now ava as the war langsyne; they're
puir shilpet craturs the best o' them. I hae seen the day I wad hae pulled ony o*m alf their doups at the sweertree. Auld Millha laments to see them. I cud hae shorn ance too man. O ! I cud hae sweeped it down, spread mysell laigh on the rigg, and gaen up the Ian' scrieven. There wama mony i'the days cud hae kemped wi Auld Millha. My theebanes war then like milltimmers, and my fingers like dragtaes. O I I cud hae open'd out an awsome brisket; I was fit for baith sock and sythe ; rid han'd, nae wark cam wrang to me.
" O I for the days again whan I was young. I kenna what the cheels about twenty are gude for now ava ; they want the heart someway athegether ; they canna tak ae dram o* liquor now, without haeing as mony mimins and prieins to gang through as if they war a* born gentry. Langsyne I hae kend Tam Ma'min and me cowpin o\sTe a dizzen bumpers o* Strang Holland gin, rare smuggled stuff, down at the Brighousebay, in the wee while o' a forenicht, and never giein a kink either owret or aftert.
"It's a pity to see them, a pity faith — the warls fast degeneratin ; banes now are as frush as the branches o' an
AUL AUL 27
auld daezd plaintree ; the folk hae nae intiramers, as they were wont to hae, ava.
" Wullawuns and its come to this o^t — Hizzies gaen spangin and flaiperin about wi white muslin frocks on, wha in my younger days wad hae been glad o* a piece hame-made stuff, or drogget, and nae bonnet ava ; whereas they hae bonnets now co'erd wi gumfloors ; and O it was bonny to see the yellow-haird lasses coming happin owTe the kirkstyle on a simmer Sunday, wi that laugh o' luve they gaed in every look. Than they war sae healthy and rosey in thae days by what theyre now. There was never a lass but ane, I think, in my kennin, wha dee'd o' a wastin, and she was ane o* the name o' Tibbie Mitchell, a bastard bairn o' ane Girzy Mitchell's, wha wond in the Tannimaws. (The doctors said it was o* that she dee'd, tho' it was whusherd that it was wi takin owre heavy drinks o' the sap o' the saving- tree — to keep a wee scraichin sinner frae seeing the light o* day.) There was nae tea amang them in thae days — nane o' that vile spoutroch sae meikle sloated owre now-a-days — na, na, we had nae jabblin thing like scaud ava to sipple wi ; but milkporritch, sowings, and sic like glorious belly-timmer — famous swatroch, man ; noble stiveron.
** WTian we pang'd our pechans wi sic like, there war nae asthmas or cruchlins ever heard o' ; we could hae hunted the fox roun Caimhattie, without a turn'd hair being seen on our heads, and putted a stane, fifty pun weight I dare say,
near hauf a mile ; ane wad hae thought . The young
lasses get nae men now sic as the are either, as they gat langsyne ; deil a hizzy, gin she had leuked ony think Hke marryin ava, but wad hae got somebody, or she wan to twenty; but now they gae by thratty, and mony a ane bids fareweel to matrimony, and curses the men athe-
gether, on the borders o' forty. Sad wark, man —
Hoch anee.
28 AUL - AUL
" Hechhowhum, granes auld Millha by the cheek o' the caumer-door ; on the bink o* auld mossaik, and what's gaen to come o* the parish of Borgue ava, my gude auld native parish ; the Browns and the Sproats are a weedin awa ; they hae been a taking gye thrang o*late, to the lane kirk-yard down on the shore.
" A new set o* folk is coming about me athegether now, wha talk about plowin and middinmakin ; gin they be allowed to come in amang us as they hae been, we'll be berried out o' house and ha in a crack, for they say they can afford sic rents for the lairds, and can manage a grun sae and sae. I dinna like them ava : I wuss they wad a gae wa the road they cam — awa by the Dinscore or Mochrum — and fash us douce bodies nae mair i*i* their glaiberin nonsense .
" I hae seen the days whan there war nae carts wi' wheels in a* the parish, nor harrows wi' aim teeth, but carrs and harrows wi* teeth o' whunroots, and yet we did full weel for a' ; had ay rowth to eat and drink and smiok amang o'
the best of things. Them wi' their thrashing machines,
aimpleuchs, and turnipbarrows, mere falderaloes, ripin up a' the bits o' green hoams, and forcing wheat to grow whar Pro- vidence never intended it, and a' for the lairds, the tennant bodies are never a babee the richer o't ; awa wi* yer nice agriculture, yer game laws, and yer Madeira wines — Borgue disna lang for a sight o' them — Howt's no .
** Awa wi* yer readin priest, yer I^tin dominies, yer rooms spread wi' carpets, yer fallow fiels, and yer fenders ; and let me hear a cheel skelpin a sermon affloof, anither leamin the bairns the rule o* three and plain arithmetic ; the bare sleek yird I hae mony a time shook my shanks on — fiels to plow just as my father plow'd, and nae fenders to hinder the aizles frae spangin out, but lads and lasses, bare-fitted and bare-legged, wedged thick roun the bonn)' ingle — .
AUL AUL 29
" Never turn, gentle Borgue, or thou'llt gang a* to the bumwhush ; stick by the creed o' thy forefathers, never laugh at the gude auld law .
" Dear me, but it makes my heart sair — to see things chynged and chyngin sae far frae their ancient wont. There's nae courtin gaen on now amang the bumbraes, the glens, and aneath the soughin hawthorns — na, na — the prim- rose, the bludifinger, and the crawtae grow unsqueez'd and unlooked at ; the mavis and the yellow-nebed blackburd, let them sing now as they will, they are never heard. How*t tow*t, there can be nae meetings now on a snug bam mow to pass a night. Burnies too maun a rin anither gate now frae what natur intended ; lochs too are a* drained — wild-ducks hae nae wallees now to guddle in, ane can hardly get a bit dub for a chaunlestane rink .
" Hech how, there's nae fun ava now amang the fowk ; they're a* grown as serious as our auld minister wont to be at a sacrament ; nae meetings at ithers ingles to sing sangs, and tell divertin tales ; nae boggles now to be seen about Hells'-hole and the Ghaistcraft; nae witchwives about the clench, nor warlocks about the Shellin Hill o' Kirkaners. How't no — what's the folk guid for ; the Dei'l has crossed their een with his club, or else Peggy Little, the gillwife, has broke some charm wi' her rowantree beetle or kirn- staff .
" Fairies and brownies hae fled Borgue athegither now ; even a donsy beggarbody, wi' a snug sheepskin-wallet and pikestaff, is now to be seen. The folk are a drownin themsells in trackpots and teabroe, fiykin wi' cups and saucers and peutrin about nothing ; there's no a chiel worth a doit amang them — but some ane or twa, there be nane worth a tinkler's tip-pence .
** 0» ! for the days again when I brew'd and sell'd yill at the Saughligget ; thae war days, but they're gane now, and Borgue will ne'er see the like o' then: .
30 AUL AUL
" But its foolish in me to lament and fret mysell sae about things ; short maun may be my time o' the warl now ; soon shall I be carried heels foremost out o* that auld biggin, and laid a gude Scotch ell aneath the mools o* the lane kirk-yard ; my family is a' there afore me, a' but ane, and he's awa by the Ingies. O that he was aside me now; what tales wad I no tell him, and sing him scores o* auld sangs, that maun a' sink aneath the sod wi' auld Millha .
" I'll lift tho', and gae wa intae auld chaumer — read a bit o' St Luke's worthy sayings — tak a blaw o' the cuttypipe, and syne hirsle my body into my ain auld warm croovie o' a bed /'
Auld Mill o' Mochrum. — ^There are few men in Scotland who are fond of hearing news and curious things, who have not heard of the Auid mill d Mochrum ; any person who seems to want something obviously, is said to be like this mill, for she has a want also, which art could scarcely supply, which is a back door; now all mills should have a door of this kind, and because she cannot have one is, that her back is built against a blue solid rock. Also this mill is used to fling out the inquisitive ; thus, if a person be met on the road, and asked at " where going," to the ** auld mill d Mochrum " is frequently the reply ; so the auld mill o" Mochrum is used in the west the same as the auld kirk d Dinscore in the east, and makes the forward blush. **Whar do ye live whan ahame," quoth a country- man in the Gallwaygate, Glasgow, to another whom he had just sold an horse, " Ken ye whar the auld kirk d Dinscore is," was the reply — " ay^' returned the other, " wi t/ian^^ said the next. The poor farmer inquired about the said auld kirk till he was wearied out, and satisfied that he had been hoaxed of his horse.
Auld Mortality. — This was a man of the name of Thomas Paterson, and was born and bred, as I am told.
AUL AUL 31
in the parish of Baulmagie, one of our Galloway parishes ; there are living yet many hundreds who personally knew him, of the people of these parts ; he was of this world before my time of marking any thing ; yet I am acquainted with some of his relations, particularly with a lovely young woman, Miss Paterson, his niece ; whether he served a regular apprenticeship to the stone-cutting or carving trade, or took it up at his "own hand," as the saying is, cannot now be known ; but it would seem the latter way is nearest the truth, as he never was very dexterous at the art, his letters are always clumsy and ill-shaped ; frequently too, the words were divided when the margin of the stone in- trudes, and even some of his lines are interlined. The honest " Kintrafowks " are at no loss to tell the " wark o' Tamous Paterson '* from that of another^s, when they meet with it in kirk-yards, whether it is on a ^'Throuch or a head-statuJ^
He was a singular enough character, and well deserving the attention of Sir Walter Scott's mighty genius, and, per- haps, there is not a finer piece of writing, fraught with every thing beautiful and charming, in the many darling volumes written hy that wonderful author, as his description of Auld Mortality, at the beginning of the " Tales of my Landlord ; " the potent penman has given that detail of him a melancholy poetic tinge, which causes the engraver to touch our affec- tions in a twinkling.
Then he has drawn him almost exactly to the truth ; the licence he has used with him is small ; just as he says, he wandered about the country amongst the kirk-yards, with a little white shelty, cleaning and taking a parental charge of the martyrs* stones, viz. those martyrs of the covenant whom Scotland stood by, and saw butchered by a set of lawless and base courtiers, to her eternal disgrace ! wherever he found these stones, whether on wild moors or lonely kirk- yards — the fogg he scoured neatly off them, and renewed their inscriptions with his chisel.
32 AUL AUL
But this engrossed only a small part of his trade, as he plied his tools to all who employed him, stopping at night in any decent farm-house that came in his way, for being of a religious turn of mind, he was made welcome almost every where, and kindly treated by the inmates, more pat- ticularly too by the Hillfowk, for the care he took in pre- serving .the memories of their glorious brethren ; he seldom carried a bag or wallet with him, as the writer of the famous tales says, wherein was his tools for working with ; no, I am firmly told he had rarely, if ever, such a thing ; but an old chisel in his pocket, and for a mallet to strike with, he used a " Whunsiane " for common, picked up about where he intended to work; these stones are yet to be found in burial-grounds, hollowed out a good deal on one side, by striking the head of the carving im- plement; so to be minute — he often would weep when labouring on a martyf s stone, the cause of this may be understood, without it being told And there was a stone in Kirkandros kirk-yard, in the south of the parish of Borgue, and is there yet, which he was often beat with to clean, the inscription so overpowering his feelings by conjuring up before him the following inhuman truth : —
" In the days of that infernal persecution of the innocent and independent covenantors^ taylors had the clothes of both males and females to make among the common folks, there were no mantua-makers concerned with the rural natives in these times, and the women had a fashion of having pieces of lead about different points of their dresses, to make these points gravitate, in what was then considered the ban mode ; so the sons of the * thimble ' were obliged to have always plenty of this metal about them, that they might go on with their trade, and supply their customers:
"One of these taylors fell unfortunately into the hands of a party of Grier o* Laggs men, as he was going to one of his houses to work, and these blood-suckers, finding lead in
AUL AUL 33
the pockets of the poor fellow, they instantly charged him, that he was going to cast bullets with it.
In vain did the lad deny the charge, and still in vain did he implore them to mercy ; then and there they bound a napkin on his eyes, and shot him through the heart. O ! Hell, you contain no villains greater than these !
But let me cling close to my present subject: — Auld Mortality liked a dram by a time, like many another honest man, and often would have come to my grandfather's house at Conchieton, in the gloaming, pretty glorious ; and one night, as he was wandering through Annandale, with his old shelty, he took too much of the " Ovz/wr," which " doiter'd " him, and made him lose his way ; and having wandered on until he and his companion became quite exhausted, he alighted off the back of his faithful comrade, for the last time, and betook himself to a quarry- hole for shelter, and there, with the fatigue and the '*nappie," he fell asleep — no more to awake in this world — for a stormy night of sleet came on, and the cold froze the warm blood in the heart of Auld Mor- tality ; but his memory shall not perish ; it has got a famous heazie already ; and should this unvarnished sketch of mine do any good to it, by way of a test, I shall always feel happy.
Auld Strength. — The strength of an old man.
Auld Strengths. — Those strong places, in the days of yore, where parties of men kept themselves secure from their foes, such as caves, camps, castles, &c. What a number of these are in the south of Scotland, accounts of some of the most astonishing will appear by and by at their proper article.
Auld warl Fairy. — A human being not like this world,
having a strange appearance ; some of the sons of genius
are so called ; when in the country, they haunt out of the
c
34 AUL AVA
way nejiks as auid glens ; they are commonly strangely clad, with long hair and quick eyes.
AuLD Wife. — A man having much the nature of an old wife about him.
AuM — Allum.
Aumbry. — A large oblong press or box, which stands on end in a nook of almost every country kitchen ; it is generally divided into two apartments, a higher and a lower, with a broad folding-door to each ; in the heigh aumbry, as the upper place is called, yJ/z/r/f d bread, or oaten cakes, on their edges, lie closely packed together for daily use, also the nual baste, the feather s^vooper, and such things. In the laigh aumbry, or lower place, bacon, hams, and beef, which have rcestled long enough in the smoke, barley for the broth, wod shears for clipping sheep, fining wod kames, and a variety of other articles, remain huddled together.
Auntie — Aunt.
AuRR — ^The mark of a scar.
AuRRiE o' Kirks. — That space or area down the middle of churches, between the rows of seats; country people pay great attention to the manner in which strangers walk up and down the aiirrie,
AusTRAN Carle — An old man of an austere manner.
Aux — Ask ; incjuire, &c.
AvA — At all.
Aval. — When an animal lies down upon its back, in such a manner that it cannot bring its feet to bear up its body, so as to rise again, we say, that animal is m^ai. Ewes with lamb are often in this state, and must be set on their feet by the shepherd's aid, if not, they soon be- come a prey to the corbies and hoodycraws. In an old Poem on Corbcs , this verse appears —
AVA AYO 35
Whane'er they fin a ewe fac'n aval, Ilcr trolly bags they do unravel, The hootlycraws and them will caval,
I And worry owre her ;
The e'en out o' her pow they'll naval.
And sae devour her.
Men, too, whose affairs run wrong, when they cannot help themselves, but by the help of man, are said to have fdeu aval. There is a line in a Poem which hits lawyers amongst the unfortunate —
•* Tho' they croak owre us, as owre avald sheep."
Aval Lan. — Land which has once been broken up by the plough ; land, as it were, laid down to be cropped ; this word aval^ as applied to land, seems to be quite con- nected with the other.
Aver IN — Talking carelessly.
AwMOUS. — An alms ; charity ; generally the /;/ <f the glide ivife's Iian of oatmeal frae out the four-part dish : old greedy luckies in ill times — used only to cover their knuckles, and so cheat many a icaefii body,
Awn'd — Owned. He never a^vn'd me; he never owned
me ; he never seemed to know me. Awns o* Bear. — The beards of the grain barley ; there
are other kinds of grain which have beards or awns, but
this is the most common.
AwRiGE. — Those little ridges which are made by the plough, and are so laid one by another, that they cover the seed when they are harrowed down on it; it is the angular points, as it were, above the level of a ploughed ridge.
AwsE o* A MiLLWHEEi.. — Those boards fixed on the periphery of a wheel, to receive the water after it leaves the trau'se for the purpose of moving machinery.
AwTEALS. — A small kind of teal, little larger than snipes.
Ayont. — Beyond ; there is a place talked of, called the " back of beyont, where the mare foaled the fiddler."
36 BAA BAC
B.
Baa — A word used in lulling a babe to rest In the old song of Rocking the cradle, " hushie baa babie lye still " is a line much used ; it is a very musical word, baa ; I have heard nurses give it a melancholy cadence, that I have weeped to hear them. Beggar wives with infants at the breast know well the value of the word, and can twang it up on so many mournful keys, that it thrills a good awmous from the hardest heart
Ba — ^A ball, more commonly used for a soft ball than for one hard.
Babie — A babe.
Babiecloots — A babe's clothing.
Babbles — What may be considered foolish nonsense, though they often turn out to be facts, and facts sometimes bab- bles. When we hear of a bonny lassy, or a virtuous lad going astray in the paths of rectitude, we exclaim ha7vts babbles, though we believe in the truth of it at the same time. Babbles may therefore be said to be nonsense, yet admitting of doubts, to be truth.
Babbs — That vile luce or slimy matter a razor scrapes off the face in shaving.
Bach — An ejaculative word, expressive of disgust
Bachles — Old shoes ; also the lumps of snow which adhere to shoes when walking among snow.
Bachruns — Excrement of oxen, dried in the summer sun ; they are used, viz. bachruns, by poor people instead of peats for fuel ; and they even gather them off the autumn green fields for winter's use ; " mony a gude tale is tauld, and mony a cutty is made lunt owre the glead o' a bachrun^^
Back-and-Breested — In that Scottish game at cards called Lent, which is generally played at for money, when one of the gamblers stands, that is to say, will play, and is
BAG BAG 37
lenUd^ which is, outplayed by those who stood and played also ; then, if this happen, and the divide too at the same time, this person is said to be — back and breested,
Backcreels — Baskets made of willows, formed to fit the human back — ere the invention of " wheel-barrows," these were used in cleaning byres, stables, what not
Back-door-trot — The diarrhoea; those with the body in a lax state, are said to have the back-door-trot.
Backen — That space of time between harvest and winter — the back-end of the year as it were — many a farmer leaves pieces of work in spring and the summer, to be done in the backen ; but when that period arrives, they are still left undone, perhaps till the next wanrtime ; thus, bad jobs are put off till the last ; nor do these little procrastinations do much harm for all. Gallovidians love to be contented ; they are naturally so ; they dislike to be pushed and hurried, and to make the warle a^ faught. They are never very rich in money, nor yet very poor ; have enough for the necessaries of life, even in a civilized state ; enough for the back and belly, and something of an overplus whiles to help one another in straits ; so, what more, ye philosophers, I would ask, is a wanting for the enjoyment of this world ?
Backieburd — The bat ; these half mice — half birds, are fond of any thing white. On fine evenings, when they are bickering about, if a white cloth, or a " mutch " be put on the top of a long pole, they will gather round it, and rest themselves in the folds thereof.
Back-lick — A back-blow. Gommonly these blows are the most severe of any.
Back out Owre — Backover.
Back r ans — Backwards.
Backset — A setting-back of any thing, or a something
38 BAG BAI
that retards: thus, wet weather is a "backset" to the farmer in " the hay and harvest time." Backside — One of the many names for the seat of honour.
Backspang — Backspring; men not overly honest, too are said to ** hae mony a backspang about them."
Backstane — A large broad stone, placed behind those good peat fires which bum on hearths, not in grates. Such fires are common in the moor country ; and it is no strange thing to see a wearied " herd," in the winter, taking a sleep sometimes on the backstane^ as that stone is always thick enough to be a seat.
Bad— Did bid.
Bade — Stayed ; did not shift
Bae — The bleat of a fat sheep.
Baggie — A person with a big belly.
Baggrell — A young person, of awkward growth ; big- bellied.
Baillie Days — Those days on which farmers laboured to their lairds, now partly done away with. Bailly days were mentioned in tacks, and so many days of bailly harrowing, so many of baillie peating^ and on so : they were very troublesome days to farmers, and these bailly works, I may add, brought kempin to great perfection, for when the labourers of many farmers met, they be- haved little better with other than when strange herds of oxen meet, goring and frothing about who to have the mastery —
Bains — Bones.
They wha buy beef, buy bancs, And lliey wha buy Ian, buy stanes.
Old Proverb. Bairnies — Children.
Bairntimk— The time a woman takes to breed her fa- mily. Old wives mention always this baimtime with
BAI BAL 39
much reverence; indeed, it is generally the most eventful period of a female's life, not to be entered into rashly by them if they thought much ; but young girls are so fonned by nature, as neither to dread beginning with it, nor to think any thing of it — Give them a dear " man " — then all their woes are at an end.
Bairnsplav — Any kind of game or sport more becoming children to play at, than people grown up.
Baissie, or Baishen — A bason ; a vessel for holding any thing, commonly meal.
Baith — Both.
Bakeboard — A board to bake oatmeal cakes on.
Bakies, or Baked-peats — Peats baked with the hand ; not cut with spades.
Balderdash — Nonsense — foolery.
SIR BALDERDASH.
Some twa*r three thousan* years ago,
Ane bastard-bairn somehow Was got atween a curious pair,
A Gomerall and a Gow.
The bamie like a breckan thrave,
It never took a brash ; *Twas fed on new kimed butter-milk.
And named Balderdash.
The baimie soon became a man
O' meikle fame and cash, For whilk his king did title him
The grand Sir Balderdash.
Amang the ladies then fu' gay
He made an unco flash. And bonny Madam Clashmaclaver
Wan Sir Balderdash.
O I Madam was a blooming wench,
And gabbed night and day ; A tinkler's curNC she did na care
What she did think or say.
40 BAL BAL
Nac hizzic was a match for her
In clauchan or in town ; O ! but she liked weel to gab
A dizzcn fallows down.
Which please<I weel Sir Balderdash, And made him fondly Aether ;
As she gae'd tonmie, and he gae'd tongue. And baitli gae d tongue th^cther.
And, strange to tell, they seldom ere Complained that they war weary ;
He to his bosom aft wad squeeze His sweet enchanting deary.
And saftly whusher in her lug
That he wad never waver ; But love, to this yirth's latest birl.
His charming Clashmaclaver.
And, strange to tell, it never coold.
They ay war pack wi' ither ; E*en to this day they blythly look,
And never seem to wither.
Her cheeks yet blush rosieways. Her breasts seem scarcely wore.
They look fu' fit yet to gie sook To baimies mony a score.
Though mony a Gow and Gomerall, Though mony a Goaf and Glumf,
Though mony a Haverall they hac bred. And mony a famous Sumf.
Sae brave Sir Balder drives about. And looks fu' sj^ruce and trig ;
The de'il a gouty tae has he, Nor belly curving big.
And no a hair upon his pow
Seems yet akin to white ; And a' the tusks ere had his jaws
Can quick as ever bite.
Though nought but twa he ever hatl, Twa gruesome tusks to snack ;
Twa azle fangs — but clean unfit The nits o' sense to crack.
The fashions he o' every age
Doth follow to an inch ; By laws nonsensical he stands,
And frac them wunna flinch.
BAL BAL 41
In Parlimcnt he whiles appxiars. And tells a lang wund story ;
Sometimes he seems to be a Whig, At ither times a Tory.
And whiles he'll try a blunnerboar
\Vi* his queer whup to lash, lie misses him — the cracker hacks,
And nips 8ir Balderdash.
Wi* soldiers he doth seldom ever
Gae to fields to slash, But pesters ay the warl o* saul.
The blockhead Bauldenlash.
Nor yet wi' sailors, mang the seas, Will he gae duck and swash ;
He'd rather loll wi' fiddlers, The mighty Balderdash.
The poets he ca's a' his friends. And they wha deal in rhyme.
He gies a monthly pension to. And suppers mony a time.
And priests wha i* the pulpit rant.
And caper on a tub. At market-crosses, to attract
The ragged hubblebub.
They be his cousin Germans a',
In truth ilk worthy hash In estimation high is held
By big Sir Balderdash.
And baith himsell and the gude wife
Hae written meikle trash ; O ! mcmy a library is pang'd
Wi* her and Balderdash.
For, no a day flees ow're their heads
But volumes they do i>en. And still their plots and stories come
Nae nearer to an en'.
That warl o' fancy they adore
O' subjects ne'er rins out ; That spring, Castalian, whilk they quaff,
Is an eternal spout.
But let us damn or praise them now.
Or let us neither fash ; But leave Sir Wisdom to himsell
To rule Sir Balderdash.
42 BAL BAN
Ballop — The shop door in a man's nether clothing ; the same with " Sparc " (which see).
Bambouzled — Confounded, affronted, treated rudely.
Bamf — A fellow \nth broad feet.
Bamfin — Tossing, tumbling, &c. Auld John M*Clellan, wha*s now awa, Bafmd, in the Solway Frith, many a storm with his shell-wherry, according to his queer ac- count. He wont to be " bamfin aff the heads " wi* Col- lier Briggs whiles, and they under close reefed iapsails. Seldom ever was he out any long voyage with his boat, but the " tvaihcr bruik " on him, or he got back : once going into Ramsay-bay, in the Isle of Man, the ^^ wather bruik'' on him, and " dog a bit " (as he told the story), there came a sea owVe the whurrie's quarters, and sweeped his hat and wig wi't ; sae he had to spread his sea-coat, in the " stem- sheets^' to keep out the sea, while he steered the " whurrie " into Ramsay, wi' a "//r;//V on his pow."
John was an oddity, and told strange tales ; when it hap- pened he was telling one, and any thing made him lose the " thread," he always referred to the wife to set him right again, by inquiring at her, " \\Tiar was I, Meg." Meg knew all his tales, the greater part of which were lies ; but, by his telling them long, he came to think them truths.
John was a celebrated country fiddler in his day, and his tunes are very popular. — The life and character of this being, drawn fully out, would form a diverting book.
Banefires — Bonfires; fires of joy.
Bans'men — Men who bind sheaves, and put those sheaves in " stooks," alias shocks, behind reapers. These men are commonly old steady men, who have seen many a harrest. They gather straws, and keep the boon, in order, when the gude man's back is at any time " turned."
J^an'sters — The same as above.
BAN BAR 43
I3ang — A blow.
I^ANNOCKS — Round thick cakes, ornamented frequently with a hole in the centre : butter is often used in their composition ; but if they can be got " haurnd^'' toasted on a " ke/pkiiij' when the kelp is in fusion, then they have no need of butter. For more particulars, see the article — Miilbannock,
Banton-cocks — A small species of cock, yet full of spirit; some say they are good fighters. An Irishman's opinion on them once was, that he did not doubt '* but that there was as much game in Banton-cocks as there was in the Carrik- smokerSy^ the first brood for the pit in his country. Little men, fond of fighting, are too termed Banton-cocks,
Baps — Little rolls of loaf-bread.
Barefit — Barefoot ; schoolboys, particularly in the coun- try, strip off shoes and stockings, " whanere the harrows b^n to trot,'* and put them not on again, till the hinharrest iitfu ; indeed, many of them are so hardy, as not to shod their feet the year round. I have seen them slide on ice barefit, and wade through snow to the knees ; and I have followed their example for fun whiles myself, and found it not so cold as fancied : also, I have run barefit with them through " Rossen's o' Whuns, after burds."
Bar for Bar — The game of rhyme ; Gallovidians are so fond of clink, that they have a game with it, and a strange one it is truely, when thought of : two or three, and some- times more, amuse themselves with it, to dinnle aiva the thniy as they say. One of the players invents a line, the next that follows must give one to clink to it, and have a little sense also ; a third follows, and on so : those who can hold out longest, and clink best, gain the game, and are allowed by all for that heat to have most of the poet in their composition.
44 BAR BAR
Although, like Hudibras —
They who write in rhyme, still make The one verse for the other's sake : For, one for sense, and one for rhyme, They think sufficient for a time.
I may give a specimen of the game, as played by three players —
The first O, Tam, I dearly lo'e a lass ;
second Is she a maid that has the brass ?
third Or is she o' the bonny class ?
first Weel, Jock, yc're but a cuddy ass,
second And what's Tam but a stinking mass ;
third His sweetheart's breath smells worse than gass.
first Why, Jock and you are just like glass,
second Through us, ye think, the light doth pass,
third And that we're fit to feed on grass.
first Twa fools ye be, alas ! alas !
second But thou'rt a fool as such ne'er was,
third And has a voice like music's bass.
So the third becomes the winner, and puts an end to the balderdash.
Barkend wf Dirt. — Stiff with dirt; this from ship's sails, being sometimes " barkend red " in tan-pits, with the juice of oak-bark, to make them endure longer.
Barley — Parley ; to treat, to have peace for a moment. This word is much used in rural games ; " a barley " is often cried for the sake of momentary relief.
Barliefetterer — An implement of many edges used for taking the beard off the grain barley.
Barliehood — When one is angry, it is said to have on the barliehood.
Barm — Yeast ; the froth which works ale. Yeast from malt- ale will not only work malt-ale, but all other ales ; whereas, the barm from '' bra^-ivort'' and '' trikhyiir is useless.
BAR BAR 45
Barmwhun — A thick close branch of a whin, whereon barm is laid by thrifty gudtiuives^ and hung carefully upon some nag : there will it keep good long, and answer for brewing with.
Rarniewater — What a number of original characters has this Galloway, at one time and another bred ; it is a per- fect nest for them, not two of the country folks being found any way similar to other ; nature so sports herself in the formation of them, that she moulds no pair alike. In towns she casts thousands with one " caum^' but in a wild rural country, she uses a new caum at ever)' cast, and what rude grotesque creatures she whiles will produce : one of these, to an eminent degree, was Barnitiuaier.
He was of the name of Livingston, but was always named Barniewater, from a moor-farm, in the parish of Girthon, which he many a day was the tenant of It was there where he made a considerable sum of money, and first presented his originality to the world. With this cash he purchased a little estate of the name of Grobdale, not fiir from the famous fountain of Lochenbrack, and there he died, a few years ago, a very old man. His hair hung down his back as white as a " lintstraik^^ and his eyes looked out from beneath his hat, in that sly shrewd manner which bespeaks no common intellect. — He was naturally very fond of money, so that some went the length to say, " his greed made him lift mair than his ain whiles." I am in- clined to doubt this — for it is always the case when a per- son gets rich in a i)lace where no others can, that he is branded with the epithet of being dishonest ; now, it is true that Barnitivater scraped a good deal of cash out of one of the most barren sterile places that can well be fan- cied— where only rocks, moss-hags, dints, garries, gall, and heather were to be seen — in a place where no animal of farm-stock kind could live ; even the goat had much ado to exist on it in the heart of summer ; yet, for all, what
46 BAR BAR
will industry and care not overcome. WTien he went to a market or fair, for instance, he eluded those roads whereon were fixed toll-bars — he paid for no whisky — he was at no expence — he was always plotting the best method of evad- ing it ; so saved much in this little way, which many others
did not .
In coming to Kirkcudbright, he was always pestered with the Tongueland toll-bar, in his way ; but he left his horse before he came through it, and walked on foot to the town and Ixick, though a walk of four miles, to save two-pence — and this he did to the last of his days ; old age could not alter his rigid economy. To behold him, mounted on his old shelty, was truly a laughable scene, the animal being always so lean — a perfect " rickle S banes,'^ and the saddle a goat-skin, by way of ^^si/ggan" with stirrups worn to mere skeletons in their way .
Before he got a wife, he rummaged the whole country in order to find one : wherever he heard of a woman being in the matrimonial market, there was he, and there did he treat with themselves or their parents about striking a bar- gain, as if they had been brute animals. Love was never felt nor spoke about — he would have said, " that he had the farm of Barniewater — his name was Livingston — ablins^ they had heard o* him — he had a gude deal o' sillar, sax or aught score o* gates and about as mony black-faced sheep, and of course he expected that the wife wad bring him something equivalent."
Thus went he on for a long time, and all the girls of Gal- loway became acquainted with him, yet he found few will- ing to treat with him about a match : at length, he brought one so near the point of closing, that he would allow her five minutes to make up her mind whether she should
have him for a husband or not. The short space of five
minutes soon fled, and she agreed to wed Baniieioater ; she brought him something like an ecjuivalency too, and
BAR BAR 47
a ^^ sonsy'' daughter, as a ^^ iuckpenny^'' in a short time after — ,
This daughter, being bred in a wild moorland region, where few of her kind she ever met with, except her strange pjarents, the lassie became extremely wild, ran like a hare, and hid, if she had seen any human being approach the
house .
Her father was prevailed on by some person to send her to a boarding-school awhile, to get some education; he took her to Dumfries, for. that purpose, and had much ado in leaving her behind him : she clung by his coat-tails, and ^^scraich'd'' out as if she had been a creature from the shores of Nootka Sound, or some such out-of-the-way place, and at night she set up a horrible howling. Next morning, betimes, she took to her " scrapers,'' as the Irish phrase it, and skelped home in a crack, on the " light side
of her foot," to Barniciuater .
She was troubled no more with a boarding-school, or indeed any other kind of school but that of nature, and has turned out to be one of the cleverest females, both in mind ^nd body, as is in the country : she could ride the wildest joung horse that ever " lap " bare-backed, with nothing on its head but a " cincfd hair halter ; " this she would do not ''^saddle to side," as women ride, but "/<^ on every," as the men do : and for working amongst sheep, there was not a herd so good in her neighbourhood ; she would have brought the goats off Cairnsmoor too in grand stile, run- ning up and do^Ti precipices as quick as them. But
whether she ''^ gather d ivide" as many thought her father did, it becomes not me to say. I have taken her father's part, that he was not in reality such a person as was sus- pected, and I shall stand by it, though report is flat against mc, that the mark he knew his flocks by, was the mark of ^^ rounsto7C'ing," that is, cutting off the cars altogether — that he flung his marches open to his neighbour's sheep.
48 BAR BAR
and when they came upon his land, he ''^ rounstou^d^' their ears, which was doing away with all other marks, and so
getting them to become his property . This character
made him be disliked by his neighbours, and there were often serious broils between him and them. One of these affairs, with a farmer of the name of Clark, came before a court of justice, and can be found told at great length, in the Dumfries newspapers of that time : the law went against Bamiewaier^ and he and his wife were put in gaol some time about it .
And my opinion is, that he was badly used in that con- cern. The affray took place on a Sunday afternoon, to be sure, which was not a right thing : but this Clark met him and his wife, taking a walk on that day, and insulted them with tales of " rounstonnng,^^ which, no one could say was actually true, which stuff roused Barni^s wrath, and he and the wife gave the insolent fellow a laughable drub- bing .
Barnicivater was a creature of patience, perseverance, and good nature ; he never keep'd company with those whom he termed ^^debush'd curses ^^ but sober plodding souls, like himself, were his favourites. He had a custom, as all moor-farmers have, of throwing the bones they pick, over one of their shoulders to their dogs in waiting : he was taking his dinner somewhere, and behind him on the wall hang a looking-glass ; he threw a bone smack over his shoulder, which sent the mirror to pieces. To pay the damages, pleased him ill, but he had to cash out, much against the inclination .
Such was a very rare being — was one wTiting a novel he could be done some justice to ; whereas, in short sketches of this kind, it is difficult to lay him so before strangers, that they may behold him as he was. 1 o know a person well, one must hear him often speak — know how his pulse beats on various occasions — and so get glimpses.
BAR BAS 49
as it were, of the interior of the bosom — with some know- ledge of what goes on in the pericranium.
!Barnman's-jig — This is a dance which those persons have who thrash with the flail. The swoople on the end of the hand-staff being whirled round on the barn-floor by the hamman ; every wheel he gives it, he leaps over it, and so produces a very singular dance, worth walking a mile to see, yet few of the barriers who do this dance in style, are willing to perform before spectators. The girl who kaves the corn is the only one for common who is gratified with the sight. I once insisted on an Irishman, whom I was told was good at it, to let me see ; but all I could insist availing nothing, he got angry, and exclaimed — " Hoch, by the frost, don't bother me — I won't give a spring at this time ; you may as well whistle jigs to a mile-stone."
Barried — Thrashed ; as with a flail.
Barries — Flannel belts, for wTapping round the bodies of infants.
^ARROWTRAMS — The side bearers of a hand-barrow.
Barrs — ^Large hills, ridges, &c. What a number of barr-hills there are in Galloway ; these were barriers in the days of jore — ^places of defence — places which divided the power of l>arons.
5a.rr's Cat — Perhaps Macvey, Napier, Brewster, Miller, &:c.
liave not an article in all their encyclopaedias, like this one
in mine, termed Barr^s Cat, It was a very large monster of
Sl bawdronSy that was known about the farm of Barr, in the
jparish of Pennigame, about sixty years ago : it was as large
^ cat as CrumwhulVs Gibb, to be afterwards spoken of:
"•he size of it became proverbial all over the country, and
^very thing larger than it should be, was said to be a rouscr^
like Bart's Cat,
.SH — A blow.
^SHFu' — Backward — modest
50 BAS BAU
Baskwather — Dry withering weather ; the wind, when such prevails, blows out of the east and north-east, jasl as it blew on the Prophet Jonah, when it withered Imis gourd.
Batch — A crew of blackguards, who keep each others compart j.
Batchelors'-buttons — A beautiful red button-shaped flower.
Batt — A blow.
Bati'les o* Strae — Bundles of straw, folded neatly, as it were; into themself. See IVafps.
Baubee — An half-penny.
Baudminnie — An herb having the same qualities as the " Savingtree" which see.
Baudrons — One of the cat's names.
Bauldy — The name Archibald.
Bauldy Corson — AVhat an original character was Bauldy; sometimes called Serjeant Corson ; he was a native of Galloway, and could boast of having not a little high-bom blood in his veins — ^but, as Pope says,
** That ancient, but ignoble bloocl,
** Has creep'd through scoundrels ever since the flood."
For this our hero cared nothing ; in learning and dissipa- tion he passed his youth, and before he was twenty, en- listed into a regiment of militia, called the Bualeughs^ in honour of that worthy Scottish family of Buccleugh. In it he did not long remain as a private, for his genteel address and bewitching manner, soon had him adorned with a sash, and furnished out as a serjeant ; such a person as Bauldy soon caught the eye of his commander, the Duke, for though not a tall man, his figure as a soldier was great, and his natural talents of the first rate ; he was advanced again to the high post of a recruiting serjeant, and sent with a party of good looking privates, into the towns and country places of Scotland, to enlist the unwary.
BAU BAU 51
And never was there a character better cut out for his station than he, and seldom ever was there need for such characters as he, at that time, when all the continental world growled around us, threatening an invasion every day; he possessed as it were, every property that can be supposed qualifications for the office ; he could give a damn with singular bravado ; he was a blackguard of great grace, and drank whisky after a most enticing manner. The cock of every company he was in ; the head-man of every party. At fairs, and other public gatherings, what fascinating speeches and harangues did he not make at the drum-head; those who before had an utter abhorrence of a military life, just leap*d at the bounty ; then he was as good at keeping his recruits, as he was at enlisting them ; when any desertions took place, none were found so capable of ferreting them out as the Serjeant; if he was beat with finding them, they were bid Jareweel to cheerfully; when Bauldy, the sly hound, was let slip on them, the game was almost sure to be caught ; he was often obliged, in this service, to traverse the greater I)art of the three kingdoms. What tales he had about catching those runaways, starting them, perhaps, out of some den in the dark Cannongate of Auld Reekie, then following in view over Berwick-upon-Tweed, and afterwards het fit to London ; or if they had taken the westerly range it was all one to the Serjeant ; he'd cross Stran^goiver ; post after them through Green Erin, and hook them up in the devil's own city, Dublin. But whisky and debauchery fairly taking the upperhand of him, he was obliged to turn tail on the regiment, retired into Galloway, and took to himself a rib. Still, however, his friend the Duke, could not alto- gether lose sight of him, but got a birth for him in the Customs, viz. that of a Tide waiter^ s. While in this situation he played the devil with the smugglers all along the shores of Solway Firth ; he discovered all their dens for secreting contraband goods ; nothing could go beyond his craft ;
52 BAU BAU
he fairly C07ud the gowan, as the saying is. On hearing, once, of the arrival of a smuggling lugger at Port Mary, away he posted, in order to learn what had become of the cargo, but knowing this not to be altogether an easy matter, he had recourse to the following stratagem.
Having put himself under a garb of disguise, he went nmning with great haste into one of the smuggler's houses, and cried out amongst a bevy of their wives who were as- sembled, "That the hale o' the Corbies o* the Custom- house war within less than a mile o* the Burnfit, and that if they did na set too instantly, and hide every thing better than it was hidden, they wad fin' the haleware in a twink- ling.''
The which intimation created no small stir amongst them, thinking the informant to be one of their well-wishing neigh- bours ; to better hiding they went, and Bauldy stripped the coat and seemed to work the throngest But no one appear- ing to alarm, they concluded that the person who raised it, must have been mistaken, so they returned to their houses, satisfied that this was the case.
The Achan of the camp, however, slunk away firom them, and returned next day with a party, seized the whole, to the utter astonishment of the smugglers in that quarter.
Still, he took spirits to excess, was no very good husband, flashed away a small estate of land he fell heir to, lost his government place, got quite reduced, retired into the country, brought his scholarcraft into action, and taught a small rustic school. Bauldy though was too long in turning the dominie ; his pupils were few, so he was obliged, though sore against his will, to mow and sow com occasionally. After all, he was a fellow of great abilities ; could I look through man with the same eyes that Bauldy used, I should think myself very clever indeed ; he knew the lineage too, of all the families of note in Galloway ; could follow them out like a squirrel along every branch of tlie tree, and over
BAU BAU 53
and above, and double all that ; he had good stories to tell for ever ; good old tales, as many as would fill fifty numbers of any magazine now published ; and then he told them, in a dialect of which he was a complete master, the Gallovidian ; then he could sing well ; that old song " The Shepherds of Galloway," he could give a twang too, that made it quite charming ; he had numberless barrs and staves of song, but they in general had so many threads of blue inten^'oven in their frame, that I won't insult modesty by giving them. I may, however, note down a few verses of a very singular Poem he used frequently to recite, called " The Soldier's Prayer : "
Frae a* lang marches on rainy days, And frae a' stappages out o' our pays, And frae the washerwoman's bills, on the damned claise,
Gude Lord deliver us.
Frae mountain guard whan the snaw rides deep, And frae standing sentry whan ithers sleep, And frae barrack beds, whar lice and bugs do creej),
Gude Lord deliver us.
Frae a' bridewell cages and blackholes, And officers' canes, wi' their halbert poles. And frae the nine-tail'd cat that opposes our souls,
Gude Lord deliver us.
May a* officers wha make poor men stand, 'I'ied up to the halbert, foot, thigh and hand, Die rotten in the p — x, and afterwards be d — n*d,
Gude Lord deliver us.
The following verse of the old song he sang in fine stile :
Enough o' meal's come in at Leilh,
And herring at the Broomilaw, Cheer up your heart my bonny lass.
There s gear to win, we never saw.
Johnic's Greybreeks, he also could do ample justice to.
Altho' my love's gane far awa,
Whar guns and cannons rattle o', Alas that he should chance to fa'
In some unhandy battle o'. And I'll clout my Tohnie's Greybreeks,
For a' the ill he s dune me yet, And I'll clap a clout aboon a clout.
And see to turn the wun about ; For I hope to see, before I dee,
Our bairns dancing roun' us yet, &c.
54 BAU BAU
After singing, he used to fetch a deep sigh, as if former days had crossed him, as doubtless they often did : then he'd give his exclamation, which always was htchy aweel an hechy and follow it, perhaps, by
Up and waur them a* WuUie,
Up and waur them a\
Up wi' your lang pikestaff.
And ding them down to snaw, WuIIie.
In his dispK)sition was a great deal of good nature and resig- nation ; he had a contented face, and took his meat well to the last ; he had got a circle of friends . about him that he visited, and they fed him, but had the weather been bad, and he not able to get out to see them, he was then ill enough off, as he hoarded up nothing at home.
The worthy family oi Drumore were extremely kind to him, and let him want for nothing they could furnish him with ; he was, perhaps, the best beggar that ever tried the trade, for he always got plenty of food and clothes without asking for them ; and when a kimmeringy a kirseningy a kirn or a weddingy took place within his reach, he was sure to smell it out, for the sake of catching drops of his favorite luxury, whisky ; and about the nrw year time he was often carried home to his cruey on a hand-barrow, just mortal. Tobacco he chew'd to excess, the brew of which ran in a brown rill from either unck d his motiy as if it had been trikle ; he knew well the persons who keep'd the best filled splauhans in his part of the country, and also, wha was best gien d a chow ; nor was he wanting of generosity ; for when any well-wishers filled his spleiichaHy he would present it again to them, to take a chew in return. The news of the country, or the kintra-clashy was well known to Bauldy, and he turned it to his advantage ; all messages were bandied by him from house to house, parties were set, lads and lasses appointed to meet, all through Bauldy. In this respect he much resembled the celebrated Eddy Ochiltree. Children, where-
BAU BAU 55
ever he went, were very fond of him, and hung on by his dickett staff and coat tails. The servant wenches, though were often very much displeased with him, because of his questions, and his opinions of them, he was such an accomplished master of human nature, that he knew exactly what would please, and what not ; these girls would rather have endured any thing, as a banter from Bauldy; his words pierced their very marrow, and made them shake at the centre.
He got very soon acquainted with strangers, and with loungers like himself, he bore the bell — was quick at detect- ing lies — he knew falsehood, he said, by its very unnatural sough ; he never cared much about the servants of any house ; ay, the gude man and the gidde wife were those he warmly inquired after — he had wisdom in this too .
Praising the bairns before the tnither's face — this was too, one of his unfailing plans — saying that " sic a ane had just the bonny een of its mither, for he minded weel what they were like at fairs lang syne — that there was na sic a spangin clever hizzie on a' the kintra-side." Politics and newspapers he was always very fond of: still inquiring at those whom he thought skilled in these matters, how the war was coming on, and how that " fell fallow. Bonny, was skelpin through ? " tlien, if he was told " that there lately had been a great stramash, many towns sacked, many men killed, and so forth," with tobacco-sap, dropping brown from his chin, he'd exclaim, aweei an hech .
He died the other year, in the parish of Kelton, when he was above eighty years of age. The following epitaph on him, was one of my boyish crimes : —
EPITAPH.
Come, gather roun, and laugh or grane, At what is said upon this stane, Bout him aneath't, a famous ane,
Wha's name was Bauldy Corson.
56 BAU BAW
Gude faith, he was a cheel gie rare, Bout fortune no a preen did care, Yet fu* and merrily he did fare,
The jovial Bauldy Corson.
He sang and drank, and damned awa. For virtue cared na much ava, Tell'd tales for fun, that did beat a'—
The happy Bauldy Corson.
Ye wha can tak a bowsan drink. Whan that your purses hae the clink, Upon your brither here come think,
And weep for Bauldy Corson.
Ye wha are unco mim i'e mou, Wha at a dram do snuff and grue. Mind he beneath was no like you.
Despise than Bauldy Corson.
And seem to say he*s gane to hell, Amang his friens for ay to dwell, Wha kens but ye a far waur cell.
May get than Bauldy Corson.
What wad ye say, ye holy crew, Wha goodness ay seems to pursue, If he was blessed aboon you't you.
The glorious Bauldy Corson.
Wha little Bible ever read.
Bout preachers ne'er did fash his head.
Nor learned ought but nature's creed.
Enough for Bauldy Corson.
If that his crimes sometimes were great.
His heart did often feel that heat.
Which made it sweet, and heavenward beat.
The queer chiel Bauldy Corson.
But let him sleep nneath the sod. Soon wi' him we'll hae our abode. Than may our sauls flee up to God,
And see auld Bauldy Corson.
Bawks — Jousts, couples, &c. ; beams for holding the roofs ol houses steady.
Bawks o* Lan — Pieces of land the plough misses in ploughing it. " Lae na banks in gude beer lan," is a phrase, meaning, that in telling a story, to dash right onward, and if any thing of an immodest nature seems to be in the way, to stop not for it.
BAW BED 57
Baws.— The calves of the leg.
Bawsent. — Having a white stripe down the face ; applicable chiefly to brute animals. Cows with this mark, or horses, are commonly called " bawsiesT
Bawtie. — ^A fond name for a dog.
Bawxter. — A mighty personage of some kind or other. When it is said of such a one, that he ** beat Bawxter, and Bawxter beat the de*il ; " it places that character high. Methinks this — Bawxter is Baxter, who wrote that well-known religious book, the " Saint's Everlasting Rest ; '* he combats in it, with strong reasons, the devil, and may be said to overcome him whiles, which may have raised the saying, "That Bawxter beat the de'iL"
Beardin the Lasses. — The art men have of rubbing their beards on the cheeks of the girls ; those men who have the stoutest brush are the best bearders ; it does not answer the cheeks of delicate ladies, but country girls are fond of it, as those who can beard must be men — those who cannot, are beardless boys^ with nothing but goarlin hair on their c/ta/ts,
Beardocs. — Small fresh-water fish with beards.
Beasenin. — That fat thick matter which is drawn out of a cow's udder after she calves ; when boiled it becomes excel- lent food.
Beasties. — An aflfectionate name for brute beasts ; also one for vermin.
Bebb. — ^We are said to bebb ourselves with any thing, when we fill ourselves too ftill — the tide when full is said to be bebbinfu — the word comes from bibe^ the Latin and English word.
Beck. — To bow ; to be ceremonious.
Bedalu — A grave-digger; for why, he "beds" us mostly « all."
58 BED BEE
Bedrall. — A person so lame or disordered that he is obliged to remain constantly a-bed.
Bedridden. — We are said to be bedridden when healthy we sleep long in bed, and when we get up are not refreshed ; for we have overdone nature by snoring so long; we have insulted her modesty; we have rode the bed so long, as it were, that the bed has got the upper hand and rode us. Whence the name.
Bedstock. — ^The strong frame of wood which runs along the front of a bed. " Before I lie in your bed, either at stock or wa,'* as the old song says.
The following lines on the bed, wrote by Benserade, a French poet, and translated by Dr. Johnson, I still think good —
In bed we laugh, in bed we cry, In bed we're born, in bed we die, The near approach a bed doth shew Of human bhss, to human woe.
Bee. — A small hoop of either brass or iron, put on the end of sticks to hinder their splitting.
Beek. — To bask ; beeking ; basking.
Beel or BiEL. — A shelter.
Beelins. — Suppurations ; bilious tumours in the flesh. Those reapers who have the bad luck to reap ^* thrisfy corn are troubled very much, poor souls, with " beelin thumbs; ^^prods^^ otherways ; prickles of hawthorn, when ^^ picked out 7vf preens " from their poisoned cells in our hands and feet, whiles, are eaten by the kintra-folk ; for they say, " eating the prod hinners the wound to beelJ^
Beer Awns and Butter. — The beards of beer mixed with butter. When those creatures called ^^ Gian Carlins^^ yfont to meet with any one alone on hallotveen night, they stuffed it with " beer awns and butter ;'' a mixture by no means very agreeable to either the throat or stomach.
»»
»f
BEE BEE 59
Beerbuntlins. — Birds as large as thrushes, and somewhat like them in plumage ; common amongst grain, particularly beer, when growing ; it is from this, and because they are of the buntin species of birds, they have their name ; they are not good flyers ; and they keep their feet hanging when they fly, like young or wounded birds.
Beerfey. — Anciently the best piece of land about a farm. This was the craft, the only place that received a spoonful of manure — the only place where it was thought beer would grow.
Bees in the BRAiN^^^-People, after they have been "fou," feel, as they are returning to their wits again, a bizzing and "singin" in the head, which are called the bees d the brain ; also, when they are getting intoxicated, they feel these fanci- ful insects.
Bees-skeps. — Baskets made of straw and briers, as houses for bees ; when a hive needs one of these mansions, it is rubbed with green leaves and old honey in the inside ; then peeled sticks are put across it to support the combs, and a standard post down the middle. And if this work is done before the hive needs it, the people say, ^^ they'll no need it that year, as bees like nought done a forran*^ Sometimes rascals of bee- men set " toom-skeps " in their gardens, to allure other people's hives into them. Such characters never thrive though on a " kintra-sideJ^
Bee-stanes. — Stones in the form of a sector, to set bee-hives on.
Beet. — To add fuel to a fire ; taken figuratively, to add to what needs little addition.
Beetle. — A wooden implement with a round heavy head ; the pestle of the " kitchen," used for " champing " potatoes and other purposes. Some large farmers have four beetles play- ing away in the " meiklepot^' when cooking food for their reapers, playing away all at once.
Beets o' Lint. — Sheaves of green flax.
6o BEE BEL
Beeyards. — Apiaries for bees. Quarry-holes fronting the south make the best bee-gardens.
Beggar Bodies. — Beggars.
Beggar Plaits. — Cresses in the skirts of garments. Beggars' weeds are frequently plaited this way, from their lying and sitting on them ; hence the name.
Beggar's Bed. — The bed kept in farmers' banis for beggars.
Bexxjar's Owreword. — An old song called the beggar-man's owreword runs this way —
Through the streets o* Auld Reekie a beggar stravaged,
And a merry auld beggar was he, Though his breeks and his plaidy were baith unco raggeil,
He could laugh, he could dance, ay, and relish a spree. When he'd meet wi a gentleman fat and weel bagged.
His honour he'd cr'ae for a single bawbee ; And say, while his hat on his staff he outwagged,
A wee things a help^ as the wran said, IVhan she gaed ance, and piifCd V the sea,
A little and little to meikle soon rises,
Tis the high way to riches we see, To be adding, and adding, our purse soon surprizes,
Tho' the lump at the first be scarce worthy a flee. And this is the way too our reason advises,
If we wad hae wisdom look gleg wi the e'e, A thousan times better than siller the prize is;
So than let us claught it degree by degree ; For a wee things a help, as the reran said,
IVhan she gaed ance, and pished f' )he sea.
Beggar's Staffs. — These staffs are known from all others by their greasy sleekness. Irishmen speak of the juice of a " beggar-man's staflf j" it is likely there is such a thing.
Begnet. — A bayonet.
Begoud. — Began.
Bein. — ^Snug ; warm ; happy, &c,
Beink. — A long form or seat.
Belli ban. — A band of leather or what not, which is made to pass under the bellies of horses, while each end is made
BEL BEN 6 1
fast to the shafts of the cart, to hinder them mounting when the cart is a loading.
Bellibuchts. — Curious hollows in the sides of some hills, not running in the longitude way, as hollows mostly do, but the contrary.
Bell-towlin. — Bell tolling. The ringing of the bell.
As the fool thinks, The bell clinks.
This old snatch has truth in it. Whittington, the cele- brated man with the cat^ thought the Ix)ndon bells rang his wish ; and so did Bell Allan, At first, hopeful girl ! she thought the bell said.
Ting towlin — Bell Allan,
as a warning for her to listen \ then it sounded respecting her lovers,
" Awa Peter Busby,
** And a' thy kith and kin ; *• I'll follow Robin Fisher
*• Through thick and thin."
Belly-flaucht — Belly-broad. — When any person falls bdly- flaucht^ it means a fall on the broadest part of the belly.
Belly-timmer. — Any kind of very strong food is so termed, as porrage, sowings, brose, &c.,; such plank the kytc^ as it were, with durable timber, or ^^ dag to the ribs^' as the saying is.
Belton. — The third day of May.
Bemmle. — A bad ill-shaped man ; a bad walker.
Ben. — The innermost room of a house.
Be naething the louder. — A common curling phrase. It is used as a direction given to a player — the which is to throw his stone so that it may gently hit another stone, and displace it a little, but not to give it any additional force on that account, more than if he were not to hit it.
62 BEN BEN
He is not to give it prnvder^ and shove all to lochhead of desolation, but simply to hrak an egg.
Bengairn. — A lofty mountain in Galloway. There is little remarkable about it It was one of the stations of the trigonometrical surveyors ; and from its top on a clear day three or four kingdoms may whiles be seen, if we consider the Isle of Man as one. It is about three thousand feet above the level of the sea,
Benjie. — The name for Benjamin. — Two lovers, Benjie and Phemie, figure in a song. It may here be given by the way.
PHEMIE AND BENJIE.
Ay just awa's ye cam' Benjie,
Straught out owre the hill ; For never will thy clavers, Benjie,
Through my heart gae thrill. Whan I was poor, ye bar'd ye*r door,
And didna care for me ; Now fain ye wad — Benjie lad,
I canna suffer thee.
0 dinna tell me sae, Phemie, Ye hae better sense ;
1 lo'ed ye many a day, Phemie,
Or ye gat the pence. Do ye no min* the ball sae fine,
Whar ye did partner me? And the wud sae eay, whar mony a day
I leamcd nits wi thee ?
That's a mere clatters, Benjie,
Ye ne'er lo'ed me ava. Let me dress as I wad, Benjie,
In my best sae braw — My poplin gown, wi* tnmmin' roun'
which sae weel fitted me. Ne'er drew your e'e the least ajec —
I'se no be fash'd wi' thee.
Wi' than I'll just awa, Phemie,
Ein out owre the burn. There try gif I can stay, Phemie,
And nae mair return. Try to forget thy hair o' jet.
And bonny blinkin e'e ; There feci distress for happiness,
Because I ha'e na thee.
BEN BES 63
Feel what ye please there, Benjie,
But ne'er thy fancy crowd \Vi* joys that wives will bring, Benjie,
Wives wha ha*e the gowd. Gae af thy wa's, and herd the craws :
Thou'rt far frae being slee, Wha ken's but yet, that I may get
Nae better lad than thee.
What's this ye tell to me, Phemie ?
I'm na up to this. — O tell me't owre again, Phemie —
Tell me wi' a kiss.
0 what is this ! O what is bliss ! How kine thou art to me !
Now — now — ye tell, ye lo'e mysell As dear as I lo'e thee.
And wha cud lo'e thee ill, Benjie ? That was never me !
1 onlly meand to try ye, Benjie — Now thy heart I see.
Whan I was low thou wert my Joe,
Aneath the greenwud tree : Now I shall share Fortune's fare,
My Benjie dear, wi' thee.
Bennles. — Things dry and brittle, as reed.
Bensle. — A bleak, cold place. A place where the frost wind finds easy admittance. Also a person with a saucy air — as
much thinking that he does not care a d n for the world.
We say, sic afallou* gangs wf a great bensle^ or has on a great bensle, — He passes the poor with a sneer, and capsizes the infirm with a laugh — his bosom is a bleak place, a bensle, — cold unfeeling blasts whistle round his frozen heart.
Bent. — The open fields.
Benty-grass. — Coarse grass, which grows in marshes.
Bessie. — A name for Elizabeth.
Best man. — The male friend a bridegroom selects to attend him through the season of marriage. Commonly this " best man " is considered by the bridegroom his " best crony " when he rambles the country to invite to the wedding. This chief man attends him when he is about to take the hand of the bride in the marriage ceremony. This man stands beside
64 BEU BIG
him, and ungloves the hand. This man, so highly favoured, attends him too at the " kirken "; and, on the whole, is often as happy looking as the bridegroom. Widows choose widows, and sometimes married men, for their ^^best men^' never pitching on any of the unmarried.
Beuk— Book. The Bible.
Beust. — Grass two years old. Having stood through winter, it is withered. Is there a Galloway farmer who does not know what a tuft d beusty grass is ? Not one. And I hope now that all my readers are as knowing, as to that question, as them.
Bevel — Off the perpendicular. A wall made to lean in is said to be beveled so.
Beverage. — The first sweets of any thing. When a young girl gets any piece of new dress, she slyly shows it to her yoe^ who gives her a kiss, which is taking the bn^erage of the article in question. And when he gets any thing, they kiss again, which is giving the beverage. The bridegroom takes the bei^erage of his bride by kissing her the instant the marriage ceremony is over; but if any other person be so nimble as to have a kiss before him, that person gets the beverage.
BiBBLiN. — Weeping and sobbing.
Bicker. — A wooden bowl.
Bickerin. — Making quick motions. One running fast is said to bicker. One fighting fast is also said to bicker^ from such I infer the meaning.
Bide. — Abide.
Big. — Build.
Biggin. — A hut.
BiG-ON. — A term at the game of channelstone, much used by my worthy and social friend Drumnwre. If a stone lies near the cock, and guarded, yet thought to need a
BIL BIL 65
double guard, if not a triple. The order from that side who has /// the stone, is commonly to big-on — to guard away — to " block the ice^ And the command of the other party is mostly, when things are in this situation, to come up UfV a* the powther Vthe horn and waken the guards. Old wary curlers, however, take a different plan. They won't waste stones on the guards. They sail them past the sentinels, nigh wutter length, obtains a Inring, plays on it, and not unfrequently drives out the winner, thought by t'other side to be even almost too secure.
Bill. — The bull — the king of the byre. Black-coloured bulls with " wee-lugs " are those most thought of by Galloway farmers. Black is the favourite colour for cattle over all the country.
BiLLHiPPiE. — An ox with bull-hipps. Such animals please not the squeamish eyes of cattle-dealers. I once heard one of these valuable characters say, that a billhippic was fit to damn a drove.
BiLLHUiK. — An hedge bill.
BiLLiLUE. — See Whillilue.
Bills eag. — An old bull castrated.
BiLLATORY. — A name for a restless bull.
Billy. — To make a noise as oxen. These billy, when they smell the blood of their kind, the whole herd gather round, with vengeance in their eyes, and tear up the ground. Bulls on such mighty occasions, are the most forward, and lead on the furious concert
Billy Bell. — This is rather an out-of-the-way little song.
BILLIE BELL.
Hech ! how ! Billie Bell !
Whar hast thou been wandering ? Up in heaven, or down in hell ?
Ye beat the deil for dawn' ring.
Hast thou got a hizzie yet, To streek down by thy side, Billie ?
Or canst thou no ava, man, get Ane to be thy bride, Billie ? E
66 BIL BIL
I ha*c a* hame daughters sax — Wilt thou come and see them, Billie ?
And gin ane o'them thou 'It aux, Tse be na ill t*thee, Billie.
I'll gi'e to thee a bonny cow,
Gm ihou'll tak my Nannie, Billie, Ane Crommie wi* a brocket mou'.
And they ca* her brawnie, Billie.
But gin thou' It no fancy her.
And ratherest wad ha'e Meg, Billie, A less tocher maun her ser*
Twa grey geese and a Steg, Billie.
Or, if thou better likes the e*e
O* my wee Jeany, Billie, My turkey-cock I'll gi'e to thee.
And the breeding Peanie, Billie.
As for my Tibbie, Nell, and Kate,
] ha'e nought to gie them, Billie, But my blessing air and late : —
Sae come awa and see them, Billie.
Billy Marshall. — The famous Gallo vidian gypsey, or tinkler. He was of the family of the Marshall's, who have been tinklers in the south of Scotland time out of mind. He was a short, thick-set, little fellow, with dark quick eyes; and, being a good boxer, also famous at the quarter staffs he soon became eminent in his core ; and having done some wonderful trick by which he got clear off, he was advanced to be the chief of the most important tribe of vagabonds that ever marauded the country. The following was that trick : — He and his gang being in the neighbourhood of Glasgow when there was a great fair to be held in it, himself and two or three more of his stamp, having painted their faces with keel, they went to the fair and enlisted, getting each so much cash. They then deserted to their crew in the wild mountain glen, leaving the soldiers without a single cue whereby to find them. For all, Billy once really took the bounty, joined the army, and went to the wars in Flanders ; but one day he accosted his commanding officer, who was a Galloway
BIL BIL 67
gentleman, this way : " Sir, ha'e ye ony word to send to your friends in Scotland at present?" "What by that?" returned the officer, " Is there any person going home ? " "Ay," continued Billy, " Keltonhill fair is just at hand. I ha'e never been absent frae it since my shanks could carry me to it, nor do I intend to let this year be the first." The officer, knowing his nature, knew it would be vain to try to keep him in the ranks, so bade him tell his father and firiends how he was ; he also gave him a note to take to his sweetheart So Marshall departed, was at Keltonhill fair accordingly, and ever after that paid much respect to the family of Maculloch, of Ardwell.
It is not my intention to give a lengthened portrait of this character, as one of the above family, who personally knew him, has done this for me, and much better than I could, in Blackwood's Magazine. Suffice it to say, that the Corse d Slakes was a favourite haunt of his. There did he frequently way-lay the unwary, and sometimes deprived them of both life and purse. Billy's gang were seldom ever beat by any others. When they met at fairs, he generally drove all before him ; for the Irish took up with him from Down and Deny, — ^and who can overcome them at the handling of the stick ? To those country Cock Lairds who were kind to him, he would do them no injury, but all the good in his power ; whereas, those who were his foes, — Billy was upside with them.
He would not have cared to have taken up lodging — he and his core — in one of these gentlemen's kills — to have purloined the greater part of the poultry, and roasted them with the wood of the roof of said kill — to have there staid a week, perhaps, in spite of every body — gone away at his own time — and left a world of desolation behind him. It was in one of these scenes that he drank. May flier waur be amang us — a toast that can be construed in many shapes. Thus did he flounder on through a long life.
68 BIL BIL
When he got old, his people, though, in a great measure, forsook him.
It seems that he had both the good and bad qualities of man about him in a very large degree. He was kind, yet he was a murderer — an honest soul, yet a thief — at times a generous savage — at other times a wild Pagan. He knew both civil and uncivilized life — the dark and fair side of human nature. In short, he understood much of the world — had no fear — a happy constitution — was seldom sick — could sleep on a moor as soundly as in a feather- bed— took whisky to excess — died in Kirkcudbright at the age of 120 years — was buried there in state by the Hammer-men, which body would not permit the Earl of Selkirk to lay his head in the grave, merely because his Ix)rdship was not one of their incorporated tribe. Such was the end of Billy Marshall, a brother of Meg Merri- less.
BILLY MARSHALL'S SONG.
Merry ha'e I been making a cutty,
And merry ha'e I been making a spoon. Merry ha'e I been courting a bonny lass,
Merr)' ha'e I been whan I had dune.
Sorry ha'e I been whan I was drubbit,
And mad wi' mysell whan my noddle was sair ;
Mony a time ha'e I sworn't, and ha'e broken't, That wi' the aik kibblings I'd never fight mair.
Dnmkensome aft ha'e I been at Kirkcubrie,
And at Auchencaim I ha'e aften been fu* ; And wi* my Meg Lundy, baitli week-day and Sunday,
Wi' skihing we've bebb'd oursells till we wad spue.
Fifty fat baimies now I ha'e gotten.
The wanton sweet hizzies war ay fond o* me ;
Wi' them I wad row on the burn-banks sae sunny, Bargallie kens wecl 1 had monyn spree.
Sac here's to the glens growing thickly wi' hazles.
Ay here's to days I will never see mair ; And here's to the tinklers, wallets, and cuddies,
Whilk (ladjcll ilk year to braw — Keltonhil-fair.
BIL BIL 69
The following song too is thought to have been ranted in Billy's core : —
Whan Jock and me war married, we war a happy twa,
We laugh'd thegether a* the day, and kiss'd the night awa;
Sae thick and thrang, or it was lang, the bairnies round did
squeel. And Jock and me the nappie lo'ed — sae a' gaed to the de'il.
We had twa kye, we pawn'd them baith, the sty we cleared,
and a' ; Our cocks and hens too, by my faith ! and wadding braws sae
braw; We drank like fish frae caup and dish, fu' cantily atweel, But wullawuns wi' tinklers now — we dawner to the de'il.
I lead ae weanie in my han', there's twa upon my back ; My spa wis ha'e ne'er a hoshen now, my pouches ne'er a plack ; My gudeman fallows after, wi' the cuddy, powks, and keel : It's alter'd days wi' us. How-hum I we're a' gaen to the de'il.
But gin my auntie K.ite was dead, and hidden i' the mools, My Jock and me, again shall be, a pair o' ranting fools ; Than we'll can clash, about our cash, and dress frae head to heel ; For we shall heir her pursikie, in spite, man, o' the de'il.
Than we'se fling down the hampers, and dance a merry jig ; My Jock will crack his whup, and sing, and birl me in a gig. We'll lash awa, and dash awa, and drink like mad and breel ; For what the hell cares Jock and me, tho' we should gae tae de'il.
EPITAPH ON BH.LY MARSHALL.
Weel tinkler Billy, here you are, The king ance o' the core, man ;
We wat ye were a kettle rare, Whan ye did see sax score, man.
O brawly ye could clour a croon. And make a nose play gush, man ;
Ye like<l weel to bleach a loon — Your cudgell was na frush, man.
Gude faith, ye were na joke ava
Amang yer randy lasses ; And cheels wha did the ramhorns thraw,
Wi' a' yer cuddy asses.
The whisky just in noggin-fu's, Ye, 'ihout a howst, cud slot, man ;
Ye were na ane wha boaks and spues, And brashes't up the throat, man.
70 BIL BIN
Sae, Billy, rest thy crazy banes.
Thy soul, belike's in hell, man ; We only guess that there it granes,
For wha the de'il can tell, man ?
Yet if ye're got to the right shore,
Ye may be unco' glad, man ; For, counting ilk infernal splore,
Sma' was the chance ye had, man.
The duddy de'ils, in mountain glen,
I^menteth ane and a' man ; For sic a king they'll never ken.
In bonny Gallowa, man.
BiLT. — A short thick man.
BiLTAN. — Moving with the air of a thick short man.
BiNKED-SHOON. — Shocs which were at first too laige for the feet that were to wear them, and the leather naturally bend- ing inwards, they become at last too small — full of " binks *' or bends.
BiNN. — A man of strong binn is a man strongly built and bound — crop of good binn is a good strong crop.
BiNwuD — Wood-bine. I once tried my hand at song-making, and produced the " Binwud Tree^^ which I here give with great deference — shewing forth what a modest and wonderful poet I, the youth, am — who will be a beau before my granny yet.
Sing hey for the Binwud tree,
O ! sing how for the Binwud tree ; For there the lads and the lasses wad meet.
And daff 'neath the Binwud tree. — Chorus, —
There did Jock and his Mally Malinn
Meet aften thegither awee. And tho' the jade had an unco din skin,
It grew white *neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
There Maggie wha swore she detested the men,
Kiss'd wi' Tammy the Peanerflee ; His whushers fu straught to her heart gaed ben, •
As they lay 'neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
BIN BIR 71
O ! mony hied there a sprogan ateen.
Wham few wad expect to see, Wi' bonny red cheeks and blinking e*en.
And courd 'neath the Binwud tree.
Sing hey, &c.
For it grew in a neuk by yon bonny bum side,
Adown i' the flowery green lee ; And the mavis she lilted wi' meikle pride,
I*the bowers o' the Binwood tree.
Sing hey, &c.
But there cam a pizioness blast frae the south,
And destroy'd a* our e'ening glee ; O ! custom genteel — is the devil in trouth,
It has wallow'd the Binwud tree.
Then sing hey for the Binwud tree.
And sing how for the Binwud tree ; For there the lads and the lasses wad meet,
And daff 'neath the Binwud tree.
BiRKENSHAW. — A sunny place of all kinds of brushwood, a poet's country; there they roam unseen amang the Birks and yellow broom, and tune their pipes.
BiRKiE. — A would-be gentleman. BiRKY. — A rustic game at cards. BiRL. — To whirl.
BiRL THE Bawbee. — Sport the cash for drink, is so termed ; also halfpennies are tossed up at the beginning of some games, to learn what side has the right first to play ; this is called " Birlin tht Bawbee'' — See more of this article under the title Heads or Tails,
BiRND-MARKS. — Marks made by burning. Sheep are so seared on the side of the nose with red irons, that the owners may know them.
BiRNS. — Burned, or ratherly chared heather — the spikes.
Birr. — Whirr.
BiRSES. — The bristles of swines' manes.
BiRSEY. — Full of bristles.
BiRSLE. — ^To bristle.
72 BIR BLA
BiRST. — A little person full of impudence. Bit. — A small piece of any thing.
BiTTS. — Those jointed pieces of iron which are put in horses mouths of course, but used allcgorically in the country for a dram of whisky on certain occasions. When a man is wet and trembling with cold, give him a canker^ and you take the bitts out of his mouth.
/[/// ye no tak the bitts out d my mouth the day^ is a common phrase by those who long to have drink from their neebours when they meet on market-days in Clauchans, and after much hargle barreling is gone through, a gill is decided on, so the i)arty slide slowly and diffident into the yill- house.
Bizz — Buzz. Hair all tossed on end, is said to be in a bizz ; this comes from " Frizz^' the English word.
Black a viced. — Of black complexion ; probably this comes from ''^ Black afaced^
Blackbides. — Blackberries. This term for that fruit not very common.
Black Douglass. — Perhaps the greatest villain ever kno>Mi in Galloway ; his den was the castle of Thrave, a befitting keep for the tyger ; he keep^d the country round him in awe for many a day ; even the Scotch kings could make nothing of him. He caused Lord Kirkcubrie, M'Lellan, to be hanged by a rope from a projecting stone in his castle wall, yet to be seen, and took his dinner calmly while his hang- men were doing so. Some say he was " durked " in Annan- dale, but how he came by his death is uncertain ; however he did not die a natural death. More or less particulars of the wTctch may be known by peeping into any book almost which treats of Scottish anti(iuities.
Black-leg. — A kind of murrain or plague amongst cattle. The disorder for common seizes first on one of the hind legs, and this leg, when the animal dies, (which is in less
BLA BLA 73
than twenty-four hours mostly from the time struck) is of a black colour; whence the name. Sometimes they are touched first with the distemper in the eye, and other parts of the body. Young cattle are more subject to it than old ; and it is always the best of the flock that die, though all perish that take it, there being no cure as yet found.
Plans for preventing it are practised — bleeding, purging, what not ; these plans are often attended with good. Too old pasture is thought to be nothing in favour of it, and all allow that it is highly infectious.
Black Morrow. — WTio this man was, baffles all antiquaries.
Tradition has him a ^^ BiackimorCy' and says he haunted the forests south of Kirkcudbright ; a natural wood there is yet called the " Black Morrcnv Wud " ; there he stopped during the day, sallying out on the neighbouring country at night, and committing horrible outrages. Also, that having found his retreat, which was beside a cool spring, in the dark forest, yet called the ^^ Blackimore's IVall^ a barrel of spirits was brought by the people, and poured into the spring well one night when he was out on his rambles. Next day, having drank of the fountain, as usual, he became touched with the grog, and fell asleep, snoring profoundly ; his foes then rushed on him, like the Philistines on Samson, and " dirked his heart wV mony a deedly hoUr
So goes tradition — but my opinion, if it be worth any thing, is, that he was no ^^ BiaMmore ;" he never saw Africa ; his name must have been ** Murray ; " and as he must have been too an outlaw, and a bloody man — gloomy with foul crimes — ^^ Black'' prefaced it, as it did Black Douglass^ and that of others ; so he became Black Murray. Antiquarians say the sum of 50/. was offered by the king for his head, dead or alive.
That one of the APLellans, of Kirkcudbright, took to the wood single-handed, with a dirk, found the oudaw
74 BLA BLE
sleeping, and drove it through his head. With the cash he bought the estate of Barmagauchm, in Borgue; the foundation of the " head on the dagger " in the M'Lellan's coat of arms.
Black-pish-minnies. — Black pismires.
Black Soles. — ^An assistant courtier. A male messenger between a man and his love. There is a meanness in any man working with such characters ; it shews he has not a soul to dare to speak to a woman, nor a heart to love one.
Black Wunter. — The name for the last of the crop brought in from the fields. The harrester^ whose lot this job is, takes as good care as he can to avoid its being generally known, until he has it done ; as if it be, the others assail him with all filth for bringing in such a sad thing as black wtmter,
Bladderskyte. — A silly foolish person, as easy ^^skyied^' aside as a " bladder,''
Blae. — Blue, or light blue.
Blae-berries. — Billberries.
Blae-bows. — Blue flax bells ; the flowers of flax.
Blaidry. — Foolish chat.
Blart. — The noise which any broad thing makes falling amongst sludge or mortar.
Blashy-wather. — Wet stormy weather.
Blastie. — Any ill-disposed youth.
Blatter. — To talk fast ; to rattle.
Blauds. — Broad pieces of any thing.
Blaw. — Blow ; to puff* any thing.
Blaw o* the Pipe.— A whiff* of the pipe.
Bleck. — A blackguard ; a " kintra-cooser."
Blecks amang Wheat. — Milldew.
BLE BLI 75
l^LEDNOCH Water. — The chief river in the shire of Galloway or Wigtownshire ; it runs through a fertile track of country ; it is a fine fishing stream ; and where it falls into Wigtown Bay, at Innerwall, good salmon are caught. There are traces where ancient battles have been fought on its banks ; and some warm fancies have the river's name from " Bied-
Bleech. — ^A stroke.
Bleer E'ed. — Having ^ore eyes; dim with tears and dried tears.
Bleeze. — A blaze ; also to blazon.
Blellum. — An ignorant talkative fellow.
Blibbans. — Ribbons of any kind of slimy matter.
Blichan. — A person useless for any thing.
Blin — Blind.
Blinbarnie — Blindharry. The game.
Blinchamp. —A very singular rustic game ; when a bird's nest is found, such as a Corbies or Hoodicraw^Sy or some such birds that the people dislike, the nest is herried^ that is to say, the eggs are taken out of it, and laid in a row a little from each other on- the grass ; one of the players has then something bound over the eyes to blind them, a stick is put in his hand, so he marches forth as he thinks right to the egg-row, and strikes at it; another tries the champing after him until they thus, blindfolded, break them ; hence the name blincliamp.
Blink. — To wink.
Blinked Milk — Milk distasted. It gets so in warm sultry weather, the heat, as it were, ferments it Gude 7viv€s have it fired^ but the origin of blinked is, that it is witched j blink d at by a foul ie,
Blin-mens-baws — A kind of dried fungi, or mushroom ; being balls, as it were, of a fine dark brown dust ; this
76 BLI BOA
dust is doubtless blinding to the eyes, hence the name ; they are common on the pasture fields during summer and harvest, particularly if the weather be dry; when they are young, they are white inside and out like other mushrooms, yet detested by " catchup brewers " for reasons best known to that " valuable " tribe.
Blinnie. — A person mimicating the blind.
Blirt. — The exterior of a mare^s uterus.
Block the Ice. — A curling term, the same with ^^ big-on" to block up with guards the run of the stones, so that none of them may take out a guarded winner.
Bluchans. — Little salt-water fish, about the size of Burn trouts.
Bluchtans. — Pieces of the dried stem of the mugwort ; they are hollowed tubes : boys blow haw-stones and what not through them ; hence the name.
Blue Boys. — Bad boys.
Blue-Gowns. — Old soldiers, with a "/a^j" for begging; they got a blue-gown and a shilling Scots, for every year of the king's age ; there are none of them now wandering the country. Eddie Ochiltree will hand them down to posterity.
Bluester. — A bully of words.
Blumf. — A stupid loggerhead of a fellow, who will not brighten up with any weather, who grumfs at all genuine sports, and sits as sour as the devil, when all around him are joyous.
Blunner Boar. — A blundering fool. •
Blurr. — To blotch the paper with ink when wTiting.
Blushions. — Bulbs of water ; blisters of the flesh.
Bluti'er. — A foolish man, rather of the idiot stamp.
BoACK. — To vomit.
Boaf. — A name for a foolish dog.
BOA BOG 77
BoAL. — A square niche in a wall for holding little needfuls ; such as Grannies specks, and cuttypipe^ with the bane- kame and single carriges.
Boas. — Any thing full of emptiness.
BocHLE. — An awkward footed female.
B<:x;hi,es. — Old shoes, or shoes that have been worn by awkward shaped feet.
Bode. — An offer.
Boddle. — A small Scottish coin, the sixth part of an English penny, and the half of a Scotch plack.
Boddum. — The bottom.
Bodies o*Borgue. — The people of the parish of Borgue ; so called by the natives of neighbouring parishes.
Bogg-bean. — The trefoil herb of the marshes.
BoGGiT. — Stuck fast as in a soft bog.
Boggles. — A general name for all beings which create an earimess in man. In Scotland, more boggles are seen and heard of than there are in all the rest of the world ; how this comes to pass may be difficult to define, but so it is. In every country of a similar form, composed chiefly of hill and dale, rocks and wild mountains, we find the natives having their boggles ; the Welsh and Swiss are this way, and many others. But what have they in comparison to the Scots ? what are their knockers and reckers, to war- locks without end, worrico^as, kelpies, spunkies, wraiths, witc/ties, and carlinesl what, a mere nothing— accounts of these supernatural beings will appear in their proper order, and show that the Scots are a nation not only famous for religion, war, learning and independence; but also for superstition, which practically proves this point in moral philo- sophy, that fear attends the brave, as modesty does the worthy ; and in proportion as the intellect is weak or strong.
78 BON BON
BoNELLO. — A bon aller amongst parting friends. These meetings are generally merry to the last, they are then ex- tremely sad.
KIRRCORMOCK'S BONELLO.
Kirrcormock's biyth lairdy, or he gaed awa, To fight and to florrie, through wide India, Invited his neebours about ane and a\
To gi'e him a merry bonello.
And sure it wad been baith a sin and a shame,
For ony ava to hae drunted ahame ;
The de'il a ane did sae, fu* gladly they came,
And breel'd at the lairdie's bonello.
The barmen did rattle their flails ow're the bawks. The millers did hushoch their melders in sacks. And hung the best braws that they had on their backs.
To flash at the funny bonello.
The hizzies a tramping their claise at the bum, That day they had nathing to whine 'bout nor yum ; In their bowies wi* barehochs, they plunged their turn.
And fluchter'd about the bonello.
The mowdieman cuist down his petals and traps. The herd left his hirsle amang the green taps, And the milk-maid she scrubbed and scyringed her naps.
And hasted awa tae bonello.
For sic an a shine, was seldom ere seen, Auld Scotlan' did vow she had ne'er wi her e'en Beheld ought to match 'd since the ** Kirk on the Green/'
'Twas a noble conducted bonello.
In the welkin fu* hie, the moon beamed bright. Ne'er a clud came across her the hale o' that night ; How the lasses, fu' charming, did skip in her light,
Up the glens to the darling bonello.
And mony a laddie, wi' bosom sae warm, Half carried his dearie alang on his arm. For the hizzies that night, the frost-bitten cud charm,
It was an enchanting bonello.
The hale was delightfu — the binks they were pang*d. Time about roun' the laugh and the blether ding-dang'd, Fowk could na a' sit now, were they to be hang'd,
Sae af gaed the dance and bonello.
What huzzas now did follow — the kipplings rang. On their taptaes what couples did jicker and spang. Whan the pipers play'd up, how they fimmer'rl alang.
Heels cracking to cheer the bonello.
BON BON 79
The mowdieman's shoon being sparrable paved,
How he duner'd, and hooh'd, and thumped, and raved,
While the stroods, that the bannen the barley wi* kaved,
Gaed clampering through the bonello.
In jugs and decanters, and noggins and kits, The drink it did circle, and mirth took her fits ; Nae glumfie chiel sat, wi' his sneers and his skits.
Scrutinizing the famous bonello.
How the breasts o* the bare-necked lasses did heave — Round pair after pair. Love's nets she did weave, Frae ither fu' easily hearts they did reave,
O! the joys o' the lovely bonello.
Thus, wi* dancing and drinking, the night slided by, Till Sol, wi' his gowd gilt the Easilin sky, And mony a drunken chiel ouzily did ly,
A bumpling wi' the bonello.
Kirrcormock himsell was as fou' as a witch, He danced till his lisk was beset wi' a stitch. For a', while his shanks after him he cud hitch,
He keep'd up his glorious bonello.
Sair wauchled the hizzies were or they gat hame ; Some seemed in a dalldrum, yet fu' o' game ; And twa'r-three moons after did swaul i' the wame,
Wi' hougheling at the bonello.
For the sake o' auld Scotlan, sae every gude chiel, Wha meaneth to lae her sud tak his fareweel ; Or else wi' a vengeance be flung to the de'il,
And in hell baud his cursed bonello.
BoNSPiEL. — The highest game at curling — the chief spieL When one parish, for instance, challenges another to play it, at the famous Scottish game of curling, or channiestane, that bout on the ice is called a bonspiel. The best players on these occasions are selected to play, and when not only their own honour, but that of their parish is at stake, they do, or at least strive to do, their very best ; though often good players are put into such a flutter at these times, that they lose the steadiness of their han\ and play badly : those who keep unmoved amid the crowd, and pay no attention to either damns or huzzas, play always best. The parishes of Borgue, Sorby^ and CloseburUy
8o BON BON
rank amongst the first of the curling communities in the south of Scotland.
Sometimes cock-Iairds challenge other to fight a bon- spieiy and often these concerns turn out to be wars in- deed. The following poem depicts a broolzie of this nature : —
THE BONSPIEL.
In Auld Scotlan' whan winter snell
Bin's up the fosey yirth, Than jolly curlers hae a spell,
O' manly fun and mirth : Whanerc the ice can har'ly bear
Ahame lie hurkling nane, Wha likcth independant cheer,
And can a channel -stane
Owrhog that day.
But whiles our grand peculiar game.
Which ithers .1' surpasses ; Is hurt by Gomfs, weel worth the name,
Vain bullieing senseless asses : Akin tae them brave Hallions twa.
Laird Nurgle and I^ird Nabble, 'Bout wham I mean tae croon awa.
Or like a wilesteg gabble
A while this dav.
Their habits, tempers, a' are bad.
They're saucy, glunchy, greedy ; Lan' they alike ay nearly had.
And tenants starving needy : For far abroad they baith were bred,
Sae are o' kindness scarce av, A savage life they lang had letl,
And lash'd puir Massa's arsie
On mony a day.
To curling they d'd baith pretend,
Sae challeng'd ane anither ; Their farming slaves a han' maun lend.
And neither whinge nor swiiher ; Twall on a side, the place Ix)ch Lum,
The rink just forty ell ; The bet a puncheon o' gude rum.
Upon the ice ilsell,
Fu' fu' that day.
BON BON 8 J
And 'ere they did the play begin,
Ilk stamock gat a cauker, For nane did think it was a sin
Most bonnily to tak her. Ahin the quickly toomed glass.
How the wee finger twirled, Than up in air a bawbee was,
For heads or tails hie birled
To lead that day.
Laird Nurgle had that triffling luck,
Sae his first player led ; llie stane to his direction stuck,
But by the cock it fled ; At which b^[an to fidge the laini.
And muttering to blame him ; Laird Nabble's man na better fared,
For Nabble loud did damn him.
At first that day.
** Lay your stone right upon the tee,
** My sickar handed fellow ; ** My broom, if you're not blind, ye see,"
Fat Nurgle now did ycllo'. The trimling player stells his tramps
\Vi' mony a stamping stog ; Af gangs his stane, and ay it clamps,
But hoh portule, a hog —
It grunts that day.
What language now frae Nurgle fell,
His phiz had on a horrid thraw ; What oaths he let, ne'er heard in Hell,
Warm frae the Gulph o' Florida. Lean Nabble than gaed out the word —
** Be white ice to the witter ; ** You're, ye are not worth a t — d,
•* Ye seem tae hae the sk r,
" Or bloit this day. "
O ! was na that a darling game,
And worthy imitation ; Ye wha do understand the same,
Ye standards o' our nation — Had they been on Loch Duddingston,
And no Loch Lum, we're thinking, Few ends indeed they wa.i hae thrown,
But aff been hissed linking,
Fu' fast that day. F
82 BON BON
Whanere a Scotchman turns a slave
He is na worth a hoddle ; Before the brave — below a knave
Will cringe, they'll want the noddle. Though there are some, we're wae to tell»
Feet soles are fond o' licking, Will stick to tyrants, even to Hell,
And bear their sneers and kicking
Frae day to day.
But still the bonspiel drives awa,
The ice was weak and slagie ; The stanes wad scarce gang up ava,
ITiey grew sae unco clagie. Ill nature pued do^*'n every brow.
The lairds they swore and choked ; There common sense did loit and spue,
And wisdom aften boked
Wi' a brash that day.
Thus frothing on, ilk noble side
Wi* blustering wan a game ; A' corked were alike wi pride,
A Gomeril's near the same. This minute was a bullierag.
And that a blue erruction ; At length did burst the meikle bag
Which caused the destruction
O* the spiel that day.
As Nurgle raved about the cock,
A stane came up the rink. And hit his heel a canny shock,
On that wV joy we think — For down he whurled upon Ix)ch Lum,
Some crawing cockaleerie ; And span awhile upon his bum
Like Toutom, or queer pecrie,
Al>out that day.
But sprachling up a madman now .
See how he lays about him ; I^inl Nabble cudna see his crew
Abused — never doubt him. A battle general began,
Wi' brooms and neives they lingeil, And niony a wee bit foolish man
Was getting himscU swinged
In siilc thnt ilav
BON BOR 8.
Till hah ! the lochen gaed a rair,
And af in blavvds divided ; Down sank the gows amang the glaur.
Or else the water lided. Yet han' in han' they reached dry Ian',
Up to the chin w^eel cooled ; Then hame puir draggled cuifs they ran,
Magnificently fooled.
And dub'd that day.
Dear social honest countrymen,
Ixjt despots never dinnle Your manly bosoms — for will then
Nae pleasure through them trinnlc. I )etest those sooking turkey-cocks,
For ever jibing, jeering, And heed as little's yon grey rocks,
Their guldering domineering
On ony day.
B(X) — To make a sound like bulls. These animals make three kinds of noises, expressed by the words booing^ crooning^ and billieing. Two Galloway priests, once passing a fellow who was good at flinging everything into rhyme — (juoth the one to the other, " I hold ye a sixpence. Clinking Charlie will be beat with what I say to him?" Done, says the other: so, when they passed the poet, the priest held out his finger at him, sounding boo, when the man of clink instantly returned —
' * Mr. Scott and Mr. Boyd ** O* wit and learning they are void ; " For, like Billjock amang the kye, They boo at fowk as they gae by. "
<(
It is needless to add, that the clergymen slunk away, somewhat offended at the retort of Clinking Charlie.
BooNMOST — Uppermost.
Boost — Must.
BoRGUE — One of the most singular and celebrated parishes in the south of Scotland, and one too of the very best that is to be found in any country. The following j^oem, by an old bard of the name of Hackston, iK'longing to the said
84 BOR BOR
• parish, I here give, altered somewhat of course to suit my own foolish taste, and, perhaps, partly wTOte by myself^ as my muse is quite ready with her aid, when anything occurs, poorjade^ that she can help me too —
THE PARISH O' BORGUE.
Blest be the bard wha can twine out his lays To any grist, in thae great twining days ; Wha can plait cables, whan he has the thread, Within the haums o* his uncommon head : Can send his muse to India for a time. To wallow sweetly in that luscious clime 'Mang ladies, harams, and delicious flowers. Melodious groves, and lovely vernal showers ; Or up amang the duds, the clever wench. Far frae yirth's beauty, or her unco stench, To step about amang the stams, and see A thousan' queer things wi' her gledgin* e'e ; Car' takin tho' to keep in sight o* hame. For fear some hule might scare her flight to fame, And ow're a comet's tail gae lay and skelp her. Without ane being near at han' to help her.
For me, I care na tippence whar we go, Whether tae lift, or fumart holes below ; Whether to bonny isles ayont the sea, Alall ydlies Hallan^ or the Brig o* Dee^ Whar Brumstane Dallies fired a peat-stack. And burnt a pedlar ance to get the pack ; Aroun the moon, or Muncrai^s gurly shore, Whar pasper grows, and slavering pellocks snore ; Whar Connel fell and brake his neck and scull Ane Sabbath day, when berrying, lucky Gull, Adown the heugh the chiel reel'd a' to brash — His banes and eggs met an unwelcome crash.
Enow, tho' Borgue, my muse wi* pith and glee, Means thee to croon, for, faith, thou pleaseth me ; And I've heard singing 'bout some spout or bum. Perhaps, nae better than our ain Pttlhvhum ; 'Bout hills and tomacks too, faith, by the gross. Perhaps na bonnier than the Mool or Ross ; W^i shores and caves whar gurly wuns do bio', As by Nockbrax and ancient Carlines co\ O ! famous parish for the Broums and SprbalSy The like o't s na on this side John o' Groats. True honest chiels and merry bunts o' lasses, I've tooted wi' ye mony whusky glasses, Spent mony a happy day amang ye trouth. And ay ye hac keep'd me sai>])ie 'IkuU the mouth.
BOR BOR 85
There's Blair 0' Seiiwick^ what a darling cheel, May he ne'er feel the clutches o' the De'il; For weeks thegether he has keep'd me swimmin In Hollan gin wi' him how aften raemin. Auld MiUdroch too, I wuss him ay fu' hale, At the sawih Uggft — mony a worthy tale We twa hae gat, and cracking, drunk our fill O' hame made maut and sometimes trickle yill, While auld Matninriy the hule for clubbing lees, For nursing flowers, and skepping hives o bees, Sat, like a sage, aside the chimlew lug. And fancied queer things owre the faeming jug. The Deacon's an uncouth, but clever fallow. He is na dult, gude faith, he's nae way shallow.
And at the Ross, wi' yawcking Johnif Dmvall^ And Manksmen gabbling frae the nianor-hoU ; What naggins hae we drank o' smuggled rum. Just hot frae aff the Isle d three legs come. ^xcjoach cheers me, it cows ought ere I foun', Except the lovely blinks o' Mary Cun ; Sweet Mary, shining wi' a thousan' charms. The loveliest saul ere lay in Hackstands arms ; What happy hours upon the buesty grass O' Camiehill I hae towzled wi' my lass.
Borgue lads delight to marry lasses bonny. Yet scorn to gang frae hame to seek for ony ; They'd tak a sister o' their ain, by Jove, Afore they'll through anither parish rove : Sae blest am I gets ane as bright's the sun, Without gaun far the Iwnny Mary Cun. Nae Sillar sawnies on the Borness shore Can sparkle like the e'en dang Ilackston owre ; Nae waving tangle, at low-water mark. Can match her hair for shading light and dark ; Nae sleek wee cobbles, gn the wave-washed beach, Beshape her bosoms — that they canna reach ; But bletherin this way's unco silly fun, For nought on yirth to me's like Mary Cun; But e'en thout her, auld Borgue I wad adore, Ay, every rummling-kim about its shore: Tho', my dear Mary, i'the mirkest night, Maks me run far, to hug my lassy tight. The Plunton Castle howlets wild may cry. And ghaists alx)ut Barrloch, yawp — ** Hackston fie," Cullraven^ s auld gibb cats eternal mew, Mossnefs ten-headed gomf might come in view. And ilka collie after me might run, Hackston should see his deary Mary Cun.
O ! Mary Cun and Borgut to me are dear, And shall be sae while alive can steer ; Whan I am dead, may they their hoary bard Clap i'the mools o' Srnicick's lane khk-yo/d:
86 1K)R BOS
Aside the auld giule friens wha mony a day Took pity on my haffets growing grey. And at my head set up an auld sea sclate, \\V thae words on't, coined in my curious pate — ** Here Hackston lies, Bori^ais lonrat mony a year ** Without his saul — whar's it, we canna hear ; •' He liked rhyme, was fond o' the wee drap, ** And now he sleeps as sound as ony tap."
But why thus talk, whan I'm a sturdy man I'll aff tae chieftain curlers on Nockann^ And see the fun, the pith o' mcikle banes, Sends whunnering up the rink the channel-stanes, I'll ablins get a dram o' whusky there. Syne I'll be crouse as ony tipped hare. Kirkcubricy Twinholm^ Girthott^ canna craw,
Borgu€ bids them kiss her , she beats them a'
At bonspiels, ay, o' what a shilpet crew.
Sic pewtring bodies, curse me, ne'er I knew :
Come never here, ye druken hallion Sloarty
Wi' a' your flum, let us in Borgue alone ;
Borgue is a pure, a spotless lawland clan,
Chain'd heart and hand thegether man and man :
Nae grubbing strangers here dare cock their nose,
Puir bodies may, tho' she be kind to those,
Wi' ony ithers, soon she is insulted,
Forbes can fley them, faith, frae out the pulpit.
Wi' faces, ay, as white as ony starch,
They wad be joustled clean out owre the march,
For mang our clints and hags, and rashy bogs,
Chiels do appear, can claw a fallow's lugs :
A glorious squad they are, baith one and a',
They're no hauf matched in a' wild (Jallowa :
While Hackston doth their sprightly baimies teach,
While Forbes can like ony stentor preach ;
W^hile bonny lasses in the Boreland thrive.
And nowt in Semvick Parks can southward drive ;
While Samuel Cloon^ in Ross can sit fu' cross.
While i^eats are got in Plunton^s glaury moss ;
While craws at Barma^iachin^ yearly big,
And lasses at the kirk look unco trig,
Borgue shall be famous throughout auld Scotland,
Her woo^ and hinnit never left on hand.
BoRGUE-HiNNiE — BoFgue honcy. This article is of such good quality, ^hat the fame of its excellence spreads far and wide. In London there is a sign, with Borgue hinnie for a^r^ wrote on it.
Boss — A fat consequential man.
Boss IE— Bosom.
BOS BOW 87
Bou— To bend.
BoucH — One of a curr-dog's barks.
BouTGATE — A\Tien a plowman starts from one latiden or headn'g, plows to the other, and returns to where he broke off, he is said to have gone a boutgate ; as also the distance which mowers can go at a sharps or with one sharping of the scythe. This is also termed a boutin or boutgate,
BouKiN Linen — Boiling linen webs with lees, in order to lay them out to bleach.
BouLS — The bended handles whereby several vessels are moved anyAvhere.
BowEROCK — An huddled lump of any thing. Big on to the bowcrcocky a term at curling, and means, to direct the stone to where a number are already laid.
BowERTREE-PUFF. — An hollow tube made of Boretree, used by kili-men to blow through, and rouse their seed fires, or nres fed by the husks of corn.
Bowie — A washing-tub.
Bowk A XL — Cabbage.
BowLHivE — ^A deadly distemper, common amongst infants.
BowLOCH — A person with ill-shaped legs.
Bowls — Basons of a small size, made of earthen ware.
BowT — An iron bolt
BowT. — To start up suddenly is to bncft up ; as a person, when come up to the surface again, after plunging beneath water. This word, and the English "boyant" are one and the same.
Ik)W-W(nv — A (log's bark, when he first smells strangers.
BowzE. — A set-to for some time at eating and drinking.
88 BOW BRA
BowziE. — Looking fat like. A man is said to be so that fills his waiscoat well.
BoYTOCH — A thick short little animal ; bad at walking.
Bra or Braw. — Well dressed : neat.
Brack. — A break.
Brack an Egg. — A curling phrase, given by the directors of the game to those about to play ; and means, that they are to strike a stone with their*s, with that force that it would break an egg between them at the point of contact
Brae. — The brow-side of a hill.
Brag and Pairs. — A rustic game at cards.
Bragwort. — Mead. A fermented liquor, made from honey : a 7aor/ that can drag all others for being so good. Hence the name bragwort. After the bees are smtdked in the Jiinharrest time^ the gude wife takes the kaimes out of the skep^ and lets the hinny drop out of them before the fire ; when this is done, she takes these combs or kaimes and steeps them in water. This water, warmed and quickened with bartn, composes bragwort. It is an extreme sweet and pleasant drink ; when put in bottles it is apt to break them. That person is a particular favourite in that house, when, by making a call, he is treated with a draught of bragivort. If he be a young man of fair character, looking out for a wife, and this house be a place where fair dames are, he is sure to taste bragwort. It may be called with propriety the " lover's drink."
Braiggle. — Any old, unsafe article — as a large gun with a large lock.
Braird. — Com as it appears above the ground a little after it has been sown, when it begins to " beard."
BRA BR^\ 89
Brairded-dykes. — Fences bearded with whins, thoms, or other brushwood, to hinder cattle from getting over them.
Brallion. — An unwieldy man.
Brange. — To kick, to plunge, and knock things to desolation, like a mad horse.
Branks. — Old wooden bridles, also a disorder of the neck.
Branner. — A brander.
Brash. — A watry fit of sickness.
Brashloch. — Rubbage.
Bratchie. — Indian rubber. That elastic gum which comes from the Indian tribes, used for defacing the marks of wadd, or black lead.
Brats. — Aprons ; also rags ; also children in rags.
Bratt. — ^The scum of any fluid.
Brattle. — To rattle.
Braun. — An old boar.
Bravely. — Very well.
Brawchton. — Any thing weighty and unwieldy.
Brawd. — Any large rude article.
Brawly. — The same with bravely.
Brawnet. — ^A colour made up of black and brown, mostly' relating to the skins of animals. A " nowt beast o* a brawnet
• colour " takes a south-country man's eye next to that o' the " slae black."
Braws. — Dresses. The grandest of these are generally farthest " ben " the wardrobe. Hence we say of any one when we see them more gaudy than usual, that the " boddom 0' the kist has been a looking at ."
Braxy. — A disorder prevalent amongst sheep, and in general a very fatal one. The animal soon dies after infected.
90 liRA BRA
and there is no cure for it as yet discovered that can be said to avert the evil. Sheep in good condition are those it makes great havoc of. That kind of weather with hoar frost after rain is the worst for it ; shepherds then are sure to have much mortality amongst their flocks. Braxy is a malady attended always with an abominable stench. Strangers unused to it cannot for some time suffer it at all. Their smelling organs will not endure it ; and much longer are they in bringing themselves to be able to eat the flesh of the poor animals who perish, let it be boiled, stewed, roasted, or any way .dressed. All the spice in the world will not keep down the noxious smell. The braxy effluvia keeps still uppermost : the daught predominates. In truth, it is not a very wholesome food. Those feeding much on it become blotched, and not unfrequently are troubled with that filthy disease, the yaws.
Braxy-hams. — The hams of those sheep which die of the braxy. When the herd finds any of his flock dead of that distemper, if they can stand three shakes — that is to say, if they be not so pu trifled or rotten but that they can stand to be thrice shaken by the neck without falling to pieces — then he bears them home to his master's house on the braxy sfulty. What of the carcases can then be ham*d, are done, and the rest of the flesh made present use of by the family. The hams thus cut out are hung up in the smuiky brace, until they are quite dry. They are then bound in bunches, like so many hare-skins, and suspended on nags and clicks, in convenient parts of the roof of the kitchen, and used now and then for very singular purposes. As for instance, when a club of burn trout fishermen, or one of viuirfule sportsmen come the way of the house, they are hospitably entertained at table with plenty of braxy hatn, and other dainties ; for the natives of the moors are a kind people, and generally keep what is understood by a fu' house. Now I am not
BRA }]RE 91
sneering at present ; but honestly saying, that a male o' sic foody washed down by a few glasses oi peat reek, or tumblers of brag7aorty please a hungry kyte very much, and cause one to fall in love with mountaineers. For braxy is by no means bad food, when ham*d ; the smell then in a great measure leaves it Like^vise these hams sometimes adorn the saddle-bow of a moorland lover, when he starts a horse- back to seek a wife, and are considered to aid him much in making his putt-gude with any girl he takes a fancy for, particularly if she be a laich fiel lass ; though he is often disappointed in this speculation. However, on the whole, there is worse furniture to be found in a house, in cold, snowy, wintry weather, than plenty of braxy ham,
Braxy Sheltv'. — A little rough poney kept by moor farmers to bring home braxy sheep.
Breasted. — Leaped, by first throwing up or over the breast. Those who mount horses without stirrups, are said to "breast on to their bare backs." Girls sneering at short little men, often say, " that they cudna breast a ratton af a peat"
Brechams. — Collars for horses; anciently they were made entirely of straw, and called " Strae brechams."
Breckan. — The fern.
Breckany Braes. — Rural solitudes, growing with fern; the haunts of innocence and rustic poets.
Breeds. — Breadths. Girls talk of how many breeds d prent wll make them 2i frock,
Breeks. — Breeches.
Breel. — To reel ; to make a noise.
Breest-banes. — The breast-bones of fowls. They are bones of a forked figure. Two persons engage to pull the fork apart with their little fingers. They draw against each other, and the person who gets the largest share of
92 BRE BRO
the bone left in hand when it breaks, is said will be married first.
Breeze. — To bruise.
Brentbrows. — Having a smooth forehead, not wTinkled.
Brew. — Opinion. This word deserves further consideration. " I ha'e nae great brew o' that man," is often said, and means, " I have no great opinion of that man." Also, '* I ha'e a good brew," which signifies the reverse. Now, this " brew *' cannot be allied to " broe^^ sap or fluid of some kind, but may be to " brow,'' the front of the brain, as those who read phizzes place much dependance on w^hat they find on the brow ; still this comes not to the point. I am flung back to " brew,''' — and this may mean, to make, to conceive ; as ale is brewed; for we are said to be a " brewing " when we are thinking. So the word, for all, may come from this : " I ha'e nae great brew." — There is
. no brewing in the brain of any consequence.
Bricht-lintie. — A bird of the linnet tribe.
Bridling Rapes. — Ropes which hold down the thatch on stacks. They are woven into the mvrgaun aties, or those which are vertical over the concent, and are not rolled up like them when made, but twisted together in a longer shuttle form.
Brig. — Bridge.
Brilch. — A short thick impudent person.
Brisket. — The breast
Brislin. — Bristlin.
Brither. — Brother.
Broaches. — Wooden spindles to put pirns on, to be wound of.
Brochen. — A fat mixture to feed young calves.
Brock. — Refuse of anything ; rotten straw.
Brock. — The badger.
BRO BRO 93
Brocket. — Like a badger in colour, black and white.
Brock-holes. — Badger dens.
Brod. — Board.
Brods. — Window-shutters.
Broe. — Sap, juice, &c. of any thing.
Broese. — Broth.
Broggle. — To make a bad hand of a job ; to be unhandy.
Broich. — To be warm and sweating much, is to be in a " broich " with sweat.
Broot^ies or Broozles. — Rows in the rural world. The old poem of " Christ's Kirk on the Green " is of this na- ture; also an unknown one, here to follow, termed
The BEE-IIIVE.
Whan May comes in wi* mochey showers,
And blinking suns, sae wanning. The bees, amang her bonny flowers,
Are smioking and swarming. Frae bud to bloom they bizz wi' speed.
For virgins ay they're striving ; Young queens their cores abroad do lead
To where the merry hiving
Will hand that day.
>
And aften far they'll tak a flight
Owre hills, and hags, and mosses ; Before they think it's time to light,
Which mony a body crosses ; As was the way wi' Archy Bell,
Whan his tap swarm did flee Out owre Bentoutlier's buesty fell.
And down tae Lowdenlee
Fu' straught ae day.
This Archy was a gree<ly curse.
And glie'd at things about ; — He pat the bawbee in his purse.
But seldom took it out. His mmd was no as braid's ane's loof ;
He had na heart ava ; Was just a grubbing, shyling cuif,
Fu' fit to gi'e ill jaw.
The lee lang day.
94
BRO BRO
A bee-man lang the chiel had iK'cn,
Keep'd mony a winter stale, And sell'd the hinny ay aff dean,
\Vi* Kannock-wax fu* hale. Xa hragwort ere was brewn by he
For scuiiifu's to sloken, A slang about the neb, or c'e,
Wad har'Iy make him gloken —
On ony day.
Amaist, like Bonar, he a skep
Cou'd paise and sleely han le ; The smooking them ne er made him weep,
\Vi* lowing brumstane can'le. 'i'lieir dying sough did please his lug —
That sad confused lamenting ; Hut feelings he had nane to tug,
Which throweth some, repenting —
On mony a day.
O, is it na a horrid thing.
Sic myriads to slaughter, For a' the cash the prize can bring,
And yet to do't in laughter ? — W^hich Archy unco often did.
And snork'd his snuff fu* cheery ; At length, however, he was chid.
And ne'er again was merry —
Wi* bees ae day.
The hive which warped owre the fell,
As formerly was stated. Was followed warmly by himsell —
O how he pech'd and sweated ! And now and then would glowre for it
Up i' the lift uflcloudy. Than something whiles wad keep his tit.
And whurl him heels owre gowdie —
Wi' a thud that dav.
Whiles too as thus he rowd and sten'd,
And clinched it awa. He'd slonk adown, or ere he ken'd,
A miry, quacking quaw, Or glauroch, far alwon the knee,
Through some blue rashy gullion, The hive ay keeping in his e'e,
A grim disjasket rullion
He was that day.
Thus driving down on Ix)wdculec
As hard as he cou'd smack, Against a whunstane dyke gae*^ he,
Rcboundinj; arsct l>.ick.
BRO BRC) 95
Queer rings o' mony a different hue
Did whirl afore his een ; Some were a yellow, ithers blue,
And some were livid green —
We true that day.
The dwamel aff, he skellie's roun',
But cou'd na see a bee ; Ay, sure he heard their bizzing soun\
Tho* them he cou'd na see. But whether it was the bomf he got,
That made his lang lues tingle, lie ken'd na, and away did trot.
Again what he cou'd wingle —
That weary day.
Till Girzy Grey, down i' the lee,
A cross-grained wrinkl'd wicker. Sees Archy wi' her reek'd e'e.
And cries, ** Whare's thLs, ye bicker? " ** Come here, gudeman, and len' a han' —
( **0 dinna by me hasten) •* And let us skep gin that we can
** My gude tap swarm here casten,
* * This bonny day. ' '
" Ve lee, ye bitch," (roars Archy out)
** I won'er o' ye Grizzel ; *' Ye'll get some day for it, I doubt,
** A whaling till ye whizzle. *' The hive is mine ; it flew frae hame
'* About an hour sincesyne, • * And after it I was na lame : —
•* D'ye think that I shall tyne
** My bees this day."
'* Your bees ! " (quoth she to Archy Bell)
" Faith, that's a talc indeed ! (), Archy, man, to de'il in hell,
** Ve're cantering wi' speed. " Though I be