the manse – in which I was born, stands in a pretty garden, bounded by the fine ancient abbey, which, though partially ruined, still serves as the parish kirk. The garden produced abundance of common flowers, vegetables, and fruit. Some of the plum and pear trees were very old, and were said to have been planted by the monks. Both were excellent in quality, and very productive. The view from both garden and manse was over the beautiful narrow valley through which the Jed flows. The precipitous banks of red sandstone are richly clothed with vegetation, some of the trees ancient and very fine, especially the magnificent one called the capon tree, and the lofty king of the wood, remnants of the fine forests which at one time had covered the country. An inland scene was new to me, and I was never tired of admiring the tree-crowned scaurs or precipices, where the rich glow of the red sandstone harmonised so well with the autumnal tints of the foliage.
We often bathed in the pure stream of the Jed. My aunt always went with us, and was the merriest of the party; we bathed in a pool which was deep under the high scaur, but sloped gradually from the grassy bank on the other side. Quiet and transparent as the Jed was, it one day came down with irresistible fury, red with the débris of the sandstone scaurs. There had been a thunderstorm in the hills upstream, and as soon as the river began to rise, the people came out with pitchforks and hooks to catch the hayricks, sheaves of corn, drowned pigs, and other animals that came sweeping past. My cousins and I were standing on the bridge, but my aunt called us off when the water rose above the arches, for fear of the bridge giving way. We made expeditions every day; sometimes we went nutting in the forest; at other times we gathered mushrooms on the grass parks of Stewartfield, where there was a wood of picturesque old Scotch firs, inhabited by a colony of rooks. I still kept the habit of looking out for birds, and had the good fortune to see a heron, now a rare bird in the valley of the Jed. Some of us went every day to a spring called the Allerly well,16 about a quarter of a mile from the manse, and brought a large jug of its sparkling water for dinner. The evenings were cheerful; my aunt sang Scotch songs prettily, and told us stories and legends about Jedburgh, which had been a royal residence in the olden time. She had a tame white and tawny-coloured owl, which we fed every night, and sometimes brought into the drawing-room. The Sunday evening never was gloomy, though properly observed. We occasionally drank tea with acquaintances, and made visits of a few days to the Rutherfurds° of Edgerton and others; but I was always glad to return to the manse.
My uncle, like other ministers of the Scottish Kirk, was allowed a glebe, which he farmed himself. Besides horses, a cow was kept, which supplied the family with cream and butter, and the skimmed milk was given to the poor; but as the milk became scarce, one woman was deprived, for the time, of her share. Soon after, the cow was taken ill, and my uncle’s ploughman, Will, came to him and said, ‘Sir, gin you would give that carline Tibby Jones her soup o’ milk again, the coo would soon be weel eneugh.’ Will was by no means the only believer in witchcraft at that time.
[2D, 23 bis: Dr Charters, minister of Wilton near Hawick, was a cousin of my mother’s and had been an admirer of her, but as she did not fancy him he remained a bachelor till very late in life when he married a ladylike amiable person of good family nearly of his own age. They had property of their own in the neighbourhood, but they lived in the manse prettily situated on the banks of the Slitterik.17 I was a particular favourite of both; they invited me to pay them a visit and sent the carriage to Jedburgh for my cousin Janet and me. It was an antiquated affair with a pair of fat, sleek, black horses with long tails, and a coachman who had been in the family time out of mind, yet he was a strict dissenter and would on no account hear his master preach. Dr Charters was a man of high cultivation and taste, he had travelled much in his youth, was a charming companion, grave in his demeanour yet cheerful, and perfectly liberal in his opinions. He took great interest in the education of his parishioners and had a library for the express purpose of lending them books not only on religion, but history, travels and voyages, also Shakespeare, Milton and other poets and was always ready to explain what they did not understand. Mrs Charters had five or six beautiful tortoise-shell coloured cats. One or two were always on her knee and they were very fierce and would not let me touch them, and above all they hated music, for one day when my cousin was singing with rather a loud screamy voice, one of the cats flew at her throat and bit her.]
9 Kraken: this mythical sea monster was first described in Pontoppidan’s Natural History of Norway (1752), translated from the Norwegian in 1755.
10 ‘Muckle’ or ‘mickle’: ‘big’ (Scots).
11 A Memoria Technica was a method of aiding memory e. g.: Memoria Technica, or a New Method of Artificial memory… applied to… Chronology, History etc [By R. Grey] London, 1730.
12 Aurora: this luminous atmospheric phenomenon, ascribed to electricity, radiating from the magnetic poles is usually more visible in northern or southern regions, hence Northern Lights.
13 Repulse: actually a 64-gun ship. The Repulse was initially involved in the Nore mutiny but was one of the first ships to leave it. The Venerable, Fairfax’s later command, was a 74-gun ship.
14 Hop job: the artist should have carved ‘My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle and are spent without hope’, ‘Job’ (Job, 7, 6).
15 A ‘bodle’ is a small copper coin, twopence Scots, hence something of little value.
16 Allerly: the home of Sir David Brewster (q.v.) near Melrose was called ‘Allerly’: he settled in this half-cottage, half-villa near Gattonside, Roxburghshire in 1824.
17 This is presumably Slitrig Water, a tributary of the River Teviot.
Edinburgh – Youthful Studies and Amusements – Politics – The Theatres of the Time
[My mother’s next visit was to the house of her uncle, William Charters, in Edinburgh. From thence she was enabled to partake of the advantages of a dancing-school of the period.]
THEY sent me to Strange’s dancing school. Strange himself was exactly like a figure on the stage; tall and thin, he wore a powdered wig, with cannons at the ears, and a pigtail. Ruffles at the breast and wrists, white waistcoat, black silk or velvet shorts, white silk stockings, large silver buckles, and a pale blue coat completed his costume. He had a little fiddle on which he played, called a kit. My first lesson was how to walk and make a curtsey. ‘Young lady, if you visit the queen you must make three curtsies, lower and lower and lower as you approach her. So-o-o,’ leading me on and making me curtsey. ‘Now, if the queen were to ask you to eat a bit of mutton with her, what would you say?’ Every Saturday afternoon all the scholars, both boys and girls, met to practise in the public assembly rooms in George’s Street. It was a handsome large hall with benches rising like an amphitheatre. Some of the elder girls were very pretty, and danced well, so these practisings became a lounge for officers from the Castle, and other young men. We used always to go in full evening dress. We learnt the minuet de la cour, reels and country dances. Our partners used to give us gingerbread and oranges. Dancing before so many people was quite an exhibition, and I was greatly