There were many elderly gentlemen in the author’s younger days who still held it part of the amusement of a journey “to parley with mine host,” who often resembled, in his quaint humour, mine Host of the Garter in the Merry Wives of Windsor; or Blague of the George in the Merry Devil of Edmonton. Sometimes the landlady took her share of entertaining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them due attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as on the following occasion:
A jolly dame who, not “Sixty Years Since,” kept the principal caravansary at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the honour to receive under her roof a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same profession, each having a cure of souls; be it said in passing, none of the reverend party were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner was over, the worthy senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs. Buchan whether she ever had had such a party in her house before. “Here sit I,” he said, “a placed minister of the Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, each a placed minister of the same kirk. Confess, Luckie Buchan, you never had such a party in your house before.” The question was not premised by any invitation to sit down and take a glass of wine or the like, so Mrs. B. answered drily, “Indeed, sir, I cannot just say that ever I had such a party in my house before, except once in the forty-five, when I had a Highland piper here, with his three sons, all Highland pipers; and deil a spring they could play amang them.” ↩
There is no particular mansion described under the name of Tully-Veolan; but the peculiarities of the description occur in various old Scottish seats. The House of Warrender upon Bruntsfield Links and that of Old Ravelston, belonging, the former to Sir George Warrender, the latter to Sir Alexander Keith, have both contributed several hints to the description in the text. The House of Dean, near Edinburgh, has also some points of resemblance with Tully-Veolan. The author has, however, been informed that the House of Grandtully resembles that of the Baron of Bradwardine still more than any of the above.26 ↩
Probably the old House of Traquair is as like Tully-Veolan as any surviving edifice, bears and all. The avenue of Tully-Veolan resembles that of Kenmure Castle, in Galloway. —Editor ↩
At Ravelston may be seen such a garden, which the taste of the proprietor, the author’s friend and kinsman, Sir Alexander Keith, Knight Mareschal, has judiciously preserved. That, as well as the house is, however, of smaller dimensions than the Baron of Bradwardine’s mansion and garden are presumed to have been. ↩
This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in the two last lines. ↩
I am ignorant how long the ancient and established custom of keeping fools has been disused in England. Swift writes an epitaph on the Earl of Suffolk’s fool—
Whose name was Dickie Pearce
In Scotland, the custom subsisted till late in the last century; at Glamis Castle is preserved the dress of one of the jesters, very handsome, and ornamented with many bells. It is not above thirty years since such a character stood by the sideboard of a nobleman of the first rank in Scotland, and occasionally mixed in the conversation, till he carried the joke rather too far, in making proposals to one of the young ladies of the family, and publishing the bans betwixt her and himself in the public church. ↩
“C’est des doux oreilles.” So in the edition of . “C’est des deux oreilles” is the reading in the first edition, while Messrs. Black’s edition of offers the reading “c’est d’une oreille,” which is correct. Cotgrave’s Dictionary () is quoted for “ ‘à une oreille,’ said of wine that’s excellent good.” Littré, “Vin d’une oreille = le bon vin.” A somewhat mythical explanation of the phrase is given in the Dictionary of the French Academy. —Editor ↩
After the Revolution of , and on some occasions when the spirit of the Presbyterians had been unusually animated against their opponents, the Episcopal clergymen, who were chiefly nonjurors, were exposed to be mobbed, as we should now say, or rabbled, as the phrase then went, to expiate their political heresies. But notwithstanding that the Presbyterians had the persecution in Charles II and his brother’s time to exasperate them, there was little mischief done beyond the kind of petty violence mentioned in the text. ↩
The Baron of Bradwardine. There were doubtless many brave, scholarly old Scottish gentlemen like the Baron, who “had fought the foreign loons in their own countrie.” Mr. Chambers (Illustrations of the Author of “Waverley”) mentions Col. Alexander Robertson, of the Struan family, and John Stewart of Kincardine; but the fourth Lord Forbes of Pitsligo, who was out in the Fifteen and the Forty-five, had two bears as supporters of his shield; so he, perhaps, was as like the Baron as any of his compeers. —Editor ↩
“Ben Jonson’s Tom Otter.” In
