II. REMINISCENCES.
Fifty years ago, and for many a long year thereafter, there were no shorthorns in the north. There were few turnips grown, and few cattle fed. The great firm of the Williamsons, who rented St John's Wells, Bethelnie, and Easter Crichie; James Allardyce of Boyndsmill; the Harveys of Beidlestone and Danestone, and a few others, were almost the only parties who attempted the feeding of cattle. Mr Harvey of Ardo, who was then tenant of Danestone, died only the other day, aged ninety. Messrs Williamson and Reid were the great Aberdeen butchers at that period, and the feeders had either to sell to them or send their cattle on to Barnet Fair on their own account, or in the hands of the jobber. The journey occupied a month, and hay was their food. The cattle stood the road best upon hay, and it was surprising how fresh and sound the drovers took them up. Disease was unknown; the lung disease, the foot-and-mouth disease, are comparatively recent importations.
I was in the lean-cattle trade when foot-and-mouth disease first broke out, and got a sad fright when I came up to Falkirk and found my drove affected. When it got into a drove on their transit, the loss was heavy. At that time the cattle were not made more than half fat, else they could never have performed their journeys.
I was well acquainted with the Messrs Williamson, and, when a boy, was the guest of the late George Williamson, St John's Wells; of the late James Williamson, Bethelnie; and of William Williamson, Easter Crichie. George Williamson was a great wit, and many are the anecdotes I have heard him tell. One of these I recollect. He was passing through Perth with a large drove of cattle, the bells were ringing a merry peal for the peace—St John's Wells said it was a sorrowful peal to him, for it cost him £4000. He told that the Messrs Williamson and Reid came to buy a lot of cattle at Bethelnie, and they were not like to agree, when Bethelnie's grieve volunteered the statement—much to the chagrin of James Williamson, but to the delight of Messrs Williamson and Reid—that there were turnips to put over to-morrow and no longer. Messrs Williamson and Reid did not advance their offer under these circumstances.
James Williamson was a smarter man in some respects than George; he had great taste as a farmer, but lacked the wit of his brother; while William of Easter Crichie, St John's Wells' eldest son, and a member of the great firm, took matters more coolly than either, but was a capital judge, and a good buyer of drove and store cattle. They have all gone to their rest, but have left a name behind them which will not soon be forgotten in Aberdeenshire. As a firm they were the largest cattle-dealers in Scotland of their day. William Williamson was most hospitable, and many were the happy evenings I have spent at Easter Crichie. It was a great treat to hear him when he became eloquent upon the Haycocks, the great Leicestershire graziers, and the bullock he bought from Mr Harvey and sold to Mr Haycock that gained the prize against all comers at Smithfield. The Williamsons were the largest buyers in spring, not only in Aberdeenshire and the north, but in Forfar and Fife, shires. At one time they had little opposition in the spring trade, and old St John's Wells' advice to the members of the firm, when they went to Forfar and Fife, was to "bid little and lie far back." The Williamsons generally brought down from Fifeshire on their spring visits a lot of the best Fife cows, and no doubt their blood are in many of the Aberdeen cattle to this day. The Williamsons also bought largely at the Falkirk Trysts. Although they had the spring trade mostly to themselves, it must not be supposed that the summer trade was equally in their hands. For a time, however, it was doubtful if they would not concentrate the whole business in their own firm; as when they had heavy stocks on hand, and prices showed a downward tendency, they adopted the daring expedient of buying up almost all the cattle for sale, that they might become the exclusive owners. This might have succeeded so far, but it was a dangerous expedient, and could not continue; and other energetic men, both in the north and south, began to oppose them. My own father became their greatest opponent, and, though single-handed, for years conducted as large a business in summer as themselves.
Mr James Anderson, Pitcarry, who is still alive and tenant of Pitcarry, was also an extensive dealer, and sent large droves to England—a man who through life has enjoyed the respect of all classes, of great coolness, and proverbial for his rectitude. The writer was sleeping with him at Huntly the night of an Old Keith market; and in the morning Mr Anderson was in the middle of a deep discussion, when his topsman knocked at the door. On being asked what he wanted, he said he had lost four cattle. "Go and find them," was Mr Anderson's answer, and he immediately resumed the discussion. My father often told how Mr Anderson and he were at a dinner at Haddington, given by the East Lothian Farmers' Club, on the day of the cattle market, when Mr Rennie of Phantassie was chairman, and where, after dinner, a discussion arose about an Act of Parliament. Mr Anderson told them they were all wrong, and that the contents of the Act were so and so. The books were brought from the Council Chambers, when Mr Anderson was found right, and all the East Lothian gentlemen wrong. He is a very well-informed man, and has all the Acts of Parliament at his finger-ends. I was present at a Hallow Fair when a cross toll-bar was erected, and many paid the toll demanded. At last Mr Anderson came up with his drove, and having the Act of Parliament in his pocket at the time, he broke down the toll-bar and sent the keeper home to his honest calling.
But James Milner, Tillyriach, was perhaps the most remarkable among all the cattle-dealers of the time. He was a very large tall man, with tremendously big feet—a great man for dress—wore top-boots, white neckcloth, long blue coat, with all the et-ceteras, and used hair-powder. He was, withal, very clever, and had an immensity of mother-wit. He rode the best horse in the country, kept greyhounds, and galloped a horse he called the "Rattler." The rides he took with this animal are the talk of the country to this day. The Rattler was very fast, and would jump over anything. There was no end to the hares Milner killed. He was tenant not only of Tillyriach, which was at that time the property of Sir William Forbes of Craigievar, but he rented Carnaveron and other farms in the Vale of Alford. His position was good: he dined with the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. On one occasion he had Sir William Forbes to dine with him at Tillyriach, and collected all the horses, cattle, and servants from his other farms, and had them all coming as if from the yoke when Sir William arrived. Milner wanted allowances for several improvements from his landlord, and, among the rest, allowance to build, and payment for, a large dwelling-house; but he outwitted himself for once, as Sir William was afraid of the man, and refused to give any allowance whatsoever, remarking that his wealth in cattle and horses was so enormous that he might build himself in so that he would never get him out. However, Milner built an additional large dining-room at his own expense, and it being finished all but the chimney-top, he got up one summer morning very early, ordered his men and horses along with a mason to follow him, and went to William Laing, one of his sub-tenants, of whom he had a host, quietly removed a new dressed granite chimney-top which Laing had lately erected, without being detected by the inmates, and had it placed upon his room ere ever it was missed. There it remained for fifty years, until the houses at Tillyriach were taken down. Milner was very fond of a lark; he was the best possible neighbour; but if he took offence or considered himself slighted or overlooked, he would have his revenge. There was a rather troublesome neighbour who had offended Mr Milner, and of whom he could not get the better, except in the following way:—He put a large drove of cattle among his corn during the night, and was there in the morning with his appraiser to pay the damage. The damage is never in such cases estimated at the loss sustained by the owner, and a man may easily be ruined in that way. Mr Milner was the Captain Barclay of the Vale of Alford. He must have the best of everything—the best horses, the best cattle; and at the first cattle-show in the country, at Kincardine O'Neil, he gained the first prize for the best bull. He had the finest horses in the country, and it was worth something to get a "lift" of Milner's horses; and the most grievous fault his servants could commit, was allowing any other horses in the country to take as heavy loads as his.
Tillyfour and Tillyriach adjoin, and are now one farm.[2]My father was in Tillyfour, and Milner in Tillyriach. The crop was all cut by the sickle, and wonderful were the prodigies performed by some of the shearers. When the harvest came near a conclusion, there was generally a severe "kemp" between neighbours who would have "cliach" first. One season Milner had fallen much behind his Tillyfour neighbours, and it became clear that Tillyfour was to gain the victory. Milner ordered Rattler to be saddled, and he was not long in galloping with such a horse, and on such an emergency, over the length and breadth of the Vale of Alford. He collected the whole country, and cut the last standing sheaf on Tillyriach in one night. The first thing heard at Tillyfour next morning was one volley of firearms after another, which was continued through the day, with a relay of shooters, and in the very teeth of my father's people. It cost Milner a great deal of Athole-brose[3]and powder, but he did not mind trifles to gain his point. It was the custom at that time that the party who finished harvest first communicated the intelligence to his neighbours by the firing of guns.
Another anecdote or two of Milner, and I have done with him. As he was dressing at the glass one morning, at an inn in the south, and in the act of powdering his hair, and tying his white neckerchief, which he always wore on high days and holidays, James Williamson of Bethelnie said to him, "Ah! what a pretty man you are, James!" "Yes," said Milner, with an oath, "if it were not for these ugly skulks of feet of mine." He always carried large saddlebags on his horse on his journeys, well replenished with all necessary auxiliaries for a change of dress, as when he went north he had often to dine with the Highland proprietors, and Milner was not the man to go otherwise than in full dress. He took a good deal of liberty with his fellow-cattle-dealers, who were not so exact as to their wardrobes, and carried generally in their pocket only a spare shirt and a pair of stockings. Milner's traps were a great additional burden on his horse. While going north he thought proper, one morning, to fasten them on my father's horse. My father took no notice of this at the time; but falling a little behind before coming to the top of a high hill, he contrived to unloose the mouths of the bags. The cattle-dealers always dismounted at the top of a hill, and walked down, either leading or driving their horses before them to the foot. My father dismounted, put the whip to his horse, a very spirited animal, and down the hill he galloped. First one article of clothing, then another, went helter-skelter along the road for a mile, one here and one there—ruffled shirts, white neckcloths, long coats, cashmere vests, boot-tops, pomatum boxes, cotton stockings, &c. &c.—not two of them together. It took Milner a long time to collect the contents of his bags; he was very sulky during the day, and his own horse carried the saddlebags in future. On a journey in the north, his comrades proposed that he should dress himself (and he did so to some purpose), and call on a gentleman, a large owner of fine stock, but whose land-steward and the cattle were some forty miles distant from the manor-house. Mr Milner did so; was well received and hospitably entertained; and at parting the gentleman gave him a letter to his land-steward, with instructions as to the sale of his stock. Milner was very quick, and he had his doubts as to these instructions; and as from forty to fifty miles was a long journey out and returning, he became anxious to know the contents. He returned to his friends, and communicated his suspicions to them. One more daring than the others proposed that the letter should be opened; a tea-kettle was got, the water brought to the boil, the wafer put to the steam, and the letter opened. The contents read thus:—"Be sure and sell theold cows, but do not sell the bullocks upon any account." I need not say what a rage Milner was in; calling the gentleman out was the least punishment he might expect.
On one occasion he was in the south, where he bought cattle as well as in the north, and had an appointment to purchase a rare lot of cattle. James Williamson, Bethelnie, was also anxious to secure the same lot. The two were at the same inn; and after Milner went to bed, his shoes were turned out of his bedroom to be brushed. Williamson got hold of them, and had them put into a pot of water and boiled for hours. He contrived to do away with his stockings in a way I shall not mention. When Milner rose to continue his journey, he might have got the better of the loss of his stockings, but his shoes were a hopeless case, and he was obliged to defer his journey. New shoes had to be made; and as Milner's feet were so large, lasts had first to be made; and thus it took several days to get him fitted out for the road. James Williamson, meanwhile, bought the cattle and had his laugh at Milner, who reaped a share of the profits. It is now about half a century since Milner died, at a comparatively early age; but there still remains a lively impression of his person and exploits among the older residenters of the Vale of Alford.
James Allardyce of Boyndsmill, tenant of Cobairdy, was also a great farmer, but of a different stamp. He was a friend of the late Duke of Gordon, who introduced him at Court; he also always wore powder. Many were the stories he told of his journey to London, and the great personages he was introduced to there. He was the best chairman at a public meeting I ever saw; and at a public sale it was a perfect treat to hear him. He was a master of the art of pleasing, and no man could put a company into equal good-humour. He had something to say in every one's praise, and no one else could say it so well. He spoke the dialect of his own county (the kingdom of Forgue) and never affected the English language. He fed—such feeding as they got!—sixty bullocks annually, which were always sold to one or other of the dealers, and went to Barnet Fair. Cobairdy's winterers and their prices were an interesting topic of conversation every spring, as the season came round.
The great English dealers were the Armstrongs, James and Thomas, the Millers, Murphy, Robert M‘Turk, Billie Brown, John Elliot, the Carmichaels, &c. &c. The Armstrongs were from Yorkshire; they bought largely of our good beasts at Falkirk, Falkland, and Kinross. Their credit was unlimited. They paid the cattle, not with Bank of England notes, but with their own private bills; and whereas they left home without more money than was necessary to pay the expenses of their journey, they would return with hundreds of pounds. For example: they would buy a lot of cattle for £860, give their acceptance for £1000, and get the balance (£140) from the seller. At last, however, they became bankrupt, and paid 3s. per pound. My father lost £3300 by them; and a great many of the returned bills are still in my possession. Messrs John and William Thom lost about the same sum. The Bannermans of Perth lost £4000—in fact, were ruined by their loss. My father and the Thoms stood out. The Thoms lost very heavily by the Millers also. My father's losses by bad debts were fully £10,000 in all. John Thom of Uras, Stonehaven, was also one of the firm that lost heavily, and has always, to his credit, paid 20s. in the pound. It was a saying of an old friend of mine that no great breeder or great cattle-dealer ever died rich; and this has held good in the great majority of cases. John Elliot and William Brown bought largely of our Aberdeen cattle, and attended Aikey Fair as well as Falkirk. Brown, who was very clever, had raised himself from being an Irish drover. He rented a farm in the neighbourhood of Carlisle, and died a few years ago much respected. Elliot was a Carlisle man, and so were the Millers. Elliot latterly became a Smithfield salesman, but died many years ago. But Robert M‘Turk stood, in my estimation, at the top of the tree. I have known him buy seventy score of Highlanders at the October Falkirk Tryst without dismounting from his pony. I have seen seventy-five score of Galloways belonging to him in one drove passing through Carlisle to Norfolk. I have known him buy from a thousand to two thousand of our large county cattle at Falkirk, sweeping the fair of the best lots before other buyers could make up their minds to begin. He rented large grazings in Dumfriesshire, where he wintered and grazed the Highlanders, and which, I believe, his relatives still retain. He was a warm friend, and very kind to me when I was almost a boy, and on a busy day he trusted me to cull the beasts he had bought from myself. I shall never see his like again at Falkirk or any other place. I have a vivid recollection of the stout-built man upon his pony, buying his cattle by the thousand; his calm and composed demeanour was a striking contrast to the noise made by some jobbers at our fairs in even the buying of an old cow. Although plain in manner, he was a thorough gentleman, devoid of slang and equivocation. He was the Captain Barclay of Dumfriesshire, and furnished an exception to my friend's remark, for he died in independent circumstances. He paid for all his cattle ready money.
The Carmichaels were another extensive firm of English dealers; they bought largely at Falkirk, Aikey Fair, and in the north. Robert Carmichael, of Ratcliffe Farm, near Stirling, was many years appointed a judge of Highlanders at the Highland Society's shows. But we had also the Hawick Club, a set of giants—Halliburton, Scott, and Harper—a very wealthy firm; and James Scott died the other year worth seventy or eighty thousand pounds. As a company they seldom bought runts—a term by which our Aberdeen cattle were known to the English jobbers; they bought large lots of Highlanders, especially Highland heifers, in October and November; but they were open at all times, when they saw a good prospect of profit, to buy any number, or any sort. I once came through Mr Harper's hands at a bad Hallow Fair with seven score of Aberdeen runts in a way I should not like often to do.
The business of the "Club" was principally confined to the months of October and November, but individually they had large stakes in the country. James Scott was one of the largest sheep-farmers in Scotland, and one of the greatest buyers of sheep at Inverness. I could tell many anecdotes of the firm of Halliburton & Co., but I fear tiring my readers. I will, however, venture on one or two. As I have already mentioned, they were very powerful men. On one occasion Halliburton had arrived at Braemar very tired to attend the fair. He had fallen asleep on the sofa, and a thief was busy rifling his pockets, when he awoke, took hold of the thief, held him with one hand as if he had been in a vice, and handed him over to justice. It was told of James Scott, who was a very quiet reserved man, that once when he was in the Highlands he was insulted by a party of Highland gentlemen; from better it came to worse, and ended in Scott nearly killing every man of them. Halliburton was much respected, but he was a great declaimer as to prices of cattle falling when he was a purchaser. At an Amulree market he was very early on the market-ground. A soft-looking country man, well dressed, came up with thirteen very fine polled cattle, which Halliburton bought at a price thatsatisfied even himas to their cheapness. He took James Ritchie, an Aberdeen dealer, to see them. On hearing the price Ritchie was astonished. "Oh," said Halliburton, "I have often told you, James, what country men would do, but you would not believe me." The seller was very anxious to get the money, as he said he had horses to buy; but Halliburton told him horses were dangerous, and he must wait his time. He began to be suspicious that all was not right, and in a short time the seller was apprehended for stealing the cattle from Wemyss Castle. He was tried at Perth, and transported for fourteen years, and Halliburton and Ritchie had to give evidence. The judge said to Halliburton at the trial at Perth, "You surely must have known the cattle were too cheap." Halliburton answered, "My lord, the next market would have proved if they were too cheap or too dear."
The payments at Falkirk were all made through the bankers; there were always from four to six bank-tents on the muir. When I took payment for my cattle I went generally with the buyer to the bank-tent. This was merely a common tent, with a bank-office attached. The banker calculated the amount, and received the money, which he put to my credit, and after I concluded my business I got an order for the amount on Aberdeen. This avoided all risk of forged notes, &c. Strange payments were sometimes offered. On one occasion an Irishman, who appeared to have been "holding his Christmas," bought sixty horned cattle from me, the best in the fair, at £14, 14s. a-head—a long price at that time. The beasts were good, and the price was good. He presented first £70 in gold; he then took out a handkerchief, the contents of which were £100, £20, £10, £5, and £1 notes. Such a miscellaneous payment I had never seen offered, and I believe no one else had, at Falkirk or any other place. It would have been hopeless for us to attempt counting it, and Mr Salmon, agent for the Commercial Bank, took the business in hand. Looking first at the confused mass of notes, all "head and tail," and then scanning the appearance of my customer, he began his task; but with all his practice it took him a quarter of an hour to assort the payment. He threw back two £1-notes to the buyer, who got into a towering passion, and, with words that I cannot put upon paper, asked him if he thoughthewould offer forged notes. Mr Salmon meekly replied that M‘Combie might take them if he pleased, he had got nothing to do with that, but he would not. Our Irish friend then exchanged the notes, for he had no want of money. I did not even know the gentleman's name; I never saw him before, and I never, to my knowledge, saw him afterwards.
There were in such large markets as Falkirk and Hallow Fair great chances of good prices to be had at times. When cattle were selling dear, buyers from England, Wales, Ireland, and all parts of Scotland, congregated at Falkirk: they were not all judges alike, and some sellers at such a time were always sure of a good price. For the amusement of my readers, I will give a few examples. On the second day of an October Falkirk Tryst (I had sold out, as I generally did, the first day), I was standing with a dealer from the north who had forty or sixty—I think sixty—two-year-old polled stots to sell. He had just parted with a customer for 2s. 6d. a-head, having offered them at £8, 15s., and refused £8, 12s. 6d. A gentleman's land-steward came through the lot of cattle with a milk-white horse, and his eyes looked first to the right and then to the left with wonderful quickness. He asked the price of the cattle. I thought the seller's conscience a trifle lax when he asked £13, 13s. a-head. Being very young I turned my back, as I could not keep my gravity. The owner then asked what he would give. £11, 11s. was the answer. No sooner were the words out of the man's mouth than down came the clap, "They are yours." I could stand it no longer, and drew back aghast. The buyer became suspicious that all was not right; and my father, who was held in great esteem both by buyers and sellers, acted as umpire, to whom both parties referred the transaction. Being the only witness, I was closely interrogated by the umpire, the buyer, and the seller. I told the price asked and the price offered. The matter had now assumed a serious aspect. My father, after hearing the evidence, which was not denied, and the price having been fairly offered and accepted, could only decide one way. I recollect his words when he gave his decision: "Well, sir, the beasts are dear according to this market, but they are good growers, and you will soon make them worth it; my decision is, you must take them." They were paid for, and went across the ferry to Fife again. In a rising market I have seen cattle raised £1 a-head; and if the jobber does not take a price when there is a rise, and fairly in his power, he is a fool, for he will soon find out that the buyers will have no mercy upon the sellers when in their power. In all my experience, the above, in a dull day, or any other day, was the most glaring start I remember.
I never attended the fairs in Angusshire, but on one occasion Mr Thom hauled me off to Forfar market in the beginning of November, before Hallow Fair of Edinburgh. We were in partnership at the time, and bought seventy small polled stots to take to Hallow Fair, to which we had sent off two or three droves the week before. We could get but one drover, a townsman, to assist in lifting them, and had to turn drovers ourselves. We had not gone above a mile on our way to Dundee with the cattle when it came on a fearful night of rain, and got very dark. Mr Thom quarrelled with the drover—a useless creature—and sent him about his business, so that we were left alone with our seventy beasts in the dark, on a road with which we were entirely unacquainted. We went on for hours, not knowing where we were going, till at last we came to a bothy, where we asked the servants what we were to do with our charge, and if we were on the road to the ferry at Dundee. We were told, first, that we had taken the wrong road, and were miles out of our way; and second, that we might put the cattle into a field close at hand. We put the cattle up accordingly, and went to a public-house near by, which was kept by a very decent man, Edward, a cattle-dealer. We got supper, and took an hour or two in bed; and between one and two o'clock in the morning, the rain having abated and the moon risen, we started the drove and had the beasts at Dundee and across the ferry by the first boat at eight o'clock in the morning, with no assistance whatever. We now started fairly on our destination for Edinburgh, and having got food for the cattle and bread and cheese for ourselves, about three miles up the south side of the Tay we hired a sort of drover, and bent our way by Rathillet. About dark we arrived at —— (Mr Walker's), where we not only got as much turnips and straw to our beasts as they could eat, but were ourselves treated like princes by Mr Walker. He gave us the best bed in the house, would not let us go without a good breakfast in the morning, and would accept of scarcely any remuneration. We started for Lochgelly after breakfast, but Mr Thom persuaded me to turn off and take Falkland market, which was held that day, while he and the drover proceeded straight to Lochgelly with the cattle. Falkland was far out of the way, but he assured me there were plenty of horses to hire there, and that I could easily join him at Lochgelly at night. When I got to Falkland I found there were only four beasts in the market that suited our trade, which was not encouraging, as I did not want plenty of money if I could have got anything to lay it out on. I found also that Mr Thom had been mistaken about the hiring. Not a horse was to be got at any price, and I had no help but to set off on foot for Lochgelly, on a road I had never travelled. I had scarcely left Falkland when I was overtaken by a heavy rain which continued throughout my journey. I had first to climb a long steep hill for about three or four miles, and when at last I got to the public road, I found it one mass of mud, in consequence of the large coal traffic, and the heavy fall of rain. I had a deal of money with me, and as it was quite dark, I was rather uneasy about it, meeting so many miners and coal-carters under such circumstances, and in a part of the country with which I was utterly unacquainted. The road is a very long one, and with such a protracted soaking in the mud, my feet began to fail me. I at last reached my destination, however; and with considerable difficulty—for I had never been in Lochgelly before—I hunted up Mr Thom, whom I found comfortably quartered beside a good fire, with supper before him. But my troubles were not yet over. One of the servants at the place was leaving, and what was termed a "foy" was being held that night. She had collected a great number of her friends, who kept the house in an uproar the whole night. We went to bed, but could get no sleep, the row these revellers made was so great, and our bedroom door was all but broken open two or three times. Our remonstrances had no effect, and sleep being out of the question, we got up about one o'clock, hunted up our drover, and started our drove once more, although the night was as bad as could be. By about nine o'clocka.m.we arrived at Queensferry; but by this time I had strained my leg, and was unable to proceed. I was therefore left on the north side in charge of the cattle, while Mr Thom crossed to the south side to procure the necessary food for the other droves during the market. It will thus be seen that we droved the seventy cattle from Forfar market all the way to Queensferry in two days and three nights during the short day of November, going out of our way once as much as six miles. I cannot say what the distance was exactly, but it must have been at least seventy miles—a feat in cattle-droving unparalleled in my experience. After a day's rest I crossed the ferry with the cattle, assisted by the drover. The beasts were dreadfully jaded, and with difficulty reached their destination, within a mile of the market-stance. The journey had told severely upon them, and two went down immediately on reaching the field. We tried every means to stir them, but failed. They were hand-fed, and with great difficulty got to the market, where they were quickly sold, though how they were got to their destination I never learned.
At a very good Hallow Fair, I had forty small-horned Cabrach beasts and forty small polled stirks standing alongside of each other. I had been within 7s. 6d. a-head of selling them once or twice, when a stranger priced them, a very well-to-do and apparently young man. My price was £7, 7s. a-head for the eighty. He just took one look through them, and said, "Well, I shall have them, and you meet me at the Black Bull at eight o'clock, and I will pay you for them." It not being thecustom of the tradeto get all our askings, I was a little nervous about my customer, but found he was all right. I met him at the Black Bull at the hour mentioned. He was in great spirits, and paid me in Bank of England notes.
Arthur Ritchie, Bithnie, a cattle-dealer from Aberdeen, used to tell the following story: In a bad Hallow Fair, towards sunsetting, a gentleman came round and asked the price of a lot of cattle. Arthur had given him a large halter, and he got an offer which he accepted. It was a great price for the market. The buyer refused afterwards to take them, and my father was made umpire. The buyer said that a glimmer came over his eyes, and he thought them better when he offered the price. However, he got ashamed, and took the cattle. An old respected servant of my own, who assisted me for years in the buying and selling of cattle—James Elmslie, very well known here and in the south—had sold twenty beasts very well at Hallow Fair for me. There was a "buffalo" among them of the worst type—a great big "buffalo dog." The buyer, when he paid them, said, "Well, James, if they had all been like the big one, I would not have grudged you the price." "Ah, sir," said James, "you would have difficulty in getting a lot like him!" I could scarcely keep my gravity. A very grave and solemn conclusion to a sale occurred to me at Hallow Fair. I had sold twenty beasts to a very rich farmer near North Berwick, who had bought many lots from me. He had employed a marker, who had just marked nineteen out of the twenty. The buyer was joking with me about the dearness of the cattle, when, in a moment, he dropped down dead, falling on his back, and never moving or speaking more. The event created such a sensation, that no more sales were made that day.
The English dealers seldom came north except to Aikey Fair. Then we had the Armstrongs, the Millers, Murphy, and other English dealers, and it was quite a sight to witness the droves going south; but Aikey Fair has now lost its ancient glory, and is only the shadow of what it was. It was a sight I shall never witness more to see the whole hillside covered with innumerable herds of "Buchan hummlies." Mr Bruce of Millhill showed the largest lots, and stood at the top as an exhibitor. Talking of Buchan, the names of Bruce, Millhill, and Smart, Sandhole, were household words at my father's board. My father and myself have bought thousands of cattle from them; no agriculturists have ever been more respected in Buchan. Mr Bruce, perhaps, was as solid, but Smart was the more dashing man. I have never met any one who would do the same amount of business with as few words as Smart, and do it as well. As one example: He brought sixty beasts to Mintlaw market—cattle were low-priced at the time. I had the first offer of them: he asked £12, 12s. a-head. I offered £12, and we split the 12s. The whole transaction did not take up half of the time I require to write it. Mr Bruce and Mr Smart were the best judges in Buchan. We had other great exhibitors, Mr Bruce, Inverwhomrey; Mr Scott, Yokieshill; Mr Milne, Mill of Boyndie; Mr Paton, Towie; Mr Milne, Watermill, &c. Mr Mitchell, Fiddesbeg, the Browns, the Rattrays, Hay of Little Ythsie, and Wm. M‘Donald, were all extensive dealers in cattle in those days. The following anecdote of William M‘Donald was told by my father: It had been a very good September Falkirk market, and Mr John Geddes, Haddoch, who was an extensive home grazier and dealer, had a large stock of cattle on hand. M‘Donald and my father were both anxious for the chance to buy them, and pushed through their business at Falkirk as fast as possible to get to Haddoch. At that time the dealers accomplished all their journeys on horseback, and prided themselves on the fleetness of their saddle-horses. My father thought no one his match in the saddle. He reached Haddoch on Wednesday at midnight—the first cattle-market day at Falkirk being on Tuesday—but the first thing he observed on drawing near to the house, which remains on the farm to this day, although a new one has been built, was the main room lighted up. On coming nearer, he heard voices fast and loud, and one was that of M‘Donald! It was all over! M‘Donald had fairly beat M‘Combie in the chase. My father got hold of Mrs Geddes, worn-out and disappointed, and got quietly to bed; and I have often heard him tell how M‘Donald's peals of laughter rang in his ears as the punch-bowl went round, even to the dawning of the day. Neither M‘Donald nor Haddoch knew my father was in the house. He left in the morning for Clashbrae, where he bought some smaller lots from the farmer there, who was a local dealer.
A word as to M‘Donald: He was a stout-made middle-sized man, and spoke so fast over the "bowl" that no one could follow him. He had a good deal of mother-wit; and his great ambition was to be the owner of large droves of cattle. I have seen a drove belonging to him a mile and more long. Mr John Geddes was a man of high standing and great firmness of character. He wore the broad blue bonnet, with a long blue coat and clear buttons, and boot-hose, and rode a very fine cob pony with a long tail. He was of great strength of constitution, and could have sat twenty-four hours with the punch-bowl before him (it was always the bowl at Haddoch), and risen as sober as when he sat down. Such were the habits of those days. I never pass on the railway from Huntly to Rothiemay, but on casting my eye over the old house I recall the night described so graphically by my father. He and Haddoch had large transactions. After a bad October Tryst, where my father had sixteen score of Aberdeenshire cattle, and when he lost £4 a-head upon every beast, Mr Geddes returned him £70 as a luck-penny upon a large lot he had bought from him. There have few men appeared in the north of greater influence or of higher moral worth than the late Mr John Geddes of Haddoch. His landlord, the late Duke of Gordon, was proud of him, as well he might be.
It was the general custom that the dealers came to the market-ground with their cattle, and immediately before them, to the part of the market-stance where they wished them to stand. It was quite a sight to see Mr Geddes on an Old Keith market-day (Old Keith Market, like Aikey Fair, is now only a shadow of its ancient greatness), with his broad bonnet, the long blue coat, the overall stockings, and mounted on a strong bay pony with its tail to the ground, at the head of a large lot of heavy cattle. Every one made room for his cattle, as he rode before them to the upper wall; it would have been of no use to resist, as the weight of his animals would have soon cleared the road for themselves; and as soon as the large black mass of horned cattle appeared in the valley below, the cry was, "There comes Haddoch! We must clear the way, or else his cattle will soon clear it at our expense." After the first lot was stationed, another and another followed in succession, which were placed beside the others, till perhaps there were 200 altogether; the different lots being all kept completely separate for the inspection of purchasers. Mr Geddes never went south with cattle, but sold them all at home. In a bad year he once got as far south as Tillyfour with 120 cattle in November. They were at Tillyfour a night, and my father bought them in the morning, but they were about a mile on the road before the bargain was struck. No one could have seen Mr Geddes without pronouncing him a man of mark.
But the greatest dealer the county could claim, and one at the same time deeply engaged in agriculture and its interests, was Mr James Innes of Durris. Mr Innes was born at Leuchars in Morayshire; his father was Sheriff of Kincardineshire, and proprietor of Leuchars; his brother, Cosmo Innes, Esq., was Sheriff of Morayshire. The father of Mr James Innes bought the lease of the estate of Durris for ninety-nine years from the trustees of the Earl of Peterborough for £30,000 and an annual feu-duty of a few hundred pounds. Owing to some new views of the law of entail, the Duke of Gordon, the legal heir of the Earl of Peterborough, turned Mr Innes out of the estate after he had expended £95,000 in improvements, and after the case had been in court for fifteen years. Mr Innes farmed extensively, having had seven or eight farms in his own occupancy at the same time. He rode on horseback yearly to Falkirk, and bought a large lot of Highland cattle. He generally had 200 cattle, 1500 sheep, and from ten to twelve pairs of horses on his farms. Mr Innes's horses went at the top of their speed in cart and plough; they had all breeding. No standing was allowed when the horses were in harness. In a busy day in harvest, and when the horses were yoked double, you would have seen Mr Innes's horses driving in the corn at a smart gallop. The harvest-carts were wide, railed and framed on both sides, with one or two cross bearers. In a "leading" day Mr Innes was a sure hand at the fork in the stackyard, and the man on the stack and the man on the cart had to look out. Mr Innes was no trifler, and would not be trifled with; but if an accident happened he made no remarks. He did not transact business by commission, but purchased both the cattle and sheep himself. The aged West Highlanders were sent to the wood during winter; the year-old Highlanders were put into the strawyards; and the four-year-old Aberdeens were bought for stall-feeding. Black-faced wethers were sent to the low pasture and for turnip-feeding. An annual sale of cattle and letting of grass took place about the 20th May. Mr Innes was famed for growing turnips. He gained the prize of £50, given by the Highland Society for the best field of turnips in the north of Scotland, twenty acres of yellow and ten of globe turnips. Deacon Williamson's six and eight year old Aberdeen work oxen—these were not the days of quick returns in cattle—consumed them, and they went to the Greenland whale-ships at last. Mr Innes was the poor man's friend, and a kind master to his servants, but a cool determined man. Although standing almost six feet three inches in height, he was a splendid horseman; when crossing the Dee he made his horse jump into the boat with himself upon his back. He galloped as the crow flies from one farm to another, and was at the head of everything himself. He was an intimate friend of the late Lord Kennedy, Captain Barclay of Ury, Farquharson of Finzean, Davidson of Balnagask, and Cruickshank of Langley Park. He sometimes took a holiday with them; and even entered for a time into some of their frolics, when his seedtime and harvest were finished: he was quite fit to keep his own with them. He was well educated, wrote out his leases, collected his rents, could floor any one in court, and was very popular as a justice.
Mr Cruickshank of Langley Park and Mr Innes afterwards quarrelled: the quarrel originating at Blackhall. There had been a good deal of chaffing between them, which ended in a row. Cruickshank went home and wrote a challenge to Innes, and Innes went home and wrote one to Cruickshank. They met and fought at Laurencekirk: Major C. Robertson, Kindface, Invergordon, was Cruickshank's second, and Dr Hoyle, Montrose, was in attendance as surgeon. —— —— was Innes's second, and Dr Skene, Aberdeen, his surgeon. After the first fire the seconds stopped proceedings; but Mr Innes's mother had intercepted a letter, which she gave to her son after the first duel, and Mr Innes forthwith sent another challenge to Cruickshank. They fought again at Bourtreebush, half-way between Aberdeen and Stonehaven. Mr John Stewart, late in Anguston (who was a great friend of the laird of Durris) was standing with Mr Innes at the Plainstones, in Aberdeen. Mr Innes looked at the town clock, and said, "My time is up; but you will meet me at breakfast to-morrow at Durris at eight." He did not say what he was to be about. Mr William Walker, who was afterwards three years overseer to Mr Innes at Durris, tells that he thinks it was in June or July 1819 that his father's servant and himself were carting home fuel from near Bourtreebush, when they observed two carriages on the turnpike from Aberdeen driving at a furious pace. The carriages stopped in an instant within 300 yards of the inn; several gentlemen alighted and walked into the nearest field, and in a few minutes shots were twice exchanged, one party and carriage leaving twenty minutes before the other, in the direction of Stonehaven. At the second shot Mr Innes was wounded in the thigh; and it was a close shave on the other side, for Mr Innes's ball went through Mr Cruickshank's whiskers. Mr Innes, however, kept his appointment with Mr Stewart next morning. Mr Stewart said that he met him at Durris House at breakfast. He came down stairs with his wonted agility, in the best of spirits, and shook hands with him; but he seemed to tremble a little, and his hands fell downwards, and although he never mentioned the duel, Mr Stewart afterwards heard he was wounded in the groin. For the above account of the second famous duel fought between Mr Innes and Mr Cruickshank of Langley Park, I am indebted to Mr William Walker and Mr John Stewart, late of Anguston. The two were, however, great friends ever after.
I was well acquainted with Alexander Davidson, the notorious poacher and smuggler. He was a very powerful man, and his whole body was covered with hair like that of an ox. He was a favourite with many of the gentlemen, and was often sent for by them to show his feats of strength and agility. He could shoot in a direct line from Braemar to Aberdeen with very little interruption. From many of the proprietors he had permission to take a run through their property; others winked at him: from myself, then acting for my father, he had permission to go on his course. He was very polite in his askings, and put it thus: "Will you have the goodness to allow me to go through your property when I am on my annual tour? I will not poach it; I will keep the straight line, and only kill what may be on my way." I believe Davidson was true to his promise; but if he was refused permission, and if any attempt was made to entrap him, he had his revenge: he would shoot and poach on that property for days, and no one could take him. In the year 1820 Mr Innes and Mr Davidson of Balnagask gave their support to Davidson against Lord Kennedy and Mr Farquharson of Finzean, who laid a bet of £50 that Davidson would not run without clothing from Barkley Street, Stonehaven, to the gate of Inchmarlo in a given time. It was thought that Davidson's feet must fail him. At the Bridge of Banchory there was a posse of wives, with Mrs Duncan the toll-mistress at their head, ready to make an onslaught on poor Davidson. They had been hired, some at five shillings, some at ten, and the leader, Mrs Duncan, at twenty shillings, and came prepared with their aprons full of stones and other missiles, and Mrs Duncan had in addition a large knotty stick. When Davidson came in sight he saw the trap that was laid for him, and drew up for breath before he came within the enemy's reach. The fearful rush and the unearthly appearance of Davidson took his enemies by surprise; their missiles fell wide of the mark, and with a few tremendous bounds he passed the wives and the bridge. Mrs Duncan was in a towering passion because Davidson had escaped, after all her generalship, and declared, not in the most becoming language, "that it was not a man, but a beast." Davidson was safe, and reached the gate of Inchmarlo up to time, and pocketed the £50. Davidson was at last found dead on the hills, with his faithful pointer standing over him.
Captain Barclay of Ury and Mr Innes laid a heavy bet with Finzean that they would produce six better men in Durris than Finzean could do in all his estates. The men were selected, and the day was fixed; a long and strong rope was procured, which crossed the Dee, and twelve yards to each side extra, to allow the men to be tied in at regular distances from each other. At the place chosen to decide the wager the river had sloping banks on each side. Those who got the first start were sure to pull the others probably nearly through the river; the tide would then be turned, and the other party be as successful with their opponents. So matters went on several times, until it was found necessary to stop, and no decision could be given. The poor men got a proper ducking, and some of them were even in great danger of being drowned or hanged, as they were all tied into the ropes.
I was very well acquainted with the late Captain Barclay, who was the lineal descendant of the author of the 'Apology for the Quakers,' and claimant of the earldom of Monteith, and was familiarly designated "the father of the shorthorns." Though Captain Barclay remains without a national acknowledgment of his merits, no man deserved better of the farmers of Scotland; for he was their firm supporter through life in good and bad report. Captain Barclay was in many respects a remarkable man—one not to be forgotten by any one who had once met him. I have been many a day in company with him, and have the most vivid recollection of him as he examined the stock in a show-yard. Pacing along from class to class, I think I see him drawing his open hand leisurely down over his chin, and, as he met an acquaintance, saying in his deep sonorous voice, "How do you do?" laying the emphasis on the "how," and passing on. No one would have made any mistake as to Captain Barclay being a gentleman, although his dress was plain—a long green coat with velvet collar and big yellow buttons, a coloured handkerchief, long yellow cashmere vest, knee-breeches, very wide top-boots with long brown dirty tops, and plain black hat, generally pretty well worn. When at home he wore knee-breeches with patches on the knees, coarse stockings, and large shoes. Captain Barclay carried through with energy whatever he took in hand. The "Defiance" must go its twelve miles an hour including stoppages. He took a great delight in driving the "Defiance," wearing the red coat with the "Defiance" buttons; and on one occasion he drove the mail from London to Stonehaven out and out. His horses were the strongest and his fields the largest in the country. He said "he did not like a field in which the cattle could see one another every day." He put four horses in his waggons, and never sent less than 20 bolls (16 quarters) of grain to Aberdeen upon a waggon. It was a great sight to see four or five of Captain Barclay's waggons going down Marischal Street. The houses shook, the inhabitants were alarmed, and nervous people thought the houses would tumble down. Captain Barclay could not tolerate a boaster or puppy in any shape. A few years before his death he happened to be in the coffee-room, Market Street, Aberdeen, one evening along with some of his friends. A fast young man took out £20 and boasted he would run a mile in a certain time: he was not aware that Captain B. was present. The Captain covered the money, and the £40 was lodged with the stakeholder. "Now, my man," said the Captain (turning the quid of tobacco once or twice in his mouth, and taking his hand down from his nose to his chin), in his prolonged solemn tone, "we will put you to time." The race was run and lost. The Captain was walking one day in his park when he came on an intruder in the shape of an ass. He seized the donkey and threw it over the wall of the park. To his astonishment the animal was returned. The Captain pitched him over again, and again he came back. This was repeated several times, till at last the Captain went outside the wall and found that it was a gypsy that was his match. He was so much pleased with the prowess of the man, that he took him to the mansion-house of Ury, treated him to all he could eat and drink, and gave him permission to graze his donkey as often as he liked on the policies of Ury. One morning, when the Captain was driving the "Defiance," there was a plain country woman sitting behind him. A gentleman wished to deprive the woman of her seat. The Captain remonstrated with him and bade him let the poor woman alone. The stranger did not know that it was Captain Barclay, and went on from better to worse, till he told the Captain if he would stop the coach and come down he would settle the matter with him. The Captain immediately stopped the coach, saying, "I suppose I must gratify you," gave the reins to Davie Troup, and jumped down with his top-coat on. The stranger advised him to strip. "Oh no," said the Captain, "that would be troublesome." His opponent, a very strong man, rushed at him like a bull-dog. The Captain put on his guard, looked at his antagonist for a moment or two, turned the quid of tobacco once or twice in his mouth, and then gave him a blow that felled him to the ground like a log of wood. He got to his feet again, when the Captain doubled the dose. The stranger was satisfied, and said, "You must either be the devil or Captain Barclay of Ury." "I am not the former," said the Captain, "but I am the latter." A stranger would hardly at first sight have got an adequate impression of Captain Barclay's power, but his appearance grew upon you when you came close to him; you then saw his great strength. He was a very round-made man, shaped for great endurance, which was put to a severe test when, in 1809, he walked a thousand miles in a thousand hours. His man Cross, who attended him, described to me the difficulty of his task in keeping him awake. At first he had to apply the stick and the lash, and the Captain growled most hideously at him; but latterly, when he saw he was to win, he improved in strength and spirits every hour till the end. After two days' rest he went on the Walcheren expedition. When past sixty he would walk twenty or thirty miles to dinner. I could relate many interesting reminiscences of Captain Barclay, but as most of them have been published already, I have only given a few well-authenticated anecdotes, which, so far as I know, have never before appeared. He was found dead in his bed in 1854: and in him the tenant-farmers of Scotland and the poor of his own neighbourhood lost one of their best friends.
While speaking of Milner I referred to the great feats performed in those days with the sickle. I remember a Highland woman, "black Bell," who made sixteen to eighteen threaves (384 to 432 sheaves) daily in harvest of good-sized sheaves; but George Bruce, Ardgows, in the parish of Tough, could shear thirty-six threaves in a day, and bind and stook it. However incredible this may appear, it is a fact. I have seen him shearing after he was an old man; he drove the "rig" of say eighteen feet from side to side, and never lifted his hand till he had a sheaf. He used a long sickle, and drew the corn to him. I cannot describe his method properly. He was a tall, thin, wiry man, with very long arms. My father used to tell how my grandfather sent two men and two women to give George Bruce a day's shearing, and how George came with a little girl (who did little or nothing but make bands for her master), and how my grandfather asked him "if that was the way he intended to pay his debt." George replied that "he could put his four shearers on one 'rig'"—they were fully an average of the shearers in the country—"and he and the lassie would take the other." They started accordingly, and Bruce kept ahead of them throughout the day.