Note D, p.<? p58>.---Scottish Inns.
The courtesy of an invitation to partake a traveller's meal, or at least that of being invited to share whatever liquor the guest called for, was expected by certain old landlords in Scotland even in the youth of the author.In requital, mine host was always furnished with the news of the country, and was, probably a little of a humourist to boot.The devolution of the whole actual business and drudgery of the inn upon the poor gudewife, was very common among the Scottish Bonifaces.There was in ancient times, in the city of Edinburgh, a gentleman of good family, who condescended, in order to gain a livelihood, to become the nominal keeper of a coffeehouse, one of the first places of the kind which had been opened in the Scottish metropolis.As usual, it was entirely managed by the careful and industrious Mrs.B------; while her husband amused himself with field sports, without troubling his head about the matter.Once upon a time the premises having taken fire, the husband was met, walking up the High Street loaded with his guns and fishing-rods, and replied calmly to some one who inquired after his wife, ``that the poor woman was trying to save a parcel of crockery, and some trumpery books;'' the last being those which served her to conduct the business of the house.
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 caravan-sary 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 dryly, ``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._''
Note E, p.<? p78>.---Stirrup-Cup.
I may here mention, that the fashion of computation described in the text, was still occasionally practised in Scotland, in the author's youth.
A company, after having taken leave of their host, often went to finish the evening at the clachan or village, in ``womb of tavern.'' Their entertainer always accompanied them to take the stirrup-cup, which often occasioned a long and late revel.
The _Poculum Potatorium,_ of the valiant Baron, his blessed Bear, has a prototype at the fine old Castle of Glammis, so rich in memorials of ancient times; it is a massive beaker of silver, double gilt, moulded into the shape of a lion, and holding about an English pint of wine.The form alludes to the family name of Strathmore, which is Lyon, and, when exhibited, the cup must necessarily be emptied to the Earl's health.The author ought perhaps to be ashamed of recording that he has had the honour of swallowing the contents of the Lion; and the recollection of the feat served to suggest the story of the Bear of Bradwardine.In the family of Scott of Thirlestane (not Thirlestane in the Forest, but the place of the same name in Roxburghshire) was long preserved a cup of the same kind, in the form of a jackboot.Each guest was obliged to empty this at his departure.If the guest's name was Scott, the necessity was doubly imperative.
When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with deoch an doruis, that is, the drink at the door, or the stirrup-cup, the draught was not charged in the reckoning.On this point a learned Bailie of the town of Forfar, pronounced a very sound judgement.
A., an ale-wife in Forfar, had brewed her ``peck of malt,'' and set the liquor out of doors to cool; the cow of B., a neighbour of A., chanced to come by, and seeing the good beverage, was allured to taste it, and finally to drink it up.When A.came to take in her liquor, she found the tub empty, and from the cow's staggering and staring, so as to betray her intemperance, she easily divined the mode in which her ``browst'' had disappeared.To take vengeance on Crummie's ribs with a stick, was her first effort.The roaring of the cow brought B., her master, who remonstrated with his angry neighbour, and received in reply a demand for the value of the ale which Crummie had drunk up.B.refused payment, and was conveyed before C., the Bailie or sitting Magistrate.He heard the case patiently; and then demanded of the plaintiff A., whether the cow had sat down to her potation, or taken it standing.The plaintiff answered, she had not seen the deed committed, but she supposed the cow drank the ale standing on her feet; adding, that had she been near, she would have made her use them to some purpose.The Bailie, on this admission, solemnly adjudged the cow's drink to be _deoch an doruis_---a stirrup-cup, for which no charge could be made, without violating the ancient hospitality of Scotland.
Note F, p.<? p110>.---Black-Mail.