While staying at ——, in the parish of W——, I discovered that a standard, borne by the Covenanters at Bothwell Bridge, was still to be seen at the farm of Westcroft. Being very desirous of viewing this interesting relic, I set off one fine morning in the hope of obtaining a glimpse of the time-honoured banner. On reaching the village of H——, which lay on my way, I observed a very portly-looking woman standing by the side of the road, apparently enjoying the grateful breeze, as she looked east and then west, evidently in search of something amusing or exciting. Being now somewhat at a loss in what direction to turn my steps, I crossed over to where she was standing, in the expectation of obtaining from her the requisite information, when the following dialogue ensued:—
"Would you be so kind as to tell me the way to Westcroft?"
"That I will. I'll just go wi' you a step or two and show you the farm itsel'. But what are ye wanting at Westcroft, if I may ask the question?"
"I wish to see Mr. Anderson, as I understand he has got a standard that was borne at Bothwell Bridge."
"He has that—he has that; but it's often away frae hame, ta'en to Glasgow and the like, for ye see it's something to say, a body has seen the like o' that."
"From what I have heard, this seems to have been a great part of the country for the Covenanters to take refuge in."
"'Deed an' it was, but for my part I dinna ken much aboot them; my brother, again, was a great antiquarian, and rale ta'en up about these auld affairs."
"Does he live near here?"
"Oh! mam, he's dead;" and after a short pause added, "Now, you see that white house forenent the road?"
"Yes."