The appointed day arrived, and so did the guests too; and although the invitations had only extended to the men, yet did their wives, like considerate folks as they always are, reflect that a dying man cannot have all his wits about him, and had any one but taken the trouble to remind him that there were such things as angels even in this world, they would no doubt have been included, and with that view of the case they considered it their duty to give their aid in the mournful ceremony.
The duties of the day at length began as was usual on those days, by—
"One-mile prayers and half-mile graces,"
to which the assembled multitude impatiently listened with their
"Toom wames and lang wry faces."
That ceremony over, they proceeded with all due diligence to honour the last request of the departed laird.
The droves of bullocks, sheep, and turkeys, which had been sacrificed for the occasion, were served up at mid-day, and as every description of foreign and British wines, spirits, and ales flowed in pailfuls, the executors indulged in the very reasonable expectation that the whole party would be sufficiently glorious to authorize their proceeding with their last duty so as to have it over before dark: but they had grossly miscalculated the capacities of their guests, for even at dusk when they considered themselves compelled to put the procession in motion at all hazards, it was found that many of them were not more than "half seas over."
The distance from Abbots-Haugh to the dormitory of the parish-church is nearly two miles, the first half of the road runs still between two broad deep ditches which convey the drainings of these lowlands into the river; the other half is now changed by the intersection of the great canal, but an avenue formed by two quick-set hedge-rows still marks its former line.
Doctor Mac Adam had not in those days begun to disturb the bowels of the harmless earth, by digging for stones wherewith to deface its surface, so that the roads were perfect evergreens, (when nobody travelled upon them,) but at the period I speak of, a series of wet weather and perpetual use had converted them into a sort of hodge-podge, which contributed nothing towards maintaining the gravity of the unsteady multitude now in motion, so that although the hearse started with some five or six hundred followers, all faithful and honest in their purpose to see the end of the ceremony, there were not above as many dozens who succeeded in following it into the church-yard, which it reached about midnight. These few however went on in the discharge of their duty and proceeded to remove the coffin from the hearse to its intended receptacle, but to their utter consternation there was no longer a coffin or a corpse there!
Tam O'Shanter lived a generation later than the period of my history, and I believe that there were few Scotchmen even in his days who were altogether free from supernatural dread however well primed with whiskey; but certain it is, that on this occasion every bonnet that was not on a bald head rose an inch or two higher, and many of them were pitched off altogether, as they began to reason (where reason there was none) as to the probable flight of the coffin; and though they were unanimously of opinion that it had gone the Lord knows where, yet they at last agreed that it was nevertheless a duty they owed the deceased to go back to Abbots-Haugh and inquire whether the laird had not returned. They accordingly provided themselves with lanterns, and examined all parts of the road on their way back, which was easily traced by the sleeping and besotted persons of the funeral party which formed a continuous link from the one place to the other—some lying in the road—some stuck fast in the hedges, but the majority three parts drowned in the ditches. When our return party arrived near the site of the present distillery, which happened to be the deepest part of the way, they heard something floundering at a frightful rate at the edge of a pool of water on the road side, and which, on examination, proved to be a huge old woman who was in the habit of supplying the farmers in that part of the country with loaf bread for their Sunday's breakfasts; she was holding on fiercely by what appeared to be the stump of a tree, while her nether end was immersed in the water, but when they went to pull her out, they found to their delight and astonishment that she was actually holding on by the end of the lost coffin, which had fallen at the edge of the pool. Old Nelly could give no information as to how it got there, she had some recollection of having been shoved into the hearse at first starting, but knew nothing more until she found herself up to her oxters in the water, holding fast by something—that she had bawled until she was hoarse, and had now nothing but a kick left to tell the passers by that a poor creature was perishing. She had most probably been reposing on the coffin as a place of rest, and been jolted a step beyond it when the two fell out.