“If it was that drunken dirt Ingles that ye mean,” said Walter, “I dinna ken what ye ca’ a man’s duty here, but it surely coudna be a duty, when my hands war tied ahint my back, to kick me i’ the wame; an’ that’s what he was doing wi’ a’ his pith, whan I gart him flee heels-ower-head like a batch o’ skins.”
Sir George MacKenzie and Dalrymple of Stair both laughed outright at this answer, and it was some time before the business could proceed. Sir George Lockhart, however, compelled them to relinquish these parts of the indictment, on account of the treatment offered to the prisoner, and the trial proceeded on the charges previously mentioned, which were found relevant. Walter was utterly confounded at the defence made for him by Sir George Lockhart. He was wont to say, “Aih but he’s a terrible clever body yon Geordie Lockie! od he kend mair about me, and mair that was in my favour, than I did mysel.”
The conclusion of this trial must be given in Walter’s own phrase. “I pretendit to be very crouse, an’ no ae bit fear’d—aha! I was unco fear’d for a’ that—I coudna swally my spittle for the hale day, an’ I fand a kind o’ foost, foost, foostin about my briskit that I coudna win aneath ava. But when the chield MacKenzie began to clink thegither the evidence against me, gude faith I thought it was a’ ower wi’ me then; I saw nae outgate, an’ lost a’ hope; mair than aince I tried to think o’ auld Maron Linton an’ the bairns, but I could think about naething, for I thought the house was heaving up i’ the tae side, and gaun to whommel a’ the judges an’ jurymen on the tap o’ me. He revertit aye to the evidence of Clerk the curate, wha had said that I had a private correspondence wi’ the whigs, an’ then he brought a’ the ither proof to bear upon that, till he made my guilt perfectly plain; an’ faith I coudna say that the chiel guessed far wrang. Then my Lord Moray, wha was head judge that day, was just gaun to address the jurymen, an’ direct them to hang me, when up gat Geordie Lockie again for the hindmost time; (he had as mony links an’ wimples in his tail as an eel that body,) an’ he argyed some point o’ law that gart them a’ glowr; at last he said, that it was hard, on a point of life an’ death, to take the report of a man that wasna present to make oath to the information he had gi’en, which might be a slander to gain some selfish end; and he prayed, for the satisfaction of the jury, that his client might be examined on that point, (he ca’d me aye a client, a name that I abhorred, for I didna ken the meaning o’t, but I trowed it meant nae good,) for, says he, he has answered very freely, and much to the point, a’ that ye hae speered at him. I was just considering what I should say, but I could get nought to say ava, when I was startit wi’ a loud Hem! just amaist at my elbow. I naturally liftit up my een, very stupit like, I dare say, to see what it was; and wha was it but the queer Highland chap Roy Macpherson, makin’ sic faces to me as ye never saw. I thought he was wanting to mak me recollect something, but what it was I coudna tell. I was dumfoundered sae, that when the judge put the question to me about Clerk I never answered a word, for I was forefoughten wi’ another thought. At length I mindit the daft advice that honest Macpherson gae me at parting with me in Dumfries, which was sic a ridiculous advice I had never thought o’t mair. But now, thinks I to mysel, things canna be muckle waur wi’ me; the scrow’s come fairly to the neb o’ the miresnipe now; an’ never had I better reason to be angry than at the base curate whom I had fed an’ clad sae aften. Sae I musters a’ my wrath up into my face, and when the judge, or the advocate, put the question again, I never heedit what it was, but set up my birses an’ spak to them as they had been my herd callants. What the deil are ye a’ after? quoth I. G‑‑d d‑‑n the hale pack o’ ye, do ye think that auld Wat Laidlaw’s a whig, or wad do aught against his king, or the laws o’ his country? They ken little about him that say sae! I aince fought twa o’ the best o’ them armed wi’ swords, an’ wi’ nought but my staff I laid them baith flat at my feet; an’ had I ony twa o’ ye on the Chapelhope-flow thegither, if ye dared to say that I was a whig, or a traitor to my king, I wad let ye find strength o’ arm for aince. Here the wily chap Geordie Lockie stappit me in great agitation, and beggit me to keep my temper, and answer his lordship to the point, what defence I had to make against the information given by Clerk the curate? He be d‑‑d! said I: he kens the contrair o’ that ower weel; but he kend he wad be master an’ mair when he gat me away frae about the town. He wantit to wheedle my wife out o’ ilk thing she had, an’ to kiss my daughter too, if he could. Vile brock! gin I war hame at him I’ll dad his head to the wa’; ay, an’ ony twa o’ ye forby, quo’ I, raising my voice, an’ shaking that neive at them,—ony twa o’ ye that dare set up your faces an’ say that I’m a whig or a rebel.—A wheen d‑‑d rascals, that dinna ken what ye wad be at!
“The hale court was thunnerstruck, an’ glowred at ane anither like wullcats. I gae a sklent wi’ my ee to Daniel Roy Macpherson, an’ he was leaned ower the back o’ the seat, and fa’n into a kink o’ laughing. The hale crowd ahint us got up wi’ a great hurra! an’ clappit their hands, an’ I thought the fock war a’ gaen mad thegither. As soon as there was a wee quiet, my lord the Earl o’ Moray he speaks across to Clavers, an’ he says: ‘This winna do, my lord; that carl’s nae whig, nor naething akin to them. Gin that be nae a sound worthy man, I never saw ane, nor heard ane speak.’ An’ wi’ that the croud shoutit an’ clappit their hands again. I sat hinging my head then, an’ looking very blate, but I was unco massy for a’ that. They then spak amang themsels for five or sax minents, and they cried on my master Drumelzier, an’ he gaed up an’ crackit wi’ them too; an’ at last the judge tauld me, that the prosecution against me was drappit for the present, an’ that gin I could raise security for twa thousand merks, to appear again if cited before the first of June, 1686, I was at liberty to go about my business. I thankit his lordship; but thinks I to mysel, ye’re a wheen queer chaps! Ye shoot fock for praying an’ reading the Bible, an’ whan ane curses an’ damns ye, ye ca’ him a true honest man! I wish ye be nae the deil’s bairns, the halewort o’ ye! Drumelzier an’ Lockie cam security for me at aince, an’ away I sets for hame, as weel satisfied as ever I was a’ my life, that I mind o’.
“Weel, when I came out to the closs at the back o’ the prison, a’ the fock croudit about me; an’ he shook hands wi’ me; an’ he shook hands wi’ me; an’ the young chaps they hurra’d an’ waved their caps, an’ cried out, Ettrick Forest for ever!—Auld Braid-Bonnet for ever,—hurra! An’ I cam up the Lawn-Market, an’ down the Bow, wi’ sic an army at my tail, as I had been gaun away to fight Boddell-Brigg owre again.
“I now begoud to think it wad be as weel to gie the lads the slip, for my army was gathering like a snaw-ba’, an’ I little wist how sic a hobbleshue might end; sae I jinkit into Geordie Allan’s, at the West-Port, where I had often been afore, when selling my eild ewes and chasers; an’ I whispered to them to keep out my sodgers, for there were too many of them for the house to haud; but they not perfectly understanding my jest, I was not well entered ere I heard a loud altercation at the head o’ the stair, an’ the very first aith that I heard I knew it to be Macpherson.”
“Py Cot’s preath, put she shall pe coing in; were not she her friend and couhnsel?”
“You his counsel? A serjeant of dragoons his counsel? That winna do. He charged that nae sodgers should get in. Get aff wi’ your Hieland impudence—brazen-faced thief!”
“Fat? Tief? Cot t‑‑n y’ mack-en dhu na bhaish! M’Leadle!—Trocho!—Hollo! Cresorst!”