[312]. Privy Council Record.
[313]. Mr Campbell had, in 1709, an action at law against Mungo Campbell of Netherplace, for recovery of fifty pounds which he charged for attendance upon him, and performance of the operation of lithotomy. It was represented on the other side that he had done his work with an unskilfulness which resulted in some most distressing injuries to his patient, and the Lords held that the seventeen guineas already paid was guerdon sufficient.—Fountainhall’s Decisions, ii. 510.
[314]. Dalyell’s Musical Memoirs of Scotland, p. 132.
[315]. Edinburgh Evening Courant.
[316]. Edinburgh Evening Courant, December 30, 1725.
[317]. Edinburgh Evening Courant.
[318]. From a description of the presbytery of Penpont, App. to Symson’s History of Galloway. Edin. 1823.
[319]. A fairy legend connected with the Dow Loch, and illustrating the superstitious feeling with which it was regarded, has been communicated by a friend:
‘The farmer of Auchen Naight, near the Dow Loch, was not in opulent circumstances. One day, during the pressure of some unusual calamity, he noticed, to his surprise, a cow browsing tranquilly by the side of the lake, and, on nearer inspection, found it to be a beautiful animal of large size, and perfectly white. She allowed herself to be driven home by him without resistance, and soon commended herself greatly to his wife by her tameness and exceeding opulence in milk. The result of her good qualities, and also her fruitfulness, was that a blessing seemed to have come with her to his house. He became rich in the possession of a herd of twenty fine cattle, all descended from the original White Cow.
‘After some years had elapsed, and all his other cattle had been used up, the goodman had to consider how he was to provide a winter’s “mart” for his family—that is, a bullock to be killed and salted according to the then universal practice of the country. Should it be the mother or one of her comely daughters? The former was still in fine condition, highly suitable for the purpose; but then the feeling connected with her—should they sacrifice in this manner the source of all their good-fortune? A consideration that she might fail in health, and be lost to them, determined them to make her the mart of the year. It is said that, on the morning which was to be her last, she shewed the usual affection to her mistress, who came to bid her a mournful farewell; but when the butcher approached with his rope and axe, she suddenly tore up the stake, and broke away from the byre, followed by the whole of her progeny. The astonished goodman and his wife were only in time to see the herd, in which their wealth consisted, plunge into the waters of the Dow Loch, from which they never re-emerged.’