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theft of a considerable sum of money at a Dalkeith market. The proof seemed to the judge fully sufficient, but the jury being of a different opinion, brought in the verdict Not Proven; on which occasion, the presiding judge, when he dismissed the prisoner from the bar, informed him, in his own characteristic language, "That he had rubbit shouthers wi' the gallows that morning;" and warned him not again to appear there with a similar body of proof against him, as it seemed scarce possible he should meet with another jury who would construe it as favourably. Upon the same occasion, the prisoner's counsel, a gentleman now deceased, thought it proper also to say something to his client on the risk he had run, and the necessity of future propriety of conduct; to which the gypsey replied, to the great entertainment of all around, "That he was proven an innocent man, and that naebody had ony right to use siccan language to him."
We have much satisfaction in being enabled to relate the following characteristic anecdotes, in the words of another correspondent of the highest respectability:—
"A gang, of the name of Winters, long inhabited the wastes of Northumberland, and committed many crimes; among others, a murder upon a poor woman, with singular atrocity, for which one of them was hung in chains, near Tone-pitt, in Reedsdale. His mortal reliques having decayed, the lord of the manor has replaced them by a wooden effigy, and still maintains the gibbet. The remnant of this gang came to Scotland about fifteen years ago, and assumed the Roxburghshire name of Winterip, as they found their own something odious. They settled at a cottage within about four miles of Earlston, and became great plagues to the country, until they were secured, after a tight battle, tried before the circuit court at Jedburgh, and banished back to their native country of England. The dalesmen of Reedwater shewed great reluctance to receive these returned emigrants. After the Sunday service at a little chapel near Otterbourne, one of the squires rose, and, addressing the congregation, told them they would be accounted no longer Reedsdale men, but Reedsdale women, if they permitted this marked and atrocious family to enter their district. The people answered, that they would not permit them to come that way; and the proscribed family, hearing of the unanimous resolution to oppose their passage, went more southerly by the heads of Tyne, and I never heard more of them, but have little doubt they are all hanged.
"Will Allan, mentioned by the Reedwater Minstrel,[1] I did not know, but was well acquainted with his son, Jamie, a most excellent piper, and at one time in the household of the Northumberland family; but being an utterly unprincipled vagabond, he wearied the benevolence of all his protectors, who were numerous and powerful, and saved him from the gallows more than once. Upon one occasion, being closely pursued, when surprised in some villany, he dropped from the top of a very high wall, not without receiving a severe cut upon the fingers with a hanger from one of his pursuers, who came up at the moment he hung suspended for descent. Allan exclaimed, with minstrel pride, 'Ye hae spoiled the best pipe hand in Britain.' Latterly, he became an absolute mendicant, and I saw him refused quarters at the house of my uncle, Mr ——— at ——— (himself a most excellent Border piper.) I begged hard to have him let in, but my uncle was inexorable, alleging his depredations on former occasions. He died, I believe, in jail, at Morpeth.
"My father remembered old Jean Gordon of Yetholm, who had great sway among her tribe. She was quite a Meg Merrilies, and possessed the savage virtue of fidelity in the same perfection. Having been often hospitably received at the farm-house of
- ↑ In a note upon a preceding passage of the same poem, the author (whose name was George Rokesby) says— "Here was the rendezvous of the vagrant train of Faas, tinklers, &c. The celebrated Wull Allan frequently sojourned here, in the progress of his fishing and otter-hunting expeditions; and here often resounded the drones of his no less celebrated son, Jamie Allan, the Northumberland piper.
"A stalwart Tinkler wight was he,
An' weel could mend a pot or pan,
An' deftly Wull could thraw a flee,
An' neatly weave the willow wan';
"An' sweetly wild were Allan's strains,
An' mony a jig an' reel he blew,
Wi' merry lilts he charm'd the swains,
Wi' barbed spear the otter slew," &c.Lay of the Reedwater Minstrel.—Newcastle, 1809.