The first of October, 1774, arrived at last; and, for the first time in my life, I felt myself at liberty. I worked a few weeks with my old master, and then set off to spend the winter at Cherryburn. There I had plenty of work to do, chiefly from Thomas Angus, printer, Newcastle. I continued there, employed by him and others, till the summer of 1776. This was a time of great enjoyment, for the charms of the country were highly relished by me, and after so long an almost absence from it, gave even that relish a zest which I have not words to describe. I continued to execute wood cuts and other jobs, but often rambled about among my old neighbours, and became more and more attached to them, as well as to the country. In the storms of winter, I joined the Nimrods as of old. In spring and summer, my favourite sport of angling was pretty closely followed up. About Christmas, as I had done before when a boy, I went with my father to a distance to collect the money due to him for coals. In these rounds, I had the opportunity of witnessing the kindness and hospitality of the people. The countenances of all, both high and low, beamed with cheerfulness; and this was heightened everywhere by the music of old tunes, from the well-known, exhilarating, wild notes of the Northumberland pipes, amidst the buzz occasioned by “foulpleughs” (morrice or sword dancers) from various parts of the country. This altogether left an impression on my mind which the cares of the world have never effaced from it. The gentry, the farmers, and even the working people, of that day had their Christmas home-brewed ale, made only from malt and hops. This was before the pernicious use of chemical compounds was known, or agricultural improvements had quickened the eyes of landlords, banished many small farmers, soured their countenances, and altered for the worse the characters of the larger ones that remained.
Having all my life, at home, at school, and during my apprenticeship, lived under perpetual restraints, when I thus felt myself at liberty, I became, as I suppose, like a bird which had escaped from its cage. Even angling, of which I was so fond, and of which I thought I never could tire, became rather dull when I found I could take as much of it as I pleased. While I was pursuing this sport on a hot day in June, I gave it up; and, laying down my rod awhile, I then tied it up and walked home. Having resolved to see more of the country, I requested my mother to put me up some shirts, &c., and I told her I was going to see my uncle (her brother) in Cumberland. She soon complied with my request, amidst expressions of fear for my safety; showing the natural feelings of a good mother. After sewing three guineas in my breeches waistband, I set off that afternoon, and walked to Haydon Bridge. There I visited an old acquaintance, Thomas Spence, then a teacher in Haydon Bridge school, with whom I was a welcome guest, and stopped two days. Leave of absence from school having been given to him, I rambled with him over the neighbourhood, and visited everything worth notice. When I departed, he accompanied me on the road nearly to Haltwhistle. After this, I met with little to attract notice except Naworth Castle; and, when I left it, and was proceeding across the country, I lost my way by following paths which led only to holes that had been made by digging peats and turf, and did not reach my uncle’s house at Ainstable till late in the evening. I remained at Ainstable about a week, during which time I rambled about the neighbourhood, visited my friends at Kirkoswald and elsewhere, and spent what time I could spare in fishing for trout in the Croglin.
After I had seen Armanthwaite and Penrith, I began to think of moving further abroad; and my cousin having occasion to go to Carlisle, I went with him there, where we parted. I wandered about the old city; and, in the afternoon, looked into the shop of a watchmaker, to whom I was known as having been employed, by my master, to engrave many clock faces for him, during my apprenticeship. While I was in his shop, in came a man—a kind of scamp—of the name of Graham, who asked me what road I was going? “To Scotland,” I replied. “So am I,” said he; “and, if you can keep foot with me, I will be glad of your company.” We had no sooner set off, than I found he was a vapouring fop who was very vain of his great prowess as a pedestrian. I could soon see that he wanted to walk me off my foot; but, having been long practised in that way, he found himself mistaken, and long before we reached Longtown, he had called in at several public houses for refreshment, and invited me to do the same. I, however, was not thirsty, and not being used to drink, I sat on the seats at the doors until he came out. He kept on in this way till we reached Langholm, when he surveyed me with an attentive eye, but said nothing.
At Langholm, my landlord, who was a Cumberland man and knew my relatives there, was very kind to me; and, among many other matters concerning them, told me that my cousin who had accompanied me to Carlisle had won nine belts in his wrestling matches in that county. From Langholm, I set off to Hawick and Selkirk, and from the latter place, next morning, by Dalkeith, to Edinburgh. I had been, in this short tramp, particularly charmed with the border scenery; the roads, in places, twined about the bottoms of the hills, which were beautifully green, like velvet, spotted over with white sheep, which grazed on their sides, watched by the peaceful shepherd and his dog. I could not help depicturing in my mind the change which had taken place, and comparing it with the times of old that had passed away, and in inwardly rejoicing at the happy reverse. It is horrid to contemplate the ferocious battles of that day, between men descended from the same stock, and bearing the same names on both sides of the border, only divided from each other by a river, a rivulet, a burn, or a stripe of ground;—that they should have been, at the nod of their chieftains, called out to the wild foray by the slogan horn, or the shrill notes of the bugle; that they should have been led to meet and slaughter each other, to manure the ground with their blood, amidst the clash of arms and the thrilling music of the pipes, which helped to excite them on to close their eyes in death. These transactions, which are handed down to their descendants of the present generation in traditionary tales, and kept in remembrance by the songs and tunes of old times, serve now only as food for reflection or amusement.
On entering Edinburgh, having been recommended to the George Inn, Bristoport, I halted there; but, being quite unacquainted with the customs of living in such places, I knew not what to do, or how to conduct myself. I, however, called for a pint of beer,—and I think it was the first I ever called for in my life,—when, lo! a good-looking girl, bare-footed and bare-legged, entered with a pewter pot, almost the size of a half leg of a boot. This I thought I could not empty in a week. As I found I could not remain in this place, I sought for another, and luckily fell in with an old Newcastle acquaintance; and to her I stated my case, went with her, and felt quite at home in her house. After I had seen as much of “Auld Reekie” as I could, and been lost in admiration at the grandeur of its situation, and of its old buildings, I next day called upon Hector Gavin, an engraver, in Parliament Close. This kind man—a stranger to me—after a bit of chat about the arts, &c., threw by his tools, and was quite at my service. The warmth of his kindness I never can forget. He took me all over Edinburgh, and gave me a history and explanation of everything he thought worthy of notice. Having parted from him with his best and warmest wishes, I rose early on the next morning and walked to Glasgow. After leaving my bundle at an inn, to which I had been recommended, I took a ramble through the city. There I fell in, by chance, with an old acquaintance, and who I supposed was dead long ago. He was not like me; he could drink plenty; so that I was at no loss what to do at this inn, as I had been in Edinburgh. He called upon me next morning with a well-informed man, when they showed me everything they thought worthy of notice in Glasgow, which, though a large city, containing many handsome buildings, I was not so charmed with as I had been with Edinburgh.
From Glasgow, I set off to Dumbarton; and, on my way, took as good a survey of the country, and whatever was new to me, as I could. My landlord at Dumbarton had seen a deal of the world, either as a soldier or a gentleman’s servant, and was very communicative; and I think I spent the next day with him, in walking about and viewing everything that he could think of that might please or entertain me. After leaving him, I wished much to see the printing at the cotton works, and the print fields, as they were called, on the river Leven, near Dumbarton. To these, however, I could not get admission; so I kept passing onward, up the Leven, till Smollett’s monument, near the side of it, arrested my attention. There I stopped, for I had read Smollett’s works, and almost adored him as an author. On the pedestal of the monument, was a long Latin inscription, which I was endeavouring to translate, but was puzzled to make out; having never looked into a Latin book since I had left school; and, for the first time, I felt mortified at not having done so. While I was thus employed, up came a “lish,” clever young man, a Highlander, smartly dressed in the garb of his country. He jumped down beside me, and we together made out the translation. When this was done, on learning from me that my sole object was to see Scotland, he pressed me to accompany him to some place or other, the name of which I do not now remember. We, however, walked a long way toge............