Sunday, 15 December 2019

David Ramsay - The Royal Clock-maker, Inventor, Mystic?

   There is a question mark in the title both because I am not absolutely sure that the subject of this article was a native of Angus and also because his whole surviving legacy is a matter of intrigue. We can begin with a bit of definite fiction. Sir Walter Scott's novel The Fortunes of Nigel, published 1822, is set two hundred years earlier. Early in the book we encounter a watchmaker near Temple Bar, London, David Ramsay, who lives there with his daughter, Margaret. Ramsay is described as 'an ingenious, but whimsical and self-opinionated mechanic, much devoted to abstract studies'. He was clock-maker to the king, James I (and VI), and a native of Dalkeith, near Edinburgh.

   


  

Clocks, Inventions, Occult Treasure-Seeking 


   The royal clockmaker Ramsay was a real figure, A Scot resident in London, though he was almost certainly not from Dalkeith. The Dalkieth connection was invented by Scot to link the character with the eminent Ramsays of Dalhousie. More likely by far is that this Scottish craftsman was a scion of the family who had connections in Dundee and Auchterhouse. Richard Bissell Prosser's article in the Dictionary of National Biography perpetuates the spurious Dalhousie connection but contains much of interest. John Smith's book Old Scottish Clockmakers (1921) confirms that the London Ramsay was a Dundonian.

   David Ramsay was royal clockmaker to kings James I and Charles I in succession and was also page of the bedchamber and groom of the privy chamber, and so a man of some standing in court circles as well as a 'mere' master craftsman. His interests in science apparently spread far and wide. Between 1618 and 1638 David obtained eight patents for various inventions related to ploughing soil, fertilising the earth, raising water by fire, refining metals, propelling ships, plus other things.


    Even more fascinating is his connection with the darker sciences.  The astrologer William Lilly (1602-1681), who seems to have been a kindred spirit, relates in his posthumously published Life and Times (1715) that Ramsay and others conducted an investigation in Westminster Abbey in 1634, using a diving rod to search for concealed treasure. Ramsay actually got permission for his exploration of the abbey from Dean Witham (who was also Bishop of Lincoln at the time.)The supernatural efforts were aided by the use of 'Mosaical' (divining) rods, employed by a person named John Scott. One of the participants described the event:


I was desired to join with him [Ramsay], unto which I consented.  One winter's night, Davy Ramsay, with several gentlemen, myself, and Scott, entered the cloisters.  We played the hazel-rods round about the cloisters.  Upon the west end of the cloisters the rods turned one over another, an argument that the treasure was there.  The labourers digged at least six feet deep, and then we met with a coffin; but which, in regard it was not heavy, we did not open, which we afterwards much repented.

From the cloisters we went into the abbey church, where upon a sudden (there being no wind when we began), so fierce and so high, so blustering  and loud a wind did rise, that we nearly believed the west end of the church would have fallen upon us.  Our rods would not move at all; the candles and torches also, but one, were extinguished, or burned very dimly.  John Scott, my partner, was amazed, looked pale, knew not what to think or do, until I gave directions and command to dismiss the demons; which, when done, all was quiet again, and each man returned to his lodging late, about twelve o' clock at night.  I could never since be induced to join with any such like actions.
The true miscarriage of the business was by reason of so many people being present at the operation; for there was about thirty, some laughing, others deriding us; so that, if we had not dismissed the demons, I believe the lost part of the abbey church would have been blown down.  Secrecy and intelligent operators, with a strong confidence and knowledge of what they are doing, are best for the work.

 Ramsay was not put off.  The state papers in the following year mention his treasure seeking proclivities (and there is an earlier mention in 1628 also).  The politician and lawyer Sir Edward Coke also humorously mentioned the Scot seeking the Philosopher's Stone in a letter to Secretary of State Windebanke.

  


William Lilly. Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=914262

  Despite his status Ramsay fell into poverty and, in 1641 was, was in prison for debt.  This difficulty is referred to by his son William Ramsay at the beginning of his book Vox Stellarum ('The Voice of the Stars'):
It's true your carelessness in laying up while the sun shone for the tempests of a stormy day hath given occasion to some inferior-spirited people not to value you according to what you are by nature and in yourself, for such look not on a man longer than he is in prosperity, esteeming none but for their wealth, nor wisdom, power, nor virtue.  
   It appears that the elder Ramsay was still alive on 17th January 1653 for his son wrote the postscript of his book 'from my study in my father's house in Holburn, within two doors of the Wounded Hart, near the King's Gate'. David Ramsay may have died shortly afterwards.


Other Ramsays in Dundee, Auchterhouse and Tealing



   Andrew Jervise (Memorials of Angus and the Mearns, vol. 2, p. 122) pointed out that the Ramsays were first noted in Lothian during the reign of King David I in the early 12th century.  William Ramsay of London, whom we shall encounter again below,  stated in his book Astrologia Restorata (1653) that the Auchterhouse Ramsays, his own branch, was the oldest of the name and that they 'flourished in great glory for fifteen hundred years, till these later days,' adding that they came to this country from Egypt, where the word Ramsay signifies joy and delight.   The first record we have of Angus members of the family is in 1296 when a Thomas de Rammseye of Forfarshire paid homage to King Edward I in Berwick-upon-Tweed.

   Next mentioned is Sir John Ramsay of Auchterhouse who is mentioned as an ally of Sir William Wallace when the latter landed back in Scotland at Montrose.  Ramsays owned Auchterhouse until the early part of the 15th century.  Sir Malcom Ramsay was hereditary Sheriff of Forfarshire and his only child Isabella married Walter Ogilvy and brought the lands into that family.  






   Of the Dundee Ramsays, one conspicuous member was Patrick Ramsay, burgess of Dundee, executed in Edinburgh in 1567 for importing false money. It is recorded that his 'heid, armis and leggis' were carried by a boy from Edinburgh for display in Dundee and other burghs, for which the laddie received 24 shillings.

   His namesake and probable relative Patrick Ramsay
smith and gun-maker, was given charge of the town clock of Dundee in the church of St Mary in 1588 and had his stipend enlarged to £20 in 1604; it was later doubled from this amount. After a period away from the burgh he wrote to the burgh council on 27th June 1609:
Unto your worships humblie meanis your daylie servitour Patrick Ramsay, Smith. 
That quhair it is not unknown to your worships that I, after returning to this town when it pleased  God to withdraw his visiting hand [a reference to the plague in the town] therefrom, at your worship's desire, was moved to undertake my auld service in attending upon the knok, at which times your worships promised to have an consideration of my great pains quhilk I was to sustain in the frequent visiting of the said knok and continued reparation of her, seeing now she is all broken and worn and decayed in all the pairts thereof. Upon expectation thereof I have continually attended with my sons and servants since, and thereby have been abstracted from my labour which I should sustain my wife and bairns.
Therefore, now, I have taken occasion to remember your worships humbly, that order may be taken how I may be payed for my bypast service, and in time coming, gif your worships will give me reasonable augmentation to my former fee, I will bind and obligemyself to sustain the said knok and preserve her from decay and mend and repair her upon my own expense during my life, quhilk will be no little profit to the commoun weill.


   Of the two sons of this Patrick, Silvester Ramsay was first a teacher in the grammar school, but then probably followed the family trade. His brother, John Ramsay, certainly did and in 1646 stepped down as the keeper of the clock due to infirmity in old age.

   The historian Andrew Jervise (Epitaphs in the North-East of Scotland, I, p. 341) believed he may have found a member of the craftsman branch of the Ramsays via a much defaced epitaph in the Howff graveyard in Dundee. The inscription was to a goldsmith who died, aged around 70, in the year 1603. Only the last two letters of the surname - AY - were visible, though Jervise made out an eagle on the stone, which bird had an association with the Ramsay family.

https://canmore.org.uk/collection/789850

   The watchmaker connection of the Ramsay family is evidenced much later in Angus in a tombstone in Inverarity.  Here there is a gravestone dated 1772, with the name Margaret Ramsay.  The stone contains a shield which has details of tools belonging to the watchmaker trade. The stone has the following inscription:


This stone was erected by DAVID/RAMSAY Watchmaker in Forfar in/Memory of his sister MARGARET/RAMSAY who died the twentieth/Day of January one 1000 seven/hundred and seventy two years/aged twenty one year two months/and two weeks/The good thou hast a mind to do/Let it be quickly done/We every day example see/How soon our glass is run'.

   A prominent non clock-making Ramsay was Archdeacon John Ramsay (1569- 1618), who became minister at Tealing in 1590. His splendid tomb survives in the kirk there, depicting him as a bearded ecclesiastic (half-life size) reading at a desk or lectern. It was erected by his widow, Elizabeth Kinloch.


  

The Auld Steeple, St Mary's, Dundee, whose 'knok' or clock was in the care of the Ramsay family for a time.

Further Reading


Andrew Jervise, Epitaphs and Inscriptions from Burial Grounds and Old Buildings in the North-East of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1875).




Monday, 9 December 2019

Yule and Hogmanay Revels,Traditions, Fishy Tails


Guisers and Revels at Hogmanay



  Most of the old Scottish customs regarding Christmas and Hogmanay have faded into nothingness.  At one time guisers were as common at New Year as they were at Halloween.  For instance, Jean Rodger noted in her book Lang Strang (Forfar, 1948) that the Hogmanay guisers in Forfar used to go from door to door asking, 'Onything for the guisers?'  The standard answer from householders was, 'Nothing but a red-hot poker.'  Despite this, they were invited in for refreshment.






   The Montrose, Arbroath and Brechin Review noted on 22nd December 1933 that many of the previously upheld New Year customs in Montrose were fading away.  It used to be a different story:

Among the broad-loom weavers the 'first fit' landed at a neighbour's house, produced his bottle a quantity of contents of which a quantity of the contents were consumed; then came the return dram, the cheese and the rye-loaf, after which the whole company adjourned to another neighbour's where the same performance was gone through...
  On Hogmanay the children in great numbers made visitations.  They would march through the streets singing -

Up stocks, doon stools,
Dinna think that we're fools,
We're guid bairns come to play-
Rise up an' gie's we're Hogmanay.
Th' day 'ill come when ye'll be dead,
Ye'll neither care for meal nor bread;
Rise up, guid wife, and shack yer feathers,
And dinna think that we're beggars.

   After getting into the house one of the company would chant: 

The master of the house and the mistress also,
And all the pretty children that round the table go,
With your pockets full of money
And your bottles full of beer, 
We bless you and wish you a happy New Year.


   Children would get out the tee-totum (a spinning top) and play for crackernuts.  Other games were played:  blind man's bluff, charades, and others, until it was time to go home.  On New Year's Day there might be shooting competitions for beef, pork and sometimes money.

   The rhymes and the frolics of New Years guisers were common over much of the country.  The late Victorian festivities in Glen Esk are admirably described by James Inglis, a son of the manse there:  

The hard grip of winter is over all. Great fires are blazing merrily on every hearth. The ambrosial scent of the whisky-toddy steams out into the frosty air from the open door of the village inn. It is the New Year season. We do not keep Christmas in our village. There are no night-watch services, no joy -bells, no Christmas bush or mistletoe; but it is a season of hearty goodwill for all that, and kindly messages are sent round amongst all our kinsfolk, accompanied by New Year's gifts. When the short winter day draws to its early close, the young lads of the village would range themselves into line; and with twanging of fiddle, or tootling of flute, or more often to the ear-piercing screech of bagpipe, they perambulated the village and its neighbourhood, visiting the nearer farmhouses. Out in the cold winter's night, they would wake the echoes with the following appeal

Rise up, guidwife, and shak' yer feathers
Dinna' think that we are beggars. 
Up stocks, doon stules,
Dinna' think that we are fules;
We are bairns come to play,
Get up an' gie's oor Hogmanay.
The day'll come when ye'll be deid;
Ye'll no care then for meal or breid.
Rise up, guidwife, and dinna sweir;
Deal oot yer breid, as lang's ye're here.
Wi' pooches fu' o' siller,
An' bottles fu' o' beer,
We bless you, and wish you
A Happy New Year.'

   The illusion to ' stocks ' in the above is to the kail stock or stem of the cabbage plant which always plays an important part in the Hogmanay and Hallow E'en celebrations; but of course it is not my function, in such a rambling record as this, to enter fully into a description of things which have been so much better and more accurately described by abler writers than I pretend to be. However, the reader can easily imagine the result of such an appeal in the olden times of which I am writing. The result generally was a quaffing of such plentiful libations to Bacchus, on the part both of the itinerant musicians, and of those whose hospitality they claimed, that the true blue temperance advocates of the thoroughgoing modern school would have been perfectly horrified. Assuredly in my young days the consumption of whisky was abnormally great; but then, as I have said, there was this saving virtue, the liquor was pure and good. [Oor Ain Folk, pp. 106-7]

  Yet another version of the games and rhymes was reported from the parish of Kirkden



Rise up, guidwife, and shake your feather,
Dinna think that we are beggars:
We're girls and boys come out to play,
For to get our Hogmanay.

The following was sometimes added:

Give us of your white bread and not of your grey,
Or else we'll knock at your door all day.

[Ancient Things in Angus, pp. 91-92]

   The Old Statistical Account of the parish of Kirkden in 1792 observed that Christmas was a great festival in that area.  On that day:

the servant is free from his master, and goes about visiting his friends and acquaintances.  The poorest must have beef or mutton on the table, and what they call a dinner with their friends.  Many amuse themselves with various diversions, particularly with shooting for prizes, called here Wad-shooting; and many do but little all the Christmas week; the evening of almost every day being spent in amusement.


Christmas Versus Hogmanay


   The above comments relating to both Kirkden and Glen Esk are interesting in the light they shine on the Scottish lowland (for which I mean Presbyterian) attitude to Christmas.  The latter may have been frowned on by the kirk and, in some places and times, actively discouraged.  The Rev. Rogers tells of the activities of the Rev. Goodsir of Monikie who was very active i the early 18th century in putting down Christmas observance.  On Christmas Day itself he toured the parish and checked 'those symptoms of festivity which his pulpit thunders had failed to eradicate'.  One housewife spotted his approach to her cottage and panicked to remove all signs of feasting from her table.  She swiftly put her seething kail-pot in the box bed of the kitchen.  The minister had no thought of looking there and quickly left.  However, the goodwife found that the pot had burned through three of her best blankets, which must have put a dampener on her festivities. [Familiar Illustrations of Scottish Life, p. 192]






General  Yuletide and Hogmanay Traditions and Folklore

 

   Auguries as to the future were drawn from Yuletide bakings. The farmers' wives in Forfarshire kneaded bannocks at this season. If they fell asunder after being put to the fire, it was an omen that they would not bake again on the eve of Yule. [Folklore in Lowland Scotland, pp. 22-23]  The Rev. Rogers tells us that the direction of the wind on New Year's Eve indicated the state of the weather during the remainder of the season.  



   The Scots Weekly Magazine in 1832 (p. 51) informs us that the first person who opens the door on Yule-day expects to prosper more than anyone else in the family in the forthcoming year, for they have 'let in the Yule'.  There was also a custom to place a table or chair in the open threshold and set on it bread and cheese as an offering to the spirit of the New Year. Also, a new broom or besom might have been placed behind the main entrance to let in the Yule. Another custom was to have a table covered from morning to night with bread and drink on it, so anyone visiting could help themselves.  It was considered ominous for any visitor to leave without having participated in the food offered there.   Servants would go to the well to draw water and then draw corn out of the household sack, then bring in kale from the garden.  These actions guaranteed prosperity for the forthcoming year.






   More interesting material was compiled by the eminent Welsh Celticist John Rhys (1840-1915).  One of Rhys's informants was a Mr Craigie who informed the author on the matter of whether a woman was permitted to be first-foot and other matters:


There is no objection to a woman as a first-foot, Mr. Craigie [of Oriel College] tells me, in Forfarshire; he has heard women saying to their neighbours,  'I'll come and first-foot you; mind you, I have a lucky foot.' The favourite thing to take is a red herring, but it is somewhat regarded as a joke, and if you arrive before the family is up, which is very probable, as the first-foot sets out usually soon after twelve, you may tie the red herring to the door-handle. The first-foot is not unfrequently trysted, in other words, arranged for beforehand. The usual thing in the town of Dundee is for the first-foots to muster in the High Street, which they do in such numbers that the place is crowded. When it strikes twelve, they skail in all directions, and there is a special tramcar to take some of them to Lochee, a suburb about two miles off, the idea being that it is the right thing to await the new year in the High Street. Handsel Monday, i.e., first Monday after New Year's Day, or that day itself (in case it be Monday), is the day for making presents.
   We shall return to the subject of herring's association with the Dundee New Year further on in this article.  The local pilgrimage to Lochee is also interesting and would be worth looking into.



The Herrings of Dundee, a Hogmanay Mystery


Three years ago the local press in Dundee advertised that a local singer, Lynne Campbell, was interested in reviving a local New Year tradition where people in the area would give elaborately dressed herring as a first-foot gift to friends and neighbours.  The custom was prevalent in the 19th century, but dwindled away through the 20th century. The fish were said to be hung up in the houses of the recipients who saw them as a lucky charm throughout the year.  Whether they always smelled lucky is another matter.

   Apparently the Dundee fish were habitually dressed for Hogmanay in a crepe skirt and a bonnet.  The People's Journal in 1950 apparently speculated that the custom was based on the enterprise of Victorian fishmongers anxious to shift their wares, rather than anything more significant. F. Marian MacNeill writes in The Silver Bough (106):

In Dundee, and in the fishing communities on the East Coast, the traditional bandsel is a red herring, which symbolises the harvest oi the sea just as the sheaf symbolises the harvest of the soil. A first-foot can bring no luckier gift. As the old year draws to a close, barrows of red herring, decked in multi-coloured paper, tinsel. or red ribbons, are trundled to their stances. A red herring hung behind the kitchen door from one year’s end to another and then burnt, is a charm to ensure a successful fishing season in the coming year.

 Brian Hayward notes that children once carried fish as dolls on New Year's Day in Brechin (Folk Drama in Scotland, p. 102).  The tradition does not seem to have been confined to Angus, for even further north there is a record of something similar.  The writer Amy Stewart Fraser was raised in Glengairn in Aberdeenshire.  Her autobiographical book Dae Ye Min' Langsyne (London, 1975, p. 178) recalls how she and her friends 'took kippers and smokies dressed as dolls in crepe paper' around the streets.

   Fascinating to wonder why such a fishy tradition lingered in areas which were not fishing ports.





Hogmanay Poem by Marion Angus


 To end with, we have a thoughtful poem about Hogmanay by the wonderful Marion Angus which reminds us that this time of year, as well as Halloween, was a period when the veil between worlds was thin and the mind looks at times past as well as the future of the New Year.


Wha knocks at my door this Hogmanay ?
A cannie young lassie, limber and gay.
Lips o’ mine, e’en o’ mine—
Come ben, come ben tho’ ye’re deid lang syne.
Whaur ha’e ye tint yir Sabbath shoon ?
The fiddles is tuned and a’ the toon
Is kissin’ and courtin’ and dancin’-fey
Tae the screich o’ the reels on Hogmanay.
When the stars blaw oot an’ the mune grauws wan,
It’s ower the hills wi’ a bonny young man
Whaur the floo’er o’ love springs thorny an’ sweet—
And tho’ an auld wife maun awhilie greet
Ye’ll aye gang limber an’ licht an’ free—
Canny bit lassie that aince wis me.



Marion Angus


Some Sources



John Carrie, Ancient Things in Angus (Arbroath, 1881).

Brian John Hayward, Folk Drama in Scotland,  Phd. Thesis  (Glasgow,1983).

Rev James Inglis, Oor Ain Folk (Edinburgh, 1894).

F. Marian Macneill, The Silver Bough, Volume 3 (Glasgow, 1961).

John Rhys, 'Notes on First-foot and allied superstitions,' Folklore, 3 (1892), 256-262.

The Rev. Charles Rogers, Familiar Illustrations of Scottish Life (London, 1867).

Eve Blantyre Simpson, Folklore in Lowland Scotland (London, 1908).