assault-case, at the Newcastle assizes, which greatly tickled the company. It appeared the man of law had, previous to the trial, been dining near Haltwhistle, and whether he had taken his wine too freely, or his horse was in fault, he got a fall, and had been ministered to by the Samaritanship of the witness in question. On the trial it was his object to make it evident that the said witness was too intoxicated at the time of the assault to be in a condition to testify to what took place. With this view he plied him with a series of questions in reference to his proceedings during the day, in the evening of which the outrage took place, which, as the laird related it, ran somewhat as follows:
Counsel. “Do you remember the morning of the day in question?”
Witness. “Ay, weel.”
Counsel. “Had you any particular business in hand that morning?”
Witness. “Why, I just went up the hill to Foggeridge, to see if I could make a bargain for two or three yowes.”
Counsel. “Did you buy the ewes?”
Witness. “Ay, I bought the yowes.”
Counsel. “When a bargain is struck, does not the seller allow something for drink-money?”
Witness. “Ay, the luck-penny.”
Counsel. “Did you drink the luck-penny?”
Witness. “In coorse, we drank the luck-penny.”
Counsel. “A glass,—or more?”
Witness. “I see ye ha’ the keelvine in your hand, you may put down three.”
Counsel. “After this, did you go home?”
Witness. “Na; I had to go to Hardriding about a pig.”
Counsel. “Did you buy again?”
Witness. “Na; we couldna come to an agreement.”
Counsel. “Then you had no more to drink?”
Witness. “Hoot, ay! Bargaining’s drouthy wark. Ye may put down three or four glasses at Hardriding.”
Counsel. “And then did you return home?”
Witness. “Why, na. Aw just went round by Melkridge, to take my bit dinner wi’ Johnny Ha’.”
Counsel. “But surely you did not drink more that day?”
Witness. “Just allow me to tell you, that if ye war takin’ yer dinner wi’ Johnny Ha’, if ye wadna drink, he wad gar ye!”
Counsel. “And how much may you have taken after dinner?”
Witness. “Hout! mair than aw can mind o’; ye winna get far wrang if ye only set dawn eneugh.”
Counsel. “What did you do after you left Johnny Hall’s?”
Witness. “Aw went heam to Haltwhistle.”
Counsel. “Did you find the way unusually long?”
Witness. “Why, then, it wasn’t just the length, but the breadth o’ the way, that aw minded meast.”
Counsel. “I trust, after such a quantity of drink, that you were not tempted to stop by the way for more?”
Witness. “Na, for there’s ne’er a public atween Melkridge and Haltwhistle toon end. Aw dinna ken hoo it is. A man aye kens when he’s had ower little, an’ he kens when he’s had ower much, but he never kens when he’s had just eneugh; so I e’en pulled bridle at Tibby Elliot’s at the toon end, and had a stirrup-cup.”
Counsel. (Drawing himself up, and addressing witness slowly and with emphasis.) “Why, man!—do—you—mean to say that after swallowing such an enormous—quantity of intoxicating drink, as you own—you could be in a condition to understand the particulars of the assault you now presume to testify to?”
Witness. “Why, as to that, I might na be quite sober; but aw wasn’t half sae drunk as ye war yersel’, only last Saturday, when ye coupit aff yer bit nag at the crook of Bellister loan, amang a’ the clarts, an’ mead a holy bison o’ yersel’, an’ aw had to scrape ye clean, an’ get ye sotten on again. Eh! man, aw ken ye agean weel, though ye hae na the manners to mind o’ me that did ye sic a neerborly turn.”
“I’se warrant!” said the laird, “little Dick Rutherford was upsides wi’ the man i’ the wig, an’ he had it a’ his own way after that, for ne’er another word had t’other to thraw til a’ dog.”
While Tom-o’-the-Loanin and his companions beguiled the time in this manner, we could observe that a good deal of sweethearting went on upon the stairs, the more staid dames being assembled at a solemn tea-drinking in an upper-room. At length came the time for calling a reckoning and departing, each on his way. The iron hoofs of their nags cluttered at the door; the stirrup-cup was drunk, and the Tynedale men took the road, some of them bearing behind them, on pillions, buxom dames and bonny lasses, with jovial halloos that we could hear even after they had crossed the Tyne, ringing back from the heathy sides of old Plenmeller.
The next morning we devoted to a survey of the old-fashioned town of Haltwhistle, which consists of little more than a long straggling street, at either end of which there is a peel-tower, both inhabited. The church, which is dedicated to Holy Cross, is situated on the south side of the town. It is a stately and ancient edifice, chiefly in the early English style. In the chancel are the trophies of the family of Blenkinsop, whose ancient castle stands in ruins on the south bank of the Tyne, a few miles to the west of Haltwhistle. Here is likewise an altar-tomb to the memory of John Ridley, Esq., brother to Dr. Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of London, bearing a rhyming inscription, which runs thus:—
IHON REDLE
THAE SVM
TINE DID BE
THEN LAIRD OF THE WALTON
GON IS HE OVT OF THES VAL OF MESRE
HIS BONS LIE VNDER THES STONS
WE MUST BELEVE BE GODs MERCE
INTO THE WORLD GAVE HES SON
THEN FOR TO REDEM AL CHRISTEN
SO CHRIST HAES HES SOVL WON
AL FAETHFVL PEOPLE MAY BE FAEN
