# The Whole proceedings of Jocky & Maggy's courtship with the great diversion that ensued at the wedding

THE
WHOLE PROCEEDINGS
OF
JOCKEY & MAGGY'S
COURTSHIP,
WITH
The Great Diversion that Ensued at the Wedding.
IN THREE PARTS.
GLASGOW
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
(113.)
The Whole Proceedings of
Jockey and Maggy's Courtship
PART FIRST.
Jockey. Hey Maggy wilt thou stay and tak kent fouk hame wi' the nicht.
Maggy. Wiltu come awa' than John, I fain wad be hame or the kie come in our mickle Riggy is sic a ⟨rummeling⟩ royte, she rins aye thro' the byre, ⟨and⟩ sticks a' the bits o' couties; my ⟨mither⟩ isna able to haud her to her ⟨ain⟩ stake.
Jock. Hute, we'll be hame in braw time woman; And how's a' your folks at hame.
Mag. Indeed I canna weel tell you man; our gude man is a' gane wi' the gout; my mither is very frail, my father he's aye wandering about, and widdling amang the beasts.
Jock. But, dear Maggy, they tell me we're gaun to get a wedding of the thee and Andrew Merrymouth, the Laird's young gardner.
Mag. Na, na, he maun hae a brawer lass to be his wife than the like o me, ​but auld Tammy Tailtrees was seeking me; my father wad a hain me to tak him, but my mither wadna let me, there was a debate about it, my guiddamewdy a sticket my mither wi' the grape, if my father hadna chanced to founder her wi' the beetle.
Jock. Hech, woman, I think your father was a fool for fashing wi' him, auld slavery duse, he wants naething of a cow but the cloots; your guid dame may tak him hersel', twa auld tottering stumps, the taen may saur the tither fu' weel.
Mag. Hech man! I wad a tain thee or ony body to hain them greed again, my father bled my guid-dame's nose, and my guid-dame brack my mither's thumb, the neighbours cam rinning in, but I had the luck to haud my father's hands till yince my guid dame plotted him wi' the broe that was to mak our brose.
Jock. Dear Maggy, I hae something to tell you, an ye wadna be angry at it.
Mag. O Johnny, there's my hand, I'se no be angry at it, be what it will.
​Jock. Indeed Maggie, the fouk of your toun and the fouk of our toun says we are gaun to be married, what say'st thou?
Mag. I wish we may ne'er do waur, O man, Johnny, I dreamed of you langsyne, and I like you aye after that.
Jock. O Maggie, Maggie, dost thou not mind since I came to your father's bull wi' my mithers cow, ye ken she wadna stand, and ye helped me to haud her; aye after that they scorned me that I wad be married on a you.
Mag. It's very true man, it'll be an odd thing and it be; but it'll no fa' back at my door, I assure you.
Jock. Nor at mine,—but my mither bade me kiss ye.
Mag. Indeed shall ye Johnny, thou's no want twa kisses, ane on every side of the mouth, man.
Jock. Ha, ha, Maggy, I'll hae a merry night of kissing you shortly.
Mag. Ay, but Johnny, you maun stay till that night comes; it's best to keep the feast till the feast day.
Jock. Dinna be angry, Maggy, my wife to be; but I have heard my mither ​say in her daffin', that fouk sud aye try gin the house will haud their plenishing.
Mag. Ay Johnny, a wife is aye thing and a house is anither, a man that's amind to marry a woman, he'll aye be fond of her.
Jock. 'Tis a' true, Maggy, but fouks may kiss or they be married, and no hae nae ill in their minds.
Mag. Indeed Johnny, I like you better than ony lad I see; and I sall marry you an ance my father's muck were out, my mither downa work at the midden.
Jock. Ah Maggy, Maggy! I'm fear ye beguile me, then my mither will murder me for being so silly.
Mag. My jo, Johnny, tell your mither to provide a' things for the bridal and I sall marry you in three ouks after this; but we maun gie in siller to the Precentor, a groat and a drink to the bellman, and then the kirk wa's maun hear o't three Sundays or it come.
Jock. But Maggy, I'm not to mak a blind bargain wi' you nor nae body; I maun ken o' your things and you sall ken o' mine.
​Mag. I ken well what I was to get, an gin my mither like the bargain weel, she'll mak it better; but an my father be angry at the bargain, I darna think of marrying.
Jock. I seena how he can be angry I wat well I'm a gay sturdy fellow, when I laid a bow and five pecks o' beer on the Laird's Bawsey, and he's as bilshy a beast as in a' the barony.
Mag. Ay, but my mither is aye angry at ony that evens themselves to me, an' it binna them she likes, indeed she bade me tak ony body, if it wasna auld tottering Tammy; for his beard is aye brown wi' sucking Tobacco, and slavers a' the breast o' his fecket.
Jock. Oh, Maggy, tak me an I'll tell you what I hae: First, my father left me when he died, fifty merks, twa sacks, twa pair of sunks; the hens and the gaun gear was to be divided between me and my mither, and if she died first, a' her gear was to come in among mine, and if I died before her, a' my gear was to come back to her again, and her to marry anither man if she could get him ​But since 'tis sae, she is to gie me Brucky and the black mare, the half o' the cogs, three spoons, and four pair o' blankets and a cannas; she's too big a twabey to her ain gravel to be a dwelling house to me and my wife, and I'm to get the wee byre at the end of the raw, to haud my cows an twa couties, the half o' the barn and a bed aff the kail yard, as lang as she lives; and when she dies, I'm to pay for the yerding honestly, an a' the o'ercome is to be my ain; and by that time I'll be as rich as my father was before me.
Mag.Truly, Johnny; I'se no sae mickle to the contrait, but an ye hae a mind to tak me wi' what I hae, tell me now or never, I'se be married or lang be.
Jock. I wat weel I'm courting in earnest, tell me what you hae, an' we'll say nae mair, but marry ane anither.
Mag. I'se tell ye a' I ken of, whatere my guid-dame gies ye's get it.
Jock. That's right, I want nae mair, 'tis an unko thing to marry, a naked woman and get naething.
​Mag. O Johnny, ye're in the right o't, for mony a ane is beguiled and gets naething, but my father is to gie me forty pound scots that night I am married, a lade of meal, a firlot of groats, auld Crummie is mine since she was a calf, and now she has a stirk that'll tak the bill ere Beltane yet; I hae twa stane o' guid lint, and three pockfu' of tow, a guid calf bed, twa bousters and three cods, with twa pair o' blankets and a covering, forby twa pair to spin, but my mither wadna gie creesh to them, and ye ken the butter's ower dear.
Jock. Then fareweel the nicht, Maggy; the best o' friends maun part.
Mag. I wish you weel, Johnny, but say nae mair till we be married, and then, lad.
Hame gaed Maggy and telled her mlther.
Mag. O mither! I hae something to tye, but ye mauna tell my father?
Mith.Dear Maggy, and what is that?
Mag. Deed, mither, I'm gaun to be married an the muck were out.
Mith. Dear Maggy, and wha'st thou ​gaun to get, 'tis no auld bubly Tammie?
Mag. Na, na, he's a braw young man, and I'll tell you, 'tis Johnny Bell; and his mither sent him to the market just to court me ance errand.
Mith. Deed Maggy, ye'll no be ill yoked wi' him, he's a gay well gaun fellow, right spruce, maist like an ill-faured gentleman. Hey, gudeman, do you hear that our Maggy is gaun to be married an the muck were ance out.
Fath. Na, na, I'll no allow that until the peats are cuisten an hurled.
Mag. O father! 'tis dangerous to delay the like of that, I like him and he likes me; 'tis best to strike the iron when tis het.
Fath. An wha's she gaun to get, gudewife?
Mith. And wha think ye, gudeman?
Fath. A what wat I, here and she please hersel, I'm pleased already.
Mith. Indeed she's gaun to get Johnny Bel, as clevar a little fellow as in a' the baony where he bides.
Fath. A-weel, a-weel, herie, she yours as well as mine, gie her to wha ​ye please.
Mith. A-weel, Maggy, I'se hae all things ready to hae thee married or a month.
Mag. Thanks to ye, mither, mony a guid turn hae ye done me, and this will be the best.
Hame gaed Jockey to his mither crying.
Jock.Mither! mither I made it out, her mouth is sweeter than milk; my heart played a whilkie whaltie when I kissed her.
Mith. Fair fa' thee, my son, Johnny, thou's gotten the gait o't at last. And whan art thou gaun to be married?
Jock. Whan I like mither; but get the masons the morn to big me my house, for I'll hae a' things in right good order.
Mith. Thou's want for naething, my bairn, to get thee ready for marriage.
The wooing being o'er and the day being set, Jockey's mither killed the black boul horned yeal ewe, that lost her lamb the last year, three hens and a gule-fitted stock; to prevent the ripples ​pecks o' maut masket in the muckle ⟨kirn⟩, a pint o treacle, to mak it thicker ⟨and⟩ sweeter, and mamier for the mouth; ⟨five⟩ pints of whiskey wherein was ⟨garlic⟩ and spice, for raising the wind. The ⟨friends⟩ and good neighbours went alang ⟨wi'⟩ John to the kirk, where Maggy ⟨chanced⟩ to meet him, and was married ⟨by⟩ the minister. The twa companies ⟨joined⟩ thegither, and came hame in a ⟨crowd⟩; and at every change-house they ⟨chanced⟩ to pass by, Providence stopt ⟨by⟩ their proceeding with full stoups, ⟨bottles⟩, and glasses, drinking their ⟨healths⟩, wishing them much joy, ten girls and ⟨a⟩ boy. Jockey seeing so many wishing ⟨well⟩ to his health, coupt up what he ⟨had⟩ got to augment his health and ⟨gar⟩ him live long, which afterwards ⟨coupt⟩ up him, and proved ⟨detrimental⟩ to the same.
So hame they came to the dinner, ⟨where⟩ his mither presenting to them a piping het haggis, made ⟨of⟩ the creesh of the black boul horned ewe, boiled in ⟨the⟩ meikle pot, mixt with beer meal, ⟨onions⟩, spice and mint. This haggis ​being supt warm, the foaming swats and spice in the liquor set John's belly a-bizzing like a working vat. His mither cried to spence him, and bed him with the bride. Pale and ghostly was his face, and closed were baith his een. Ah! cries his mither, a dismal day indeed, his bridal and his burial may be in ae day. Some cuist water in his face, and jag'd him wi' the needle, till he began to rouse himself up, then lisp out broken words. Mither, mither! cries Jockey, whar am I now? Whar are you now, my bairn, says his mither, ye are beded, and I'll bring the bride to you. Beded, says Jockey, and is my bridal done else? Ay is't, said his mither, and here is the bride come to lie down beside ye, man. Na, na, mither, says Jockey I'll no lie wi' an unco woman indeed, an it binna heeds an thraws, the way I lie wi' you mither. O fye, John, says his mither, dinna affront yoursel' and me baith, tak' her in o'er the bed ayont ye, and kiss her, and clap her, and daut her till ye fa asleep. The brides fa's ​a-crying oot, O mither, mither! whar are ye, ⟨mither⟩? Poor thing, Meg thou's ca'd ⟨thy⟩ hogs to a bonny market. A bonny ⟨market⟩! says Jockey's mither; a shame ⟨sa'⟩ you and her baith, he is worthy of ⟨her⟩ though she were better nor what ⟨she⟩ is, or e'er will be. His friends and ⟨her⟩ friends being a mixed multitude ⟨some⟩ took his part, some took her's, ⟨then⟩ did a battle begin in the clap of ⟨a⟩ hand, being a very fierce tumult, which ended in blood; they struck so ⟨hard⟩ with stones, sticks, beetles, and ⟨barrow⟩ trams; pigs, pots, stoups, and and trenchers, were flying like bombs and grenades; the crook, bouls, and tangs, were all employed as weapons of war, till down came the bed, with a great mow of peats! So this disturbed a' the diversions at Jockey's bedding, and the day was beginning to break in the east before the hurly-burly was over.
PART II.
Now, though all the ceremonies of Jockey and Maggy's wedding were ended, when they were fairly bedded before a wheen rattling unruly witnesses, ​who dang down the bed aboon them; the battle still increased, and John's work turned out very wonderful, for he made Janet, that was his mither's servant lass last year, grow like an elshen haft, and got his ain Maggy wi' bairn forby. The humsheughs were very great, until auld uncle Rabby came in to redd them; and a sturdy auld fellow he was; he stood lively with a stiff rumple, and by strength of his arms rave them aye sunder, flinging the taen east and the tither west, till they stood a' ronnd about like as many for-fougten cocks and no ane durst steer another for him. Jockey's mither was ca'd o'er a kist and broke a' her hip on a round heckle, up she gat, and running to fell Maggy's mither with the ladle, swearing she was the mither of a the mischief that happened Uncle Rabby ran in between them, he having a muckle nose, like a trumpet, she recklessly came o'ar his lobster neb a drve wi the laddle, till the blood cam rinning down his old grey beard, and hang like snuffy bubbles at it. O then ​⟨he⟩ gaed wud, and looked as woeful like ⟨as⟩ he had been tod-lorie come frae ⟨worrying⟩ lambs, with his bloody mouth. ⟨With⟩ that he gets an auld flail and ⟨and⟩ rives awa the supple, then drives ⟨them⟩ a' to the back of the door, but ⟨nane⟩ wan out; then wi' chirting and ⟨clapping⟩ of hands down comes the clay ⟨hallen⟩, and the henbawk wi' Rab Reid ⟨the⟩ fiddler, who had crept up, beside ⟨the⟩ hens, for the preservation of his ⟨fiddle.⟩
Ben comes the bride, when she got ⟨on⟩ her coat, clappet Rabby on the ⟨shouther⟩, and bade him spare their lives, ⟨for⟩ their was blood enough shed in ae ⟨night⟩, quo she; and that my beard can ⟨witness⟩ quoth he. So they all came ⟨in⟩ obedience to uncle Rabby, for his ⟨supple⟩ made their pows baith saft and ⟨sair⟩ that night; but daft Maggy ⟨Simpson⟩ sat by the fire and picked banes a' ⟨the⟩ time of the battle. Indeed, quoth ⟨she⟩. I think ye're a' fools, but myself, ⟨for⟩ I came here to get a good supper, ⟨and⟩ ither folk hae gotten their skins well paid.
​By this time up got Jock, the bridegroom that was Jockey before he was married, but couldna get his breeks; and rampling, he cries, Settle ye, or I'll gar my uncle settle ye, and saften your heads wi' an auld supple.
Poor Rab Reid, the fiddler, took a sudden blast; some said he was maw turned wi' the fa', for he bock'd up a' the barley, and then gar'd the ale gae like a rainbow frae him, as brown as wort brose.
The hurly-burly being ended, and naething but fair words and shaking of hands, which was a sure sign of an agreement, they began to cow their cutted lugs, and wash their sairs, a' but Jockey's mither, who cried out, A black end to you and your wedding baith, for I hae gotten a hundred holes dung in my back wi' the round lieckle teeth.
Jockey answers, A e'en haud you wi' them then mither, ye will e'en be the better sair'd.
Up gets auld Rabby, and auld Sandy, the souter of Seggyhole, and put everything in order; they prapet up the bed ​wi' a rake, and ripsling kame; the stoops being broken, they made a solid foundation of peats, laid on the caff bed and bowsters, and Jockey and Maggy were beded the second time.
Jockey not being used to lie wi' a woman, except heads and thraws wi' his mither, gets his twa hands about the brides neck, and his houghs out o'er her hurdies, saying I ne'er kist wife nor lass naked before, and for fainness I'll bite you, &c.,
Naething mair remarkable happened till about half a year and four ouks thereafter, when in comes Marion Mushes, rinning barefitted and barelegged, wi' blear't cheeks and watery nose, cursing and banning, greeting and flyting.
(Marion enters, crying,) And whar's John?
Mith. Indeed he's out in the yard pouting kail runts.
Mar. A black end on him and his runts, for he's ruined me and my bairn.
Mith. Ruined you! it canna be; he never did you ill, by night or by day, ​what gars you say that?
Mith. O woman! our Jenny is a rowing like a pack of woo; indeed ⟨she's⟩ wi' quick bairn, and your John is ⟨the⟩ father o't.
Mith. Our John the father o't! haud there is enongh said, lieing lown? ⟨I⟩ trow our John was ne'er guilty of sic ⟨a⟩ sinfu' action. Daft woman I trow ⟨it'll⟩ be but the wind; she'll hae drucken some sour drink, raw sowens, or rotten milk that makes her so ill.
Mar. A wae be to him and his actions baith, he's the father o't, fornicator dog that he is, he's ruined me and my bairn; I bore her and brought her up honestly till she came to you; her father died, and left me wi' four o' them; there wasna ane o' them could pit on anither's claes, or tak a louse of ither.
Mith. I bid ye haud your tongue, and no even your bystarts to my bairn, for he ne'er will take wit; he poor silly lad, he wad ne'er look to a lass be's to lay her down. Fy, Maggy, cry in John, and ane let's ratifyt wi' the auld ruddoch; aye, ye're no blate to say sae.
​Mar. Be angry or be well pleased, I'll sayt in a' your faces, and I'll call you before your betters ere lang gae.
John enters.—A what want ye now! our brose ready yet?
Mith. Ay, brose! black brose indeed for thee, my bairn; here's Marion Mushet saying ye hae gotten her dochter wi' bairn.
Jock. Me, mither, I never lay in a bed wi' her dochter a' my days; it'll be the young Laird's for a saw him kiss her at a Lammas fair and let glaum at her,—nonsense.
Mith. Ay, ay, my man, Johnny, that is the way; 'tis no you, nor the like of you, puir innocent lad; 'tis a wheen rambling o'erfull lowns ilka ane of them loups on another, and gies the like of you the wyte o't.
Mar. Ye may say what you like about it, it's easy to ca' a court whar there's nae body to say again; but I'll let you ken about it, and that is she tell't me, and you gudewife tell't me some o't yoursel'; and gin you hadna brought in Maggy wi' her muckle tocher atween the twa, ​your Jockey and my Jenny wad hae been man and wife that day.
Jock. I weel a-wat that's true.
Mith. Ye filthy dog that ye are, are ye gaun to confess wi' a bystart, and ⟨it⟩ no yours? Dinna I ken as weel as ye do wha's aught it, and wha got the wean.
Jock. Aye, mither, we may deny as we like about it, but I doubt it will come to my door at the last.
Mith. Ye silly sumph and senseless fellow, had ye been knuckle deep wi' the nasty drab, ye might hae said sae; but ye tell't me langsyne that ye couldna lo'e her, she was sae lazy and lown like, besides her crooked fit and bowed legs.
Jock. Ay, but mither, do ye mind since ye sent me out to gie her the parting kiss at the black hole of the peat-stack.
Mith. Na, na, poor simple lad; the wean's no yours, ilka ane loups on o' anither, and ye'll get the wyte of a the bystarts that are round about the country.
​Up gets Maggy wi' a roar, and rives ⟨her⟩ hair and cries, O her back, her ⟨belly⟩! and baith her sides! The weed and gut gaes through my flesh like ⟨lang⟩ needles, nails, or elshin irons! Wae be to the day that e'er I saw his face. I had better married a tinkler, or followed the sodgers, as mony, an honest man's dochter has done, and lived a better life than I do.
Up gets Jockey and rins over the rigs for John Rodger's wife, auld Katty the howdy; but or he wan back, she parted wi' Patrick through perfect spite, and then lay twa-fauld o'er a stool in a swoon.
Jock, A-weel, a-weel, sirs, though my first born is e'en dead without seeing the light of the warld, ye's a' get bread and cheese to the blythe meat, the thing we should a waured on the bauket will sair the burial, and that will aye be some advantage; and should Maggy die, I maun een tak Jenny, the taen is as far a length as the tither; I'se be furnished wi' a wife between the twa.
​But Maggy grew better the next day and was able to muck the byre; ⟨yet⟩ there gaed sic a tittle tatlin ⟨through⟩ the town every auld wife tell'd ⟨anither⟩ o't, and a' the light-hippet hissies ⟨that⟩ rins between towns at e'en tugging ⟨a'⟩ their tow rocks, spread it round ⟨the⟩ kintra, and everybody's mouth ⟨was⟩ filled wi' Jockey and Jenny and how Maggy had parted wi' a bairn.
At last Mess John Hill hears of the foul fact, and sends the Elder of that quarter, and Clinkum-Bell, the grave maker to summon Jockey and Jenny, to the Sessions, and see how the stool of repentance wad set them. No sooner had they entered the door but Maggy fa's a greeting and wringing her hands, Jockey's mither fell a-flyting, and he himself a-rubbing his lugs, and riving his hair, crying out, O gin I were but half an ell higher, I sud be a sodger or it be lang; gie me a guid flail or a corn fork, I wud kill Russians anew, before I gaed to face yon flyting Ministers and be set up like a warld's wonder, on their cock-stool, or back stool; and ​wha can hide the shame when every body looks to them, wi' their sacken sarks, or gown, on them, like a piece of auld eauvas prickt about a body, for naething bnt what every body does amaist or they are married as weel as me
Mith. My man Johnnie, ye're no the first that has done it, and ye'll no be the last; e'en mony o' the ministers hae done it themselves; hout aye, e'en your father and I did it mony a time
Mag. Aye, aye, and that gars your son be so good o't as he is, the things that's bred in the flesh is ill to pit out of the bane.
Mith. Daft woman, what way wad the warld stand if folks wadna mak use of ither? 'Tis the thing that's natural bairns getting; therefore it's no to be scunner'd at.
Mag. Aye, aye, but an they be for the like o' that they should marry.
Mith. But I think there's little ill though they try it ance or twice or they be married, 'tis an unco thing for a body to be bound to a business or they ken whether they be able for it or no.
PART III.
Aff he goes to the Minister, and owns a' his faut to him and Mess John desired him to appear before the congregation the next Sabbath to be rebuked for his fau't.
Jock. Indeed, sir, I wad think naething to stan' a time or twa on the black stool, to please you, if there were naebody in the kirk, on a ouke day, but you and the elders to flyte ⟨a⟩ wee on me; but 'tis waur on a Sunday to have a' bodies looking and langhing at me, as I had been codding the ⟨pease⟩ sipping the kirn, or something that's no bonny.
Min. Aweel John, never mind you these things but come ye to the stool it's nothing when it is over, we cannot say o'or muckle to you about it.
On Sunday thereafter, John comes with Uncle Rabby's auld wide eoat, a muekle grey lang-tailed wig, and a big bonnet, which covered his faee, so that he scemed more, like an old pilgrim than a young fornicator! mounts the creepy wi' a stiff back, as he had been a man of sixty.
Every one looked at him, thinking he was some old stranger, who knew not the stool of repentanee by another seat, unknown but to very few; yet, or the seeond it became to be well known, that the whole parish and many more, came to see him whieh eaused such a eonfusion, that he was absolved, and got his children baptized the next day,—but there happened a tullie between the twa mothers' who would would have both their names to be John. A-weel says auld John their father to the minister, A-deed, sir, ye maun ca' the tane John and the tither Jock, and that will please baith these enemies of mankind.
Minister. Now John, you must never kiss another woman, but your own wife; live justly, like another honest man, and you will come to die well.
Jock. A black end on me, sir, if ever I lay wi' another woman, as lang as our Maggy lasts; and for dying, there's nae fear of that, or I'll no get fair play, if ye and a' the aulder folk in the parish be not dead before me. So I hae done wi' you now, fareweel, sir.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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