The record-union., 1893-09-30
Special Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright 1881

UNION. Copyright 1898.
ECCLEFECHAN, Scotland, Sept. "a, 1898.
Some English tramps were singing for
their breakfasts before tbs doors of the
grave Scottish villagers of Ecclefechan
when l tramped into the hamlet behind
them. There were five of them-great,
hulking fellows, and their hoarse and ag-
gressive believing was the only sound
indicative of human life in the village,
even at that late hour of the morning.
They stood beside a melodious burn
which dashed from under covered way
and coursed on through the village street.
At one side of the stream was an an
cient wall. On the other were struggling
houses, and the one before which the vag-
abonds lifted up their narrowing voices
was one of the plainest and quaintest in
Ecclefechan. From its appearance it
might have been an olden stable, an
abandoned lodge at the entrance to some
gentleman's establishment formerly To-
Gated behind it, or the ancient Jail Of the
village, now smartly whitewashed and
transformed into lowly habitation. II
was mite of thing with an archway
through it occupying one-third of the
lower story.
At each side was narrow oaken door,
and, nearer each end, a tiny window. In
the scOnd story another little window
above each lower one, looked into the
street, and over the center of the archway
were two still more dimlnutiVe windows,
side by side. 1t was double house OF
the dwarf variety, and the one at the
north end, where the strong-lunged sor-
ners sang, was the birthplace of Thomas
Carlyle.
The believing had brought mutch-
capped guid wives to various windows and
alley entrances at safe distances, / lott
cred near enough to hear them discuss
the matin song of the tramps as well as
the house and it's former occupants.
''They medina fash (trouble) theirsels
tae sing there" croaked one old dame
with gentle swaying of her head be-
tokening a reminiscental vein OF remark.
They're like mecht roar theirsels black
i the face, ,afore they e'er wrang bluid frae
that neep (turnip)W
''Oh, aye" crooned a still older old
woman, Its weel kent nae puir body
lVer saw, Syne or soon, the recht side o.
the Carlyles' sillerp'
How Carlye's hosts OF adorers would
have groaned TO hear these, his old neigh
bors, go on. One hinted at their pride
with, They thOcht theirsels nae sheep
shanksp' Another, Of their thrift with,
'rhey ne'er selPd hens on rainy day."
Another, of miserliness with, They gae
their banes to nae dogs" Another, of
their austerity with, ''They warna guid
to neebor wiz" And another bent old
body summed up the feeling of many of
the testy villagers with the crisp epitome,
''They were i'll to thole! That is, it was
hard TO get along with the Carlyles. And
it is historic that others. besides these
dim old souls, some who lived in the
same houses with them, found it Just that
way.
The tramps got nothing for their offer
tory, and, after few vigorous kicks at
the door, departed. giving me an oppor-
tunity to reach the house just as
the huge form and red, veinous face Of
Mrs. John Gourley, caretaker, appeared
at the door. Shaking a fine bludgeon
after the vanishing vagrants she relieved
heri indignation with: ''Hoots! It's
weary day for auld Scotland whan there's
nae body t. fend hoose like this frae tha
low English beggars," and then, in rad
liant expectancy of low English ''sax-
pences," Dade me enter.
l doubt if there ever lived a writer
about whom more has been written by
little and great writers than has been
penned in criticism or praise of Thomas
Carlyle. And l am uSt as much in doubt
whether any one, or all of these, from
passing essayist to stately biographer,
ever really visited the birthplace of this
rare and royalty rampant genius. Yet
that should have been every serious biog-
rapher's first duty. Interesting as may
be every little detail in the maturer ca
reer OF the man of genius, when we have
learned each one by heart, and have been
given standards by which to find his
place, measure his personality and weigh
his influence, we are unSatiShed. What
made this man what he was? What were
the potent forces which sent him on his
way, or which were overcome, in his
upbuilding? Out of what manner of
mold did he come? What was the actual
environment of the babe, the child, the
youth? We wish to be shown the ulti-
mate perspective. 1t is not to be found
in any biography of Carlyle.
sand so l think there is an unusual fas-
cination in coming to this hard little ham
let and seeing with your own eyes pretty
nearly the same sort of folk and precisely
the same scenes as those the boy Carlyle
knew, hard as it is to believe from his
biographers he ever was a boy, and, in
sympathy and feeling, getting as far as
possible into the same framing and set
ting as those through which his eyes had
their earliest outlook upon the close ma
terial and spiritual horizon about him.
No truer hint of all this could be given
than in that morning incident of the
Grim old DANES and their tongue wag-
ging about the singing beggars and the
house before which they sung. 1t was in
itself simply bit out of Carlyle's family
time. l almost felt the CARLYLE folk were
ssolowerin' ahint tn door," 1t is but two
years less than one hundred since Thomas
CARLYLE was born in that little stone cot
taoe. There is no place in Britain where