Early Years in Scotland

Robert Moffat was born on the twenty-first of December, 1795, at Ormiston, in East Lothian. Of his father’s origin and family little is known, but his mother, Ann Gardiner, came of ancestors who had lived for several generations at Ormiston in a lowly walk of life, their only distinction having been a steady and unobtrusive piety. It is uncertain what was the occupation of the elder Moffat at Ormiston for some years after his marriage, but in 1797, when the subject of this memoir was two years old, his father received an appointment in the custom-house at Portsoy, near Banff, and removed thither with his wife and young family. In those days the voyage was long and venturesome, not without serious risks, as would appear from some of the letters written at this time. A visit which had been promised by some of the family is deferred till a more convenient season on account of a fear of being “captured by the French;” and that this fear was not altogether groundless appears from another item in the same letters, to the effect that a French privateer had chased an armed brig into Leith roads. An account is also given of the raising of volunteer forces to repel an expected invasion, towards which force the quiet landward parish of Ormiston furnished its quota of sixty-nine men.

The Moffats remained only a few years at Portsoy, In 1806 we find them established at Carronshore, on the southern side of the Firth of Forth, and a short distance from Falkirk. The cottage in which they lived still stands, a small and unpretending abode, surrounded by others of the same class. It was visited and recognized by Robert Moffat when in his old age he re-visited some of the scenes of his youth. The family which found a home here consisted of four sons and two daughters, besides

Robert himself. These have all passed away; only one of them left children, and of these scarcely any remain.

In a letter written nearly fifty years later to one of his sons, Robert Moffat tells the story of this period:

“When I think of the advantages you have possessed, I am reminded by way of contrast of my infant years. Well do I remember, as if it were but yesterday, being sent to William — or, as he was called, Wully — Mitchell, a parish schoolmaster, to learn to read. The shorter catechism was my first book, the title-page of which contained the A, B, C, &c. That acquired, I went plump into the first question, ‘What is the chief end of man?’ I tugged away at this till I got to the Amen, but not without having my hands sometimes well warmed with the taa’s, for Wully was stern when he sat in judgment. This was my first step at school. You would be surprised to hear how little I knew. I might have received a better education. My dear father and mother were not to blame, but I wanted to be a man before the time. I lived among shipping, and ran off to sea; and the captain becoming exceedingly attached to me, constrained my parents to allow me to go many voyages with him in the coasting trade, and many hairbreadth escapes I had. I got disgusted with a sailor’s life, to the no small joy of my parents; and I shall always feel grateful that I was afterwards, about the age of eleven, sent with my elder brother Alexander to Mr. Paton’s school at Falkirk. It was properly only a school for writing and book-keeping, and those who chose to pay, or could afford to pay, received lessons in astronomy and geography after school hours. My brother was one of the class of young men, who were nearly all the sons of the better sort of folks. Having some distance to walk home I was allowed to remain in the large room. I felt queer to know what the master was doing within the circle, and used to look very attentively through any little slit of an opening under an elbow, while I eagerly listened to the illustrations given, the master all the while never suspecting that I was capable of understanding the wonders of the planetary system. What I could not understand my brother explained on our way home. I was only six months at this school, the last I ever attended.”

At this time he was a regular attendant on the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Caldwell. Judging from later allusions, even at an early age deep and serious impressions must have been made. All his life through, Mr. Caldwell’s earnest teaching left recollections never to be effaced. These were confirmed by a mother’s influence. Robert was blessed with a mother of a type not uncommon in those days in Scotland. In the opinion of more than one of her grandchildren who have had the oyiportunity of judging, she might have sat to George Mac Donald for his portrait of Robert Falconer’s grandmother. She united a sternness of religious belief bordering on gloomy vindicliveness with one of the tenderest and c/)

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a; most loving hearts that ever beat. Her handsome features and dark eyes usually wore an expression of melancholy, but when a smile came it lit up her beautiful face in a way that could not be forgotten.

Nor was her sombre theology incompatible with a lively interest in the movements which were even then on foot for the preaching of the gospel to the heathen, and tidings of which reached even the sequestered villages of Scotland. On the long winter evenings the lads were gathered by the fireside, and while their mother taught them — not without remonstrance against employment which they thought more fit for their sisters — to knit and to sew, she would read aloud, in such missionary publications as were then to be had, the story of the dauntless pioneers of the gospel; and more especially of the work of the Moravians in Greenland and in the East Indies.

About 1809 Robert was apprenticed to the trade of a gardener, under a certain John Robertson of Parkhill, Polmont. This John is described as having been a hard man, though withal a just one. Often, even in the bitter cold of a Scottish winter, the lads were required to be on foot in the dense darkness at four o’clock in the morning, and had to hammer their knuckles against the handles of their spades to try and bring some feeling into them. They had just enough to eat, but not a whit more than was absolutely necessary.

Notwithstanding the severe regime under which he lived, Robert seems to have found time to attend an evening class occasionally, and to make an attempt at learning Latin and mensuration; and it would appear that in his intercourse with the family of a neighbour — of which one member, a Mrs. Home, still lives near Liverpool — he took his first lessons at the anvil, and also learned to play a little on the violin. He had a craving, which clung to him through life, to learn something of whatever he came in contact with, and many of the accomplishments of which he thus gained a smattering proved of unlooked-for value to him afterwards.

In 181 1 his father was transferred from Carronshore to Inverkeithing, in Fifeshire; and at the end of 18 12 his apprenticeship at Parkhill expired, and he obtained a situation at Donibristle, a seat of the Earl of Moray near Aberdour. For a twelvemonth he had the opportunity of frequent intercourse with his own family circle only a few miles away — the last as it proved, for after this, with the exception of a few transient visits during the lapse of long years, he was never with them again.

The late Dr. W. Lindsay-Alexander, in a paper in the United Presbyterian Missionary Record says:

“While at Donibristle he lived with the other workmen in the bothy there, only occasionally visiting his parents at Inverkeithing. One who was a fellow-workman with him at that time, and who still survives, reports that he was wont to while away the evening hours by practising the fiddle, and thereby contributing largely to the entertainment of his companions, who delighted in his performances. He was fond of athletic sports, and in these he excelled. When about sixteen years of age he fell from a boat and narrowly escaped death from drowning, being insensible for some time after he was drawn from the water. This did not, however, deter him from his favourite pastime of bathing, and he soon became an accomplished swimmer. Of his powers in this respect he on one occasion made noble use.”

Mr. William Dickson, of Edinburgh, has furnished the following account of the incident referred to by Dr. Alexander.

“Wi March, 1885. — The following narrative I to-day received from the lips of John Roxburgh, who is now in his eighty-fifth year, and whom I found occupying a comfortable cottage on the estate of Colinswell, about a mile from Burntisland, on the high road to Aberdour: —

“‘In the summer of the year 1814, I was employed along with Robert Moffat in the gardens at Donibristle, under the head gardener, Mr. Piper. 1 was then about fourteen, and Moffat about eighteen years of age.

“* One morning at the breakfast hour, between nine and ten o’clock, the two of us, and some others of the workmen, were bathing in the Firth of Forth, opposite the “New Harbour” at Donibristle. One of them, John Thomson, could swim a little, but wanted to learn how to “turn” in the water. Swimming out beyond his depth, he tried to do so, but sank. The others thought he was diving; but, seeming to remain too long down, they got alarmed, and feared he was drowning. He again, however, came to the surface. Meantime Robert Moffat, who was a strong swimmer, was out in deep water several hundred yards off, when the others shouted and signalled to him to come to the rescue. Swiftly he came. They showed him where Thomson had disappeared, when Moffat, plunging down, caught him round the body, swam with him ashore, and laid him on the bulwark. When brought ashore, Thomson was unconscious. The others tried to help him, the sea-water running from his mouth; but they had quickly to get on their clothes and go back to work, as it was now near ten o’clock. I stayed beside him till he was able to speak, and then left him.

“* Robert Moffat was in this way the means of saving John Thomson’s life. If he had not come at once, and been but two minutes later, I believe ail would have been over.’

“Roxburgh told me that at this time Moffat was living with seven other men in a ‘bothy’ on Donibristle estate. He himself (then but a mere boy) lived with his father, who was also a workman on Lord Moray’s property. Notwithstanding his great age, Roxburgh still possesses sound health of body, and remarkable acuteness of memory and intelligence. He has for fifty-two years been an elder in the United Presbyterian congregation at Burntisland.”

Robert Moffat’s engagement at Donibristle having expired, he obtained employment as under-gardener to Mr. Leigh, of High Leigh, in Cheshire, and bid farewell to Scotland.

It was on this occasion that an incident occurred which has happily been recorded in his own words, and is quoted from the Bible Society’s “Gleanings for the Young “:

“I was scarcely sixteen when, after working in a nursery garden near my parents for about a twelvemonth, I was engaged to fill a responsible situation in Cheshire. The day arrived when I had to bid farewell to my father, mother, brothers and sisters. My mother proposed to accompany me to the boat, which was to convey me across the Firth of Forth. My heart, though glad at the prospect of removing to a better situation, could not help feeling some emotion natural to one of my age. When we came within sight of the spot where we were to part, perhaps never again to meet in this world, she said —

*” Now, my Robert, let us stand here for a few minutes, for I wish to ask one favour of you before we part, and I know you will not refuse to do what your mother asks.’

“‘What is it, mother? ‘I inquired.

“‘Do promise me first that you will do what I am now going to ask, and I shall tell you.’

“‘No, mother, I cannot till you tell me what your wish is.’

“* O Robert, can you think for a moment that I shall ask you, my son, to do anything that is not right? Do not I love you? ’

“‘Yes, mother, I know you do; but I do not like to make promises which I may not be able to fulfil.’

“I kept my eyes fixed on the ground. I was silent, trying to resist the rising emotion. She sighed deeply. I lifted my eyes and saw the big tears rolling down the cheeks which were wont to press mine. I was conquered, and as soon as I could recover speech, I said —

“‘O mother! ask what you will and I shall do it.’

“‘I only ask you whether you will read a chapter in the Bible every morning, and another every evening? ’

“I interrupted by saying —

“‘Mother, you know I read my Bible.’

“‘I know you do, but you do not read it regularly, or as a duty you owe to God, its Author.’ And she added: ‘Now I shall return home with a happy heart, inasmuch as you have promised to read the Scriptures daily. O Robert, my son, read much in the New Testament. Read much in the Gospels — the blessed Gospels. Then you cannot well go astray. If you pray, the Lord Himself will teach you.’

“‘I parted from my beloved mother, now long gone to that mansion about which she loved to speak. I went on my way, and ere long found myself among strangers. My charge was an important one for a youth, and though possessing a muscular frame and a mind full of energy, it required all to keep pace with the duty devolved upon me. 1 lived at a considerable distance from what are called the means of grace, and the Sabbaths were not always at my command. I met with none who appeared to make religion their chief concern. I mingled, when opportunities offered, with the gay and godless in what were considered innocent amusements, where I soon became a favourite; but I never forgot my promise to my mother.”

The following gives a picture of what travelling was for the humbler classes seventy years ago:

“High Leigh, Dec. 5, 1813. “Dear Father and Mother, — I make no doubt but you will be greatly surprised at my not writing you sooner, but I hope the reception of this will satisfy you. I shall begin with giving you an account of our passage. After parting with you on the 5th (of November), I got to Polmont about four o’clock. I slept with Robert Bailie that night.”

He seems to have joined a ship the following day at Carron, which was to go by way of the canal to the Clyde; and after many delays reached Greenock on the 18th.

“We left Greenock next morning, very calm. It was about midnight when we got as far as the Cumbrae Isles, blowing a strong breeze right in our teeth. We were obliged to bear away under a heavy sea and dismal dark to Rothsay Bay, in the Island of Bute; but the wind favouring us, we put about and stood towards the Cumbrae Lighthouse, but under a dreadful sea we were obliged to bear away a second time to Rothsay Bay, where we got in about one o’clock Saturday morning with several sloops and a man-of-war. The rain descended in torrents the whole night till about eight o’clock. One unhappy circumstance took place. Two men of the man-of-war, the Cygnet, had got overboard, and attempting to swim on shore, one of them found himself going; he immediately cried out, which alarmed the ship. A boat was immediately hoisted out, but before they could get nigh him he was no more; but they laid hold of the other one who was attempting to swim to shore, but the body of the other was not found so far as I know. He was nine years on board. The above enraged the Captain (Russell); the boat was sent out early the next morning, the 20th, and pressed John Bow. I happened to be in bed, and keepit there as long as they were upon deck. There was no other pressed in the bay. The vessel was stationed at Lough Swilly in Ireland. Every man was sorry for Jock. But to make a long story short, we left there next morning, and arrived in Liverpool Dock on Friday morning the 26lh. Mr. Walker asked me if I would attend on deck in Bow’s stead, which I did all the voyage; indeed Thomas Barker was mate. I got my victuals along with Mr. Walker, and he charged me i 5s., which was nigh two shillings a day. He said that he would take nothing for my trunk or passage. He was kind enough to me, indeed. I got the fiddle, and I kept ourselves merry during the long voyage, but it was against my will.

“I attended church at Rothsay, and heard a young man, an anti-Burgher. His text was in Matthew — Jesus coming to John to be baptized.

“Every person was for me taking the coach on Sunday morning, but I took my own way of it, and set off on Saturday morning between nine and ten, and arrived at High Leigh about five o’clock at night. I think my travel cost me a sixpence for a pint of ale besides five or six shillings for a coach. The distance is about twenty-six miles.”

At High Leigh the Scotch lad found himself in a genial atmosphere. The head gardener, a Mr. Bearpark, took to him, and soon got to leave a great deal in his hands. This tended to make his duties heavier, and to lay more responsibility upon him. The gardens were maintained on a scale and in a style to which he had as yet seen nothing to compare, and he was at work almost day and night, weekdays and Sundays; but, as he took a strong delight in his calling, this was no hardship. Many men were employed, and these seem to have been for the most part careless, and given to amusements for which Robert Moffat had no inclination. He lived in a lodge in a somewhat secluded situation in the grounds, and what time he had was given to quiet study of such books as he could obtain.

Mr. and Mrs. Leigh were very considerate, and gave a good deal of attention to the interests of their numerous servants. The young gardener attracted the kindly notice of Mrs. Leigh, who lent him books and encouraged him to studious pursuits.