Journal as a Pedlar, 1789-90
SEPT. 28.—BURNTISLAND. In this place the lover of ruins would be highly entertained, when whole streets are to be seen in solitary desolation. They have an excellent harbour here, to which, in a hard gale of easterly wind, the shipping in Leith-roads repair. Some time ago a thick-silk manufactory was established here, and seemed for a while to prosper, but on account of some differences arising among the partners, has now dwindled to a name. About a mile to the westward of this is a petrifying spring, which I had the curiosity to visit. The water is hard and well tasted; and all along the shore, for the space of a quarter of a mile, are to be seen the produce of the spring: rocks hang frightfully tottering over one another, where the different courses of the stream has been before. In some places I found the stone forming, resembling those pendicles of ice that hang by the house eaves. This is used as a watering-place by the ships of war lying in the roads, and other vessels outward bound. This town being nearly opposite to Leith, a passage-boat goes from this every day, save Sunday, and even then, if encouragement offers. The water is seven miles broad, and a single passenger pays sixpence. A pretty large sugar-work is also on foot here, seemingly to thrive. This evening, went down and took a view of a strange vessel, called the EXPERIMENT, launched from the sands of Leith, built on an entire new construction, and has been in this harbour these twelve months; measuring about one hundred feet in length, being almost two distinct vessels under one deck, but with two keels, two rudders, and five masts, and seems to have been the monstrous production of some mathematician's delirious pericranium. It was built at a vast expence, and without any visible intention or use, but that of an experiment.
SEPT. 20.—Went two miles along the shore, eastward, to Kinghorn. On my way visited a famous Spa well, whose waters are deservedly esteemed by people languishing under a consumption. The flow of water is but small, seeping out from a cleft rock, which rises above it thirty or forty feet. On spring-tides the sea flows nearly up to the well, beside which is a convenient seat cut out from the rock, where you can sit and receive the water in a vessel from the spring, and near that a large cave enters the rocks, where you may be secured from the storm; so that here is at once shelter for the traveller, drink for the thirsty, a seat for the weary, and health for the sick, all from the rough but bounteous hand of nature. About half a mile to the westward of this, on the shore which hangs gloomily above the sea, is the place where Alexander III. was killed by a fall from his horse, while on a hunting party; which place still retains the name of “The king's wud en'.” Kinghorn is but a small place; its inhabitants subsisting chiefly by the passage, which is the most frequented on the Frith, a considerable number of boats still passing and repassing to and from the Petty-cur, a harbour about half a mile west from the town. In a large boat the passenger pays sixpence; in a pinnace, which is most convenient in a smooth sea, tenpence. The town is composed of an irregular assemblage of poor, low, ruinous, tile-covered huts; but if miserable without, still more so within; almost every house being so dark, black, and dirty, that I wrong them not to style each the cave of misery and desolation. The inhabitants are almost all boatmen, and their whole commerce being with strangers, whom perhaps they may never see again, makes them avaricious, and always on the catch. If a stranger comes to town at night, intending to go over next morning, he is taken into a lodging. One boatman comes in, sits down, promises to call you in the morning, assists you to circulate the liquor, and after a great deal of loquacity, departs. In a little another enters, and informs you that the fellow who had just now left you, goes not over at all; but that he goes, and for a glass of gin he will awake you and take you along with him. Willing to be up in time, you generously treat him. According to promise, you are awakened on the morning, and assured that you have time enough to take breakfast, in the middle of which hoarse roarings alarm you, that the boat is just going off. You start up, call for your bill, the landlord appears, charges you like a nobleman—there is no time for scrupling—you are hurried away by the boatman on the one hand, and genteelly extorted by the landlord on the other, who pockets his money, and bids you haste lest you lose your passage; and perhaps after all, when you get on board, you are detained an hour or more by the sailors waiting for more passengers. Such, and a thousand more mean tricks, are practised on the unsuspecting stranger, and all under a show of the most extreme kindness. While here I inquired for Pattie Birnie, the famous fiddler, and was told a great many anecdotes of him, by some of the old people who remember to have seen him. I applied to a literary character in this town, with a subscription-paper, but he told me he did not find himself inclined to meddle with it, saying, I should apply my talents to prose-writing, for he doubted much if I would meet with great encouragement in the poetical branch, so many good poets having transmitted us pieces inimitable by succeeding ages. I told him if we never attempted to rival them, we made them seemingly inimitable indeed; but when young genius, fired with the love of that applause which former poets had met with, strove to attract the observation of the world and soar above their progenitors, I should imagine they merited encouragement for having spirit. enough to make the attempt. He said it was ambition to make such attempts, and to encourage ambition was not right; and ere I could return an answer, he slipt to his room, while I came away, cursing his stupidity. To several others I have applied, but they know not what poetry is, so cannot, as they said, subscribe. Returned back to Burntisland after sunset.