the persons by whom, and the circumstances under which, the materials
thereof were collected.
JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM.
*
II. INTRODUCTION to THE BLACK DWARF.
The ideal being who is here presented as residing in solitude, and
haunted by a consciousness of his own deformity, and a suspicion of
his being generally subjected to the scorn of his fellow-men, is not
altogether imaginary. An individual existed many years since, under
the author's observation, which suggested such a character. This poor
unfortunate man's name was David Ritchie, a native of Tweeddale. He
was the son of a labourer in the slate-quarries of Stobo, and must have
been born in the misshapen form which he exhibited, though he
sometimes imputed it to ill-usage when in infancy. He was bred a
brush-maker at Edinburgh, and had wandered to several places,
working at his trade, from all which he was chased by the disagreeable
attention which his hideous singularity of form and face attracted
wherever he came. The author understood him to say he had even been
in Dublin.
Tired at length of being the object of shouts, laughter, and derision,
David Ritchie resolved, like a deer hunted from the herd, to retreat to
some wilderness, where he might have the least possible
communication with the world which scoffed at him. He settled himself,
with this view, upon a patch of wild moorland at the bottom of a bank
on the farm of Woodhouse, in the sequestered vale of the small river
Manor, in Peeblesshire. The few people who had occasion to pass that
way were much surprised, and some superstitious persons a little
alarmed, to see so strange a figure as Bow'd Davie (i.e. Crooked David)
employed in a task, for which he seemed so totally unfit, as that of
erecting a house. The cottage which he built was extremely small, but
the walls, as well as those of a little garden that surrounded it, were
constructed with an ambitious degree of solidity, being composed of
layers of large stones and turf; and some of the corner stones were so
weighty, as to puzzle the spectators how such a person as the architect
could possibly have raised them. In fact, David received from
passengers, or those who came attracted by curiosity, a good deal of
assistance; and as no one knew how much aid had been given by others,
the wonder of each individual remained undiminished.
The proprietor of the ground, the late Sir James Naesmith, baronet,
chanced to pass this singular dwelling, which, having been placed there
without right or leave asked or given, formed an exact parallel with
Falstaff's simile of a "fair house built on another's ground;" so that poor
David might have lost his edifice by mistaking the property where he
had erected it. Of course, the proprietor entertained no idea of exacting
such a forfeiture, but readily sanctioned the harmless encroachment.
The personal description of Elshender of Mucklestane-Moor has been
generally allowed to be a tolerably exact and unexaggerated portrait of
David of Manor Water. He was not quite three feet and a half high,
since he could stand upright in the door of his mansion, which was just
that height. The following particulars concerning his figure and temper
occur in the SCOTS MAGAZINE for 1817, and are now understood to
have been communicated by the ingenious Mr. Robert Chambers of
Edinburgh, who has recorded with much spirit the traditions of the
Good Town, and, in other publications, largely and agreeably added to
the stock of our popular antiquities. He is the countryman of David
Ritchie, and had the best access to collect anecdotes of him.
"His skull," says this authority, "which was of an oblong and rather
unusual shape, was said to be of such strength, that he could strike it
with ease through the panel of a door, or the end of a barrel. His laugh
is said to have been quite horrible; and his screech-owl voice, shrill,
uncouth, and dissonant, corresponded well with his other peculiarities.
"There was nothing very uncommon about his dress. He usually wore
an old slouched hat when he went abroad; and when at home, a sort of
cowl or night-cap. He never wore shoes, being unable to adapt them to
his mis-shapen finlike feet, but always had both feet and legs quite
concealed, and wrapt up with pieces of cloth. He always walked with a
sort of pole or pike-staff, considerably taller than himself. His habits
were, in many respects, singular, and indicated a mind congenial to its
uncouth tabernacle. A jealous, misanthropical, and irritable temper, was
his prominent characteristic. The sense of his deformity haunted him
like a phantom. And the insults and scorn to which this exposed him,
had poisoned his heart with fierce and bitter feelings, which, from other
points in
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.