‘MY LORD—Being told Sir Robert Dixon is not at home, I am equally satisfied that Mr Biger should determine the use and practice of coal-masters in such cases, if he pleases to take the trouble, which I suppose is all your lordship is desirous to know before you let me have these boys that ran away from my colliery, and was entertained by your people; but if I mistake your intention, and you think it necessary I prove my title to them in law, I am most willing to refer the whole to Mr Biger, and therefore am ready to produce my evidence at any time you please to appoint, and if my claim is found to be good, shall expect the boys be returned without my being obliged to find them out. My lord, I am not so well acquainted with Mr Biger as to ask the favour; therefore hopes your lordship will do it, and wish it may be determined soon, if convenient. I beg my best respects to Lady Orbiston; and am, my lord, ‘Your lordship’s most obedient ‘and humble Servant, ‘LOTHIAN.’ ‘_P. S._—I have not the smallest pretensions to the faither of these boys, and should have pleasure in assisting you if I could spare any of my coaliers.’[301] Whether Mr Gibson of Durie had been dealt with in the same manner by his colliers, we do not know; but in November he advertised for hands, offering good and regularly paid wages, and ‘a line under his hand, obliging himself to let them go from the works at any time, upon a week’s warning, without any restraint whatever.’ He would also accept a loan of workers from other coal-proprietors, and oblige himself ‘to restore them when demanded.’[302] I must not, however, forget—and certainly it is a curious thing [Sidenote: 1701.] to remember—that I have myself seen in early life native inhabitants of Scotland who had been slaves in their youth. The restraints upon the personal freedom of salters and colliers—remains of the villainage of the middle ages—were not put an end to till 1775, when a statute (15 Geo. III. 28) extinguished them. I am tempted to relate a trivial anecdote of actual life, which brings the recentness of slavery in Scotland vividly before us. About the year 1820, Mr Robert Bald of Alloa, mining-engineer, being on a visit to Mr Colin Dunlop, at the Clyde Ironworks, near Glasgow, found among the servants of the house an old working-man, commonly called Moss Nook, who seemed to be on easy terms with his master. One day, Mr Bald heard the following conversation take place between Mr Dunlop and this veteran: ‘Moss Nook, you don’t appear, from your style of speaking, to be of this part of the country. Where did you originally come from?’