alarmed authorities on the eve of that
event. All we know for certain is that the General Assembly of 1690,
amongst other items of business, declared his deposition null and void,
and restored him to his old parish, the minister, Alexander Meldrum,
having been deposed shortly before for not reading the Proclamation of
the Estates, and not praying for their Majesties William and Mary. He
remained in it only a few months, and in the autumn of 1691 he was
translated to Fossoway, where he ended his days in peace in 1715,[24]
at the age of 80, a clear proof {207} that he was a man of iron
constitution as well as of iron will and iron convictions.

We have to go forward something like a hundred years before the parish
or its fair stream comes again into notice, though probably in the
interval occurred the summary act of justice commemorated by the
Glendevon "Gallows Knowe," on which some of the last Highland reivers
were hung, and also the tragic event at "Paton's Fauld," a spot a short
distance from the old drove road opposite the "Court Knowe," where two
local gipsy families effectively settled their quarrel by practically
annihilating each other.[25] It was in August, 1787, that Burns first
made acquaintance with the Devon, which he has celebrated in three of
his poems, though it is evident that both on his flying visit to
Harvieston and during the longer stay he made in October of the same
year he was more pleased with the human flowers that bloomed on its
banks than with the awesome grandeur of the Rumbling Brig, and that
Peggy Chalmers and Charlotte Hamilton were more intimately associated
with his fond memories of the Devon valley than Caudron Linn and the
Deil's Mill. Although the ladies at Harvieston were somewhat
disappointed[26] that the more prominent local glories did not inspire
the poet to an outburst, it is clear that the subtle softness of the
Devon scenery made a deep impression on Burns, if the more aggressive
beauty of its waterfalls and gorges left him cold. You feel this in
all he has written about it, and it is significant that in one of his
last songs, composed when he was down in body, mind, and estate, his
thoughts went back to the "crystal Devon, winding Devon," whose music
seems to have got into his verse, and to the happy days he had spent on
its "romantic banks" and amidst its "wild sequestered shades." It may
be noted here that the "Holy Fair" was continued in Glendevon long
after Burns'